On the day I returned to the country, the close friend who had promised to pick me up never showed up.
After asking around, I found out that she had been bullied.
Her half-sister not only stole her fiancé but was also trying to seize the inheritance her mother had left behind.
They even arranged for her to marry a scumbag, not allowing her to step out of the house.
When I heard about this, I went straight to her home to bring her out. Her sister rolled her eyes at me and said,
"What, are you trying to seduce my fiancé?"
I smiled. "Why don’t you call him here and see if he dares to talk to me like that?"
I had been recovering abroad for five years. When the doctor finally told me my health had improved enough for me to come home, I was overjoyed.
Besides my own family, the person I wanted to see most was my best friend, Emily Carter.
During my first three years overseas, Emily came with me so that I wouldn’t be alone in a foreign country.
She learned to cook for me, accompanied me to medical checkups, and protected me whenever I needed it.
But because she stayed abroad with me, she missed the chance to see her mother one last time before her mother’s unexpected passing two years ago. That has always been my deepest guilt.
Later, Emily told me she suspected her mother’s death wasn’t an accident.
Her father had always kept a mistress outside, who had also given birth to a daughter only a few months younger than Emily.
On the day Emily buried her mother, that mistress walked into the house with her daughter, as if they belonged there.
So Emily decided to stay in Silverlake, guarding the home and everything her mother had left behind.
I respected her decision, but I told her clearly: “If there’s ever trouble you can’t handle, you must tell me.”
She just laughed on the phone and said she understood.
I didn’t know if she had really taken my words to heart. But when my plane landed and I walked out of the airport without seeing Emily, I knew she hadn’t.
Half a month ago, when I confirmed my return date, she was the first person I told. She had sounded so happy, promising to come pick me up. But she never came.
Emily was not the kind of person who would break a promise, nor would she suddenly be unavailable without telling me.
So when the chauffeur and the family butler pulled up in front of me, I looked at the butler and instructed:
"Go find out everything about Emily Carter, the eldest daughter of the Carter family in Silverlake, over the past few days."
Emily and I had first met by chance.
Back then, she was dressed in a mascot costume outside a dessert shop, trying to make her boyfriend happy.
Meanwhile, my own boyfriend had hired the mascot to surprise me, knowing I loved pink teddy bears.
But that day I was upset and didn’t show up. Emily was forced to wait with him all day.
By nightfall, he still wouldn’t let her leave, even trying to pay her extra to stay. Emily cried in frustration, and only then did my boyfriend realize the teddy bear mascot was actually a young woman.
Unable to fix the situation, he called me in a panic—and that’s how Emily and I met.
Her boyfriend ignored her for days afterward. I felt guilty and tried to help mediate, but Emily assured me she didn’t blame him.
"I didn’t know he had hired someone as a mascot just for you. The real fault lies with the performer who double-booked jobs."
She was clear-headed, kind, and soft-spoken. More importantly, she looked so sweet and gentle—the little sister type I had always dreamed of.
From then on, we became friends.
From the moment I learned her name, I already knew she was the eldest daughter of the Carter family in Silverlake. But because I wanted our friendship to remain pure, I never brought up her background—and she never asked about mine.
