Chapter 4

The day before I left, I finished all the paperwork for my resignation and walked out of the office with a cardboard box in my arms.

Outside, the rain was coming down in sheets. The cold wind drove the rain into me, chilling me to the bone.

I stood under the awning and checked my ride-hailing app. More than 100 people were trying to hail a ride, too. Then, a sharp cramp twisted through my stomach.

My gastritis had flared up. The pain was so bad I could barely stand. I had no choice but to crouch on the ground, cold sweat pouring down my face.

I pulled out my phone and called Joanie. This was the first time in five years I had ever called her during work hours to ask for help.

The line rang for a long time before she finally answered. "Hey, what's wrong?"

Her end of the line was noisy. I could hear a dog barking and a man sobbing.

"Joanie, my gastritis flared up. It hurts really bad. Can you come pick me up and take me to the hospital? I can't get a ride."

I did my best to keep my voice calm.

There was a pause on the other end before Forrest's voice came through. "Joanie, is Pudding dying? He's throwing up so much blood…"

Joanie's voice immediately turned frantic. "It's okay, Forrie. The vet will be here soon."

Then she turned her attention back to me. "Tom, Forrest's dog suddenly got poisoned. I'm at the vet and can't leave. Take some stomach medicine or call an ambulance yourself."

My fingers tightened around the phone until they turned pale. "Joanie, I can't even stand up."

"Can you not do this now?" she snapped impatiently. "You're trying to compete for my attention when a life is on the line. You think your stomachache is more dire? You're a grown man. Take care of yourself!"

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. "Alright. I understand."

I hung up and didn't call her again. Neither did I call an ambulance.

I flagged down a cab that had just dropped off a passenger. "Sir, City Hospital, please."

After three bags of IV fluids in the emergency room, the pain in my stomach finally eased.

The doctor looked at my pale face and sighed. "Young man, why did you come to the ER alone? Where's your family?"

"They're dead," I answered calmly.

At 8:00 pm, I returned to that empty apartment.

Joanie wasn't home yet. She was probably at the vet with Forrest's poisoned dog.

I took out the cardboard box I had prepared earlier and started clearing out the last of my things. There really wasn't much left to pack. I gathered everything she had given me over the past five years.

The citrus-scented perfume I was allergic to, the jacket she had bought in the wrong size, the cheap silver necklace, and the engagement ring she had casually ordered online, which didn't even come with a certificate of authenticity.

I put everything into a box and left it on the coffee table in the middle of the living room, where it couldn't be missed. Then I turned on my laptop and connected it to the printer.

The machine whirred to life, spitting out page after page of A4 paper.

These were the records I had spent two weeks compiling from Joanie's various accounts.

49 flights to Bernum over the past year, transfers showing the money she had spent on Forrest's bags and watches, his heating repairs, and his rent…

In total, the number added up to 85,000 dollars.

I sorted the printouts and clipped them together with a red binder clip. Then I tucked them underneath the box.

Finally, I took a crumpled receipt from my wallet. It was from the convenience store, where she had eaten a hot dog that night.

I took a red pen, circled the receipt, and wrote three words across it. "This one's yours."

Then I placed the receipt right on top.

Once I was done, I pulled my suitcase to the front door. I turned back for one last look at the place I had called home for five years. There was no sadness or reluctance, just relief.

The door clicked shut behind me.

I took out my phone and opened Joanie's contact. I blocked her and every member of her family. Then I quietly left the "Happy Family" group chat, the one where nobody had ever replied to anything I said.

When I reached the entrance of the residential complex, the private car I had booked was already waiting. "Where to, sir?"

"The airport, please."