As I stared fixedly at the screen of my phone, a scene from years ago popped into my head. I remembered the way Alicia had cried at Dad's funeral and promised him she would take care of me for the rest of my life in his place.

I could still remember the light in her eyes back then, but the light now shone on someone else.

It was as if my phone had turned into a pile of bricks. I could barely hold onto it.

With shaky fingers, I checked the comments on the post. I wanted to write something, but all I managed to type was a string of gibberish.

Her second last post had been a photo of her and Randall holding glasses of red wine. The caption read, "Cheers to not spending 100 dollars on a cab."

It was posted on the same day that Mom was killed, after the ransom deadline passed.

Out of nowhere, I let out a hollow laugh that seemed to have been squeezed out of my chest by force. My fingers almost bore into the screen as I typed out, "That strapped for cash, huh? I'll give you an extra 200 dollars in the divorce, then. You don't need to thank me."

Immediately, my phone began vibrating. As soon as I took the call, Alicia screamed at me, "Gregory! What the hell is wrong with you? Delete that comment now! How can you throw the word divorce around like it's nothing?"

I looked at Mom's portrait in the funeral parlor and snorted. "What's the matter? Is 200 too little for you? I'll make sure you get a bit more in the divorce settlement then."

I couldn't be bothered to say another word to her, so I turned my phone off.

…

After signing the divorce agreement, I stuffed it into an envelope, along with the deed to the house.

The marital home we shared had once been filled with our memories, but now, it only held the neatly stacked cardboard boxes in the middle of the living room.

I didn't take a single thing with me.

I devoted all my time to organizing the evidence for Mom's case, repeatedly checking every testimony and every photo. I swore to file a lawsuit with the Fangorian court to seek justice on Mom's behalf. I would make sure her killers were punished for their crimes.

As I drove back to my family's old house, the scenery along the way felt impossibly familiar.

My parents had been extremely reluctant to sell this place. Every brick and tile of the old house symbolized their hard work.

To save up money to buy the land, Dad spent three straight years sleeping only four hours a day. Mom insisted on working alongside the construction crew even when she was pregnant just to save on some labor costs.

Dad's painting of us as a family still hung on the living room wall, though the paint had faded a little. I could almost see him standing on the ladder, carefully hanging it up.

I'd just turned into the village when Aunt Sharon called.

"Greg! You need to hurry back right away! Alicia brought a man to the old house, and she says she wants to sell it off!"

When I rushed into the compound, Randall stood there with one arm wrapped around Alicia's waist.

"Once you sell off this shabby dump, Alicia, it'll be just about enough to cover my debts. If there's any money left over, you can use it to start a business."

He nudged her cheek, saying affectionately, "You should stop working as a special forces soldier. It's so dangerous."

Alicia melted into his arms, nuzzling against him like a kitten. "Whatever you say, Randy."

I marched up to her and snatched the sales agreement contract away in one swift motion, my knuckles turning white.

"Alicia! What right do you have to sell my family's old house?"

"Gregory? What are you doing here?" Alicia raised her eyebrows in surprise before scoffing. "How dare you have the audacity to question me? I haven't even confronted you about the divorce yet!"

Randall immediately stepped forward and chimed in with faux concern, "Gregory, didn't your mom get kidnapped? I'm shocked to see that you can still come here and make a scene over the house."

With an exaggerated sigh, he added, "If we'd only just gathered the ransom money sooner, maybe Mrs. Kane could've been saved earlier. But thankfully, the rescue—"

"Shut up!" I grabbed Randall by the collar and pinned him to the ground.

"You think I didn't want to?" I roared, my voice so dry and hoarse that it sounded like it'd been torn straight out of my chest.

Even if I had to go sell off every single thing I own, including my organs, I would've done anything I could to get Mom back. I would willingly sacrifice my life just so she could live for one more day.

But I was abroad in Fangoria, thousands of miles away from home. How could I have possibly raised the ransom money in just three days?

My throat tightened as I recalled the suffering Mom went through before she died.

However, Alicia suddenly rushed up and shoved me to the side. "What the hell are you doing, Gregory! Randall's right. If you'd just—"

She stood defensively in front of Randall, glaring at me in fury.

"You want to sell off my parents' old house to pay off the debts of some random man? My, my. My parents are so lucky to have you as their daughter-in-law!"

"Don't be so stubborn, Gregory. The house is just sitting empty anyway," Alicia snapped with an annoyed frown.

"Sitting empty?"

I pointed toward the house, my voice cracking as I growled, "The sweater Mom made for you is still hanging in the bedroom! You said you'd try it when you came back! Dad built the entire kitchen himself, brick by brick! He said he wanted you to have a hot meal every time you came home!"

The apple tree in the garden rustled in the breeze. Mom had just planted it a month before she died.

"Mom even said she wanted you to be able to have fresh apples from the garden once you came home."

Randall abruptly piped up, "Well, out with the old, in with the new—"

"Go to hell!" I grabbed Randall by the collar again. "Who the hell do you think you are? How dare you try to take the house my parents built themselves?"

