After completing Amelia's death certificate, I stopped by to get her photo printed as a memorial portrait.

When I got back to the Laurent residence, I unexpectedly ran into Amelia, who was bringing Samuel home. Two rosy-cheeked children trailed behind them. The four of them looked every bit like a real family.

When Samuel noticed me, he put on a shy expression that irritated me. "Penny can't bear to be apart from me and didn't want to stay in the hospital, so she brought me home to recover."

The two of them gazed at each other tenderly. It wasn't until I was nearly sick to my stomach that Amelia finally asked, "Where did you go?"

I held up the photo and smiled brightly. "I went and had a memorial portrait printed for Amy."

They looked at the photo in my hand, and their expressions changed.

Amelia reacted the most, her expression turning dark. "Matthew Robinson! What are you doing? First, you brought in a doctor and a priest, and now you're printing a memorial portrait."

I said, "Penelope, Amelia is dead. You wouldn't refuse to give her a funeral, would you? By the way, when will the funeral be held? When are we picking up her ashes?"

My questions left Amelia speechless.

Just then, Charlotte, who had been standing behind Amelia, rushed forward. She pushed me to the ground with all her strength, snatched the photo, and tore it to pieces.

She cried as she said, "I don't want to see Mom's photo. I don't want to!"

Seeing this, Amelia pulled Charlotte into her arms. Amelia said coldly, "Matthew, this is the last time I'll tolerate your nonsense. If it happens again, pack your things and leave the Laurent residence."

Charlotte shot Amelia a smug look, and Amelia met it with an approving smile. Neither of them realized that I had a clear view of the whole exchange from where I was.

Amelia and Charlotte were every bit mother and daughter. Their act was flawless.

I didn't want to stay at the Laurent residence any longer.

I ignored the scrapes on my palms and stumbled to my room. After rummaging through my things, I found a long-forgotten SIM card tucked inside the lining of my suitcase.

I inserted it into my phone and turned it on. Thousands of messages flooded in at once.

I called the only contact saved on the card—Zoey Parker. "Zoey, I want to come home."

On the other end, Zoey's voice was hoarse and edged with disbelief. "Matthew? You've really become bold, running off without saying a single word. I've been worried about you all these years, searching everywhere for you. I was so afraid that—"

I cut her off. "Zoey, I'm in Silverford. Come pick me up and take me home."

"Okay. I'll be in Silverford in three days," Zoey replied.

After hanging up, I sat in a daze for a long time, staring at the head of the bed. The only thing hanging on the wall was my wedding photo. It was the only picture I had of Amelia and me.

Over the past seven years, I could never understand how the young woman I had once pulled from the river—the one who had sat on the riverbank with me, drinking and laughing—had turned into someone so cold.

I opened the frame of the wedding photo, and another photo slipped out. I picked it up and saw that it was the other half of a picture, showing Samuel in a suit, grinning brightly.

My hands trembled as I aligned his half with mine. They matched perfectly, which explained why Amelia had chosen this particular photo to print.

On the back of the photo, it read, "In this life, no one else deserves to stand beside me but you."

Tears streamed down my face. I gripped the photo tightly, wanting to find Amelia and demand an answer regardless of the consequences.

I barged into the chapel and froze at its emptiness. Only then did I remember that she didn't need to keep up the act of being distant and devout anymore.

I tore the chapel apart in a frenzy. When I lifted one of the cushions, I found a hidden compartment packed with photos of Samuel.

Samuel stood behind me and scoffed. "You finally found out."

I stared at him, stunned. "So you knew all along."

He laughed dismissively. "Are you talking about Amy pretending to be Penny, or about these photos?"

He went on, clearly pleased with himself. "These pictures she had worked so hard to find were all carefully taken by me for her. Every single image has her mark on it."

He looked at me smugly, as if I were a clown—the kind who had worn all sorts of revealing outfits to the chapel over the years, only to be ruthlessly kicked out by Amelia every time.

He continued, "Every time you left after trying to seduce her, she would look at these photos and…"

My stomach turned.

Samuel kept smiling the whole time. I lunged at him, but he shoved me down before I could land a hit.

