Michael stood there with his shirt half fastened, the buttons uneven. His hand had been resting around Sofia's waist, but the moment he noticed me, he pulled it away.

Right beside him was Sofia. She had wrapped herself in my silk robe.

That cream-colored robe had always been my favorite. Now it clung to her body. Red marks showed faintly along the collar. Her damp hair fell over her shoulders, and the same heavy perfume from the entryway followed her.

Watching the way they stood close together twisted something sharp inside me.

The air seemed to freeze. Silence stretched tight between us.

My eyes stayed fixed on them.

Michael took a step forward. "Anna?" he said, but there was no happiness in his voice. His eyes studied me carefully. "How did you end up getting out early?"

I said nothing. Instead, my eyes shifted past him and landed on Sofia.

She laughed softly, and the mockery in her tone wasn't even hidden. "Well, look at you. Prison life must've agreed with you, Anna. You actually look better than I thought you would."

I pulled in a slow breath and swallowed the tightness in my throat. Then I stepped inside the house. Each step felt heavier than the last.

My voice came out rough when I finally spoke. "Where's Lily?"

For a brief moment, Michael and Sofia looked at each other. The understanding that passed between them hurt more than anything else.

Their eyes held the same cold malice.

Michael lowered his gaze and sighed, though the sadness looked forced. "Lily..." he said slowly. "Something happened. About two months ago she caught a cold, and it turned into acute pneumonia. We couldn't save her. We planned to tell you the next time we visited you in prison."

Lies.

Every word he spoke was part of a lie he had prepared.

Since the day I was sent to prison, Michael had never visited me once.

Before prison took me away, I brought Lily to the hospital for a complete checkup. The doctor told me she was healthy and rarely even caught a cold. Because she was allergic to penicillin, I kept the right medicine at home and reminded Michael again and again to store it carefully. If Lily ever became sick, he had to be careful and never give her the wrong medication.

Something else didn't make sense. If Lily had really died, why was I never informed? Even if I was still in prison, why didn't anyone allow me to see her one last time?

A quiet laugh slipped from my mouth. "Is that how it happened?" While speaking, I bent down beside the sofa and pretended I had just discovered something underneath.

Then I lifted my hand. The puzzle box rested in my palm. Its broken corner faced them clearly. "Why did Lily's puzzle box end up under the sofa?"

The color drained from both of their faces.

My eyes stayed locked on Michael while I spoke slowly. "She never brought this into the living room. Lily only used it in the bedroom when we worked on word puzzles together. Michael, tell me what really happened. Did you pull her out of the bedroom and hit her in the living room?"

Michael froze. He swallowed and turned his eyes away from mine.

Sofia reacted first. She stepped forward quickly and reached toward the box in my hand. Concern appeared on her face, but the expression felt forced. "Anna, you just came out of prison. Your emotions are all over the place right now. Please don't imagine things like this. Lily's death hurt us too. Let's slow down and talk calmly."

Before her fingers could reach me, I stepped back.

Just the thought of her touching me made my stomach turn. Her hand carried a cold feeling that made me feel sick.

Without warning, memories flooded my mind. That rainy night from three years ago appeared clearly again.

Michael had stumbled through the door that evening. The smell of alcohol surrounded him. His face looked pale and his whole body trembled. "Anna, I drove while drunk and hit someone. They're dead. If this goes to court, I'll be convicted of murder. I'll spend the rest of my life in prison."

At that moment he looked completely helpless. Seeing him like that made my chest ache. I even wished the mistake had been mine instead of his.

I told him to go turn himself in. Instead, he collapsed and grabbed my arm.

"You're the only one who can help me," he begged. "You're a nurse. You can say you were the one driving and that you failed to save the injured person. That would only count as negligence, and the sentence would be much shorter. I'll take care of Lily while you're gone. I'll wait for you to come back home."

I trusted him.

Ten years of love stood behind that trust. For his sake, I had even gone against my parents and followed him overseas so we could marry.

Back then I believed what we had built together could survive anything. I also believed he would keep the promise he made to raise Lily while I served my sentence.

When the trial began, my lawyer tried to stop me. His advice meant nothing to me. Inside that courtroom, I accepted the entire blame.