Alicia hurried over and grabbed my hand, her tone suddenly softening. "Randall helped me in the past. I can't just stand back and watch while the debt collectors hound him…"

That only gave me the urge to laugh. What about my family? Did we not help her?

"Search your damn conscience, Alicia. Who's the one who carried you out of the fire back then? Who scrimped and saved just to pay for your education?"

Alicia's eyes flickered evasively, but she soon regained her cool and said, "That's all in the past…"

"The past?" Laughing bitterly, I flung her hand off. "So two decades of love and care that my parents showered on you have been reduced to just a fleeting moment from your past, huh?"

I couldn't take it anymore. I raised my hand and slapped her.

Alicia staggered two steps backward, her carefully styled curls falling across her cheeks. A bright red handprint quickly appeared on her fair face.

Clutching her face, she shrieked in shock, "D-Did you just hit me? Divorce! I want a divorce!"

"Good!"

Alicia stiffened. She probably assumed that I would've backed down and compromised in the hopes of making peace with her—as I'd done countless times before.

But not anymore.

Randall immediately stepped in front of Alicia and put on a show of moral righteousness.

"What kind of a man hits a woman, Gregory? If you want to hit someone, just hit me. I don't want you two to fight because of me. I'll just forget about the money. I'll—"

I punched him hard, making him crumple to the ground. His face turned pale as he shrank away from me. "It's fine. You can beat me to death if you want to, Gregory, if it makes you feel better."

Seeing this, Alicia looked as if the situation had dawned on her. Her eyes brightened a little, and she chuckled coyly. "Are you jealous, Greg?"

"There's nothing going on between Randall and me," Alicia said. "He's just a childhood friend. I'm only helping him because—"

"Get lost!" I snapped icily as I threw her hand off me. "I don't care what you two are. It's none of my business what kind of sordid things you've done behind my back. I don't give a damn about the lengths you're willing to go to for that loser."

Alicia's expression froze.

"Fine! So be it, Gregory! You want a divorce, huh? You're getting one! Don't come begging to get back together with me after that!" she screamed in humiliation before grabbing Randall off the ground. "Let's go!"

I stood alone in the garden, taking in the house. Then, I slowly started cleaning up the mess. From now on, I would remain here to keep the memory of this house alive.

…

"Mr. Kane, the Fangorian court says there's still some key information missing from the evidence we've provided. Please come over as soon as possible. It's best if you can clarify things in person."

After the call ended, I clenched my fists, my nails digging deeply into my palms.

This time, I was determined to seek justice on Mom's behalf.

I immediately booked the earliest flight to Fangoria. Just as the car was about to reach the airport terminal, however, a black van rushed out from the side and rammed into the car.

The impact made my head spin. Before I could even recover from the dizziness, a sack had been thrown over my head.

"Don't try anything funny. Your wife has sold you to us!"

The pain was like a dull knife, sawing away at my nerves.

With great effort, I was finally able to open my eyes. My vision was hazy, and my mouth tasted like blood. The sticky sensation at the back of my head told me the blood had already soaked through my collar.

"You're awake, huh?"

A rough hand abruptly grabbed my hair and yanked me up violently. The next second, a fist slammed hard into my abdomen. I let out a muffled groan and curled up on the ground, feeling as if my organs had been ruptured.

"Your wife, Alicia Carter, borrowed 800 thousand dollars from us. She said her husband has money and told us to get it from you."

My breathing stalled. Blood rushed up my throat again.

800 thousand dollars? Was it for Randall?

Gritting my teeth, I spelled out clearly, "I… have no… money…"

"No money, huh?" The leader of the loan sharks sneered. He crouched down and grabbed my hair, forcing me to raise my head and look at him. "That's not what your wife said."

Snorting, he pulled out his phone and played a video. It showed Alicia was standing in a dim office, her arm linked with Randall's.

"That's right. Here's a copy of my husband's ID. He has a property in his name. You can get the money from him."

My fingers curled, and my nails dug deep into my palms, but I felt nothing. Staring at the man in front of me, I croaked, "I'm not selling the house."

"Aren't you a stubborn guy?" The man cackled.

All of a sudden, he brought over something and dangled it in front of me.

"M-Mom…?" My voice caught in my throat. My blood ran cold.

He was holding the urn I'd carefully picked out to hold Mom's remains. The bastard was even waving it around like some toy!

"Give it back!" I roared at the top of my lungs as I glared murderously at him, but he simply kicked me down and stomped on my hand, grinding it beneath his foot.

"If you don't sell the house and give me the money, I'm afraid you won't be able to let your mom be buried in peace."

"I'm going to kill you!"

I couldn't hold back any longer. Roaring my head off, I struggled with all my strength to lunge at them, but several people pinned me down to the ground.

I couldn't hate myself more for being so blind as to marry Alicia and bring her into the family. Everything that happened to my parents was my fault.