Finnegan looked like he didn't want to waste another minute talking to me. He whipped out his phone and called his secretary.

Seeing this, I immediately rushed up to him, but the bodyguards quickly held me back.

"Don't call! Don't call!" I yelled, repeated those two words with every ounce of strength I had left in my body. My throat muscles constricted at the pressure and caused a piercing pain to shoot down my esophagus.

"I'll kneel…"

Under Finnegan's watchful eyes, I shuffled over to the first step and looked up at the flight of stairs carved into the stone, letting my mind wander. I was hesitating.

"Mom, Dad, I'm sorry," I thought. "I know you told me that I always had to repay everyone in full for the kindness they showed me. I have no way to repay Gordon for his kindness, but I cannot allow his hard work to go to ruins because of me."

The bakery that Gordon owned was just a very small family bakery run by himself. In the past, I had lived a luxurious life as Ms. Brooke and never bothered lowering myself to understand the pains of those who barely scraped by in society.

But now, I was just Winter Brooke, and I knew of all the pains and tribulations that they had to go through.

"Are you doing it or not? Stop wasting my time!"

Finnegan yelled at me when he saw that I still stood there like a dummy without moving. He was only in a rush because he was eager to go back to Colette. I was sure of it.

I turned to look at him. I knew that anxious feeling more than anything in the world.

After three years of studying in college, I gave up on my lecturer's offer to recommend me to an established laboratory for my internship because I wanted to get home as quickly as possible to be with Finnegan, who'd lost his eyesight.

At that time, I thought that nothing in the world compared to him holding my hand and smiling at me, saying, "You've studied hard, Winnie."

The sweeter the memories, the more bitter the present. Nobody would ever believe that the high-and-mighty Ms. Winter Brooke would actually fall in love with a neglected, abandoned child who was also the youngest of the lot.

It was equally as unbelievable that I would give up my studies for a blind person like him.

Finnegan believed it. However, he believed that Colette had been the one who accompanied him all along while pretending to be me. After all, only "Winter Brooke" could freely move about between houses and go wherever she wanted without being restricted.

Slowly, I got to my knees, my tears dripping down into the soil. There was only one thought left in my head, and that was, my love meant nothing to anyone, and neither did my dignity anymore.

They were worthless.

After what felt like forever, my knees felt as though they were on fire. The color of the jeans fabric at my knees had turned completely black from the dirt.

My head was in a whirl. I turned around to look at how far I'd gone, and realized that I had only managed to climb about 30 steps up.

I was quite familiar with this path as I'd walked on it countless times before and accurately counted every step I took. However, nobody told me that it would be so tiring for me to climb all the way up on only my knees.

It was mentally exhausting and excruciatingly painful, at least a hundred times more than I ever thought it would be.

Finnegan just stood to the side as he watched me coldly. I didn't know what I was thinking when I suddenly opened my mouth and asked him, "Can I… please… rest…"

"No," he answered mercilessly. "How are you ever going to atone for your sins if you're not sincere about this?"

Atone for my sins? So, when he told me to beg Colette for forgiveness, he'd meant that I should be atoning for my sins as well?

He really treated her like a god. He made her so important, like she was the center of his life.

I smiled bitterly. He was doing the same thing I used to do in the past.

I forced myself to toughen up and continued climbing the stairs on my knees. Maybe Finnegan thought that it was too easy for me—now, he even demanded that I crouched down and touched the ground with my forehead with each step I took, while repeating the words, "I was wrong".

I refused to say it because I didn't know what wrong I had committed.

Finnegan then grabbed me by the chin and forced me to look him in the eyes through my messy and unruly hair.

"You are in no position to negotiate anything with me."

He had hundreds of ways to continue trampling on my dignity until it completely disappeared, after all.

When I finally reached the 60th step, my knees and palms were bloodied, and I could feel a warm, sticky liquid oozing through my jeans. But other than that, I couldn't feel anything else anymore.

I gasped heavily. My lips were pale and my throat tasted like blood.

"I was wrong…"

I straightened up my back and hugged myself tightly. The cold sweat that dripped down my spine made me shiver uncontrollably.

I was wrong. I'd been wrong.

Had I known earlier that I would end up experiencing such pain and torment, I would have just ended my life back then. However, if I really were to go, who would end up having to pay off my family's debt? Mom and Dad would never be able to rest in peace in their graves, either.

Finnegan still followed me up the stairs, keeping a cold gaze on me as we slowly ascended. There wasn't a hint of pity in his eyes at all.

"If you knew this would happen to you earlier, you should never have pushed Colette down the stairs. You'd never have ended up like this."

I was tired of trying to explain myself. I was tired of struggling. Finnegan's voice floated into my head, and suddenly, his voice no longer sounded familiar to me. It was as if he was nothing but a stranger.

He might have been part of my childhood growing up, but now, he was no longer the Finnie whom I knew. He was just Finnegan Churchill, nothing more.

