On the way to the celebration party with my teachers and classmates, I saw Isaac's Instagram post. 

It was a picture of him and Alma raising their glasses in a romantic French restaurant with atmospheric lighting.

Isaac's caption, [Some people are destined to miss each other, some are destined to be together for a lifetime.]

Alma liked and commented on his post. [No matter when, I will always be there.]

The two of them, deeply in love.

They seemed like a perfect match.

I suddenly remembered that the year Isaac and I first got together, Alma wasn't even there.

That year, Isaac picked me up from work every single day without fail.

He told me everything—big company news, small office gossip, even how many times my coworkers snuck off to the restroom. 

He’d joke about how many times he yawned and whether he was thinking of me each time.

Every time, I would tease him for being silly.

He would always correct me seriously.

"Love is sharing and the prerequisite for sharing is liking," Isaac would tell me. "If one day we lose the desire to share, that means we don't love each other anymore!"

"But Anna, I won't allow you not to love me!"

So, Isaac told me that no matter what it was—fallen leaves, a puppy, street scenery, sunshine, rain, or snow—if I saw something I liked, I should share it with him so we could feel it together.

The emotion of the moment.

Back then, I only felt sweetness. Isaac and I always had endless topics to talk about, endless gossip.

Until, Alma appeared between us.

"Anna." The teacher patted my shoulder.

I turned around absentmindedly and saw the teacher pointing to a maple tree in the distance, asking me, "Since you're here, do you want to take pictures with them?"

I looked at my classmates standing together, smiled and nodded, taking pictures of autumn, witnessing autumn. 

I hesitated for a moment, this time I really did not want to post on Instagram. 

But then I saw that Alma had updated her Instagram a minute earlier. [I have a secret in my heart, that secret—]

The accompanying picture was a man's back view wearing matching pajamas.

It was none other than Isaac; I recognized him immediately.

Alma frequently updated her Instagram.

When Isaac cooked porridge for her, watched a boring movie with her, took her grass skiing, or made her brown coffee, she would post it with a sweet caption, [It seems that after half a lifetime, I finally know what I’ve been looking for.]

Alma's thoughts were laid bare.

Everyone understood, except for Isaac, who pretended not to know. 

I exited my Instagram and received a rare message from Isaac asking me, [When are you coming to pick up your things?]

I didn't reply.

Isaac then sent a photo.

In the photo, Alma, wearing my pajamas, sat on my vanity, fiddling with my things. 

My temper flared up from this perceived intrusion and before I could unleash a torrent of abuse, Isaac messaged again, [Anna, don't think you can make me back down with this trick.]

[Since you don't want to be together, I suppose there are some things you don't really care about.]

Isaac sent a video.

My heart tightened.

I instinctively clicked on it and there it was.

Alma had locked my puppy, whom I'd raised for three years, in a cage and poured boiling water over it.

The puppy yelped in agony.

Alma laughed and said, “Serves you right, you stinky dog. That’s your karma!”

The puppy's pitiful howls pierced my heart. 

Sitting in the car, I kept yelling at the driver to drive faster and telling Isaac, [If you dare hurt my dog, I will never let you get away with this!]

Isaac didn't respond.

I was frantic. When I arrived at the apartment complex, I saw a photo Alma posted on her Instagram—a scene of blood everywhere, with the caption, [Beasts should disappear forever.]

My blood seemed to freeze. After repeatedly entering the wrong password, I pounded on the door, shouting.

"Isaac, open the door!" I screamed, pounding on the door like a madman. "If you don't open the door, I'll call the police.”

“Isaac!" 

The door opened.

I saw Isaac, wearing the pajamas from the video, calmly facing me and asking, "Anna, do you know you're wrong?" 

The pungent smell of blood filled my nostrils.

My whole body trembled uncontrollably. 

Seeing Alma, who had reverted to her timid self behind Isaac, I completely lost it. 

I shoved Isaac aside, grabbed Alma by the hair, slammed her head against the wall and yelled, "Who gave you permission to touch my dog?!"

"Even when beating a dog, you have to consider its owner. Who do you think you are?!"

Alma, her eyes red and swollen, cried out, "That dog tried to bite me. Since it tried to bite me, I hit him to defend myself!"

Alma screamed, "Isaac, I'm so scared. Please save me!"

Hearing Alma's voice, I remembered how she would always feign pitifulness in front of Isaac and then send me taunting voice messages.

"Anna, see that? Between you and me, you'll always be the loser."

"Isaac only cares about me, not you."

Back then, I stubbornly insisted on winning against Alma. That time, seeing the smug look in Alma's eyes, I slapped her across the face.

"You slut!" I raised my foot to kick her, but someone forcefully grabbed my shoulder and threw me against the wall. 

A sharp pain shot through my back. 

I saw Isaac tightly hugging Alma, yelling at me, "Anna, what's wrong with you?!"

"Do you know that Alma fell a couple of days ago and got a concussion? If something really happens, can you take responsibility?!" 

Alma cried in his arms, her voice breaking.

“Isaac, what did I do wrong for Anna to hate me this much? The dog is just an animal… am I really worse than an animal?”

Isaac comforted her, "It's okay, don't be afraid."

His tone softened. "I'm here."

Then, he turned to me, his gaze turning cold and fierce, demanding, "Apologize to Alma now!”

"Anna, don't make me say it a second time, apologize now!" 

My blood was boiling, burning my nerves, the pain making it hard to even breathe. 

But when I caught a glimpse of the stiff corpse lying in the kitchen, I completely exploded.

"Isaac, I'll take your life!"