With a complicated mix of emotions, Wendel returned home.

As soon as he stepped inside, he saw Iris squatting by the stove in the kitchen, tending to the fire.

Her small figure looked especially frail.

The summer heat made cooking unbearable, and sweat had already soaked through the back of her thin shirt.

He had seen this scene countless times over the past twenty years, but for some reason, today, a faint sense of guilt welled up inside him.

During dinner, Iris had little appetite. After eating just a few bites, she retreated to her room.

After holding back for days, Wendel wanted to talk to her, but he couldn’t find the right opportunity.

Meanwhile, Esther clung to him, insisting he accompany her for a walk by the small river at the west end of the village.

Feeling restless himself, he agreed.

The summer night breeze by the river was refreshingly cool. As they walked, their hands gradually found each other.

With no one else around and the dim moonlight casting a soft glow, Esther grew bolder. She leaned her entire body against Wendel.

The scent of her hair, the warmth of her skin—his face instantly turned red.

Instinctively, he tried to pull away, but she tightened her grip.

Her voice was gentle, almost pleading. "Wendel, do you really want to marry Iris? You know deep down..."

"Esther, stop talking." He cut her off, his tone firm.

"I’ve always known how you feel about me. If you weren’t considered my adopted sister, I would’ve been willing to marry you."

Esther’s eyes turned misty with grievance. "But Iris is also your adopted sister. Why did you choose her?"

Wendel let out a deep sigh. "I’m afraid of what people would say about you. You still have to continue your studies—if rumors spread that you have feelings for your own brother, it would ruin your reputation.

"But Iris, she has no future beyond this village. It doesn’t matter to her." As he spoke, their bodies pressed even closer.

Lost in that moment, neither of them noticed the figure standing just a few steps behind them.

It wasn’t until Wendel finally let go of Esther that he saw her—Iris.

She stood there, silent and motionless, like a ghost.

Wendel's heart nearly stopped. Panicked, he instantly moved away from Esther, putting as much distance between them as possible.

"Iris! It’s not what you think!" he blurted out, his voice flustered. "Esther said she was cold, so I was just—just trying to keep her warm! Don’t misunderstand!"

Only then did Esther realize Iris had been watching.

She froze for a moment, but quickly recovered, putting on an innocent and pitiful expression.

"Iris, please don’t take it the wrong way," she said weakly. "I’ve been sick lately... Sometimes my body just feels cold."

Iris looked at the two of them as if they were complete idiots.

It was August—the hottest time of the year. If they were going to lie, at least put some effort into it.

As for what they had just said, she had heard every single word.

So, Wendel understood. He understood how much a woman’s dignity meant—he just didn’t care about hers.

Thankfully, none of this mattered to her anymore.

But she had no interest in arguing, so she simply curled her lips into a faint smile and replied, "Esther, if you’re sick, you should see a doctor. Wendel isn’t a physician."

Esther choked, unable to say another word.

Iris continued, "Anyway, I came to find you because Mom sent me. She said it’s getting late and told you two to go home and sleep."

With that, she turned and walked away.

Esther was so furious that she stomped her foot, pointing after Iris’ retreating figure.

"Brother, look at her attitude! She’s always either giving me that sarcastic tone or ignoring me completely. How can anyone stand it?"

Wendel quickly comforted her. "Don’t worry. She’s just throwing a little tantrum. What else can she do? Run away?"

The two of them obediently returned home. By the time they arrived, Iris was already asleep, leaving Wendel with no chance to talk to her.

The next morning, Iris was startled awake by a sharp scream.

Still groggy, she walked into the living room, only to find Esther clutching the floral dress she had bought the day before, sobbing uncontrollably.

“My dress! There’s a huge hole in it! Someone clearly cut it with scissors! Who did this? Why would they do this to me?”

Wendel was also jolted awake by the commotion. He rushed over to inspect the dress and saw that it indeed had a long, jagged tear—an unmistakable sign that someone had deliberately cut it.

Their adoptive parents were awakened as well. Having lived frugally all their lives, they were immediately heartbroken at the sight of the ruined dress.

Immediately, Stella erupted in anger. “Which heartless wretch dared to cut up Esther’s dress? I swear, I’ll skin them alive!”

As soon as she finished speaking, everyone’s eyes turned to Iris.

She had expected this. She knew she would be the first suspect. But she didn’t panic. Having lived through the tragic fate of her past life, she was no longer afraid of their baseless accusations.

Lifting her chin, she met their gazes without fear. “Do you have any proof?”

“You damn girl! How dare you talk back to me?” Stella snapped.

Ronald, a man with a hair-trigger temper, immediately grabbed her ear and snarled, “If it wasn’t you, then was it me, this old man?”

Iris’ expression remained defiant. “You have no proof. You’re accusing me without reason!”

At that moment, Esther dramatically threw the dress onto the floor, wailing, “I know... I shouldn’t have worn such a nice dress. But Iris, if you wanted it, you could have just asked! Why did you have to ruin it out of spite?”

That single accusation nailed Iris to the pillar of shame.

Her hands clenched into fists, her voice hoarse as she repeated over and over, “It wasn’t me!”