I shot to my feet in shock.

How could this be? The killer… wasn't my husband?!

From the other side of the wall came the heavy thud of something hitting the floor.

Reason told me that if I went out now, I might still be able to help my husband fight the attacker.

But the trauma of being killed three times before rooted me to the spot, leaving me unable to move.

The officer on the other end of the line kept calling out to me.

"Hello? Are you still there? Police are on their way—don't do anything rash!"

My hands shook as I braced myself against the wall.

The sounds outside faded into silence.

I had no idea who had won. I didn't know who was alive.

Only when the wail of sirens filled the entire building did I finally manage to move my stiff limbs and clear away the barricade.

The sight that greeted me was my husband lying in a pool of blood. He had already lost consciousness.

Tears burst from my eyes as I screamed, my voice breaking, "Please, save him!"

I rode in the ambulance with a policewoman.

Seeing how violently I was trembling, the nurse tried to reassure me.

"Ms. Parker, don't worry. Your husband's vital signs are stable for now."

The policewoman stood nearby for a moment before saying, "It doesn't look like there was a struggle. He only has one stab wound."

When he was attacked, my husband had deliberately avoided a fatal blow.

I nodded, wiping the cold tears from my face as my voice choked. "Thank goodness he's a doctor… he knew how to protect himself. Otherwise… he might not have survived…"

Looking at his pale lips, guilt flooded my chest.

At such a dangerous moment, my cowardice had made me stand by and do nothing. I wanted nothing more than to slap myself. If he really died, I would carry that regret for the rest of my life.

After surgery, he still hadn't regained consciousness, but the steady rhythm on the monitor brought me some relief. I gave a brief statement to the police.

They urgently pulled surveillance footage from the hallways and elevators, but found no suspicious individuals.

"The suspect is only about 170 centimeters tall," the lead officer said, showing me a photo. "Although that doesn't match the footprints in your living room, we can't rule out that he wore your husband's shoes left by the door."

I nodded. I had mostly calmed down by then.

"The suspect was extremely cautious. He only left half footprints—we can't determine depth or weight. So far, all the victims have been women around your age. That's likely why your husband survived."

Thinking back to my previous lives, I bit my lip and hesitated before asking, "Officer… is this really a random series of killings?"

His expression turned serious instantly. "Do you have any leads to share?"

After a moment's thought, I only mentioned how the attacker had clearly headed toward the master bedroom this time.

He noted it down and nodded.

"We'll need to wait until your husband wakes up before taking a full statement."

After all, I hadn't faced the attacker directly. There was little more I could provide.

Once the police left, exhaustion overwhelmed me.

I rested my head by my husband's bedside and drifted off for a while.

But when I woke up, the bed was empty.

My heart lurched violently. I rushed to the door, ready to go look for him.

But outside, all the lights had gone out.

Only the faint green glow of the emergency exit sign illuminated the silent corridor.

Holding my breath, I turned to go back inside and call the police.

The moment I turned—

A man, holding a long knife, his face hidden beneath a mask, stood less than a meter behind me—silent, pressed close to my back.

It was him.

The killer had found me.

In an instant, my scalp prickled. My throat felt clogged, as if something had sealed it shut—I couldn't even scream.

For some reason, he didn't rush forward to stab me.

Instead, he stood there, staring at me through the mask.

I turned and ran—faster than I ever had in my life.

The motion-sensor lights in the corridor flickered on one by one as I sprinted past. Behind me, hurried footsteps clung close, relentless as a shadow.

I ran, crying uncontrollably, tears streaming down my face. A thought struck me so hard it nearly shattered my sanity.

Why was it that the moment my husband disappeared, the killer appeared?

The injury… had it all been an act?

The one who wanted me dead… must be my husband!

Choking on sobs, I cursed him in my heart, calling him a monster—but my feet never slowed.

My heart pounded wildly under the strain of my desperate sprint.

Then I saw the elevator.

Hope flared in my eyes.

As long as I could get down to the first floor… to the security post—

Gritting my teeth, I darted into the elevator and slammed the button for the first floor.

Then, just before the doors closed, I slipped back out.

I ducked behind a fire hose cabinet in the emergency stairwell.

My husband was a doctor at this hospital. He knew the layout far better than I did.

I couldn't outrun him. I could only hide.

Holding my breath, I didn't dare move, peering from the corner at the figure chasing me.

He scanned the area. When he saw the elevator descending to the first floor, he slammed his fist against the wall in frustration.

