Three years after my best friend vanished, eighteen skeletons were unearthed beneath Harmony Creek. One of them was the worst—180 stab wounds, each one cutting to the bone. Clutched tightly in her hand was a single, folded note. “Don’t be scared. I just went home. If you can’t hold on, come back too.” The system’s alert blared in my mind: “Affection and Love Progress values have dropped to ten percent. Host, please expedite your demise and return to your original world.” That night, I put on my wedding dress and sent my suicide note to the family group chat on SnapChat. My adopted sister’s fiancé, who was with her, simply texted back: “Are you out of your mind?” My actress mother called me repeatedly, ordering me to take off the dress and apologize to Isabella. My brother, Arthur, a police officer, was furious. “You know Isabella can’t handle the news of you marrying Lucas since her memory loss, yet you deliberately wear a wedding dress to provoke her, hoping to worsen her condition, don’t you?” No one paid any attention to my suicide note. They didn’t know I was wearing the wedding dress not to marry Lucas. But to lure out the serial killer who murdered my best friend. And to finally break free from this world that had trapped me for twenty-five years. Only my lawyer brother, Daniel, sent multiple voice messages on SnapChat. “Vera, do you know something?” “Is that body Summer’s? Was that note she left for you?” I didn’t reply to anyone. I just clutched Summer’s photo, her image a blur through my tears. With plainclothes police officers following discreetly behind, I headed for the hotel.
I sat in the wedding car, the police officers disguised as bridesmaids and groomsmen looking at me with complex emotions. “Are you really sure about this? To lure out the ‘Bride Butcher,’ you might not make it out alive.” “Even though this case could cost Captain Arthur his job, you don’t have to risk your life…” I spoke softly. “I’m not doing this for Arthur.” They didn’t respond, assuming I was still angry with Arthur. Someone said, “I’ll call Captain Arthur. In such a dangerous situation, he should be here protecting you.” I watched him dial, a faint, bitter smile playing on my lips. The call connected. He said, “Captain Arthur, Vera is going in as bait for the Butcher today. It’s incredibly risky, you—” He didn’t finish his sentence before the line went dead. At that exact moment, my own phone rang. I answered, my face expressionless. Arthur’s furious voice exploded through the phone. “I always thought you were just selfish and childish because we spoiled you.” “I never imagined you’d stoop so low, throwing away all your principles just to force a marriage.” He gritted his teeth, his breathing ragged, each word a venomous accusation. “You not only pushed your sister’s condition to worsen, but now you have the gall to get my colleagues to lie, saying you’re acting as bait. You think you can trick us into pitying you, into softening our hearts and agreeing to your marriage with Lucas, don’t you?” “Vera, you’re exactly like that manipulative foster mother of yours—reckless, obsessed with men, always playing games. How dare you exploit such a critical case for your selfish agenda!” He bit out the words, his voice as cold as a knife. “Get over here immediately and apologize to your sister on your knees!” “Make it clear to everyone that Lucas has nothing to do with you. That *you* are the one being pathetic, trying to steal your sister’s man!” Listening to him, my hand clenched tighter. When he compared me to my foster mother in that tone, my vision swam. Yet, when he’d reviewed my case files years ago, he saw how my foster mother, just to avoid upsetting my foster father, Frank, would coldly watch as Frank entered my room in the middle of the night. He saw how she’d smashed a vase over my head, leaving a permanent scar above my brow, all while I screamed and struggled, threatening to call the police. Back then, his hands trembled, his eyes red as he gently traced my scar. He’d sworn with that same intense voice: “Vera, I won’t let anyone who hurt you get away with it. Not one.” I let out a bitter laugh, then spoke calmly. “My foster mother is Isabella’s biological mother.” “By your logic, *she* should have inherited my foster mother’s bad character.” “After all, she’s certainly been pretending to be crazy and helpless, trying to steal her sister’s marriage. Aren’t you all her accomplices?” A few seconds of silence followed on the other end, then Isabella’s frantic sobs erupted. “Sister, I really didn’t mean to… I’m sick and I don’t remember some things. I didn’t know you and Lucas… ” “Mom, Arthur, Lucas. I never meant for my illness to