The Storm Begins with a Whisper

Four years after marrying Wesley Coleman, Emma Payne is expecting a baby. She shows up at the hospital with her forms to get registered, but when the nurse runs her info, she tells her that the marriage certificate isn't valid. Emma simply can't believe it. "No way. That can't be right." The nurse taps on the stamp. "Look at that. The seal is all crooked, and the code doesn't check out." Emma isn't convinced yet. She rushes to the courthouse, but they tell her the same thing. "Mr. Coleman is married, and his spouse's name is Sandra Payne." The news hits her like a ton of bricks. Her mind just goes blank. Sandra Payne is Emma's half-sister. Worst of all, she is also Wesley's first love. Years ago, she went abroad to chase her dreams. She never showed up to her own wedding and left Wesley heartbroken. And now, she is actually his legal wife. Chapter 1 Emma Payne left the courthouse like a wreck. She was totally out of it and barely able to walk straight. She held it together until she got into the taxi that pulled up for her. Then, the tears she had been fighting back finally started falling. Four years ago, she married Wesley Coleman in Sandra Payne's place after Sandra backed out of the wedding to save their families from disgrace. Wesley gave Emma the cold shoulder at the start. But she never complained and took care of him. Eventually, he warmed up to her after all the time spent together. He even started putting up with her throwing off his plans. He would listen to her lame jokes without interrupting. He even trusted her enough to handle the confidential documents. Later on, he treated her more and more kindly. He got her an unlimited credit card and took her to many famous restaurants. Even if she got a craving for peanut butter cookies from the north side in the middle of the night, he would drive halfway across the city to get them for her. He even pinched her cheek and said dotingly, "You're such a foodie. I've never seen anyone as obsessed with snacks as you." Emma believed she had finally won Wesley over. But that all came crashing down two months ago when Sandra came back, sick with cancer. Adam Payne, Emma's dad, gathered everyone for a family meeting that night. Looking her dead in the eye, he announced, "Sandra's cancer is at the end stage. The doctors say she has less than half a year left. "Her biggest regret is not marrying Wesley. We need you to just disappear for a while. When the wedding is done and she isn't around anymore, he will still be yours." Jamie Valentine, Emma's stepmom, pleaded, "Sandra is your sister. Can't you just give in for her?" Sandra bawled her eyes out. "This is my last wish. Please let me have it." Emma couldn't believe what she was hearing. Tears welled up in her eyes as she confronted them, her voice shaking with hurt. "Back then, you treated me like a pawn to take her place, and now you want him to marry her. You can't be serious. I won't accept this." Adam dismissed everything Emma said and grounded her. She wasn't going anywhere until she said yes. Three days later, she heard that Wesley had lost it in front of Adam. He was so mad that he threw a cup. On the 13th day, a headline popped up on her phone. Wesley had publicly declared, "Emma is the one and only Mrs. Coleman." He took it further on day 28. He suspended all business deals with the Payne family to force them to give Emma back. She spent an entire month locked in her room before someone finally came to open the door. Thinking about everything Wesley had done for her, Emma burst into tears. She didn't bother wearing her shoes as she threw herself into his embrace. But the next second, his voice cracked as he spoke. "Forgive me, Em. Mr. and Mrs. Payne were stubborn about it. They even got down on their knees and begged me. "For the sake of the bond between our families, I had to go along with this charade for Sandra. It's just a fake marriage to get through this. In my heart, you're my only wife." At that moment, her stomach sank, and her chest tightened. She could barely catch her breath from the pain. Emma froze for a second, then softly brushed Wesley's hollow cheek. She felt a pang for him as tears rolled down her face. "You did your best." Later, she watched him slip the diamond ring onto Sandra's finger in front of everyone at the grand wedding. After all that, he still treated her just as well as he always had. But he gradually started spending more and more time with Sandra. He went from dropping by now and then to not even coming home for several nights in a row. When she got upset