Chapter 1

On the 100th day of having Alzheimer's, I couldn't find my way home.

I dialed Jack Thompson's number.

But what came through first was the sultry moan of his stepsister, "Mmm... Jack, your technique is getting better and better!"

Then came his hoarse, angry voice.

"Rachel Moore, are you fucking retarded?"

"You know Emily can't be without me because of her skin hunger syndrome, yet you dare to interfere."

"If you can't make it back, just go find a sea and die!"

Later, I fulfilled his wish and really went to die.

He then kept asking my tombstone, "Rachel, what should I do if I can't find you?"

"Miss, are you done with your phone call?" the store owner asked, looking at me with tear-filled eyes. He continued, "Miss, where do you live? I'll take you home."

"Don't worry, I won't charge you. I just think it's not safe for a young woman to be out alone so late at night."

I looked at the owner in confusion, unable to say a word.

I couldn't remember where home was.

I only remembered Jack Thompson's phone number, but Jack hung up on me. He wouldn't come to pick me up, and he even told me to go die.

Leaving the store, the late autumn wind made my thin nightgown flutter loudly.

It's so cold!

I hit my head hard, trying to remember where home was.

But I just couldn't recall.

Just as I was getting agitated, a man approached me and asked warmly, "Miss Moore, I know where your home is. I'll take you back."

I took several steps back, eyeing the man warily.

Jack had said not to trust any man other than him.

"Miss Moore, don't be afraid. I'm not a bad person. I'm Jack's friend. My name is Chris Sanders. He sent me to pick you up."

"Look, this is the message Jack sent me."

He even showed me a photo of him with Jack.

I immediately smiled from ear to ear.

I knew it. How could Jack not care about me?

I'm his most beloved wife.

I got into Chris's car.

Half an hour later, he took me to a dark, narrow basement.

There was no Jack here, and Jack and my home didn't look like this.

I turned to leave, but Chris blocked me.

I lowered my voice and said carefully, "Mister, let me go. I can give you a lot of money."

Jack had said that when in danger, pretend to be weak first, and save your life before anything else.

Sure enough, hearing my words, Chris, who had looked vicious before, smiled.

"Miss Moore, I'll let you go, but I don't want money. I just need you to... do me a small favor."

"What favor?"

"I want Miss Moore to put these on and do a livestream for me."

Looking at the revealing lingerie, my forced calm instantly crumbled.

I used all my strength to push Chris to the ground, then quickly ran towards the door.

The moment my hand touched the doorknob, it felt like my scalp was being torn apart, followed by my whole body being slammed hard against the wall.

"Bitch, you dare to run away!"

"I'm telling you, you're going to stream whether you like it or not!"

"But first, let me enjoy myself a bit!"

The sound of clothes tearing and the man's disgusting touch terrified me.

Jack, pick up the phone quickly!

Please pick up!

When Chris's hand reached my pants, the phone was finally answered.

"Jack, save me!" I cried out shakily.

But the voice that came through the phone was Jack's cold and mocking tone.

"What? You were pretending to be retarded earlier, and now you're putting on an act of being kidnapped?"

"Then just go die!"

"It's not like that, I really..."

The busy tone that came through the phone cut off my screams.

"Bitch, you think Jack Thompson will come save you? You're dreaming."

"Today is Miss Harris's birthday. He's busy accompanying Miss Harris. How could he come save you, the daughter of a murderer!"

Right, I remembered now.

Jack Thompson hates me. How could he possibly come to save me?

After all, my dad killed his mom.