Chapter 9
My eyesight’s always been pretty sharp–I spotted it right away. The ring was the one I picked before.
The couple exchanged rings, and as the crowd cheered, they kissed.
At that moment, William turned his head and looked at me.
While I raised my glass toward him, Lilah stood on her toes and kissed him.
And then, the projector lit up behind them.
A video started playing.
It was Will, 18 years old, driving his car.
In the audience, his parents shot up from their seats.
Will hummed along to some song and sent me a voice message.
“Emmy, I bought it! I’ll bring it over soon!”
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But then, out of nowhere, a car sped in from the side.
With a bang, the screen turned to static.
Then it switched to grainy surveillance footage from a hidden corner.
A man climbed out of the wrecked car–it
was William.
He staggered as he stood up, looking
around.
Through the shattered glass, Will’s hand reached out. He looked like he was begging for help.
But William didn’t even look at him. He just turned and disappeared into the night.
That was the end of the video.
The entire room went silent, and Will’s
parents looked like they could barely stand.
Lilah covered her mouth, her eyes wide in disbelief.
When she turned to look at me, I smiled
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back at her.
Under the weight of everyone’s stares, William walked toward me.
“Why…” he started, his voice shaking. “I did it all because of you…”
I didn’t say a word.
That footage had been buried well, but William still found it back then. He’d replaced it, covering up the truth for years.
Now, cope burst in from every side, tackling William to the ground.
“I didn’t kill him! It’s fake–it’s all fake!” he screamed.
His wedding turned into chaos.
And now, everyone knew: Lilah had married her brother’s killer.
Lilah screamed as she hugged herself, shrinking into a corner.
When someone tried to comfort her, she slapped herself across the face. Over and
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over.
Her makeup was ruined, her hair was a mess, and her cheeks were swollen and
red.
She would never forgive herself for this.
Me? I walked out of the mess.
William called after me, but I didn’t look back. I just kept walking.
Not long after, the verdict came in- William was sentenced to 10 years.
In those years, I drifted around.
I lost Will when I was 18. I lost my parents.
at 20.
After that, I had nothing left to lose. I didn’t care about anything anymore.
I lived one day at a time. If I died, I figured I’d just get to see Will sooner.
I just hoped he wouldn’t hide from me.
While I was here, I figured I’d open a little.
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toy shop.
I sold stuffed animals, and somehow, 10 years went by.
One day, during the shop’s anniversary, I was directing one of my staff to set up decorations when someone pushed the
door open.
I turned around and froze.
It was a man, his face covered in stubble.
William… he was out of jail.
He asked me to have coffee with him at the
café across the street.
Ten years had changed him. He had lost so much weight and his hands–once perfect. -were rough and cracked.
“Emberly, I know have wronged you and Will, and I paid for it,” he muttered. “Now that I’m out, will you let me make it up to
you?”
I took a sip of the coffee and winced. It was
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so bitter.
“No,” I replied. With that, I stood up to leave.
But he stopped me. He held out his hand, and in his palm was a repaired emerald pendant.
Back then, a piece of it had broken off. I’d forgotten all about it, but apparently, he
hadn’t.
“Here,” he said. “It’s yours.”
I took the pendant, and I was about to thank him, but he suddenly coughed so hard that blood splattered onto his hand.
He kept coughing, the blood coming faster and thicker.
I pulled out my handkerchief and handed it to him, but it was soaked red in no time..
William didn’t seem to care. He just washed his face and came back like nothing had happened.
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“I got sick in prison,” he said quietly. “When I got out, I found out it was too late.”
I guess, sometimes, life has a strange way of settling scores.
What he took from me was taken back.
I said goodbye to him that day. He insisted on following me, though–he even bought a stuffed bunny from my shop before he left.
I didn’t see him again after that.
Not until winter.
It was the season’s first snowfall.
One of my staff came in, holding a stuffed bunny. “Ma’am, someone left this outside. It’s one of ours.”
The second I saw it, I knew–it was the stuffed toy William had bought before.
I pressed the stuffed bunny’s left eye, and as I expected, William’s voice played.
“I’m dying, and my biggest regret is that you’re not by my side.”
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With a beep, the recording ended.
“Put it back outside,” I said quietly. And then, I went upstairs.
There, on the couch, sat another stuffed
bunny. Its red eyes stared back at me, its white fur faintly stained.
“Will,” I whispered, “William’s gone.”
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I wiped my tears away with the back of my hand.
Then, I pressed the bunny’s left eye.
After over two decades, Will’s voice came through.
“Emmy, you dummy! You big dummy!”
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