with him, he patiently explained, "My heart isn't with Sandra. I just want to be there for her as a friend until the end." Emma trusted Wesley's explanation. She never expected reality to hit her like a slap in the face. … The taxi came to a stop in front of Coleman Tower. Emma pulled herself together, clutching the fake marriage certificate in her hands. Emma ran into Casey Paulson, Wesley's secretary, as soon as she got off the elevator. She looked a little tense when she saw Emma. "What brings you here, Mrs. Coleman?" Emma responded, "I need to talk to Wesley." Casey said, "Mr. Coleman is in a meeting right now. He's not available." Emma brushed past the secretary and hurried to the office door. Just as she was about to push it open, she heard Sandra's voice inside. "Look me in the eye and answer me, Wesley." Sandra pulled Wesley close by his tie, pressing her other hand on his chest. "Admit it. You've never gotten over me." His throat tightened. Her touch felt like it was burning through his shirt as he drew in a sharp breath. Even so, his tone was dismissive. "Don't flatter yourself." She giggled. "Are you sure? We both know you pretended to settle for Emma because I was gone. Why else would you marry me so fast after I come back? "What about all those things you wrote in your diary? You said the only reason you agreed to marry Emma was to force me to come back—" Sandra was mid-sentence when Wesley suddenly grabbed the back of her neck and silenced her with a fierce, demanding kiss. His gaze was burning as he bit out each word. "You're right. I never got over you. So how are you going to make this up to me, Sandra?" Emma stood frozen outside the door, feeling a chill that went straight to her bones. Her body went numb, and she couldn't feel anything. The memory flooded back. Wesley held her close, kissing her hair and whispering, "Sandra is the past, Emma. You're the only one I care about now." Everything was so laughable. His devotion was just a bunch of empty lies, and their marriage had never been real. She slowly closed her eyes, fighting hard to hold back her tears. Since he had made his decision, she would step aside and free him to be with the woman he really loved. Chapter 2 Emma spaced out and got on the elevator. The next thing she knew, she was already on the basement level. An eager intern came right up to her. "You're here for Ms. Payne's exhibition, right? Right this way." It finally hit Emma that she had forgotten to press the button for her floor. Without even thinking, she wandered into the exhibition hall. The intern trailed behind her, enthusiastically saying, "Mr. Coleman sponsored the exhibition, and it'll soon kick off a nationwide tour." Emma found herself staring at a painting of a shirtless man from behind. His toned physique might be captivating, but what really grabbed her attention was the distinctive scar right above his waist. She had traced the outline of the scar countless times in the dark. Of course, she knew exactly who the man in the painting was. Sandra had made portrait after portrait of Wesley. The dates in the corner were clear as day and hard to look at. In the painting dated June 20th, Wesley was in the kitchen, his back outlined by a warm glow. That was Emma's third day locked up. She had been in so much pain from hunger that she had blacked out, while he had been in the kitchen making oatmeal for Sandra. The bottom of another painting read July 1st. A pair of hands with prominent knuckles folded a silk nightgown embroidered with irises. A wedding ring glinted coldly on the ring finger. That marked the 13th day Emma had been locked away in her room. She had slit her wrists in protest, her blood soaking half the sheets. Meanwhile, he was meticulously putting away Sandra's clothes. The painting dated July 15th showed him walking under the trees with an umbrella. At the very edge of the painting, his fingers were vaguely intertwined with someone else's. Emma was locked up for 28 days. Adam had resorted to chaining her to the bed, desperate to make her give in. Burning up with fever, she had curled into a ball on sweat-soaked sheets. On the other hand, Wesley had been out for a morning walk with Sandra, swinging Sandra's hand in his. Each painting was like a knife to Emma's chest. For the whole time Emma was in hell, Wesley wasn't even fighting for her. He was just with Sandra. Wesley had smashed the cup in front of Adam to declare his love for Emma. He had even canceled the contract with Payne Group. But everything was merely a lie to hide the truth. Emma clenched her fists so