Chapter 2

"Hey, Sophia?"

Philip's face instantly lit up with a tender smile. Even without looking at the caller ID, I knew it had to be Sophia calling.

He used to be the husband who loved me most, willing to give me the whole world. But now, all his tenderness was reserved for that manipulative woman.

"I'll come see you as soon as I finish up here... Okay, I promise I'll be careful," he said softly.

Whatever Sophia said next made Philip's expression darken, his voice turning cold.

"Don't worry, I'll make Evelyn admit to those posts she made online slandering you. If she won't admit it, I'll—" He paused. "I'll make her understand what consequences mean."

"Alright, alright, don't cry. I'll handle everything. It's not safe out there, so stay home. If you must go out, make sure you tell me, okay?"

As I listened to Philip's soothing words, a cold numbness spread through my chest, chasing away the last vestiges of warmth. He was my husband, yet he never believed what I said, instead trusting a woman who had approached him as a stranger.

I never posted anything online, so why wouldn't Philip believe I was innocent?

"Oh, and Philip, you must come Saturday night. I have a surprise prepared for you," her sickeningly sweet voice came through the phone.

Alarm bells went off in my chest as I desperately tried to grab him. No! Don't go, Philip! Sophia... she's insane!

But Philip could never sense my presence. He smiled into the phone, his eyes holding that deep affection that once belonged to me. "Don't worry. I promise I'll finish up here quickly and come be with you."

After hanging up, he noticed Uncle Joe still frowning.

"What's wrong, Uncle Joe? I'll examine the victim more carefully and see if there are any new clues."

Joe walked over, reaching out to pat his shoulder. "Son, I tried calling Evelyn, but she didn't answer. You should try contacting her too. If you call, she'll pick up."

Philip waved him off impatiently. "I don't have time to find wherever she's throwing her tantrum. I'm busy."

Seeing his determination, Joe sighed helplessly and walked away with a shake of his head.

Back in the morgue, Philip closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and mentally prepared himself before putting on gloves. Then he leaned down to examine my remains.

Suddenly, he became focused, grabbing my wrist firmly.

My heart leaped. Was he finally going to recognize me?

On the inside of my wrist was a faint scar. It was a mark from when I got burned learning to cook for him in our second year of marriage.

I remembered that day—hot oil splashed onto my skin and I cried out in pain. Philip rushed into the kitchen, and when he saw my injured wrist, his eyes filled with heartache and guilt.

He carefully cleaned the wound, gently bandaged it, then said, "Silly girl, you don't need to do these things anymore. I'll take care of you for life."

That scar had faded over time, but to me, it still carried our most beautiful memories. I was certain that if he saw it, he would recognize me.

Just then, his phone rang. It was my friend Sarah calling. "Philip? This is Sarah. Why can't I reach Evelyn? She said she'd come see me, but she never showed up."

Thinking of Sarah made my heart ache. After my parents died, she was one of the few people who still cared about me.

Philip immediately became irritated. "Just ignore her, Sarah. She's been getting more willful and rude lately."

"What happened between you two again?" Sarah tried to understand the situation. "Please, she loves you so much—she specifically learned about nutrition just to take care of your stomach problems. Regardless, Sophia is still an outsider—"

"Don't compare them, Sarah. Evelyn only causes trouble and lies constantly. Now she's playing this disappearing act again, probably hiding somewhere. I won't fall for it." Philip cut her off dismissively.

"I'm busy, Sarah. We'll talk later."

With that, he hung up without waiting for her response.

He muttered angrily to himself, "Evelyn's getting more outrageous. First spreading rumors about Sophia online, now even lying to friends."

Perhaps hearing my name again annoyed him, because he barely glanced at the scar on my wrist before irritably pulling off his gloves.

Just like that, he missed the perfect chance to identify my remains.

Suddenly, loud crying erupted from the main hall.

Philip walked outside and saw a young man with red, swollen eyes from crying.

"Please help me find my wife. She's missing..." the man sobbed.

Philip's expression immediately became serious. "Calm down, sir. Tell me exactly what happened."

This man named Zayne fought back tears as he said, "My wife Lisa went out to buy medicine last night and never came home. She's pregnant—three months. She would never just not come home like this."

"She's everything to me. Please... you have to find her!"

The more he spoke, the more agitated and desperate he became. I felt a sharp pain in my heart.

His wife had been missing for one day, and he was this frantic.

Yet I had been missing for three days, and Philip was convinced I was just "throwing a tantrum."

I closed my eyes. If I could still cry, my tears would have long since dried up.

My husband Philip, the man who once promised to take care of me for life, was gone.