Chapter 4

After returning home, I maintained my usual demeanor, eating, washing up, and resting with James.

Until I heard his breathing become steady, I gently pulled his hand off my waist.

I got out of bed and went straight to the computer in his study.

But after searching every corner of James' computer, I couldn't find any valuable information.

I did see a folder labeled "Amy" though.

Inside were photos and videos of Amy from childhood to adulthood.

James had carefully labeled the time and place for each photo.

In the three years of our marriage, he was still meticulously recording Amy's every smile.

Suppressing the nausea in my heart, I closed the folder and continued searching desperately.

My mouse accidentally clicked on a foreign social media platform I didn't recognize.

James' account was still logged in.

After scrolling through all his chat logs and records, I finally found a clue in a transfer record from three years ago.

The recipient was a hacker.

James hired him to delete the online backup of the surveillance footage from the night Amy set the fire.

Tears fell drop by drop.

I urgently typed:

"Can you recover the online backup you deleted three years ago?"

The hacker quickly replied:

"Didn't you say to destroy it completely? I didn't keep any traces on my end either."

Seeing this, my heart was already numb with pain.

I brushed off the hacker, cleared the chat history, and shut down the computer.

I picked up my phone and dialed a number:

"Hello, I'd like to book a fake death service for seven days from now."

I didn't sleep all night.

The next morning, James saw my swollen eyes and looked very concerned:

"Lily, did you cry again in your dreams?"

"I must have. Did I used to do this often?"

James wrapped an ice pack in a towel and held it to my eyes:

"Yes, you often had nightmares. We have a family dinner today. When we have time, I'll take you to see the therapist again."

Hearing the words "family dinner", I took down the ice pack and looked up at James.

He explained gently but firmly:

"Amy is getting married next week. As her family, we should help out in some way, don't you think?"

I smiled:

"Of course we should."

James got the answer he wanted and stood up with the ice pack:

"Then I'll go to the office first and pick you up in the evening."

As soon as James left, I went to the cemetery where my daughter was buried.

Carefully wiping the dust off the tombstone, I apologized to my daughter in a low voice:

"Baby, I'm sorry you've been sleeping in this place arranged by the Potters for so long."

"Mommy has figured out a way to take you away."