tightly that her nails dug into her palms, but she felt nothing. She couldn't take it anymore and walked right out of the exhibition. … Emma scheduled her abortion for the following week. After that, she headed over to the Payne residence to pick up the things left behind by Helena Meyer, her mom. But as soon as she got home, Adam tossed a plane ticket to her. "I talked to Jamie. We want Sandra to stay with Wesley until her final moment. I've got you a flight leaving in ten days. Why don't you go for a trip and clear your head?" Emma pursed her lips as she clutched the ticket. She knew exactly that Adam wanted to kick her out, so Wesley and Sandra could have the place to themselves. After all, she was the only one who had to disappear, so they could be alone without holding back. Jamie's eyes were red as she repeated the same old excuse Emma was already tired of hearing. "Please don't get the wrong idea, Em. We just want Sandra to finish her last journey in peace." Emma calmly cut in. "Got it. I'll leave." She had given up on Wesley and her family entirely. Adam was surprised that Emma agreed so readily. He took it as a sign that her spirit had been crushed at last. He softened his tone. "Sandra's farewell gathering is in three days. We expect you to be there." "Got it," Emma replied. Back at her place, she pulled out a cardboard box and started packing up everything that reminded her of Wesley. She added the pair of mugs he had given her on her birthday, the ticket stubs from their first movie date, and those silly photo booth pictures she made him take. Emma was almost done packing when she heard the front door open. Wesley was back. His heart sank when he saw the box stuffed with all their things. He quickly moved closer and asked, "What are you doing, Em?" Chapter 3 Emma kept her head down, refusing to make eye contact. "Isn't Sandra moving in? I'm just cleaning up my things, so she doesn't get upset when she sees them." Wesley grabbed her wrist and pulled her into his arms. "Are you still mad at me?" She muttered, "No." He remarked, "You're a terrible liar, Emma." He tilted her chin up, making her look him in the eyes. "How many times do I have to say it? It was all an act. If I really wanted to marry her, I would have made it happen years ago." Emma looked into his eyes and suddenly laughed. Her voice was soft, but her words were crystal clear. "You know exactly who you want to marry." The sudden ring of a phone drowned out her words. Wesley took one look at who was calling and picked it up right away. He quickly wrapped up the call and mentioned that something had come up at work before rushing off. Watching him leave like that, she suddenly realized that confronting him didn't even matter anymore. After all, some relationships were like expired candy. It looked fine on the surface, but it was rotten underneath. Trying to eat it would only leave a nasty aftertaste. Wesley had just walked out when Emma's phone buzzed. She received a message from Sandra. In the photo, Wesley was down on one knee, holding Sandra's ankle carefully in his hands as he focused on tying an anklet. Emma suddenly remembered dragging Wesley to the metaphysical store in the past. She had crouched inside the store forever, trying to pick an anklet. When she turned around, she saw him standing a few steps back, checking his watch with an annoyed look. He had said, "I can't believe you buy into these silly superstitions." Just as Emma was lost in thought, Sandra's message came through. "All I did was mention I wasn't feeling well, and Wesley immediately went to the metaphysical store to get me the lucky anklet. Did he ever go out of his way like that for you? Wake up, Emma. He never loved you." Emma clenched her phone. The screen's harsh glow lit up her face, illuminating her icy expression. That was true. He never loved her, and she was done hoping he ever would. … Wesley didn't come home for the next two days. Emma didn't run into him again until Sandra's farewell gathering on the third day. Dressed in a sharp black suit, he slowly pushed the wheelchair through the crowd. Sandra sat in it with a blanket over her legs, looking so fragile and delicate. All Sandra did was tilt her chin up slightly, and Wesley immediately bent down to ask her what was wrong. Seeing this, Emma smirked in disdain. He kept saying he was just putting on a show with Sandra. But the look in his eyes when he glanced her way was full of love, like he did four years ago. Soon, the farewell gathering began. With tears in his eyes, Adam told everyone about Sandra's illness and