After speaking with Emma, the old man noticed the dark circles under his son's eyes. He knew Liam hadn't been resting well these past few days. With a weary wave of his hand, he dismissed him.
Once the study fell silent, Henry Williams slid open a bottom drawer of his desk. His fingers brushed against a wooden box hidden inside. He lifted the lid, revealing a single empty cartridge case resting on faded velvet.
The old man stared at the brass casing. Memories flooded back unbidden—a dusty, blood-stained past he had locked away for years. He let out a long, heavy sigh. Then, with trembling hands, he closed the box, shut the drawer, and sealed that forgotten chapter once more.
Emma didn't wake until dusk. A ringing phone pulled her from a restless sleep. She glanced at the caller ID and felt her stomach tighten. Her parents. How could she speak to them now? How could she pretend everything was normal?
The phone kept ringing. Finally, she forced herself to answer.
"You child, why did it take you so long to pick up? I thought something had happened to you!"
Hearing her mother's voice—scolding but full of concern—Emma felt a wave of warmth wash over her. Tears pricked at her eyes. She bit her lip hard, holding them back.
"Mom, what's wrong?"
She tried to keep her voice steady. Through the phone, her mother didn't notice anything unusual.
"Your husband called a couple of days ago. He said you two were coming home tomorrow. I wanted to ask what you'd like to eat."
Emma froze. A bitter smile tugged at her lips. That call must have been made the night of the accident. She remembered lying to Liam about her plans. He had looked up sharply, his eyes cold and piercing. At the time, she thought she had imagined it. How could Liam look at her like that?
Now she understood. He had already known about Elijah's dealings that night. Her lie only confirmed his suspicions. No wonder his attitude toward her had been so strange lately.
So many coincidences. So many signs she had missed. Emma's eyes grew clear and bright. She felt so foolish.
"What's wrong? Does it take that long to think about what you want to eat?"
Her mother's voice pulled her back. Emma steadied herself.
"Mom, Liam has a business trip tomorrow. I'm going with him. We won't be back for a while, so I can't come home for now."
She silently apologized. But she couldn't face them. Not yet.
"Oh, I see. Work comes first. And it's your own company now—you need to manage it well. We'll have dinner together when you get back."
Emma heard the disappointment in her mother's voice. Her heart ached. She wanted to tell her that Liam would never have dinner with them again.
After hanging up, she sat alone on the bed for a long time. Her thoughts swirled, slowly untangling themselves. Finally, she got up, opened the door, and walked into the living room.
Mia and Olivia were studying the documents the lawyer had left. When they saw Emma, Mia quickly asked the kitchen to bring out the food they had prepared. Olivia rushed over to help her sit on the sofa.
"I'm not sick. You don't have to help me."
Emma smiled at their concern. Seeing her expression, both Mia and Olivia relaxed.
"Are these the files Lawyer Wang collected?" Emma picked up the papers on the coffee table.
"Yes. All the evidence is in your favor. Lawyer Wang printed an extra copy. Olivia and I were looking through it. I think you have a good chance of clearing your name. Every record shows that Elijah's transactions only happened to coincide with your schedule. You were never directly involved. It's not a crime."
Mia's voice faltered as she spoke. Emma looked at her friend and knew she was struggling. Maybe it was even harder for Mia to accept Elijah's true identity than it was for her.
"Mia—"
"Emma, you don't have to say anything. No one can change the fact that Elijah is a criminal. All I can do is accept it as fast as I can."
Mia had always been clear-headed, just like Emma. That clarity was cruel, but necessary. There was no other way.
Emma nodded. She understood. The pain would fade, but the scar would remain. Only time could heal it.
She said nothing more and began to study the documents carefully.
A few days later, all the evidence proved Emma's innocence. Liam felt relieved, but he also knew that Emma would never look at him the same way again.
A chasm had opened between them—a misunderstanding that had grown into a cliff. To cross it, they would have to face danger. Even if it meant falling to pieces, Liam had to try. Otherwise, he would lose her forever.
But Emma only handed him a divorce agreement. Her signature was already on it.
"I told you I would never divorce you. Emma, whether you live or die, you are my wife."
Outside the courthouse, Liam tore the agreement into shreds. The pieces fluttered to the ground like snowflakes. Emma watched him, her face cold, her eyes filled with undisguised mockery.
"It's just a piece of paper. I can print a hundred more. This marriage is over."
She turned and walked away without looking back. She saw Amelia standing nearby, her face a mask of shock. But Emma knew it was just for show. Amelia must have known the truth before she came. The smugness in her eyes didn't escape Emma's notice.
"Don't celebrate too soon," Emma said coldly. "Even if I divorce Liam, it will never be your turn to take my place."