The judge questioned me during the hearing. "Why didn't you stop and report the accident to the police?" I answered that I panicked.

When the final decision came down, my eyes found Michael in the gallery. His eyes were swollen and red from crying. Through trembling lips, he silently murmured, "I'll wait for you."

In his arms, Lily reached toward me. "Mom!" she cried. That voice stayed with me through three years behind bars, and that moment remained the clearest memory.

Then there was the insurance.

Only a few days before the accident, Michael returned home carrying an insurance policy. He placed the document in front of me and urged me to sign it.

"If anything ever happens to you," he told me, "this will protect you financially."

At first I refused. Money was already tight, and I didn't want to add another payment to our lives. He reached out, held my face gently, and kissed me. "This is just a safety measure, baby," he said softly. "The premiums are nothing for me. Just sign it so I can stop worrying."

So once again, I trusted him.

Now that I think back on it, that document was never meant to protect me. It was a trap.

The beneficiaries listed on the policy were Michael and Lily. Now Lily was gone. That left only one person to receive the money.

The reason he wanted me dead was pretty obvious. It was the insurance payout waiting for him.

"You two are responsible for Lily's death!" I shouted, anger pouring out of me.

The forced smile on Sofia's face stiffened instantly, and a trace of panic flashed in her eyes.

Michael reacted at once. "Anna, what are you saying? Have you lost your mind after spending time in prison?"

"Lost my mind?" I stared straight at him while a cold smile formed on my lips. "Two months ago, Lily had pneumonia. Which hospital treated her? Who was the doctor? Where is the death certificate? Show it to me!"

My questions left him silent, and his face shifted between anger and embarrassment.

"You never brought her to a hospital, did you?" I moved closer step by step. The anger in my voice could no longer be held back. "You were too busy enjoying your own lives. To you, Lily was only a burden. You didn't even allow her to stay in the bedroom. When she became sick, you ignored her. You left her there until she died, and afterward you tried to hide the truth!"

Each word cut through me as I spoke, yet the pain did not break me apart. Instead, my thoughts became clearer than ever.

Their shifting eyes and rigid posture told me everything I needed to know. My suspicion had been correct.

Michael's expression turned completely dark. The last hint of the gentle act he used to show disappeared, leaving only the cruel look beneath it.

"So what if you're right?" His voice dropped as he stepped closer. Threats were clear in his eyes. "Anna, what do you think you can do now? You're a convicted criminal. You just walked out of prison. You're unstable. Who would believe anything you say?"

His hand suddenly clamped around my wrist. The pressure was so strong that it felt as if my bones might break.

The bag on my shoulder slipped down and hit the floor.

I winced in pain while trying to pull myself free.

"If you know what's good for you, leave right now and never return," he said coldly. "I'll even give you some money so you can disappear somewhere far away."

His voice lowered near my ear, carrying a chilling tone. "But if you insist on causing trouble, an ex-prisoner ending her own life out of guilt and following her daughter to the grave isn't something unusual."

I stared at the clear intent to kill in his eyes. Then, without warning, a cold laugh escaped me.

The sound of my laughter rang out so loudly that he froze for a moment and loosened his grip on my wrist.

"You're absolutely right, Michael," I said. "I just walked out of prison. I have nothing now, and people see me as a criminal. That's the situation you created for me."

I glanced at the red marks forming on my wrist and rubbed it slowly. Then my arm lifted without hesitation, and my hand struck Michael across the face.

The sound of the slap echoed sharply.

Michael had never imagined someone like me would dare to hit him.

He stood there in shock. One hand pressed against his cheek while the other reached for the wall to steady himself.

"Have you lost your mind?" Sofia cried out in disbelief. She hurried over and tried to grab me.

My left arm pushed her aside while my right hand swung toward her face.

That single strike did not satisfy the anger inside me. I hit her three more times without pause.

Red handprints appeared immediately on her delicate skin. She stumbled backward, lost her balance, and collapsed onto the floor.

"I'm not insane," I said in a cold voice. "Those slaps were for Lily. And this is only the beginning of what you'll face."