said, "Sandra is unlucky, but she is also blessed. She doesn't have much time left, but she has a family who loves her deeply and a devoted partner who stays by her side." The big screen lit up, showing a slideshow of photos of Sandra growing up. On her first birthday, Adam and Jamie threw a grand birthday party for her. When she was ten, Adam taught her how to play the piano, guiding her hands himself. At 18, her family was there at her graduation, beaming and holding each other. In all the photos, Emma faded into the background, witnessing the happiness that was never hers. The scene changed, and now the photos showed Wesley with Sandra. One captured him congratulating her with a bouquet after she took first place. Another showed him sitting quietly as her model while she painted. In their wedding photos, they held each other tight. They grew from kids in school uniforms to adults in formal attire, but the devotion in his eyes never faded. Just as everyone was lost in the heartfelt moment, the photos on the screen suddenly vanished, switching to crimson text on a black background. "Go to hell, Sandra! You took my man. Just like your mother, you're nothing but a husband-stealing whore. I hope you never rest. Even in death, you'll suffer forever in the darkest pits of hell." The air in the room went dead. Then, the place erupted. Chapter 4 All eyes instinctively turned to Emma. Emma stood there in a daze. Before she could figure out what was going on, Jamie called out in a panic, "Sandra!" Sandra had fainted after seeing the red text. Wesley's face went pale. He picked her up and carried her out of the room to the hospital. Emma's mind went completely blank. It wasn't until a sharp slap landed across her face that she suddenly snapped back to reality. Adam was furious, glaring at her with a vein throbbing at his temple. "Where did I go wrong? How did you turn out like this? How could you curse her like that when she's already so ill?" Emma stumbled back a few steps, knocking over the champagne tower by accident. Alcohol was spilled everywhere. She fell into the pile of broken glass, wincing in pain as she explained, "It wasn't me." Adam snapped, "Shut up! You've always been jealous of the attention Sandra gets, but she isn't going to be around much longer. How can you be so heartless? Take this ungrateful wretch out of my sight and lock her up." … Emma was shoved into a dark room. She had been afraid of the dark since she was a kid, and her claustrophobia made it worse. The moment the door slammed shut, she felt like she couldn't breathe. Darkness closed in on her from every direction like a rising tide. She pounded on the door with her bloodied hands, leaving vivid streaks behind. "Open up. I'm begging you. Let me out." But there was only silence from the other side. She slowly slid down onto the floor, completely drained. Her chest tightened with each rapid breath. She had no idea how long had passed. Just as she was about to black out, the door opened, and she crawled out in a rush. The next moment, a bucket of foul salt water poured down on her. A second bucket followed, and then the third. Emma choked as she gasped for air. Her vision went fuzzy, but she still managed to make out a familiar figure by the door—Wesley. He stood on the line between light and shadow, watching coldly as his men threw bucket after bucket of salt water at her. He never once told them to stop until the last bucket was empty. He slowly walked over to her, bent down, and wiped her cheek with a silk handkerchief. But his words were sharp and cruel. "Sandra is awake. She doesn't blame you for cursing her and forgives you. She even said it wasn't really you who did it, but you were possessed." He paused. "I had my men prepare the salt water for you. It's supposed to ward off evil spirits, but it won't do anything unless you're soaked in it for 72 hours." A hint of horror flickered in Emma's eyes. She desperately grabbed Wesley's hand. "I had nothing to do with the crimson words. You have to believe me." He slowly pried her fingers off his hand, cruel to the last. "Actions have consequences, Emma. Even a child gets that." Feeling the last bit of warmth leaving her hand, she tried one last time to say something, but it just sounded pitiful and pleading. "Please don't leave me here. I'm afraid of the dark." His gaze was icy. "What about Sandra? When you wrote the message, did it ever cross your mind that she might be scared too?" Emma momentarily zoned out, lost in the memory of a thunderstorm years ago. The power went out, and she curled up in the