At six seventeen in the morning, Adrian received the call.
He had not slept.
For hours he had been pacing through the house where Elena once lived, opening drawers, checking closets, calling every number connected to her.
Nothing.
Then his assistant’s name appeared on the screen.
Adrian answered immediately.
“Did you find her?”
There was silence.
“Speak.”
“Mr. Blake…”
His assistant’s voice trembled.
“The coastal police found some of Mrs. Blake’s belongings near the sea.”
Adrian stopped moving.
“What belongings?”
“Her coat.”
A pause.
“Her shoes.”
Another.
“And Mia’s empty urn.”
The phone almost slipped from Adrian’s hand.
“No.”
“Sir…”
“No.”
He grabbed the edge of the table.
“Where is Elena?”
“They haven’t found her.”
Adrian closed his eyes.
For anyone else, those words might have offered hope.
For him, they sounded like a sentence.
Because he remembered the funeral-home document.
Mia Blake.
Cremated remains.
And suddenly, for the first time since his daughter’s death, Adrian understood that Elena had carried their child’s ashes away completely alone.
While he prepared to marry Claire.
He grabbed his car keys.
“Cancel everything.”
His assistant hesitated.
“The wedding?”
“Everything.”
“But the guests are already arriving.”
Adrian’s voice broke.
“I said cancel it!”
At that exact moment, I was standing inside the wedding hall.
Invisible.
Untouchable.
Still tied to him.
The System’s voice had explained only one thing after my elimination:
My existence in that world had ended, but the punishment for mission failure remained.
I could not return to my body.
I could not speak to anyone.
I could not leave Adrian’s side beyond a certain distance.
I was forced to watch.
That was supposed to be my punishment.
But when Adrian burst into the wedding venue wearing yesterday’s clothes and a face drained of color, I realized something.
Perhaps the punishment would not belong only to me.
Claire ran toward him.
“Adrian, where have you been?”
He walked past her.
She grabbed his arm.
“The ceremony starts in twenty minutes.”
He turned.
“There won’t be a ceremony.”
Claire froze.
“What?”
His mother immediately approached.
“Adrian, there are journalists outside.”
“I don’t care.”
“Three hundred guests are here.”
“I said I don’t care!”
The hall went silent.
No one had ever heard Adrian Blake shout at his mother.
Claire’s eyes filled.
“Is this because of Elena?”
My name seemed to strike him.
He looked at her.
Then his gaze fell to Noah.
The little boy stood beside the flower arch wearing a miniature suit.
He smiled when he saw Adrian.
“Dad!”
Yesterday, that word would have softened Adrian instantly.
Today he staggered backward.
Because Mia had never learned to say it.
I saw the realization cross his face.
He had spent months allowing Noah to call him father.
While his own daughter had disappeared from the world without ever receiving the same tenderness.
Claire stepped closer.
“Adrian, please. Noah is scared.”
Adrian stared at the child.
Then whispered:
“Where was Elena when Mia died?”
Claire went pale.
“What?”
“I asked where she was.”
She looked around nervously.
“This isn’t the place.”
“Answer me.”
“Adrian—”
“WHERE WAS SHE?”
Noah began crying.
Several guests turned away.
Claire finally whispered:
“At the hospital.”
“Alone?”
She didn’t answer.
That was enough.
Adrian laughed.
It was a terrible sound.
Empty.
Almost disbelieving.
“And where was I?”
Claire began shaking her head.
“Don’t do this.”
“Where was I?”
“With us.”
The words fell between them.
Adrian closed his eyes.
I stood only a few steps away.
For so long, I had wanted him to understand.
Now that he finally did, I felt nothing.
Not satisfaction.
Not relief.
Only exhaustion.
His assistant entered carrying a folder.
“Sir.”
Adrian turned instantly.
“News?”
The assistant hesitated.
“The police found CCTV footage from the coastal road.”
Adrian grabbed the folder.
“Where is she?”
“They can confirm Mrs. Blake arrived there alone.”