He twirled a lighter between his fingers. "If the chapel caught fire, do you think Amy would save you or these photos?"

He flicked the lighter open, ignited the photo in his hand, and dropped it in front of me. Then he turned around and shut the door behind him.

The chapel was built separately from the villa and was entirely made of wood. The flames instantly spread through it.

I scrambled up and yanked at the door in panic, but someone had locked it from the outside. Thick smoke stung my eyes until I could barely open them. I kept backing away, retreating into a corner where the fire hadn't reached.

Just as I thought I was going to die in there, the door burst open. Samuel and Amelia rushed in together.

I looked at Amelia with pleading eyes. When she saw me lying on the ground, her gaze flickered. But as the flames were about to reach the cushion, she picked it up without hesitation and turned to leave.

Watching her walk away, I finally gave up on her.

Samuel shouted immediately, "Penny, save Matthew!"

He stomped his foot in frustration, then charged into the flames. Just as he got close to me, he shot me a mocking smile, then raised his hand and slapped himself hard across the face.

A loud crack rang out as he fell to the ground. I stared at him in disbelief.

Hearing the sound, Amelia tossed the cushion out the door, then turned and lifted Samuel into her arms. She glared at me with pure hatred. "Since you don't want to leave the fire, just stay here!"

She ordered the panicked housekeepers, who were fetching water, "Don't put out the fire. Wait until he decides to come out and calls for you, then you can help."

I smiled bitterly and closed my eyes. I had stayed by her side for seven years, yet I still meant less than those photos.

…

I didn't die.

When I opened my eyes again, the sharp smell of disinfectant hit me. Meeting Charlotte's red, swollen eyes, I felt both relieved and regretful.

Amelia's eyes were bloodshot, and exhaustion was written all over her face. "Matthew, if you want to die, go find somewhere quiet and do it on your own. Don't drag others down with you. Sam was kind enough to go in after you, but you almost got him killed."

I gave a mocking smile.

Amelia snapped, "What are you laughing at? He's still unconscious next door from the shock. You have to apologize to him later!"

Charlotte's voice broke as she spoke. "Dad, you were playing with fire and put everyone at risk. Uncle Samuel tried to save you, but you knocked him down. You really do owe him an apology."

This time, I couldn't hold it back and laughed out loud. "Penelope, Charlotte, so you've been waiting at my bedside just to make me apologize?"

Amelia was stunned for a moment. Just as she was about to speak, a nurse came over and said that Samuel was awake. The two of them rushed out to the next room.

I slowly closed my eyes and let the tears slide down.

Three days feels like such a long time.

Before I could open my eyes, Amelia yanked me up. "Sam is blaming himself for your injuries and crying over it. Go and explain things to him!"

When a piece of wood had fallen in the fire, I had instinctively raised my arm to block it, injuring myself. Now, as she gripped my burned arm tightly, the pain made me flinch instinctively.

She frowned. "What are you doing?"

I looked up at her sadly. "Penelope, I'm not doing anything. I just wanted to follow Amelia into death. Is that not allowed?"

Her grip loosened slightly, and there seemed to be a trace of hesitation in her eyes.

Just then, Samuel's son, Jonathan Bennett, came running in, crying. "Something's wrong. Dad passed out from crying."

Hearing his words, Amelia dragged me along ruthlessly. The bandages on my arms and legs tore loose, scraping my wounds against the floor, but she ignored them.

She hauled me to Samuel's bedside and forced me onto my knees. "If Sam doesn't wake up, you'll have to stay on your knees until he sees that you're fine and forgives you."

The burns on my arms and legs seared with pain, but no matter how bad they were, they couldn't compare to the pain in my heart.

Samuel lay on the bed with his eyes shut, his eyelids twitching faintly.

I shouted in resignation, "Samuel, I'm sorry!"

My voice was loud enough to draw a crowd from the hallway, and only then did Samuel slowly stir awake.

I looked up. "Penelope, may I go back to my bed for treatment now?"

Amelia stared at the blood on the floor, frowning in silence. Charlotte was already looking at me with undisguised contempt.

Under Samuel's smug gaze, I braced myself and crawled out of the room.