corner, shaking in fear. Wesley filled the house with candlelight, wrapped her in his arms, and gently rubbed her back. "Don't be scared, Em. I'm right here." But that same man was the one shoving her into a living nightmare now. A brutal, wrenching pain seized her belly without warning. She doubled over, her hand flying to her stomach. Then, she felt a warm liquid trickling down her thighs. It dawned on her that this could be a miscarriage. Trembling, she grabbed his pants, her voice cracking with panic. "I'm bleeding, Wesley. I think I'm losing the baby. I'm begging you. You have to take me to the hospital." Wesley stopped in his tracks and frowned. "You're not even pregnant. How could you be having a miscarriage?" Emma was in so much pain that she could barely see. "It's true. I have your baby inside me." He didn't buy it and snapped before leaving, "Enough! I'll come back for you in three days." A broken whimper tore from her lips. She scraped her nails against the ground, but her desperate effort wasn't enough to stop him from walking away. Her trembling hand grabbed the empty air before giving up and falling. She collapsed into the pool of blood. Before fainting, she laughed bitterly. In that moment, Emma finally saw Wesley for who he truly was. Chapter 5 When Emma came to, she was in a hospital bed. The doctor sighed and looked at her with pity in her eyes. "You're finally awake. You lost a dangerous amount of blood from the miscarriage. If you had gotten here any later, we wouldn't have been able to bring you back." Emma learned from the doctor that she had survived because the housekeeper had found her unconscious the next day while delivering food. "Your family is unbelievable. How could they treat you like this? Your husband, of all people, won't even pick up his phone. When he shows up here, I'm giving him a piece of my mind." Emma interrupted the doctor, her fingers clutching the sheets, "You can't tell him I was pregnant." Wesley wouldn't believe her anyway. His heart wasn't with her anymore, and she wanted nothing to do with him. The doctor looked like she wanted to say something, but in the end, she just shook her head and left. Wesley couldn't be bothered to visit Emma in the hospital, but he was all over Sandra's social media. The first day was a close-up of a bowl of chicken soup. The caption read, "Ten years, and it's still my favorite." The next day, Sandra posted a photo of a man asleep by her bedside. She wrote, "Woke up from a nightmare. There's nothing better than opening my eyes to this." Emma suddenly remembered that whenever she got sick, Wesley would always make her chicken soup. When she was burning with fever, he would stay by the bed like that too, holding her hand and refusing to let go. The realization dawned on her. All that care and attention was never for her. He was only loving her because she reminded him of Sandra. On the day she was discharged, he finally called, "Something urgent with the company came up. I'm sending a chauffeur to pick you up." She didn't argue or demand an explanation. She just replied flatly, "Alright." When the call ended, she gently touched her belly. At this point, Wesley was just a name in Emma's contacts that she was about to delete. She wasn't going to waste any more hope on him. … Emma came home to find Sandra in the living room, holding a palette and freely painting all over the wall. All her photos with Wesley were thrown on the floor, splattered with paint. Seeing Emma, Sandra smirked. "You're back, Em. The wall was begging for a new look. I figured it needed a major upgrade. I hope you don't mind." Emma glanced at the mess and replied indifferently, "Whatever." This place hadn't felt like home for ages. It was clear she wasn't going to be the lady of the house much longer. Just then, Wesley walked out of the kitchen with a plate of cut fruit. He noticed Emma going up the stairs and blocked her path. "Sandra is trying to be the bigger person here. Watch your attitude." Emma's pale face showed nothing but weariness. "What do you want? Am I supposed to grovel at her feet and thank her for ruining the photos?" Sandra quickly smoothed things over. "Don't be too hard on her, Wesley. Em doesn't mean it." Wesley remarked, "If she didn't mean to, then why would she say something so horrible to you?" He looked at Emma like she was a stranger. "You really let me down, Emma." She was too drained to argue with him. She shouldered past him and went upstairs. She was still physically wrecked from the abortion. She had only been lying down for a minute when the door was