“And afterward?”
“There’s a gap in the cameras.”
Adrian stared at him.
“What does that mean?”
“It means…”
The assistant swallowed.
“We cannot establish where she went.”
Claire suddenly said:
“Then maybe she left deliberately.”
Everyone looked at her.
She continued quickly.
“Maybe this is Elena trying to punish you.”
Adrian’s expression changed.
“If she wanted to punish me…”
He looked at the wedding decorations.
“She would have come here.”
Claire went silent.
Adrian looked toward the giant photograph displayed beside the altar.
A perfect engagement portrait.
Him and Claire.
Smiling.
Happy.
He walked toward it.
Then pulled it down.
The frame crashed against the floor.
Guests gasped.
His mother shouted:
“Adrian!”
He ignored her.
He tore the flower arrangement from the altar.
Then another.
Claire grabbed him.
“Stop!”
He pulled away.
“You wanted this wedding.”
“So did you!”
“I wanted Elena to see it.”
His confession silenced the room.
Claire stared at him.
“What?”
Adrian looked almost confused by his own words.
As though he had only just realized the truth.
“I wanted her to come.”
His voice lowered.
“I wanted her to see that I had moved on.”
“Why?”
Claire’s face crumpled.
“If you truly didn’t care about her, why did you need her watching?”
Adrian couldn’t answer.
Because there was no answer that wouldn’t expose him.
He had wanted Elena hurt.
He had wanted proof that she still cared.
He had wanted her trapped nearby while he married someone else.
He had called it victory.
Now the woman he had spent years refusing to release was simply…
gone.
His assistant’s phone rang.
He listened.
Then his face changed.
“Mr. Blake.”
Adrian turned.
“What?”
“It’s the hospital.”
My heart seemed to stop even though I no longer had one.
The assistant continued:
“They reviewed Mia’s surgical file.”
Adrian’s expression hardened.
“What about it?”
“There are discrepancies.”
Claire went still.
I noticed.
So did Adrian.
He slowly turned toward her.
“What discrepancies?”
The assistant opened the folder.
“The procedure that was performed on Mia was not the procedure originally approved by the ethics committee.”
Silence.
Adrian stared at him.
“What are you saying?”
“The records show the surgical plan was altered hours before the operation.”
Claire whispered:
“That’s impossible.”
The assistant looked directly at her.
“No, Miss Beaumont.”
His voice became colder.
“The amendment request carries your signature.”
Adrian’s face emptied.
Claire stepped backward.
“I signed dozens of papers. I didn’t know—”
Adrian took the document.
He read it.
Once.
Twice.
Then his eyes moved to the bottom.
Another signature appeared beneath Claire’s.
The attending surgeon.
And beside that…
Adrian Blake.
His own authorization.
He stared at it.
“I never signed this.”
The assistant swallowed.
“That’s the problem.”
Adrian raised his head.
“What problem?”
“The signature was electronically authenticated from your private account.”
His face changed.
Only three people had access to that account.
Adrian.
His assistant.
And Claire.
I looked at her.
For the first time since I had known her, Claire no longer looked fragile.
She looked terrified.
Adrian stepped toward her.
“What did you do?”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“What did you do to my daughter?”
Claire shook her head violently.
“Adrian, listen to me—”
But before she could finish, another voice came from the entrance.
An elderly doctor stood there.
The same surgeon who had operated on Mia.
He was holding a sealed envelope.
His face was gray.
“I think,” he said quietly, “Mr. Blake needs to know why Mia was chosen for that operation in the first place.”
Adrian froze.
Claire stopped breathing.
The doctor looked at her.
Then at Noah.
And finally at Adrian.
“Because Noah was never the patient whose life depended on Mia.”
The entire hall became silent.
Adrian’s hand began to shake.
“What does that mean?”
The doctor opened the envelope.
Inside was a genetic report.
He placed it in Adrian’s hands.
And the moment Adrian read the first line…
he looked at Claire as if he had finally realized that Mia’s death had never been an accident.
