Chapter 70

That morning, she was taking pills. He asked if she was sick, and she casually said it was just a cold. No wonder she had lost so much weight in just half a year. No wonder she looked so drained, not even wanting to talk to him. He thought she was just being cold and distant. The regret hit William like a tidal wave in the dark, rising fast and choking. His throat ached, and his grip tightened so hard around the pill box that it got crushed in his hand. Outside, night had fully fallen. Darkness crept in through the windows, filling the quiet and empty villa, pressing down on William’s straight back and tense shoulders. Why hadn’t he asked a few more questions that day? Why didn’t he care a little more? Why did he walk away so easily? How did she even manage to survive during that time? And just how unbearable must the pain have been, for someone like Elsie—someone who always tried to live a good life for her parents—to say, “I really want to die”? “Elsie…” The name alone tightened like