I really wanted to see how Jerome would react this time.

When he heard what Caroline said, Jerome's eyes widened in shock.

"Hit and run? How badly is the person hurt? How could you do something so foolish? Don't you know that in serious cases, hit-and-runs can lead to criminal charges? You have to turn yourself in! Hurry!"

He grabbed Caroline, ready to take her to the police.

However, she suddenly dropped to her knees. She clung to his legs, sobbing like it was the end of the world.

"Jerome, I have nothing left. I can't go to jail! That person—they just suddenly ran out into the road. It was dark, and I didn't have time to react. That's why I hit them.

"Please don't take me to the police. Aren't you a lawyer? You can help me, right? If you wanted to, you could. Please, I'm begging you!"

Caroline was crying her lungs out while Jerome stood frozen on the spot.

I watched coldly from the side, my heart already shattered into pieces.

The gall that woman had! Not only did she kill me, but she even had the audacity to ask my fiancé to help cover it up for her.

The two fell into a heavy silence, with only the sound of Caroline's sobs echoing in the room.

A moment later, she whispered, "Just once… For the sake of what we used to have, can't you help me out this one time? There's no surveillance on the road where it happened."

At that, Jerome clearly let out a breath of relief.

He clenched his jaw, visibly struggling for a moment, then finally asked, "How badly was the person hurt?"

Caroline lowered her head, her gaze evasive.

She claimed she didn't know, and that it probably wasn't serious.

Jerome brought her to deal with the damaged car. When he saw the deep dent in the hood, he hesitated.

"You said the person wasn't badly hurt. How did the car get such a severe dent, then?"

Caroline didn't answer, and Jerome didn't press her further.

With this, they were now accomplices—both on the same side.

Oh, Jerome. If only you knew that the person she killed was me.

…

Jerome helped Caroline clean up the evidence on the car.

After taking care of everything, he brought her back home.

"Get some rest. I'll cook up some pasta for you."

Caroline sat briefly on the couch, then glanced toward the bedroom with feigned caution.

She gave a shy, sheepish chuckle.

"Sorry for the sudden visit. By the way, is Monica not around? It looks like you two are really close. She stayed out all night, and you don't even look worried."

Hearing this, Jerome's hand paused mid-cooking.

He frowned and tapped his phone.

When he saw that there were no messages, he set the phone back down on the table.

The pasta was ready, and the two sat face-to-face at the dining table—just like how he and I used to.

Except this time, Caroline stared at the parsley garnish that was sprinkled on top of the pasta and forced a smile.

"Jerome, it looks like your girlfriend loves parsley, huh?"

She pushed the plate forward slightly, feigning disappointment.

"Eating parsley gives me bad breath, so I never eat them. You've forgotten that, haven't you?"

I let out a bitter laugh as I watched this unfold. I was so angry that I wanted to hurl the plate to the ground.

Unfortunately, my hand passed right through it, which left me feeling helpless.

Of course. I was dead, after all.

All I could do was watch them flirt in front of me.

Jerome looked at her, then started picking the parsley out from her plate and placing them on his own.

It was the first time I'd ever seen this side of him. He had always been so cold to me.

Caroline's little ploy had worked like a charm. There was a clear smugness in her eyes as she watched him.

Oddly enough, she didn't seem to feel the slightest bit of guilt after having someone killed.

Then again, as she had said, that road was remote. There were no witnesses or cameras to prove her crime.

"Thank—"

Just as Caroline was about to speak, Jerome's phone rang.

"Hello. Who's on the line?"

"Are you a relative of Monica Newman? Please come to the police station to identify the body."