Chapter 3

Gemma's parents were also buried by Murphy. On the day of their burial, Gemma locked herself in the wardrobe again.

Murphy found her but did not force her to come out. Instead, he opened the wardrobe door and climbed inside to stay with her.

"Uncle Murphy, is it as dark and cold inside a coffin as it is here?" she asked with reddened eyes. "I dreamed that Mom told me to join her in the coffin. She said it's cold and lonely being in there all by herself…"

"That was just a dream," Murphy reassured her. "Don't be afraid. You're not going anywhere. I won't let anyone take you away from me."

She wrapped her arms around Murphy's neck and softly whispered in his ear, "As long as you're with me, I wouldn't even be scared of being in a coffin."

…

It seemed Murphy still remembered that moment.

He had misunderstood. He thought Gemma was using the cryo-casket project as a subtle way to confess her feelings to him again.

"Uncle Murphy, if you don't like it, I'll change my design," Gemma said quietly. "It's just a summer project. Don't be upset."

Murphy's expression remained cold and silent, but Evangeline chimed in with a smile to ease the tension, "Yes, change it. Coffins are so morbid. You're a young girl, so don't involve yourself in such grim matters. Be more cheerful!"

Gemma gathered the scattered documents from the floor. Then, in front of Murphy, she threw them all into the trash. Only then did his expression soften slightly.

…

Late that night, once everyone was asleep, Gemma crept out of bed and retrieved the documents from the trash.

As she returned to her room, Evangeline stepped out of Murphy's bedroom wearing a silk slip dress. Her shoulders and back bore unmistakable marks of intimacy. It was not hard to imagine what she and Murphy had been doing in that room.

Gemma forced herself to look away and silently reminded herself over and over, 'Don't look. Don't think about it. She's Uncle Murphy's fiancée. Whatever they do, it's only natural.'

Murphy loved her, and she could make him happy. That was all that mattered.

"Gemma, why won't you look at me?" Evangeline's eyes glinted with provocation, a stark contrast to her earlier demeanor. "Are you still unable to accept that Murphy loves me and not you?"

Gemma lowered her gaze. "No, I've accepted it."

"Stop pretending. Do you think I can't see through you?" Evangeline sneered. "The way you look at Murphy is not normal at all. Even though you call him Uncle Murphy, he raised you. Technically, he's more like your foster father. And yet you've fallen in love with your foster father… Gemma, are you mentally unwell?"

Gemma bit her lip hard, refusing to respond.

Was she… truly broken?

It was no wonder Murphy had grown so disgusted with her after learning about her feelings. To the world, this love was nothing but shameful.

"I heard the reason you're an orphan is that your mother lost her mind, grabbed a knife in the middle of the night, and stabbed your father over a hundred times—killing him on the spot."

Evangeline stepped closer, her words deliberately cruel. "Well, it's no wonder you're mentally unstable. It's hereditary. Your mother was a deranged lunatic, and you're just like her."

Gemma could endure Evangeline's insults toward her, but she could not tolerate anyone speaking ill of her deceased parents.

"Shut up!" she shouted, lunging forward and grabbing Evangeline by the throat. "You don't know the whole story! You have no right—"

Before she could finish, a cold, sharp voice cut through the air.

"Gemma, what are you doing?!"

Murphy had woken up at some point. He stood in the doorway, his face filled with fury as he glared at Gemma.