Both of them groaned as they clutched their faces. Pain twisted their expressions, leaving them unable to respond.

I leaned down and picked up my bag from the floor before placing the puzzle box inside it.

The bag held very little. Only a few sets of clothes were packed inside, along with a worn piece of paper that had a phone number written on it.

Eight years earlier, an elderly man had given me that note after I saved him in Kregan Central Park.

Bale Smith was his name, a billionaire who kept a low profile.

While jogging that day, he had suffered a heart attack. My first-aid training allowed me to save his life.

Out of gratitude, he told me, "Anna, if you ever need help someday, you can call this number."

Back then, I believed he was only being polite. I never imagined those words would one day become my last hope.

At that moment, I had no way to deal with those two shameless people.

Still, I would find a method eventually.

My thoughts turned to Bale. Perhaps he would be able to help me.

"I'm divorcing you," I said as I turned toward the door. Each step I took was steady. "The divorce papers will reach you soon."

I paused at the door, then added, my voice carrying through the quiet living room, filled with bitter anger, "I will make sure both of you pay for what you've done. You will end up exactly where you belong!"

Without turning back, I walked straight to the door. I opened it and stepped outside without a moment of hesitation.

Night had already settled over the city.

The cold wind of winter cut sharply against my face. It made me shiver, yet it also cleared my thoughts.

From my pocket, I pulled out my phone along with the old note. Then I dialed the number written on it.

After the line connected, Bale's warm and steady voice answered, "This is Bale Smith speaking. Who am I talking to?"

"Mr. Smith," I replied. The cold air made my voice shake slightly, though it wasn't from fear. What filled me now was a firm and growing resolve.

"Anna? Is that really you?" Bale recognized me immediately and sounded surprised. "You finally called! I keep this phone with me twenty-four hours a day because of you!"

Hearing that, I felt a quiet warmth spread through my chest. "Yes, it's me. You once told me that if I ever needed help..."

"Of course," Bale said at once, and his tone softened with concern. "You can reach out to me anytime. What's going on? Tell me what happened."

"I need your help," I said after drawing a deep breath while the urge for revenge burned inside me. "The two people who caused my daughter's death and even tried to kill me must face the consequences."

Bale did not hesitate for even a second. His voice returned steady and decisive. "Tell me where you are. I'll send someone to bring you here. Once you arrive, we will discuss everything else."

Cold air swept across the corner where I settled beneath a streetlight after ending the call. The wind struck my face again and again, yet the ache pressing against my chest hurt far worse than the chill.

A sudden buzz came from the phone inside my bag. I pulled it out and saw a message from a number I didn't recognize. "Ms. Brown, this is Martin Ford. I'm Mr. Smith's driver. I'll arrive in about ten minutes to pick you up, so please stay where you are."

My fingers tightened around the phone while I stared at the glowing screen. The words blurred as emotion rushed through me, and tears began to slide down my face.

Since the day I was sent to prison, no one had shown me even the smallest bit of care. That short message felt like a faint light pushing through the darkness ahead of me.

Ten minutes later, a sleek black luxury car rolled to a stop beside the curb where I waited.

The driver stepped out and walked toward me. "Excuse me," he said politely, "are you Ms. Brown?"

"Yes," I answered with a small nod.

"My name is Martin," he said while opening the car door for me. "Please come inside."

Warm air surrounded me the moment I entered the car. The comfort inside felt completely different from the freezing wind outside, and the soft leather seat beneath me felt unfamiliar.

Martin reached over and passed me a blanket. "Mr. Smith asked me to make sure you're taken care of during the ride."

I pulled the blanket around my shoulders and lowered my voice. "Thank you."

The car moved quietly through the city streets while lights from Christmas decorations drifted past the window. As I stared outside, Michael's face kept appearing in my thoughts. Sofia followed. Lily's small face came after them.

Every time Lily crossed my mind, a heavy pain pressed harder against my chest. The thought of what she might have gone through made it difficult to breathe.

Around thirty minutes later, the car turned into Maple Villa Complex. Silence surrounded the neighborhood, and every mansion along the road showed the kind of wealth only the richest people in Kregan could afford. The car finally came to a stop in front of a grand mansion.

