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My stepmother vanished in the mountains. As a forest ranger, my husband took only a few seconds before rushing in the opposite direction to search for her. Realizing he had gone the wrong way, I stumbled forward, desperate to catch up and redirect him. But then, he pushed me aside with force. "Are you the forest ranger, or am I the forest ranger? My judgment is never wrong!" It wasn't until he returned carrying a woman on his back, with his "childhoos sweetheart" throwing herself into his arms, that I realized why he had insisted on going the wrong way. He was saving her mother. It wasn't until the next day that my stepmother was found. Not far from the main path, her leg was caught in a poacher's trap, and she had bled out, dying from the injuries. When I saw my stepmother coldly lying in a hospital bed, my eyes welled with tears. In a fit of madness, I screamed at my husband, asking why he hadn't saved her. But then, his "childhoos sweetheart", unable to bear seeing him suffer, picked up a sharp blade and drove it through my jugular. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back at the moment when my husband had deliberately gone the wrong way to save her.