Chapter 1

The pills slowly took effect, and the voices around me gradually faded away.

When I woke up, I was lying in a hospital bed. The only person beside me was the doctor.

Dr. Charlotte Bellamy, who had seen me far too many times before, looked grim.

"Leon, what was it this time? If we hadn't treated you in time, you might not have survived. Do you understand that?"

My stomach felt like it was on fire, but I barely noticed. I stared blankly at the ceiling.

"Someone sent me an urn and a funeral portrait of myself. They wanted me dead."

Charlotte froze for a moment before sighing.

"It's your life. Just because someone tells you to die, why would you let them decide your fate? Don't ever do something this foolish again."

Even she sounded helpless.

Over the past five years, I had gone through several serious mental health crises.

The first time, I survived after jumping from the fourth floor, not realizing that the height wouldn't take my life. When I thought about my sister, Elise Sterling, who was supposedly waiting for me to welcome her out of prison, I immediately regretted what I'd done. I dragged my battered body to the hospital.

The second time, I cut my wrist. As I watched the blood drip, I realized I was renting the apartment and couldn't bear the thought of dying in someone else's home. So once again, I went to the hospital.

This was the third time.

This time, I couldn't care about Elise anymore—or anyone else for that matter. I stuffed all the sleeping pills I had down my throat.

But I still survived.

Charlotte continued lecturing me. "After you're discharged, you'll have to come here to get your sleeping medication. I can't give you too much at once."

Then she turned to leave.

"Dr. Bellamy," I called hoarsely.

She stopped.

"Did you see a woman who looks a little like me?"

She knew I supposedly had an older sister in prison, so she shook her head sympathetically.

"Leon, you're still confused. Get some rest. There was no woman. A young man brought you here. He said he was your neighbor."

I said nothing more.

After she left, I pulled out my IV and walked out of the room.

The young man Charlotte had mentioned was waiting outside.

The moment our eyes met, he made no effort to hide the contempt in his gaze.

"Leon Sterling, if you wanted to die, why did you have to put everyone through all that trouble? You could've just stabbed yourself."

Ignoring him, I asked, "Since when are you my neighbor?"

A flicker of panic crossed Archie Vance's face.

"If it weren't for Elise, I wouldn't have bothered with you!"

He turned to leave, but after taking a few steps, he looked back. "Next time, do it where someone might find you, like the bathroom."

His words sounded almost like a hint.

My expression didn't change.

After saying that, he hurried away.

Soon, I arrived at my rental home.

The garbage was gone. The red paint on my door had been cleaned off.

After standing there for a long time, I finally opened the door and looked up.

Behind the old curtains, I spotted a small security camera.

It was easy to miss unless you were looking for it. It had clearly been installed recently.

Elise had been here.

Without reacting, I looked away and walked into the bathroom.

Maybe they wanted to give me some privacy, because there were no cameras inside.

Only the broken urn and torn pieces of the black-and-white photograph were still scattered across the floor.

For a moment, I could almost see myself from a few hours earlier.

Hysterical.

Broken.

Desperate.

No wonder. No wonder Archie had said what he did.

There were no cameras in here. If something happened to me, Elise wouldn't know.

The absurdity of it all suddenly overwhelmed me.

My legs gave out, and I collapsed to the floor, covering my face as silent tears streamed down my cheeks.

I thought to myself, "Elise, your punishment is still too light. You should face me yourself instead of making me pay for everything."