Martin stepped out first and opened the door for me. "We're here," he said. "Mr. Smith is waiting for you inside."

I stepped out of the car and followed Martin as he led me through the entrance of the mansion.

Near the entrance stood a Christmas tree glowing with strings of lights, quietly announcing that the holiday season was almost here.

A dull ache spread through my chest. Without Lily by my side, the coming Christmas promised nothing but silence and loneliness.

Warm light filled the living room, and the space felt both elegant and welcoming.

Seated on the sofa was an elderly man with silver hair and bright, alert eyes. He held a newspaper in his hands, but the moment he noticed me stepping inside, he folded it and placed it aside. He rose quickly and walked over before pulling me into a gentle embrace. "Anna, I'm really glad you came."

That man was Bale.

Years had passed since I last saw him, yet he looked almost the same. Time had only left a few deeper lines around his eyes.

"Mr. Smith," I said softly, standing there without knowing how to respond.

"Come and sit," Bale said while motioning toward the seat beside him. "I've heard quite a bit about what you've been through. Word reached me that you stepped in to help several people while you were in prison. Seems like you're still the same kind person I remember."

A faint, bitter smile crossed my face when he brought up prison. "Anyone in my place would've done the same."

Bale slowly shook his head. "That's not true," he said firmly. "What you did came from your kindness and your courage." His gaze rested on me with clear admiration. "You once saved my life, Anna. I've carried that with me all these years. Now that you're the one facing trouble, I won't stand by and do nothing."

My attention drifted toward the coffee table, where an old newspaper lay open. The headline immediately caught my eye. It reported on the car accident that I had been blamed for, and the photo beside the article showed my lawyer and me leaving the courthouse after the trial.

The sight of that newspaper stirred something inside me.

I began telling Bale everything that had happened after my release. I explained how Michael forced me to take the blame years ago, and I told him what I had recently learned about Lily.

Tears kept falling while I spoke. Every piece of pain and anger I had held inside for so long finally poured out.

Throughout my story, Bale remained silent and attentive. From time to time, he reached out and gave me a comforting hug, and the sympathy in his expression never faded.

"This is unbelievable. Michael and Sofia have no conscience at all. People like them are nothing but monsters." His hand struck the armrest of the sofa as his voice rose.

He looked straight at me and spoke with firm certainty. "You don't have to face this alone, Anna. I'll stand with you until the truth comes out. Lily deserves justice, and I won't let her death be meaningless. What they did to you won't go unanswered."

Uncertainty pressed heavily on me as I met his gaze. "Mr. Smith, what am I supposed to do now?" I asked quietly. "I walked out of prison with nothing, and everyone sees me as a criminal. Someone like me can't fight people like them."

"Your time in prison doesn't define the person you are," Bale said calmly. "And even if the past left scars, a person can rebuild who they are."

His eyes stayed on mine as he continued, "Starting today, this house will be your home. Stay here with me. I'll arrange proper training so you can grow stronger in every way. While you focus on that, I'll send people to dig into Michael and Sofia's actions. We will gather every piece of proof we can find. And there's someone else you should reach out to. Jack is one of the best lawyers I know. He handled your case before. If you contact him again, I believe he'll help you."

The name caught me off guard. "Jack?" I repeated in surprise.

Back then, Jack had tried to lower my sentence and kept asking me to tell him the truth, yet I refused him. I trusted Michael at the time, and because of that blind faith, I pushed Jack away.

Bale gave a small nod. "Yes, Jack. His ability in court is remarkable." After a brief pause, he spoke again. "Anna, if you're willing, remain here for the time being. Use this place to recover your strength. Take time to adjust to a new life. When the moment arrives, you'll be ready for what lies ahead."

Later that night, I lay on a wide bed inside the mansion's guest room. The mattress felt unbelievably soft beneath me. After years of sleeping on a narrow prison bunk, the contrast felt almost unreal.

Sleep refused to come.

Thoughts of Lily kept returning, and the memory of my little angel would not leave me.

I held the word puzzle box and slowly turned it from one side to the other in my hands. As I moved it, a small piece of cardboard suddenly slipped out from inside.