pushed open. Sandra appeared in the doorway, her gentle look completely wiped away by outright scorn. She snickered. "Does it bother you to see Wesley sticking up for me? I warned you that he was just playing games with you. I can't believe you were dumb enough to fall for it." Emma rolled over. She didn't want to waste her breath and pulled the covers over her head. But Sandra closed in on Emma, refusing to drop it. "Do you know what everyone is saying about you? Word is you spent four years in bed with your brother-in-law and ended up empty-handed. Even the escorts working in the night scene get paid. "Stop fooling yourself, Emma. The Payne family doesn't need you. Wesley doesn't want you anymore. You and your mom are both nothing but baggage." The mention of Helena was the last straw. Emma's head jerked up, and she glared daggers at Sandra. "Why are you so mad? Are you afraid that he actually fell for me over these four years?" Sandra was momentarily taken aback, then snorted. Her eyes were filled with contempt. "Would he seriously fall for you? If he were truly in love with you, would I have the chance to put you down like this?" Moments later, a loud bang echoed as the door shut. Emma clutched her sheets, feeling a deep chill settle in. Luckily, she was getting out of here soon. She wouldn't have to deal with these awful people anymore. Chapter 6 The day before she left the country, Emma went to the church surrounded by giant trees. Ever since the miscarriage, she had nightmares every night about a baby covered in blood crying out to her. She reached out to a priest to lay the baby's spirit to rest. But when she got to the church, she saw a tall man kneeling right in the front. She recognized his silhouette immediately. Someone started, "Didn't you hear? Mr. Coleman's soulmate is terminally ill. He walked all the way up from the base of the mountain to get a blessing for her." The next person added, "The final stretch is so dangerous that he almost fell right off the cliff. He almost didn't make it." The murmurs of other people in the church reached Emma. Emma froze in her tracks. She could see the bandage on Wesley's arm, and blood was already soaking through. She remembered he didn't believe in God. He never set foot in churches and refused to have any religious icons at home. He won a rosary from a church at Plefvine at the company party, but he just quickly handed it to his assistant, Skyler Wright. Even when she wanted to visit Helena's grave, he just stubbed out his cigarette and muttered dismissively, "She's gone. Putting flowers on a grave is just for the living to feel better." But right now, he was on the cold floor before the altar, groveling like a true believer. Emma sneered. A wave of bitter irony washed over her. It turned out that Wesley wasn't an atheist. He just never cared enough to beg for a miracle before. … By the time Emma left the church, it was almost sunset. A cool wind blew through the valley, so she wrapped her coat closer. She was heading down the stone steps when a dark figure darted out from the trees right in front of her. Everything happened in a flash. Before she could even cry for help, the person covered her face, and she was knocked out cold. When she opened her eyes, she found herself sitting against a large tree. A few paramedics were frantically rushing a stretcher toward the cliff's edge. "Hurry. The victim is down there." Emma staggered to her feet. Before she could make sense of anything, a tall figure walked up to her, his presence cold and abrupt. Wesley snapped, "When you threatened Sandra, I thought it was just anger talking, Emma. I didn't think you would actually push her off a cliff." He had her by the throat, slamming her back against the tree behind her. "It's a miracle Sandra survived that fall because of the rocks. Otherwise, I would have made you pay with your life." Her breath caught in her throat. When she met his furious glare, everything suddenly clicked in her mind. She choked out her words. "I didn't do it." Wesley's tone was sharp enough to draw blood. "Don't even try to deny it. You and Sandra were both here, and now she's at the bottom of the cliff. How in the world is this just a coincidence, Emma?" Emma clawed at Wesley's hand, struggling to breathe. Just as she was about to suffocate, Skyler rushed over, panting heavily. "We got her, Mr. Coleman. She's safe." Hearing that, Wesley immediately let go of Emma and took off running toward Sandra. Emma doubled over, coughing hard. With blurry vision, she saw Sandra on the stretcher, grabbing Wesley's sleeve. Her