Chapter 4

The body beneath his hand went limp.

Seraphina, overwhelmed by terror, fainted again.

"Mr. Jason, should we wake her up again?" A bodyguard whispered, seeking instructions.

"No need. Lock her in the basement. The game... is more fun when played slowly."

Jason's voice was devoid of emotion. He turned and walked directly towards the study.

The moment the wooden door closed, his shoulders sagged slightly. Looking at his back, I instinctively felt a bone-deep weariness and vulnerability.

Jason walked to the bookshelf, pressing certain book spines.

With the sound of mechanical movement, a hidden compartment popped open.

I expected top-tier jewelry, confidential documents, or something similar.

But no, there was only a neatly folded, old dress, a faded hair tie, a few polaroid photos with worn edges, and... my meticulously clean photo frame.

A sense of familiarity and fragmented memories surged.

I knew those were my things.

"Elara..." Jason murmured, his voice terribly hoarse.

"Did you see? I made her afraid, she's finally afraid."

He chuckled, but as he laughed, tears unexpectedly streamed down, turning into suppressed, painful sobs.

"Elara... twenty-eight cuts. Were you scared then?"

Jason questioned, clutching the photo frame.

Standing behind Jason, my soul trembled.

I frantically shook my head, hoping he wouldn't continue to torment himself like this.

But I was just a wisp of a soul, only able to helplessly float around him.

Jason's tone grew increasingly obsessive and deranged.

"I was your husband, and I failed to protect you. I couldn't get there... I'm guilty."

"Elara, I should also suffer twenty-eight cuts!"

As soon as he spoke, Jason abruptly pulled a sharp utility knife from the study drawer.

I gasped in alarm, immediately wanting to grab his hand to stop him, but I could only watch my soul fruitlessly pass through Jason's arm.

Jason didn't hesitate, raising his hand and savagely slashing his left arm.

Blood instantly gushed out!

"Does it hurt? Elara."

He stared at the photo, his eyes unfocused. It was as if he was looking through it at me, who had suffered all those years ago.

I was frantic with tears, silently comforting him.

It doesn't hurt anymore.

Jason, it stopped hurting a long time ago.

"Was it... was it this painful back then?"

The second cut was deeper.

Blood instantly stained most of his white shirt.

I was in unbearable agony, but no matter how I pleaded or cried out.

Jason couldn't hear or perceive me.

Just as I tried to stop Jason's self-mutilation again, my "hand" desperately brushed against the computer keyboard.

Clack!

One of the keyboard caps pressed down ever so slightly, yet distinctly.

I could actually press a key!

The sound was faint. But in the study's deathly silence, a silence broken only by the blade slicing through flesh, it echoed like thunder.

Jason's movements froze instantly.

His hand, poised to make another cut, halted mid-air. His bloodshot eyes stared in disbelief at the computer screen.

There, on the screen, in a blank document I had personally pulled up, a few words slowly appeared.

"It doesn't hurt"

Time itself seemed to freeze.