Chapter 2

The instant Vivian collapsed, the entire Ashford family living room fell deathly silent.

Blake Harrison, whose face had been smug just a second before, now looked completely drained of color. His anguished scream tore through the air.

"Vivian! Vivian, what's wrong! Wake up!"

The five-year-old boy stood frozen in place, his face blank with confusion, then he too burst into tears.

I stood where I was, watching the numbers above Vivian's head extinguish completely. Nothing remained there now but emptiness.

She was dead.

"Quick! Call an ambulance!"

"It's you! Marcus Bennett! You're the one who upset her to death!"

Blake suddenly looked up, glaring at me with hatred.

I pulled out my phone and steadily dialed emergency services.

Then I dialed the police.

"Hello, police? My wife just died suddenly. I suspect it has something to do with the man beside her."

My voice wasn't loud, but it carried clearly to every corner of the living room.

Blake looked at me in disbelief, as if I were insane.

"You... what are you saying! How could I hurt Vivian!"

I lowered my eyes and stopped looking at her.

The ambulance and police cars arrived almost simultaneously.

After examining her on the scene, the paramedics shook their heads regretfully.

"Time of death approximately ten minutes ago. Preliminary judgment is sudden cardiac arrest."

The police began their routine procedures, securing the scene and asking questions.

Vivian's parents arrived after hearing the news. The moment her mother, Eleanor, entered and saw Vivian on the floor, her eyes rolled back and she fainted, barely caught by her father, Richard's, frantic hands.

When Eleanor came to, the first thing she did was rush at me, hand raised to strike.

"You useless piece of trash! Did you poison her food! My daughter was perfectly fine—how could she just die!"

Her hand was stopped by an officer.

I looked at her face, twisted with rage. The countdown above her head showed [3 years, 2 months, 11 days].

Not long. But long enough for her to suffer.

My unusual composure made me the biggest suspect in their eyes.

"Mr. Bennett, we need you to come to the station with us to cooperate with the investigation."

I nodded, picked up my phone, and followed the officers out.

As I passed Blake, he looked at me with eyes full of both venom and triumph.

He thought I was finished.

I looked at the bright [52 years, 6 months, 3 days] above his head and the corner of my mouth curved into an almost imperceptible smile.