Chapter 4 · The Dead Wife Was Watching

Michael and I grew up in the orphanage together, ever since we were just three.

The president there always doted on me, calling me "Vivi" like I was her own child.

But in the end, she was the one who sold me out, sending me straight into the arms of a businessman.

That night, she smiled at that man, all soft and gentle. "You can call her Vivi. She's the prettiest girl in the whole orphanage."

That was the moment I realized that behind that loving smile was a monster who sold kids for profit. My whole world shattered.

Michael fought tooth and nail to get me out of there.

Ever since then, the name "Vivi" had been my personal nightmare. It had ripped me out of sleep night after night.

Michael knew everything. Not a chance he'd use that name, knowing what it meant to me.

He was testing Pearl, and she gave herself away.

Michael was finally coming home.

In the departure lounge, Michael kept unlocking his phone just to look at my picture.

From where I watched, his eyes were clouded with worry.

The woman sitting next to him noticed how he kept checking his phone and smiled warmly, then spoke up, "Looks like you really love that girl."

Michael was caught off guard for a second.

He let the silver ring on his finger catch the light, a rare hint of stubbornness showing in his eyes. "She's my wife."

I was the one he promised to spend forever with.

"And we're about to have a baby," he said. "I'm heading home to be with her."

The woman smiled and congratulated him.

Michael's face lit up with a genuine smile, his ears turning a little red.

He actually looked a little shy.

Watching all of this, I felt like someone stabbed a knife straight through my heart.

Because deep down, I knew he was destined to come home to nothing but emptiness.

Michael, what was I supposed to do?

"How long have you two been married? You still seem so in love," the woman asked.

Michael didn't even pause to think.

"We've known each other for thirty years, and we've been married for ten," he replied.

We met when we were three.

We fell for each other at sixteen.

We got married at twenty-three.

When we first got married, we had nothing—just each other and the love we shared.

From twenty-three to thirty-three, I was with him through it all, from that out-of-the-way little county to the bustling heart of Metrop.

During that time, I gave him every penny I'd saved up from college. When things got really tough, we both juggled a bunch of jobs—accounting, auditing, and even sales.

We were hustling non-stop, barely catching our breath.

Somewhere along the way, we lost a child.

She quietly began to grow inside me, and just two months later, she was gone, leaving me shattered.

Lying in that hospital bed, I cried so hard that I could barely breathe.

But Michael was falling apart even more than me, tears streaming down his face. He kept blaming himself for not protecting me, hating himself for not being worthy of being my husband.

"Honey, I'm so sorry," he choked out.

But no matter how many times he said sorry, it couldn't bring our baby back.

All I could do was tell him I was fine, and that we'd have another baby someday.

But I never imagined I'd have to lose my child again.

The pain was so intense that it felt like my heart was being ripped apart.

Suddenly, I couldn't help but wonder where Pearl had left my body.

That rooftop was way high.

I must've been shattered beyond recognition, probably looked like a total mess.

Would Michael even recognize me?

Would he track down the killer and make them pay for what they did to me?

I drifted over to Michael's side and slipped my hand into his palm, longing for even a hint of his warmth.

Michael hadn't slept at all last night. Now, he looked tired.

Leaning back in his chair, he stared at our photo, his gaze blank and lost.

I rested my head on his shoulder, speaking so softly, not wanting to disturb him at all.

I said, "Michael, I kind of miss you."

He was right there, but it was just wishful thinking to hold him in my arms.

I hoped that Michael could find me soon.

Five hours later, the plane touched down.

Meanwhile, his phone rang again. It was the police.

"Hello, are you Vivian Grant's family? Please come to the hospital as soon as possible. This morning, she fell from the cliff. When she was found, she was already gone."

Chapter 4

Michael and I grew up in the orphanage together, ever since we were just three.

The president there always doted on me, calling me "Vivi" like I was her own child.

But in the end, she was the one who sold me out, sending me straight into the arms of a businessman.

That night, she smiled at that man, all soft and gentle. "You can call her Vivi. She's the prettiest girl in the whole orphanage."

That was the moment I realized that behind that loving smile was a monster who sold kids for profit. My whole world shattered.

Michael fought tooth and nail to get me out of there.

Ever since then, the name "Vivi" had been my personal nightmare. It had ripped me out of sleep night after night.

Michael knew everything. Not a chance he'd use that name, knowing what it meant to me.

He was testing Pearl, and she gave herself away.

Michael was finally coming home.

In the departure lounge, Michael kept unlocking his phone just to look at my picture.

From where I watched, his eyes were clouded with worry.

The woman sitting next to him noticed how he kept checking his phone and smiled warmly, then spoke up, "Looks like you really love that girl."

Michael was caught off guard for a second.

He let the silver ring on his finger catch the light, a rare hint of stubbornness showing in his eyes. "She's my wife."

I was the one he promised to spend forever with.

"And we're about to have a baby," he said. "I'm heading home to be with her."

The woman smiled and congratulated him.

Michael's face lit up with a genuine smile, his ears turning a little red.

He actually looked a little shy.

Watching all of this, I felt like someone stabbed a knife straight through my heart.

Because deep down, I knew he was destined to come home to nothing but emptiness.

Michael, what was I supposed to do?

"How long have you two been married? You still seem so in love," the woman asked.

Michael didn't even pause to think.

"We've known each other for thirty years, and we've been married for ten," he replied.

We met when we were three.

We fell for each other at sixteen.

We got married at twenty-three.

When we first got married, we had nothing—just each other and the love we shared.

From twenty-three to thirty-three, I was with him through it all, from that out-of-the-way little county to the bustling heart of Metrop.

During that time, I gave him every penny I'd saved up from college. When things got really tough, we both juggled a bunch of jobs—accounting, auditing, and even sales.

We were hustling non-stop, barely catching our breath.

Somewhere along the way, we lost a child.

She quietly began to grow inside me, and just two months later, she was gone, leaving me shattered.

Lying in that hospital bed, I cried so hard that I could barely breathe.

But Michael was falling apart even more than me, tears streaming down his face. He kept blaming himself for not protecting me, hating himself for not being worthy of being my husband.

"Honey, I'm so sorry," he choked out.

But no matter how many times he said sorry, it couldn't bring our baby back.

All I could do was tell him I was fine, and that we'd have another baby someday.

But I never imagined I'd have to lose my child again.

The pain was so intense that it felt like my heart was being ripped apart.

Suddenly, I couldn't help but wonder where Pearl had left my body.

That rooftop was way high.

I must've been shattered beyond recognition, probably looked like a total mess.

Would Michael even recognize me?

Would he track down the killer and make them pay for what they did to me?

I drifted over to Michael's side and slipped my hand into his palm, longing for even a hint of his warmth.

Michael hadn't slept at all last night. Now, he looked tired.

Leaning back in his chair, he stared at our photo, his gaze blank and lost.

I rested my head on his shoulder, speaking so softly, not wanting to disturb him at all.

I said, "Michael, I kind of miss you."

He was right there, but it was just wishful thinking to hold him in my arms.

I hoped that Michael could find me soon.

Five hours later, the plane touched down.

Meanwhile, his phone rang again. It was the police.

"Hello, are you Vivian Grant's family? Please come to the hospital as soon as possible. This morning, she fell from the cliff. When she was found, she was already gone."