The vase shattered against the wall.

Photographs fell everywhere.

Co Thua Vu finally moved.

—Ninh An!

He reached for my wrist.

I stepped back.

—Don’t touch me.

His hand froze.

Tong Noan Noan instinctively protected her stomach.

—An An, listen to me. Things aren’t what you think.

I laughed.

—Then explain them.

I pointed toward Thua Vu.

—Explain why my dead husband is standing in your house.

Neither spoke.

—Explain why you married him while I visited his grave every weekend.

Silence.

—Explain why you encouraged me to leave the country today.

Noan Noan’s face turned pale.

Thua Vu finally spoke.

—The mission five years ago was classified.

—For five years?

—My identity had to disappear.

—Then why could she know?

That question destroyed his excuse.

His eyes shifted away.

I understood.

Noan Noan hadn’t discovered the truth accidentally.

She had been included.

I hadn’t.

—When did she know you were alive?

He remained silent.

I looked at her.

—When?

Her lips trembled.

—Three months after the mission.

Something inside me became strangely quiet.

Three months.

I had mourned him for five years.

She had mourned him for ninety days.

—Why?

Thua Vu answered.

—Noan Noan was connected to the operation. Keeping her close was necessary.

I looked at the anniversary card.

—Did the operation require marrying her too?

His face tightened.

—Ninh An—

—Did national security require the roses?

He couldn’t answer.

That was enough.

I removed my wedding ring.

For five years, I had never taken it off.

I placed it on the table.

—From this moment onward, you’re dead to me for real.

He suddenly grabbed my arm.

—You can’t leave yet.

I looked down at his hand.

—Major General Co, release me.

Something in my voice made him obey.

Noan Noan began crying.

—An An, I never wanted you to suffer.

I turned toward her.

—You recommended the psychiatrist abroad.

Her crying stopped.

—You knew I would visit his grave before leaving, didn’t you?

Her expression changed.

That was when I realized something else.

The grave.

His photograph had been replaced only recently.

Why?

I pulled out my phone.

The cemetery surveillance showed the timestamp.

Two days earlier.

Someone had deliberately changed the tombstone immediately before my scheduled departure.

I looked at Noan Noan.

—You wanted me to discover him.

Thua Vu turned sharply toward her.

—What?

She stepped backward.

—No.

I continued.

—You spent five years hiding him successfully, yet two days before sending me overseas, his grave suddenly changed.

Thua Vu’s expression darkened.

—Noan Noan?

She clutched her stomach.

—I don’t know anything about it.

My phone rang.

It was Daniel, my former military assistant.

—Major Ning, I checked the cemetery records.

I switched to speaker.

—Tell me.

—The request to replace the tombstone photograph came from an administrative account belonging to the Tong family.

Noan Noan went completely still.

Thua Vu stared at her.

—Why?

She finally snapped.

—Because I was tired!

Her voice echoed through the room.

—I was tired of living like your secret wife while everyone still called Ninh An your widow!

Thua Vu’s face changed.

She continued bitterly:

—Every anniversary, every memorial ceremony, every military article still talked about your legendary love for her.

She pointed at me.

—I wanted her gone.

I finally understood.

The psychiatrist.

London.

The changed grave.

She had wanted me to discover enough to break me, then disappear overseas.

But she had miscalculated one thing.

I wasn’t the woman I had been five years earlier.

I walked toward the door.

Thua Vu followed.

—Ninh An, wait.

I stopped without turning.

—Tomorrow, my attorney will contact you.

—Attorney?

I finally faced him.

—You may have declared yourself dead.

I raised my left hand, showing the pale mark where my ring had been.

—But nobody ever dissolved our marriage.

His face lost color.

Noan Noan whispered:

—That’s impossible.

I smiled coldly.

—Is it?

The next morning, military investigators arrived at their residence.

Not because I wanted revenge.

Because a supposedly deceased major general had maintained a second legal identity, occupied military housing, and entered another marriage while his first marriage remained officially registered.

But the biggest shock came that afternoon.

My father called me to headquarters.

He placed a sealed S-class mission file on the desk.

—Ninh An, there’s something wrong with Thua Vu’s death report.

I frowned.

—Obviously.

—No.

My father opened the file.

—Something much worse.

The original order showed that Co Thua Vu had indeed been assigned to disappear temporarily after the operation.

For six months.

Not five years.

I stared at the page.

—Then why didn’t he come back?

My father slid another document toward me.

Six months after his supposed death, High Command had authorized Co Thua Vu to restore his identity and return home.

He had refused.

Voluntarily.

My hands went cold.

Then I saw the signature beneath the request supporting his continued disappearance.

Tong Noan Noan.

But below hers was another signature.

Someone far more powerful.

Someone whose handwriting I recognized instantly.

I looked at my father.

He couldn’t meet my eyes.

—Dad?

His face seemed to age ten years.

—Ninh An, before you blame Thua Vu alone, there’s something I should have told you five years ago.

He slowly removed another file from the safe.

On the cover was my name.

NING AN — S-CLASS PROTECTION ORDER.

My father looked at me.

—Thua Vu wasn’t originally ordered to disappear because his life was in danger.

His voice dropped.

—He disappeared because someone had issued an assassination contract against you.