Chapter 4

I pushed away Marcus's hand as he tried to reach for me.

"I'm not going back."

"Audrey, it's dangerous out there—"

"More dangerous than being betrayed by my own brother?"

I stood up, shouldering my bag:

"Stop looking for me, Marcus. We're no longer siblings."

He followed me out of the coffee shop:

"Where are you going? You have no money, no job—"

"I'll figure it out."

I returned to the Cross house only to retrieve my mother's belongings.

I thought no one was home and used my key to enter.

"Back already?"

Vivian sat in the living room.

"I'm here to get my things."

"Get what?" She stood up. "There's nothing here that belongs to you."

I ignored her and headed straight upstairs.

I heard Vivian's footsteps behind me, followed by the sound of a glass shattering.

"You bitch!" Her voice was hysterical. "Even now, he still cares about you!"

I stopped on the stairs.

"You know what? Marcus just came back, searching for you like a madman. He was even going to report you missing to the police!"

I turned around, quietly taking out my phone and starting to record.

Vivian stood downstairs, her sweet facade completely gone, revealing naked malice:

"Three years! Three whole years! I thought you'd finally disappeared from his heart, but he still thinks about you!"

"Why?" she screamed. "I've taken care of him for three years, stayed with him through every sleepless night, cared about the company's development more than anyone—why does his heart still belong only to you?"

"Want to know why I framed you?" Vivian laughed like a madwoman. "Of course it was because you prevented him from taking responsibility for the project, but more importantly—"

"Six months ago, Marcus got drunk. He held your mother's photo and cried, saying: 'Audrey is my only sister. The company will always belong to Audrey. That was mom's dying wish.'"

My heart skipped a beat.

"Do you know how much I hated you in that moment?" Vivian's eyes were full of venom. "My father died to save him! I was adopted into this family, worked so hard to be the perfect sister, but in his heart, I could never compare to you!"

"He said I was his sister, promised to give me the best life, but it was all guilt! All because of my father's death!"

She climbed a few steps closer to me:

"So I had to make you disappear completely. Show him that I'm the only sister who truly loves him."

"You can have this brother," I said, stopping the recording. "I don't care anymore."

I sent the recording to Marcus with a message:

"Here's the truth you wanted. Don't contact me again."

Just as I walked out of the Cross house, my phone buzzed frantically.

Marcus calling.

I hung up.

It buzzed again.

Hung up again.

On the third attempt, I I blocked his number.

Immediately, my phone rang with a new call.

Daniel.

"Audrey? Are you okay?"

There was a hint of relief in his voice. "I have good news. My situation is resolved. I'm coming to get you tomorrow."

"Daniel, I don't want to wait anymore."

"Of course. Tomorrow at 3 PM, I'll drive to pick you up."

"Okay." Tears began falling again.

I thought back to those darkest days in prison.

While incarcerated, I constantly doubted myself because of Marcus's distrust. I kept thinking, maybe I did something wrong, which is why even my own brother didn't believe I was innocent. Over time, I developed depression.

Fortunately, I met Daniel.

Back then, the prison had a legal aid program that allowed volunteer lawyers from outside to provide legal consultation to inmates. I applied for this program, hoping to make one last effort for my case.

When the first letter arrived, I thought it was just routine procedure.

But Daniel was different from other legal aid volunteers. He told me he believed me.

After we started corresponding, I often read financial newspapers in the prison library. Marcus, as a prominent businessman, frequently appeared in the business sections.

Today he was attending charity galas with Vivian, tomorrow hosting launch events for her new projects. Every time I saw these, I couldn't control my tears, feeling as hurt as if someone was stabbing my heart with a knife.

In my most desperate moment, Daniel's third letter arrived:

"Audrey, I saw the pain you mentioned in your last letter. Let me tell you my story—perhaps it will make you feel better. I'm worse off than you—I was framed by my most trusted partner."

"He fabricated evidence claiming I had improper financial dealings with people under investigation. Afterward, he immediately took over my position and all my cases."

"More ironically, my wife told me she was pregnant. Guess whose child it is? The very partner who framed me!"

Reading this, I was too shocked to speak.