Chapter 4

At noon, I received a phone call.

"Hello, Miss Moore. This is Sam Stewart. Have you considered what I told you this morning?"

Last night, I had deliberately submitted to Chris, knocked him out when he wasn't paying attention, and escaped. If I hadn't met Sam, I probably wouldn't have made it home that night.

He lent me his coat and sent me back.

He's a lifestyle blogger looking for filming material. When he learned I was an Alzheimer's patient, he wanted me to be his subject.

To record the real life of an Alzheimer's patient and call on young people to start taking care of their health early.

"I'm willing to be your subject," I said.

I still had some use. That's good.

"But don't release the video for now."

Jack was about to start filming a new movie. I didn't want to affect him.

Sam was quick; in less than an hour, he came to install cameras.

Hidden cameras inside, and he would follow me outside.

Looking at the empty villa, he asked, "Miss Moore, do you live alone in such a big house?"

I nodded.

Jack had moved in with his father to the Harris family three years ago.

"Then where's your partner?"

"Divorced."

Actually, I lied to him.

I had proposed divorce a month after Mrs. Thompson's accident, but Jack didn't agree at that time.

He hated me but couldn't bear to let me go.

Back then, he would often crawl into my bed in the middle of the night, hugging me from behind and repeatedly asking, "Rachel, what should we do?"

I had no answer, I could only silently cry.