Chapter 2

That was the first time I'd ever seen Liam cry.

He muffled his sobs, burying his face in my shoulder until class ended.

Liam said he'd never forget my belief in him.

My gesture didn't change much.

Liam remained a loner, his grades steadily dropping to average.

It wasn't until two years later that the city brought in a new team of forensic experts to re-examine old cases.

They unexpectedly found a note written in permanent ink inside Mr. Davies' body.

It detailed the distribution and precise map of an illegal manufacturing facility the police had been searching for years.

After Mr. Davies' name was cleared, everyone's attitude towards Liam's family flipped again, as if all the previous harm had just been a nightmare.

His tombstone finally bore Mr. Davies' name.

Honors and medals poured into their home.

Every child who had bullied him was, without exception, beaten black and blue by their parents and dragged to their door, crying apologies.

When I heard about it, I couldn't wait to find Liam.

But all I saw was the lifeless, vacant look in his eyes.

"Avery," Liam said softly, "I contacted the forensic team the week Dad died."

"They turned me away, saying they were short-staffed."

"They told me they needed to prioritize their resources for more urgent cases."

I held his slightly trembling hand.

Those three casual sentences revealed the most painful two years of Liam's life.

Even with all the financial compensation now, it couldn't soothe the pain he had endured.

That night, we solidified our future paths.

Liam chose to enroll in the police academy, taking on his father's badge number.

I enrolled in the nation's top medical school, specializing in forensic science, vowing that no death would remain silent on my watch.

In our junior year, Liam took on a case, a dangerous and highly classified mission.

The day he left, he didn't say anything extra, just smiled easily.

"Avery, if I die, remember to use your forensic skills to speak for me."

After he left, I started to fear that under every shroud, I'd find Liam's face.

Night after night, I had nightmares, dreaming of an endless stream of Liam's bodies being brought to the morgue, piling up into a small mountain.

I needed sleeping pills every night to fall asleep.

The day Liam returned, he wore a baseball cap and a mask, his skin noticeably darker peeking through the gaps.

His team successfully took down the core of the operation, the main hideout.

Having fulfilled his father's dying wish, a smile, long-buried, finally bloomed on his face.

When he saw me, his movements were stiff with nervousness.

He pulled a diamond ring from his chest pocket and asked softly,

"Avery, will you marry me?"

After a moment of stunned silence, I immediately nodded, raising my hand for him to place the ring on my left ring finger.

"I bought this ring before I went on the mission."

Liam lowered his head and kissed the ring, "I was afraid something dangerous would happen, that I'd become a burden to you."

"Thankfully, I came back safe and sound..."

Before he could finish, I kissed him, my eyelashes fluttering.

Our wedding date was set for the day his father's name was finally cleared.

Liam said he wanted to get married with his father's hopes and legacy in mind.

We personally handled all the wedding arrangements.

Making sure every detail was perfect, with no oversight.

On the wedding day, I woke up early.

Every detail had been rehearsed, everything was foolproof.

Yet my nervous heart still pounded.

The clock ticked by, and my mood slowly shifted from nervous excitement to anxious unease.

The time for him to pick me up had long passed.

I hadn't seen a shadow of Liam.

The door burst open, my parents' faces ashen, and they struggled to speak.

"Avery, Liam, he... he seems to have run away."

I dragged my wedding dress to Liam's front door; the pristine white gown was now stained with mud, trailing on the ground like a ragged cloth.

Sweat had smeared my once-perfect makeup and hair, sticking grimy to my hairline.

Before I could even raise my hand to knock, the door opened from the inside.

A real estate agent, seeing me like this, jumped in surprise.

He stammered,

"Can I help you?"

"Mr. Davies has instructed me to rent out this house."

The festive wedding banner by the door had fallen, trampled under messy black footprints, its cheerfulness long gone.

I couldn't hear the end of the agent's sentence, only felt a sudden dizzy spell, and collapsed onto the ground.