Blood flung from the long knife in his hand, splattering so close it nearly reached the stairwell where I hid.

My eyes reddened instantly, my body trembling in terror.

At this hour, there should have been staff on duty at the nurses' station.

Now… I feared the worst.

He glanced out the window toward the ground floor, then jabbed the elevator button impatiently.

The next second, he turned—and walked straight toward where I was hiding.

I nearly slapped myself.

Under pressure, people really do make stupid mistakes.

If the elevator wouldn't come back up, of course, he'd take the stairs.

Just as I braced myself to grab the fire extinguisher and smash him with it—end it all in one blow—

The masked face suddenly pressed up against the glass window of the stairwell door, staring at me with chilling malice.

Even without words, I understood him perfectly.

'Found… you.'

My heart nearly burst from my chest. Instinctively, I raised the fire extinguisher, ready to strike—

But suddenly, a pair of arms appeared behind him, locking tightly around his neck.

My husband's pale face emerged from behind the attacker as he shouted hoarsely, "Cindy, run! Call the police!"

For a moment, I could only stare in disbelief.

My husband?!

With a furious roar, he dragged the killer to the ground, the two of them grappling violently.

A chill ran down my spine, my mind thrown into chaos.

My husband was 183 centimeters tall.

Even with the mask on, the attacker was noticeably shorter—just as the captain had said, around 170.

He was the wanted criminal from the news.

Tears streamed down my face.

But rushing in now would do nothing.

The killer's knife slashed wildly in every direction—if I got close, I'd be cut down instantly.

I sprinted downstairs, dialing the police as I ran.

"Help! The killer is in the hospital—my husband is going to be hacked to death!"

After struggling through the snow, I finally made it to the security booth.

When I saw the two guards—both at least seventy years old—I nearly broke down in despair.

After hearing me out, the police told me not to act rashly. They were on their way.

The moment I hung up, my phone chimed.

A message—from my husband.

[Cindy, the killer went straight after you!

[I can see you now—you're at the security booth, right?

[Listen to me. Go to the underground parking garage. My car is in its usual spot!]

I looked up.

Sure enough, I caught a distant glimpse of his back as he stepped away from a window.

I texted back, asking whether the killer had taken the stairs or the elevator—but there was no reply.

He must have been on his way down, too busy to check his phone.

With no choice but to take a chance, I slipped back into the emergency stairwell.

The hospital was eerily dark tonight. Only a few emergency lights remained, casting a cold, pallid glow along my path.

I tried to steady my ragged breathing, my body shivering uncontrollably from the cold.

At three in the morning, the underground parking garage was utterly silent. No matter how lightly I stepped, I couldn't avoid making some noise. All I could do was pray my luck wouldn't be so terrible as to run straight into the killer.

But of course, the very thing I feared happened.

Not far away, a shadow flickered past.

I dropped into a crouch at once, hiding behind the massive frame of an SUV.

Holding my breath, I peered out, trying to see which direction he would go.

He scanned the surroundings—then suddenly lay flat on the ground.

He was looking through the gaps between the tires… searching for my feet.

My scalp prickled as terror shot through me. I grabbed the car handle, bracing my feet against the side, hauling myself up.

Just before my strength gave out and I slipped, he turned and walked away at a slow pace.

I exhaled sharply, relief crashing over me.

The moment I spotted my husband's license plate, I nearly burst into tears of joy.

But I didn't have the key. I could only unlock it through the mobile app.

And when it unlocked, it would make a loud sound—basically a death sentence.

I gripped my phone tightly, my palms drenched in cold sweat.

Then—

The piercing wail of sirens erupted outside.

The police!

I was going to be saved!

But that shadow returned, striding quickly in my direction.

My hands shook violently. Using the cover of the sirens, I unlocked the car and slipped smoothly inside.

My heart hammered against my ribs.

Holding my breath, I slid down, keeping myself below the line of sight through the windows.

In this life, my husband had been gravely injured because of me. I had to survive.

I pulled out my phone and sent a message to the police captain: [The killer is near Parking Area A, Lot 15. Please come save me!]

Moments later, my phone vibrated in my palm.

It was the captain's reply: [Ms. Parker, you're safe now. Don't be afraid. We've apprehended the suspect on the fourth floor of the hospital. It's the wanted criminal. We're taking him back to the station now.]

What?

The next second, a soft, crisp tapping sound came from above me.

My whole body trembled as I slowly lifted my head.

The masked man rested his head gently against the glass.

Those pitch-black rabbit eyes stared straight at me.