After sending his sister away, Phil stood in the wreckage of the garden, staring at the charred remains of roses. His mind drifted back to memories of Tricia.
Years ago, they planted this rose garden together.
They had even buried a bottle of daughter’s red wine beneath the soil, a batch they had brewed themselves.
"Brother Phil, when we have a child in the future, let’s dig it up when they turn eighteen and celebrate their adulthood together."
"What do you think we should name our children if we have them?"
"How about Allan for a boy and Aileen for a girl?"
"Who do you think they’ll take after? I think, no matter what, they’ll be beautiful—just like you."
Even after all these years, her voice was still vivid in his mind.
They could have had so many beautiful futures.
Now, none of them will ever come true.
For years, he had lied to himself, keeping this rose garden as if preserving it would somehow preserve the past. As if it would stop time from pulling them further apart.
Now, it is gone.
Perhaps it was for the best.
They could never go back.
Phil turned and walked away.
Back in his studies, he powered on his computer and systematically erased every file, every photo, every trace of Tricia.
Then, he opened his desk drawer, where he had hidden all the gifts she had given him over the years. One by one, he tossed them into the trash.
He was determined to wipe her from his life completely.
Until he reached the last item.
A diamond ring.
Phil froze.
This was the engagement ring he had designed himself, painstakingly carved by a master jeweler.
For a long moment, he simply stared at it.
Then, with a deep breath, he walked to the artificial lake beside the villa and, without hesitation, threw it in.
The water rippled, swallowing her last piece.
"Tricia, from now on, we are nothing to each other."
From this moment forward, they were strangers.
—
Tricia staggered out of the Knight family’s villa, her steps unsteady.
She didn’t return to the club.
Instead, she went to the cemetery in Glenwood.
She had no family, no one to turn to.
After some thought, the only person she could confide in was Phil’s mother.
Standing before the tombstone, she placed a bouquet of fresh flowers down and ran her fingers lightly over the engraved portrait. The woman in the photo was smiling gently.
Tricia let out a shaky breath and whispered, “Aunt Kara, when I die, we’ll be neighbors.”
She laughed softly, though it was tinged with sorrow.
“I don’t know if you’d be angry or happy to have me here with you.”
“But… I hope you’ll be happier.”
She spoke for a long time, pouring out everything she had kept bottled inside.
By the time she left, the sky had turned an ominous shade of gray.
Twilight settled over the winding mountain road.
There were no taxis.
No people.
She had no choice but to walk.
Then, suddenly—
A heavy truck roared from behind, its headlights blinding.
Before her mind could register the danger, her body reacted on instinct.
She dove to the side, rolling into the drainage ditch just beyond the guardrail. The rush of wind from the passing truck whipped against her skin, and the impact sent her tumbling onto a pile of jagged gravel.
Pain exploded in her lower back.
Tricia gritted her teeth, forcing herself to move.
With trembling fingers, she pulled out her phone, snapped a photo of the truck’s license plate, and sent it to Officer Blake.
The moment she hit send, the sharp screech of tires cutting against asphalt split the air.
Her heart dropped.
The truck was reversing.
A chill ran down her spine.
If it succeeded, she would be crushed beneath its wheels.
Someone wanted her dead.
She didn’t have time to think about who.
Acting fast, she raised her phone to her ear and called out in a clear, strong voice, “Uncle Police, are you picking me up at the foot of the mountain? Okay! Come quickly! I was in a car accident!”
The driver hesitated.
If the police were already nearby, he couldn’t afford to linger.
A second later, the truck jerked forward, its engine roaring as it sped away.
Tricia exhaled in relief.
Her body went limp.
Darkness swallowed her.
When she woke up again, she was in a hospital bed.
The first thing she saw was Officer Blake, his face filled with worry.
“You haven’t been exposed, have you? Why would someone try to kill you?”
Tricia’s breath hitched.
Only one name came to mind.
Kirsten.
