Izabella cleaned the blood thoroughly, leaving no trace. At dawn, she went alone to the cemetery.

She knelt before her mother's grave, wiped the stone clean, and spoke softly.

"I'm leaving tomorrow. I've booked a hospice in Coastal Bay. The doctor said the miscarriage damaged me badly. I probably won't last a month."

Her fingers traced the photo on the stone. Her voice stayed gentle. "Mom, I'll join you soon. When you see me, please don't blame me for failing you."

After a few more quiet words, Izabella gathered her things to leave. Then a group of workers arrived with heavy tools and began smashing the grave without warning.

Izabella rushed forward. "What are you doing? This is illegal! I'm calling the police!"

"Izabella!" Margaret's voice cut in. She approached carrying a small box. "Sorry, I liked the spot for your mom. Great location. Perfect for burying my little dog. I already bought it through lawyers. All legal. Calling the police won't help."

Izabella's eyes widened in fury. "Margaret, aren't you afraid of karma for something so heartless?"

"Karma?" Margaret laughed as if she heard a joke. "Like your mom getting thrown out and dying sick? Or ending up like you? Who's really getting punished here?"

She glanced at the crew. "Hurry up and dig. Stay away from this lunatic!"

"No!" Izabella fought desperately to stop them. Several men held her back. She could only watch as they opened her mother's grave and scattered the ashes across the ground.

Once Margaret buried her dog's remains, she passed Izabella with a light laugh. "You know what? Carson personally approved everything—from buying the plot to paying for it!"

Izabella whipped her head around. She watched Margaret leave with a triumphant smile.

Izabella dropped to the earth and clawed at the scattered ashes, trying to gather them. Just as she collected a small pile, a gust of wind swept through and scattered them completely.

All strength drained from her body. She collapsed onto the ground and threw her head back in wild laughter.

It didn't matter anymore. Nothing mattered.

She was leaving anyway.

Izabella arrived at the Coastal Bay hospice. She had booked the bed under a false identity, so no one could trace her.

She spent the final stretch of her life in unexpected peace.

The bed next to hers belonged to a ten-year-old girl, bright and innocent despite her congenital leukemia. Doctors said without a matching bone marrow transplant soon, she had only months left.

The girl's parents had died years earlier in an accident. Her grandmother raised her but could afford neither the surgery nor the connections to find a donor.

The child shared her favorite snacks with Izabella. Every night before sleep, she read aloud from her storybook, eyes sparkling as she called out "Izzy."

Memories of her own childhood flooded back.

In secret, Izabella underwent marrow testing. By some mercy, she matched.

In her final days, Izabella made a bold choice.

She wrote a statement volunteering her bone marrow. She handed it to the doctor along with all her savings, instructing him to say an anonymous donor funded the girl's surgery after her death. He must never reveal her name.

Izabella passed away one afternoon. The television played the news in the background.

A gossip segment interrupted the broadcast. It showed live coverage of the Gilbert heir marrying the daughter of an obscure small businessman. The wedding was extravagant, attended by the elite.

Izabella watched Carson on screen in a crisp white suit, noble and handsome. Beside him, Margaret wore a custom couture gown, her face radiant with uncontainable joy.

The venue overflowed with fresh roses flown in from overseas, creating a scene of perfect romance.

This had once been the wedding Izabella dreamed of. "I love roses most. If our wedding were filled with them, it would be perfect!"

Back then, deep in love, Carson pinched her nose and promised indulgently. "Anything you want."

The happy memory swirled around her like a vortex. Izabella closed her eyes peacefully.

At last, she could rest forever in the past.

At the same time, in the spotlight of the lavish wedding, the groom Carson appeared distracted.

He had made the ceremony extravagantly grand and invited countless media outlets to broadcast it live, all in hopes of forcing the vanished Izabella to show herself. Yet even now, there was no sign of her.

Did she truly not care that he was marrying someone else?

His phone suddenly vibrated with a notification. The officiant asked the vow. "Mr. Gilbert, do you take this woman as your wife?"

Silence stretched on.

Margaret noticed something wrong. She looked up and saw him staring fixedly at the new message, refusing to lift his gaze.

The screen showed only one short line. "Boss, we found news. She's at the Coastal Bay hospital, but Miss Dobson's condition seems serious."

Margaret whispered urgently. "Carson, the officiant is waiting..."

Carson whirled around abruptly and bolted toward the church doors.

Margaret lunged forward and clutched his arm, her face pale with fear. "Where are you going? You can't leave! All our friends and family are watching! Can't whatever it is wait until after the ceremony?"

Her voice grew more frantic. "Just a little longer. It will be over soon. What could possibly be more important than our wedding? If you abandon me here with all these reporters, the wedding ruined, how will I ever face the world again?"

Carson said nothing. In her terrified eyes, he pried her fingers away one by one and walked out.

Margaret stared at his retreating back and dissolved into desperate sobs.

Carson raced straight to the director's office upon reaching the hospital.

Without preamble, he demanded. "Where is the patient named Izabella Dobson in your facility? How is she now?"

The director jumped at his intensity. His eyes flickered briefly before he cleared his throat. "Sir, you must be mistaken. Our hospital has never admitted a patient by that name."

As if afraid Carson would doubt him, he pulled up the medical records system and scrolled through entries to show him. "See for yourself. These are all patient records from the past year. No Izabella Dobson."

Carson stared at the screen, his eyes bloodshot and fierce, as if trying to burn through it.

But just as the director claimed, even after checking every record from the year, Izabella's name appeared nowhere.

Frowning deeply, Carson dialed his assistant. "How did you get this information? The hospital shows no record of her at all."

As Carson berated the assistant, the director quietly exhaled and wiped cold sweat from his brow.

How could he let Carson know? On the day of Izabella's incident, he had contacted her biological father in advance, fearing the family might hold the hospital responsible if something happened.

Unexpectedly, that woman's mother immediately instructed him to cover up Izabella's records and erase all traces of her stay, offering a substantial payment in return.

Coastal Bay was a small private facility struggling to stay afloat. The large sum tempted the director greatly.

Margaret's mother also threatened to sue for malpractice and delaying treatment, which would bankrupt the place.

Gritting his teeth, the director agreed to hide everything. He warned every doctor and nurse who had contact with Izabella never to breathe a word.

So when Carson grew suspicious and questioned staff throughout the building, he received the same unified answer.

No one named Izabella Dobson had ever been there.

Listening to his assistant's fearful apologies over the phone, Carson suddenly hurled the device across the room.

Again. It was happening again, just like years ago.

The familiar pain and disappointment crashed over him. Carson felt transported back to the day Izabella suddenly ended their relationship.

No matter how he begged or tried every possible way, she never turned back.

Her resolute silhouette as she walked away had haunted his nightmares for years.

Now history repeated itself. She vanished without explanation. No matter what resources he exhausted, he found no trace of her.

"Izabella, you're something else." Carson slammed his fist against the car door and let out a bitter laugh. "Don't let me find you. Because if I do, I swear..."