Just as I reached the doorway, I heard him speak in a soft, coaxing tone. "Penny, Matthew's wounds look pretty bad. I'm a little scared."

Because of his words, they moved me to a general ward downstairs, saying that the private rooms were full.

In the end, I was placed in the hallway of the ward.

Throughout the night, I listened to the coughing of the patients in the hallway, my body burning with pain as I waited for dawn.

On the third day, Amelia planned a grand proposal for Samuel.

Samuel pleaded with her, "We have to get Matthew's blessing. We're a family, after all."

My burns hadn't healed yet, but they made me leave the hospital early.

Just as I was about to get into the car, Jonathan, who was sitting in the back seat, shut the door with a look of disgust. "Dad, I don't want to sit with Uncle Matthew. He smells."

"Sorry about that, Matthew. Jonathan's still young and doesn't know any better," Samuel said.

But despite the apology, he didn't move to open the door.

Charlotte hesitated for a moment, but after mumbling something, she turned and looked straight ahead.

I said blankly, "I'll take a cab."

…

After returning to the Laurent residence, the housekeepers stayed far away whenever they saw me.

I summoned what little strength I had left and made my way back to my room. I took out my phone and saw a message from Zoey. "I'll pick you up at 2:00 pm."

Along with her message came a video.

She had sent another message after that. "You're a Robinson. Stop letting them walk all over you."

I checked the time and found that there were still three hours left.

I opened WhatsApp and added the son of the old man who had been in the bed next to mine the night before. I sent him the agreed payment and asked him to drop something off at the police station at 1:30 pm.

Once that was done, I sat quietly and listened as the noise rose from downstairs.

A moment later, Samuel brought me a set of clothes. "Matthew, I prepared these clothes for you."

I glanced at the so-called outfit. It was made of barely any fabric, and the quality was poor. Even a male escort would dress better than this.

I looked at him with a faint, humorless smile.

His eyes burned with fury. "Even at a time like this, you still dare to act so arrogantly!"

But the moment Amelia appeared, his expression shifted. He said in an aggrieved tone, "Matthew doesn't seem to like the clothes I prepared for him. My arms are sore from holding them up, but he still won't take them."

Amelia frowned, her eyes full of impatience as she looked at me. She called over the housekeeper, Sophia Caldwell. "Sophia, turn what he's wearing into the style of a suit. Since he doesn't like what Sam picked out, you design something for him."

The housekeepers had never shown me any respect over the years.

After receiving Amelia's order, Sophia approached me with scissors and began cutting into my clothes. The fresh cuts overlapped with my earlier burns, making me bleed again. I groaned in pain, but I could only watch helplessly as she cut my clothes to pieces.

Amelia's expression hardened. "Enough."

Samuel was startled, and Amelia pulled him away. Before leaving, he turned and shot me a mocking glance.

I clutched my shoulders and curled up on the floor, staring at my phone. A familiar ringtone sounded, and I quickly picked it up.

"I'm in the garden. Come down," Zoey said.

I followed the sound of rotor blades to the garden of the Laurent residence.

The garden was packed with people. Samuel stood there, his smile polished. Two children stood beside him, looking like a flower boy and a flower girl.

Amelia wore a gown. At the crescendo of the music, she went down on one knee.

At that exact moment, the helicopter's downdraft scattered the crowd as it landed in the middle of the garden. I dragged my exhausted body through the crowd, took Zoey's hand, and collapsed into her arms.

Before I lost consciousness, I heard her murmur, "How did you get yourself into such a state?"

Just then, the doorbell of the Laurent residence rang.

The butler opened the door, and police officers walked in. "We apologize for the interruption, Mr. Bennett. You're currently under suspicion of deliberate arson resulting in bodily harm."

Amelia didn't seem to have recovered from the helicopter's sudden arrival and departure. She grabbed one of the officers by the arm. "What are you talking about? Matthew was the one who started the fire."

Then she called out to Sophia, who was standing behind her, "Where is Matthew? Get him down here!"

Sophia didn't dare speak.

One of the other housekeepers answered cautiously, "Mr. Robinson seems to have left on the helicopter just now."