Chapter 2

The smoke woke me up in the middle of the night, making me cough. When I pushed open my door, I saw a fire blazing in the courtyard.

In the flames were all the stuff York and I had collected over the years.

There was the hairpin he carved for me, the trophy we won together for that essay contest, even the silver bookmark he got me for my twentieth birthday, paid for with his part-time job money.

Each thing shrivelled up and turned black in the fire, until it was nothing but ash.

It felt like my heart was burning. I clenched my fists so hard that my nails dug into my palms, just to stop myself from crying out.

York turned to look at me when he heard the noise, his face blank. "If Vanessa sees these things here at home, she'll be upset. We both have our own lives now. There's no point holding onto the past."

I looked at him, and suddenly remembered how, in my previous life, he sat by my hospital bed and placed that silver bookmark by my pillow, saying, "Zara, when you get better, I'll buy you a new one."

It was not that he forgot how to care. He just cared about someone else now.

"I've still got some stuff in my room. Might as well burn it all," I said.

I turned around and went back, grabbing the box I'd stashed at the very bottom of my bookshelf.

Inside were the diaries we'd swapped for two years, and the first picture he ever drew of us. He gave me big, round eyes, but made himself look like a goofy little monkey.

I threw the box into the fire. The flames leapt up, heat blasting my face, but I just felt cold inside.

Over the next few days, the Graham family's courtyard was constantly being transformed.

The wooden frame York had built when we were kids, just so I could reach the fruit, was dismantled.

The tree we'd planted together was dug up and replaced by Vanessa's favorite tulips.

He even pulled out the plants outside my window himself, planting a succulent garden there just for Vanessa.

One day, as I was passing by the garden, Vanessa suddenly blocked my way and shoved her left hand right in my face.

On her ring finger was a silver ring, with "Vanessa" delicately engraved on it.

"York made it himself," she said.

Showing off the ring, she wiggled her finger, her voice dripping with pride. "He found an old bookmark sketch in his room, said it would make a perfect ring for me, so he stayed up all night making it, and then he proposed."

My eyes burned as I looked at the ring. That design was from a sketch I drew when I was eighteen, with "Zara" originally engraved on it.

I'd wanted it to be a birthday gift for York, but in the end, I turned it into a bookmark and gave it to him.

"It's really pretty," I said sincerely. "It suits you."

But Vanessa's face darkened, her eyes locked on me. "Zara, don't think I don't know that design was meant for you.

"York might have forgotten about you now, but what if he remembers someday? You're just a ticking time bomb."

"And what exactly do you want from me?" I asked.

She didn't say a word. Suddenly, she stepped back, slipped, and tumbled right into the pond beside us.

Before I could even process what was happening, someone shoved me, and I staggered, banging my knee hard against the stone steps. The pain was so sharp that it made my leg go numb.

The very next second, York rushed over. He didn't even bother taking off his coat and dove straight into the pond to pull Vanessa out.

He wrapped her up tight in a towel; his voice was all anxious. "Vanessa, are you cold? Did you hit yourself anywhere?"

Vanessa snuggled into his arms, tears streaming down her cheeks. "York, I'm fine. But the ring you gave me slipped off and fell into the pond when I was pushed. I tried to get it back, but I slipped and fell in."

As she spoke, she held out her hand; her ring finger was bare.

York's eyes went cold in an instant. He turned to me, his gaze like ice picks stabbing into me. "Did you push her?"

"It wasn't me," I said, my voice shaky as I bit down on my lip. Blood was still trickling from my knee. "I swear, I didn't push her, and I never touched her ring."

York just shot me a cold look. "You know exactly what you did."

He didn't bother listening to my explanation. Carrying Vanessa in his arms, he headed inside.

As he passed me, he stopped for a second and said, "Don't even think about leaving until you find that ring."

No one dared to defy him, so the servants scrambled around with nets, fishing for the ring in the pond.

I squatted by the pond, just staring at the icy water.

Suddenly, I remembered how, in my previous life, whenever I got sick, York was always like this.

No matter how much I tried to explain that I didn't spill the soup on purpose, he just quietly helped me change, never saying a word.

York never trusted me. He only ever believed Vanessa.

I slipped off my shoes and waded into the icy pond.

The water came up to my calves, and the chill went straight to my bones.

Hunched over, I kept digging through the muddy bottom, over and over. By the time the moon was high overhead, I finally brushed against the cold metal of the ring.

Clutching the ring, my fingers still numb from the cold, I made my way to York's room and knocked gently on the door.

York opened up, his face all tense, brows drawn tight. "From now on, keep your distance from Vanessa," he said coldly.

Without another word, York took the ring from my hand and just tossed it back into the pond like it was nothing.

"Vanessa doesn't like this one. I'll make her a new one," he finished, slamming the door shut with a bang.

I stood outside his door, looking up at the pitch-black sky, and just laughed to myself.

It made sense. If he could set fire to all our memories, why would he care about a ring that still had a piece of me in it?