"Keep going," he ordered.

I was just about to lift my legs when the pain got so bad that I couldn't help but fall backward.

While falling down, I quickly grabbed onto the steps beneath me as ferociously as I could. I never even noticed that I'd dislocated or broken at least half of all my fingers.

I couldn't afford to fall down the steps. If I did, I would have to climb all the way back up again.

Finnegan didn't even bat an eye. He just glared at me coldly, giving me a look, as if chiding me for trying to act pitiful with him to gain his sympathy.

Tears streamed down my face. I admitted defeat and started climbing back up again.

"I was wrong… I was wrong…"

The sound of the gong was loud and crisp at the top of the mountain. The chapel yard was quiet, and the multiple statues there finally peeked out at me without revealing themselves completely.

Finally, I took the last step and reached the top. I couldn't even stand on my feet anymore and lay on the ground like a shriveled-up earthworm.

It hurt. The pain was excruciating and went deep into my bones.

However, I only paused long enough to catch my breath. Then, I dragged myself over to a large tree in the chapel yard, crawling on all fours under Finnegan's scrutinizing eyes, and looked up.

There were tons of white ribbons tied onto the tree branches, and there was writing on each of them.

This was known as the Wishing Tree, its branches full of wishes from visitors and believers alike. There were barely any leaves left on the branches, the long ends of the white ribbons flapping gently in the fall breeze.

Nonetheless, the tree still looked tall and majestic against the brown foliage on the mountains in the back.

When the workers saw me and Finnegan there, they headed toward us.

"Miss, are you okay?"

I didn't answer them. Instead, I just continued staring at the tree with a faraway look in my eyes.

Finnegan didn't seem to think that there was anything wrong with my disheveled state. He completely ignored me and told the worker, "Hello, I would like to make a wish on behalf of my fiancée."

The worker gave us a weirded look. Then, he brought Finnegan into the chapel to pray and light up a candle inside.

I stayed under the tree, recalling the past when I'd hung white ribbons on this tree each time I came.

"I wish that Finnie will stay healthy forever!"

"I wish that Finnie will have a smooth and uneventful life!"

"I wish that all of Finnie's wishes will come true!"

"I wish that Finnie…"

I had prayed to the deities and made so many wishes on Finnegan's behalf in the past.

I leaned to the side and finally took a glance at my knees. My jeans had torn at the knees, leaving two gaping, bloodied holes in the fabric. I could actually see some streaks of white through the torn jeans as well.

No wonder my knees had hurt so much. As it turned out, my flesh had already rubbed away, exposing the bones beneath.

I didn't care that half my fingers were all broken, dislocated, or throbbing in pain. I did my best to put my hands together in a praying posture.

Just then, Finnegan returned with a white ribbon in his hands, along with the worker.

"I wish that Finnegan and Colette will be together forever."

This line sounded too familiar to me. It suddenly tugged at my heart in such a painful manner that I couldn't breathe.

After he was done writing his wish down, the worker then helped him tie it onto the tree branches.

He then glanced down at me and thought my position looked ridiculous.

"Winter Brooke, you'd better be praying for only good things to happen to Colette."

I looked at him weakly and realized that there was now a vast ocean between the both of us. Finally, it dawned on me that I'd been wrong all along.

The person that Finnegan loved had always been Colette. That was why he always chided me when I was younger yet took extra care with her. He would rather believe that Colette has been the one looking after him during those three years under the false pretense of my name.

I could never replace Colette in his heart.

I was wrong. I should never have met Finnegan. I shouldn't have fallen in love with him.

There were too many regrets, as many as the countless fleeting moments we used to spend together.

I thought, "Dear God, if you're still willing to listen even if I have no white ribbon to make my wish, but on the account that I'd prayed to you and lit up the candle so sincerely many times in the past, please grant this final wish of mine.

"I wish that I, Winter Brooke, will no longer have anything to do with him, Finnegan Churchill, for the rest of our lives, or even the next life if there is one."

That was my last and final wish.

Then, I slowly closed my eyes, used up the last of my energy on making the wish, and finally fainted from the pain.

While in my unconscious state, I somehow heard the worker tell Finnegan, "Your name's quite uncommon, but I feel like I've seen it many times before."

…

The next time I woke up, I was at the hospital. The pungent smell of disinfectant hung in the air, aggressively invading my senses.

Finnegan wasn't with me anymore. I heard from the nurse that the chapel worker had called for an ambulance and sent me here.

My wounds and injuries had been treated and wrapped up in gauze. They had also fixed plates around my knees so I could stand.

I paid for the hospital bill with the last of my savings. The doctor advised me to stay longer for treatment, but I didn't have any more money left on me. In the end, I could only grit my teeth as I painfully hobbled my way out of the hospital.