upset my sister. I’d be better off dead…” Then came my mother’s enraged roar. “Enough, Vera! If you have even an ounce of decency, come over and apologize immediately! Otherwise, we’re cutting you out of our lives starting today!” I heard a scramble on the other end, as if someone had snatched the phone. It was Lucas. His voice was calm but laced with impatience. “Vera, cancel the wedding right now and come apologize to Isabella on your knees.” “Otherwise, I’m breaking off our engagement.” I lowered my eyes, my voice steady. “Fine.” Then I hung up. The police officers exchanged glances. No one mentioned calling my brother to accompany me again. The wedding car pulled up to the hotel entrance. As soon as I pushed open the car door, a foul stench assaulted me. Eggs, fruit peels, and even some liquid splattered onto my wedding dress. I was shoved backward, almost losing my footing. “Bitch! Stealing your own sister’s boyfriend and still having the nerve to force a wedding! How dare you try to play the victim with the Butcher case! We have to teach this vile woman a lesson today!” “The actress mom, who’s usually so gentle, was brought to tears by her! A daughter like this should just be beaten to death!” It clicked then. My conversation with my family had been live-streamed by my actress mother. They grabbed my hair, kicked my body, forcing me to my knees. Others ripped at my wedding dress, holding up phones to capture my humiliated image. “Apologize to your sister and the actress on your knees!” “And this wedding dress! Does a dirty woman like you deserve to wear it? Tear it off her! Let her learn not to steal men!” My fingers trembled from the pain. Yet, I lifted my head and shouted defiantly. “I didn’t do anything wrong!” “Why should I apologize?” The crowd surged, then Arthur and my mother’s bodyguards pushed through, forcing the mob back. Arthur’s voice trembled with rage. “You still claim you did nothing wrong? I told you not to upset Isabella with your engagement to Lucas, so why are you still having this wedding in a gown? Why do you insist on this forced marriage charade?” But when he rushed over and saw me clearly, he froze. My wedding dress was torn to shreds, barely covering my body, which was covered in bruises and cuts. My forehead and clothes were stained with foul, dirty liquid. He instinctively moved to wipe the grime off me. He asked my mother in a low voice, trying to keep it steady: “How could you live-stream those things? And bring these extremist fans here?” “What if Isabella gets dragged into this?” My mother’s eyes showed a flicker of regret. But hearing him, she hardened her voice and replied: “She brought it on herself, didn’t she? Serves her right.” I took two steps back, avoiding his hand, and spoke calmly. “I didn’t come here to force a wedding. Lucas breaking off our engagement, or marrying Isabella, has nothing to do with me.” “I came here to be bait, to lure out the Butcher.” My mother’s face instinctively paled. Before she could speak, Arthur slapped me across the face. His expression was complicated, anger mixed with a flicker of panic. “I warned you not to use a major case involving dozens of girls’ lives as a tactic to make us pity you!” He took a deep breath, his face hardening, his voice turning vicious. “You’re just like that best friend of yours—heartless and immoral!” “She betrayed Daniel, stole his money, and ran off.” “She was afraid of being wanted by the police, so she secretly faked evidence, slipped a note into a victim’s hand, and pretended to be dead.” “I told you repeatedly that the body couldn’t be that lowlife Summer, but that idiot Daniel actually believed it and drank himself into oblivion, even abandoning his cases!” The onlookers started heckling. “Summer? Isn’t she that gold-digger who ran off with the money? Her nude photos were all over the dark web, you didn’t even need a dollar to see them, hahaha!” “A vile woman like her, interfering with a murder investigation. She deserves to die.” I clenched my hands, my heart tearing apart with pain. Three years ago, Summer found proof that Isabella was faking her amnesia and madness. But she vanished before she could give me the evidence. Before her disappearance, her nude photos were being sold online, available for just 99 cents. At the time, Summer cried and begged my younger brother, her fiancé, to represent her in court. But my brilliant lawyer brother, who had never lost a case, sat idly by in the plaintiff’s seat on the day of the trial. He didn’t utter a single word, ensuring we lost the case. The day we left the courthouse, Daniel dropped his pretense and scoffed. “This is what you get for messing with Isabella.” “This