Chapter 17
Days blurred into nights, and nights stretched into long, lonely hours that weighed heavily on Rachel’s heart. Though she was free from prison, she was trapped in a cage far more suffocating — the prison built by Eric’s cold hatred, the silent walls of suspicion, and the crushing burden of blame that everyone around her carried.
After that rainy day in the bookstore, Eric didn’t come back. His silence was deafening, like a storm gathering just beyond the horizon. Rachel spent her mornings wandering the streets of Shanghai, places she used to love now feeling strange and empty. Every glance from a passerby seemed to carry a secret judgment, every whispered word a reminder of the lies that had been spun about her.
She had lost everything — her family, her friends, and the man she had loved with all her heart. The Morris family had turned their backs on her, influenced by Eric’s ruthless commands and the bitter truth they believed in: that she was responsible for Helen’s death. Their cold rejection was like icy fingers closing around her soul, leaving her numb and alone.
But Rachel was not one to give up easily.
Inside her small rented apartment, with peeling wallpaper and a single flickering light, Rachel’s determination burned stronger than ever. She knew the truth was buried deep beneath layers of pain, anger, and lies. She needed to fight — not just for her own freedom, but to clear her name and confront the darkness that had taken hold of Eric’s heart.
One evening, as the city lights flickered on like distant stars, Rachel sat by the window, watching the world outside. Her phone buzzed with a message — a simple line from an unknown number: “I believe you.”
Her heart skipped a beat.
The message was from an old friend of Helen’s, someone who had quietly observed the truth behind the scenes. It was a lifeline, a flicker of hope in the endless night.
Rachel’s fingers trembled as she typed back, “Help me.”
She knew the path ahead was dangerous. Eric was a man consumed by vengeance, a man who had the power to destroy her once more. But this time, Rachel wouldn’t run or kneel. She would stand tall and fight.
Days later, a shadowy figure appeared at her door. Tall and lean, with eyes that held secrets and a smile that was both reassuring and wary.
“My name’s David,” he said quietly. “Helen trusted me. She wanted someone to find the truth when things went wrong. She believed in you.”
Rachel’s breath caught. For the first time since her release, she felt the possibility of justice stirring.
Together, they began piecing together fragments of Helen’s last days — messages, hidden recordings, whispered confessions from those too afraid to speak out loud.
But with every step closer to the truth, Rachel felt the walls closing in tighter. Eric’s reach was long, his fury unyielding. Rumors spread like wildfire, and soon she realized she wasn’t just fighting for herself — she was fighting a war against a man who saw her not as a person, but as a monster.
One night, as Rachel sat poring over documents in the dim light, her phone rang. The voice on the other end was low and cold.
“Stop digging, Rachel. You don’t know what you’re getting into.”
She stared at the phone, the threat lingering in the silence that followed.
But she refused to be scared.
No matter how deep the darkness, no matter how fierce the storm, Rachel promised herself she would never stop searching for the light.
Because somewhere beneath all the pain and hatred, she still believed there was a chance — a chance for truth, for forgiveness, and maybe, one day, for love.