I walked out to the streets and caught sight of my reflection in the windows. I looked tired, scrawny, and exhausted, like every last drop of my life force had been squeezed dry. It was obvious that I'd lost all of my spunk from when I used to still be the heiress to the Brooke fortune.

I recalled Colette at the dinner party. She didn't seem to have been affected by my family's bankruptcy at all—in fact, she only continued blooming like a rose who'd finally reached her peak.

I kept pausing as I walked along the streets. When I couldn't put up with the pain, I'd sit by the roadside until it subsided. A few kindhearted passersby asked me if I needed any help walking, but I just shook my head and refused their help.

However, I was a little too slow when crossing the street and took about a couple of seconds longer than the green pedestrian light. I was then almost knocked over by a speeding car.

"Hey, are you blind or something?"

I lost my balance and fell to the ground, collapsing on top of my crutches. It dug into my flesh and put me in agonizing pain.

I turned to look at the car and saw that it was a sports car with a very low body. A young man in dark sunglasses stuck his head out of the driver's window and continued yelling at me.

"You imbecile!"

I wanted to get up, but I quickly realized that there was nothing I could hold on to. There was no way for me to stand up, and sweat started dripping down from my forehead. People also started gathering around me.

"Does that man have no heart? Can't he see that the poor lady's hurt? Would it have killed him to wait for a little while? It's not like he's driving an ambulance!" someone yelled from his car window.

"That's right! Everyone has something bad happen to them at some point. Karma will soon get him if he's not careful!"

The onlookers began to shout aggressively at the driver. I hurriedly waved my hands and said, "No… No…"

However, my voice was too soft, and nobody heard me speaking at all.

Suddenly, the loud slam of a car door shocked everyone into sudden silence. The young man had gotten down from his sports car and was now heading toward me.

He scoffed, took off his sunglasses, and looked at me with a complicated expression on his face.

"Sorry. I was in a bad mood earlier and got a little rude with my words. Are you okay? I'll send you to the hospital."

I quickly shook my head and held my hands before me. "No… need… I'm…"

I was fine.

"Do you stutter a lot?"

Before I could even finish my sentence, though, the young man suddenly interrupted with his question, and I immediately went silent. Maybe it would be better if he just treated me as a mute.

He scooped me up in his arms and brought me to his car. "I'm sorry, everyone. I'm sending her to the hospital now."

The onlookers then started praising him for his actions. I felt completely helpless as he buckled me into the front passenger seat and floored the gas pedal after that. I felt as though I was about to fly out of the car.

While he was focusing on driving, I tugged on his spiked leather jacket. He then threw his phone at me.

"Type into it."

I went speechless for a bit. He probably didn't like how slowly I talked.

The phone wasn't locked and displayed a beautiful sunset as the wallpaper. I used the only two good fingers on my right hand to open up his Notes app and type my words into it.

"I'm fine. Just put me down at the junction ahead," I typed.

He glanced at my message and refused at once. "No way. You're a cripple and a mute. What's going to happen if you get into another accident? That would be my fault then!"

The hood of his sports car was down, and the wind kept whizzing by our faces and blowing our hair all around. I said something that immediately got lost in the wind, and he just pretended to not have heard anything as well.

I felt like crying. Did he not know how much effort it took me to walk from the hospital all the way to the center of the streets?

He was just bringing me back to square one again.

"Get down," he said, turning off the engine. Then, he got out of the car and came over to my side, opening the door for me. He reached in, wanting to help me up, but I quickly grabbed my crutches instead.

"Hah! Don't you know how many women throw themselves at me, dying for a hug or a kiss? I'm just being nice to you because you're hurt and all. Yet, you're treating me like I'm some kind of pervert."

I shook my head and got down from the car with the help of the crutches.

"Where are you going? The outpatient clinic is this way!"

I pretended not to hear him and headed toward the hospital exit.

He then rushed up to me with two long strides and stood in my way, effectively blocking my path.

"I… have… no… money…"

I did my best to squeak out these four words.

The guy just went stunned for a brief moment before suddenly bursting into laughter.

Was he laughing at how poor I was?

"Well, my name's Hal Henderson. Heard of the Hendersons before? They specialize in medical technology. My friends never have to pay a dime when they're out with me."

"But… I'm… not… your… friend…"

"Nobody's related to anyone in this world anyway. Since I nearly ran you over, that's got to be some sort of contact already, right?"

Hal chuckled loudly and aggressively. Then, while I was still trying to process his words, he grabbed my crutches and took them away, saying that I could only now hold on to him as he helped me over to the outpatient clinic.

It was very hard and painful for me to walk. After I was done with the preliminary checkups, Hal then left me on the bench in the corridor while he went in to collect my test report.

Suddenly, I heard a loud, angry voice at the receptionist counter.

"What do you mean she's been discharged from the hospital? Her family members never even signed the discharge papers!"

The voice was all too familiar to me. I turned to have a look, not quite believing myself as I immediately saw that it was Finnegan. He looked furious.