face was pale as she murmured, "I'm so scared, Wesley." Wesley squeezed Sandra's hand and said firmly, "I'm here now. No one is going to hurt you." He carefully helped her into the ambulance, then turned and said something to Skyler. The next moment, Skyler came back to Emma, clamping a hand on her arm. "Forgive my offense, Ms. Emma." Without missing a beat, he dragged her to the edge of the cliff and shoved her over. The feeling of freefall ended abruptly when she landed hard on a rock. The impact sent a brutal pain through her bones. Looking over the edge, he said coldly, "Mr. Coleman said you went too far this time. This is your punishment. Now you get to feel what Ms. Sandra felt." The sound of footsteps faded, and she was left by herself. Her whole body was in agony. She tried climbing up a few times, gritting her teeth through the pain. But she just couldn't make it. Emma curled up on the cold rocks, feeling completely overwhelmed by despair. She wanted to confront Wesley. Why would she try to kill Sandra when she was already dying? Deep down, she knew the truth, and it was even colder than the freezing mountain wind. In Wesley's eyes, she would never measure up to Sandra, and he would never believe a word she said. … With no cell service up in the mountains, Emma knew she couldn't just wait around to be rescued. She forced herself to get up. Her nails dug into the cracks in the rock, her palms scraping raw. She fell over and over, but she kept pulling herself back up. She pushed through failure after failure, leaving her battered and bloodied. In the end, she finally climbed back up. With the gondola closed for the night, Emma had to drag her beaten-up body all the way down the mountain. By the time she got home, the sun was starting to come up. She barely managed to clean her wounds before collapsing into bed and passing out. She was still groggy when the door flew open. The next thing she knew, she was yanked out of bed and thrown onto the cold floor. Chapter 7 "You almost killed Sandra, Emma. How can you just sleep right now?" Emma lifted her head and saw Adam's eyes blazing with anger. Next to him, Jamie looked down, crying her eyes out. Jamie's voice was choked up, and tears streamed down her face. "Sandra doesn't have much time left, Em. Why won't you just leave her alone? We moved past what happened at the farewell gathering, but you were literally trying to take her life." Emma clenched her fist, nails digging deep into the flesh of her palm. She was sick of Jamie's phony act. Struggling to stand up, she spat out the words, "I didn't write those words at the farewell gathering, and I didn't push her off the cliff. You let Sandra set me up again and again. How do you think this is going to end for you?" A stinging slap landed on her cheek. She staggered backward, tasting blood in her mouth. Adam trembled with rage. "You little brat! That is exactly what Helena used to do. She always blames everyone else, and now you're doing it too." Jamie patted Adam on the back. "Take it easy, Adam. This is on me. I didn't raise her right—" Adam cut Jamie off sharply, his eyes locked on Emma, "It's not your fault." He continued, "Since you're so full of yourself, you're no longer my daughter." After saying his piece, Adam stormed out with Jamie, slamming the door behind him. Right then, lightning tore across the sky, and the rain started pouring down. Emma fell to the floor in a heap. She wrapped her arms around her legs, buried her face in her arms, and wept without making a sound. In her daze, she could almost hear Helena's final words again. She felt a weak but firm grip on her hand. The words came out in a faint whisper, yet they were unmistakable. "Take care of yourself out there, Em. I'll be watching you from the stars." All these years, she had pushed herself to eat properly and get to bed on time. She just wanted to prove to Helena that she could thrive without Adam's love. But where did that get her? Emma murmured under her breath, her tears soaking through the fabric of her pants at the knees, "I must be such a disappointment to you now, Mom." Outside, the storm kept raging. She curled up in her own arms and cried herself to sleep. … When Emma woke up, she found herself on the couch in the living room. She had no idea how she got here. The fire crackled in the fireplace. Wesley sat beside it, holding a cigarette between his fingers. A haze of smoke drifted up from it. Her voice was faint and raspy, her throat raw with pain. "Wesley." At the sound of her voice, he turned his head. The gentle look he used to have