time it’s just your photos. Next time, you’ll be sold off on the black market, a plaything for strangers.” That day, Summer cried in my arms for a long, long time. The next day, she disappeared. I spent three years searching for her, but Daniel always met my efforts with scorn. “She’s just faking her disappearance, wanting me to look for her. Let her play her games. We’ll see how long she can hide.” Until… the victims of the ‘Butcher’s Bride’ dismemberment case were discovered in an abandoned underground facility in Harmony Creek. In my mind, the system finally announced Summer’s death. My Summer, dead at the Butcher’s hands. And the system had already decreed my fate. My ten years of striving for family affection and romantic love had all ended in failure. It instructed me to commit suicide immediately and escape this world. But I still chose to use my death to seek justice for those poor victims. … Lucas walked over, his face grim. “Since you insist on going against us, then as you wish, I’m breaking off our engagement.” I nodded, took out my phone, and posted a statement. —I am breaking off my engagement with Lucas. I held up my phone for them to see. “Is this sufficient?” The three of them were stunned by my actions, frozen in place. Lucas stared at me in disbelief. Then he gritted his teeth and continued. “Fine, then the child in your belly? You’ll have to get rid of it. Who knows what schemes you’d cook up with a baby.” I raised a hand to my stomach, a bitter smile on my face. “The child is already gone.” The words had barely left my lips when Lucas lunged forward, grabbing my shoulders. “What are you talking about! How could you bring yourself to abort this child? How dare you terminate *our* baby without consulting me?” His shock wasn’t unwarranted; he knew how much I longed for this child. Despite the unstable pregnancy, I gritted my teeth, enduring the thick, stabilizing injections that left my belly bruised. To help the baby develop, I choked down bowl after bowl of bitter medicine, fighting back nausea. Even as a doctor who never believed in superstitions, I found myself buying a fertility charm, praying devoutly every single day in my bedroom. But I knew, even as I yearned for this child—because in another world, I was an orphan, desperate for a blood relative—that if this child were born, unloved like me, it would only be a torment. Lucas automatically assumed that when I said the child was gone, I meant I’d aborted it. His eyes were filled with anguish. He grabbed my hand, completely forgetting his original purpose for being here. He tugged me, demanding we go to the hospital to confirm. Just then, a cry came from behind us. Isabella’s voice was shaky and shrill: “Lucas, isn’t today our wedding day? Why are you holding her hand? Why is she wearing a wedding dress?” “Sister, did you call me here just so I could see Lucas betray me? I hate you both!” She cried, spun around, and ran into the street. Arthur yelled, and my mother slapped me across the face: “What did you call Isabella here for! Are you only happy if you drive her completely insane?!” “If anything happens to Isabella because of you today, I’m disowning you!” “Lucas, stop her!” Lucas violently flung my hand away. I stumbled backward and fell. My wedding dress tore on the gravel, scraping blood from my knees. I sat on the ground, a bitter smile on my face, watching them rush after Isabella. I had seen those retreating backs too many times. When I first returned to this family, we did share a brief, happy period. Back then, my mother would smile as she cooked for me, Arthur would take me for ice cream after school. Daniel would pull me along to play his favorite computer games. But everything changed the day Lucas, the boy next door, and I started dating. Isabella began to act out. She would cry and scream, claiming I was scaring her. Saying I was going to send her back to my foster parents’ home. She’d point at me, her face streaked with tears, yelling hysterically: “Sister said, why should she have lived like that? Why should she be beaten and scolded while I took her place in a good life? She’s not okay with it; she wants me to suffer too!” At first, my mother, Arthur, and Daniel would try to soothe her. My mother would gently say, “That’s impossible, Vera wouldn’t say such a thing.” Arthur would explain for me, “She’s a good kid; she wouldn’t say something like that.” Daniel would say, “Isabella, you must have misunderstood Vera.” But as time went on, my mother and Daniel eventually sided with Isabella. They would cold-faced scold me whenever Isabella cried and fussed. “Are you done yet?! Do you only stop when you’ve terrified Isabella like