Chapter 4

Rain began to fall unexpectedly. Heavy droplets hit Rebecca, cold and biting. Her wounds were still unhealed, and the rain soaked through the bandages, sending waves of searing pain through her with every drop. She struggled to move the wheelchair away from the roadside, but it was impossible to flag down a cab on the highway. Her fingers were numb from the cold rain, and the wheels slipped on the wet pavement, almost tipping over several times. At last, as she reached a curve, the wheelchair lost its balance and crashed hard onto the ground. Rebecca's knee slammed against the cold concrete, tearing open her wound. Blood trickled down her calf, mixing with the rain and staining the ground red. She gritted her teeth, enduring the pain as she tried to stand, but her body was too weak. She struggled repeatedly, only to fall each time. The rain poured down harder, blurring her vision until she could no longer tell whether it was rain or tears streaming down her face. Lying there on the cold, wet ground, an overwhelming sorrow welled up inside her. All it took was a passing glimpse of someone who barely resembled Mia, and he had left her without hesitation. Back then, she was truly too foolish to believe that he would fall for her. A bitter smile crept across Rebecca's face, and before she realized it, tears began to flow down her cheeks. She lost track of time as she struggled to pull herself up, gradually inching her way back into her wheelchair. Her clothes were soaked through, and the rain had left her wounds discoloured and raw. The pain was so intense that it nearly numbed her. Yet, she clenched her jaw and slowly started to maneuver her way back home. Five hours later, she finally made it home. The maids were shocked into silence by her battered and bruised appearance. Rebecca ignored their reactions and calmly ordered, "Get me hot water and clean gauze." At night, Stanley returned. His clothes were a bit wrinkled. He looked exhausted, and there was a hint of disappointment in his eyes. Rebecca sat on the couch and looked up at him, her voice calm. "You didn't find her?" "I did. She doesn't look like her." He didn't even notice the wounds on Rebecca's body, nor did he ask how she'd made it back. His mind was entirely consumed by that silhouette that resembled Mia, as if Rebecca's presence were nothing more than air. Over the next two days, Stanley left early and came back late, lost in thought while looking at photos of Mia. Rebecca observed from a distance. There was no turmoil left in her. Her body was healing, and her determination was growing stronger. That day, she collected all her belongings—clothes, jewelry, and perfume bought to please Stanley—and stacked them in the courtyard. Then, she lit a brazier and began tossing the items in, one by one. The flames devoured those remnants of the past, as if burning away the last of her lingering attachments. Just as the fire was dying down, Stanley arrived home. His expression shifted the moment he saw the glow in the courtyard. He rushed over and kicked the brazier with full force. Embers scattered in all directions. A few landed on Rebecca, searing her skin and drawing a sharp hiss of pain from her lips. "Who allowed you to burn Mia's belongings?" Stanley roared, his eyes blazing with fury. Rebecca looked up, wincing from the pain. "You've got it wrong. I wasn't burning Mia's things. They were mine." Stanley froze for a moment, then stormed into the study. Only after confirming that Mia's belongings were untouched did he finally breathe a sigh of relief. He came back and looked at Rebecca, his tone laced with confusion and a hint of suppressed anger. "Why the hell would you burn your own things for no reason?" Rebecca lowered her head, eyes fixed on the still-glowing embers on the ground, and replied softly, "Because I'm leaving."