was replaced by a cold one. "You're awake." She tried to sit up, but she didn't have any strength left. "How did I get here?" Wesley didn't respond to her question. Instead, he said calmly, "I was on my way to pick you up yesterday, but Sandra's exhibit went up in flames. Every single one of her paintings is gone." Emma's heart sank. She realized what he was implying and quickly explained, "I didn't set the fire. I had nothing to do with any of it. Just look into it—" He cut her off softly, but his gaze was so cold and distant that it scared her. "Sandra's biggest dream was to be a painter, Emma. Those paintings meant everything to her. There's no way she would destroy her own work." Her hands started shaking. "What are you trying to say?" Wesley stood up, looming over Emma with a disapproving look. "I haven't told Adam or Sandra that it was you. But you're not getting away from this. It's time you learned how it feels to have something you care about destroyed." Only then did she realize that he was holding the doll Helena had made for her before she died. He clenched his fist slowly, crushing the doll in his palm. "I know how much this means to you. How much would it tear you apart if I just destroyed it?" She scrambled off the couch, lunging toward him. "No!" Helena had made this doll for Emma when she was ten, stitching it together by hand while she was sick. Even though Helena was too sick to hold the needle properly, she insisted on finishing it. In her final moments, she pressed it into Emma's hands and murmured, "I won't be around to watch you grow up, Em. Look at this doll whenever you want to feel close to me." Later on, Emma secretly stitched Helena's cremation jewelry into the doll. She slept holding it every night, clinging to it through one difficult night after another. But now, Wesley actually wanted to destroy it. He snapped, "I promised you everything would return to normal after Sandra left. You're the one misbehaving." With that, he raised his hand and threw the doll into the fireplace. A heartbroken scream tore from her throat as she scrambled toward the flames. "No!" She plunged her arms into the fire, ignoring the searing pain as she desperately reached for the burning doll. She trembled as she clutched the ruined doll to her chest, her tears soaking into the burned cloth. Footsteps echoed behind her. Wesley passed by and left the room without looking back. She spent the whole night sobbing over the doll. … Early the next morning, Emma walked out of the villa, clutching the charred doll and pulling her suitcase behind her. She was almost at the gate when Sandra wheeled into her path, blocking her way. She rasped out, "Get out of my way." Sandra sneered. "Why are you so upset, Em? After you leave, I doubt we'll get another chance to meet. Adam and Wesley are convinced that you're heartless. They'll never let you come back home." Emma looked up coldly. "Good. That's exactly what I want. Besides, you'll be dead soon. We won't be seeing each other again." Hearing that, Sandra burst out laughing. "You actually bought the story that I was dying, Emma?" Without warning, she rose from her wheelchair and started walking toward Emma. "That was all just a trick to fool Wesley. When I revealed that it was a misdiagnosis, he'll be overjoyed." She leaned closer to Emma's ear. "Do you want to hear a secret? Your marriage certificate with Wesley is fake. I'm his legal spouse." She dropped that bombshell and waited for Emma to crack, but things didn't play out the way she wanted. Emma's knuckles turned white as she clutched the handle of her suitcase, but her face remained calm. "Then I wish you both all the happiness in the world." After saying that, she turned and walked out of the gate without looking back. Standing at the curb, Emma was waiting for a taxi when Wesley's black sedan pulled up slowly beside her. He rolled down the window and asked, "Are you leaving?" She hummed in acknowledgment. His tone was solemn. "Maybe we should just take a break to cool off. When you come back, we can finally sit down and work this out." She didn't respond and got in the taxi without saying anything. Seeing his car pull away, she thought to herself, "You're going to regret treating me like this once you find out the truth, Wesley." When the taxi took off, Emma took one last look at the villa that had witnessed all her joy and pain. Her expression was now utterly lifeless. She looked away and muttered, "Take me to the airport." The two cars headed in opposite directions, mirroring how their lives would never cross paths again.