Chapter 4

Winter taxis were hard to get. By the time I returned to the apartment, it was already late.

Light filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Someone was already home.

After the miscarriage, I hadn't returned to the apartment Lucas and I shared.

Opening the door, in the warm yellow light, two overlapping figures caught my eyes without warning.

Seeing me, Lucas showed not a trace of panic. He lit a cigarette and slowly exhaled a puff of smoke: "Why are you back so late?"

Miranda's voice was sweet: "Natalie, you just had a miscarriage these past few days. I'm helping you keep Lucas company. You don't mind, do you?"

I didn't respond, just surveyed the apartment before me.

After the miscarriage, I hadn't come back.

Only a few days had passed, yet the apartment had completely changed.

Everything in sight was Miranda's favorite pink. The coat rack by the door was full of her clothes.

This apartment was Lucas's and my first property. Every tile, every lamp was chosen by my own hands.

The painting in the living room was drawn by Lucas—a cartoon version of the two of us. Now it had been replaced with Miranda's portrait.

The swing on the balcony was assembled by Lucas himself so I could get more sun during my leisure time. Now it too had been replaced with Miranda's easel.

The current apartment showed no trace of my life here.

I felt sick to my stomach, but Cookie was still at home. I had to take her away.

Cookie was a puppy Lucas and I raised together.

Lucas found her the winter right after my first miscarriage.

Cookie had been crouched alone by a dumpster, shivering from the cold.

Lucas brought her home as comfort for me.

To me, Cookie was my child. I couldn't possibly leave her with Lucas.

"I'm here to get Cookie." I clenched my fists, nails digging deep into my palms, suppressing the choking in my throat and the nausea churning in my stomach. "Where's Cookie?"

Usually when I came home, Cookie would wag her tail to greet me, but today there was no movement. I couldn't help feeling panicked.

"Cookie?" Miranda laughed lightly and stood up, walking over to me.

"You mean that stray dog? Why would you keep such a crazy dog? Yesterday she tried to steal my Snow's dog food and almost bit me."

I suddenly looked up at her: "What did you do to her?"

"Nothing much." Miranda shrugged, a glint of triumph in her eyes. "Lucas said she doesn't know the rules and made her go out to reflect properly. After all, she's not some precious breed—a little cold won't matter."

At those words, I trembled with rage and used all my strength to slap her.

But the next second, Lucas rushed over and shoved me hard.

My body hadn't recovered. This push made me fall directly to the ground, my knee hitting the tile so hard I gasped in pain.

Looking down, I saw my knee was scraped, blood slowly seeping out.

My lower abdomen began throbbing dully too.

Lucas glanced at me and said coldly: "There are cotton swabs in the drawer. Take care of it yourself."

Then, without another look at me, he carried Miranda upstairs.

I didn't dare delay any longer. Struggling up from the floor, I headed outside.

It was so cold out. Cookie didn't know where she'd gone.

I had to find her.

Fortunately, Cookie was hiding near the apartment and hadn't gone far.

When I found her, she was curled up in the grass, whimpering continuously.

I wrapped her in my coat: "Don't be afraid. Mommy's taking you away."

This time, I didn't look back. Holding Cookie, I went to the train station.

......

When Lucas woke the next day, somehow he thought of the look Natalie had given him yesterday.

He felt instinctively uncomfortable, sensing something was wrong.

So as usual, he skillfully dialed her number to smooth things over, but this time all he heard was a busy signal: "Sorry, the number you have dialed is temporarily unavailable..."