this?” “We shouldn’t have taken you back. You’ve ruined this family.” Back then, Arthur would still rush out and defend me. He said I volunteered, helping girls who were victims of domestic violence. “How could a kind child like Vera say such things?” “Mom, you’re being too biased!” He would take me directly from home, and we’d travel to clear my mind. Later, on my birthday, Isabella threw a huge tantrum, forbidding me from celebrating. Arthur picked me up directly. He ordered a birthday cake for me and bought me a white dress with his own salary. He said, “Tomorrow’s your birthday; I’ll take you to Disneyland. Don’t worry about all that nonsense.” He even patted my head, smiling, “Brother will always believe you, always stand by you.” But all that stopped the very next day. That day, I took a day off from work, wanting to surprise Arthur. Instead, I was ambushed in an alley by my foster father, who had just been released from prison. It was a dark, old alley, the walls covered in peeling paint and the smell of damp mold. He dragged me into a corner, cursing, “You little bitch, daring to call the cops on me? Let’s see what I do to you now!” I struggled, but he kicked me down. He snatched the cake from my hands and savagely stomped on it. Cream mixed with mud, like a pool of blood. I was dizzy from the beating, my dress torn. In that moment, I felt like I was back in that hell. When I woke up, I clutched my wounds and ran to find Arthur. He was sitting outside a hospital room. I rushed to him, crying, “Arthur, help me…” But before I could finish, he slapped me across the face. It was the first time he had ever hit me. He dragged me, pulling me into Isabella’s hospital room, and forced me to kneel by her bed. He gritted his teeth and cursed me, “I can’t believe how good you are at faking it! How could you buy off that old animal to hurt Isabella?!” Tears streamed down my face. I cried, shaking my head, “It wasn’t me… it really wasn’t me…” But he didn’t believe me. He just looked at me with disappointment, coldly stating. “I can’t believe those monsters taught you to be like this.” “Now Isabella has been driven mad by you! Vera, you’d better live with that guilt forever and spend the rest of your life making it up to her.” My mother stood by, watching me expressionlessly. Even Lucas looked at me with a cold face, saying, “You disappoint me.” After that, he spent almost every day with Isabella, saying it was to atone for my sins. I always believed then—that my foster father had lied, seeking revenge on me. Until Summer overheard Isabella talking on the phone with a friend. She was laughing, triumphant. “Haha, I’m fine. Just put on a little show, and she’s completely screwed. That old man, give him a little cash, and he’ll cooperate.” “I told you, who does she think she is, trying to steal my family? All I have to do is cry a little, and everyone believes me.” When I found out, I felt utterly numb. … My thoughts snapped back to the present. I braced myself against the wall, staggering to my feet, and turned towards the hotel. But I hadn’t taken two steps when Arthur ran over and grabbed my arm. He roared: “You deliberately called Isabella here, provoking her until she had another episode! She almost got hit by a car, and now she’s fainted from shock!” “You have to come to the hospital with us and kneel at her bedside to admit your mistake!” “When she wakes up, *she* can decide if you’re allowed to leave!” I struggled as Arthur dragged me into the car. The police officer’s voice came through my earpiece: “The Butcher’s trail has gone cold. Stand by, you don’t need to enter the hotel anymore.” I let out a long sigh. I acknowledged, “Okay,” and turned off my earpiece. They brought me into the emergency room at the hospital. I stumbled as I was pushed toward the ER. Just as the door was about to close, I spoke softly: “Arthur, I didn’t tell anyone I was wearing a wedding dress and going to the hotel.” “Arthur, I didn’t call anyone to come, and I certainly didn’t deliberately call Isabella.” “This time, do you believe me?” Arthur frowned, impatiently pushing me. “Enough. Explanations are useless. Just admit your mistake. As long as Isabella forgives you, Mom and I won’t pursue this.” I let out a bitter laugh, the last shred of hope in my heart swallowed by a wave of bitterness. I turned and entered the emergency room. As soon as the door closed, a sharp pain shot through my neck. I lost my balance and collapsed to the floor. I woke up to the smell of damp mold in a dimly lit, stifling warehouse. Isabella lay next to me. Her eyes flew open, and her first words were a furious scream.
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