Chapter 1

Five years after my fiancé died, I suddenly received a wedding invitation from him.

I escaped the mental hospital, desperate, heading for the wedding venue, only to get into a car accident.

Through a blur, my best friend Chloe's figure appeared.

"What are you doing here?!"

"Liam is alive." I clutched her wrist, "He sent me an invitation. I'm going to his wedding."

"How is that possible? He's been dead for 5 years." Chloe flashed a moment of surprise.

But faced with my stubbornness, she gave in. "Let's go. I'll drive you."

Five years, Liam. This time, I'm bringing you home.

The red light ticked down, second by second.

I tapped my fingers anxiously, shaking off the raindrops clinging to the window.

Chloe's sigh broke the dead silence.

"To think, back then, you and Liam were a renowned forensic expert and a genius who solved countless cases."

"Who would've imagined you'd be stuck in a mental hospital now, and Liam... whether he's alive or dead is anyone's guess."

At the mention of 'dead,' my nails dug into my skin, drawing blood.

Chloe choked, then stiffly changed the subject.

"While you were hospitalized, I got my license as a psychological therapist."

"Can you tell me what really happened back then? Maybe I can help you heal."

"At least get you out of this place."

The next second, the light turned green.

The car lurched forward with the flow of traffic, and my mind drifted back to twenty-eight years ago.

My family and Liam's family were old family friends. Our parents were practically soulmates, and our houses were only about thirty feet apart.

Plus, Liam and I were born on the same day, same month, same year.

Besides 'Mom' and 'Dad,' the first words we learned were each other's names.

Because of this special connection, our parents informally 'betrothed' us, almost like a childhood promise.

From birth, Liam seemed destined for greatness.

With a privileged background, striking looks, and a charming personality, he was loved by all our classmates.

His photographic memory and ability to absorb any knowledge instantly made him the teachers' favorite student, the one they always praised.

In any crowd, Liam was always the center of attention, the one who stood out.

He thrived under the spotlight, as if he were born to be the focus.

Until that day, when Liam's mom frantically picked him up from school.

Soon after, rumors spread like wildfire through the class.

Some said Liam's dad had abandoned his family, fleeing out of guilt.

Others said Liam's family was involved in some seriously shady business, living off dirty money.

Overnight, he went from the golden boy to a public pariah, scorned by everyone.

It was a month later before I saw Liam again, and with his return came the news of his father's death.

He'd lost weight, silently staring at the table covered in red, hateful graffiti aimed at him.

Classmates looked at him with disgust, and even the teachers moved his desk to the darkest, most isolated corner of the classroom.

His former confident chatter was gone, replaced by a solitary boy with hair obscuring his eyes.

Even in gym class, Liam, once everyone's first pick, was now an outcast.

He quietly walked to the steps, silently waiting for the bell to ring.

Three minutes later, I appeared before him, holding a deflated soccer ball.

Before I could speak, Liam spoke first.

"Get close to me, and you'll get dragged into it..."

"I believe Mr. Davies, and I believe you." I cut him off.

"There has to be a misunderstanding."

Under the setting sun, Liam looked up, revealing eyes red and swollen from trying to hold back tears.