A Love That Ended in Blood

Edith Frost was a rose nurtured by Earl Frost.

Countless times, she had clung to his strong frame, crying in his arms and pleading, "Earl, please love me."

She had resorted to cutting her wrists, threatening to jump off buildings, and drowning herself in severe depression just to keep him by her side.

Yet, in the end, it was Edith who ended his life with her own hands.

When Earl collapsed into a pool of blood, his eyes brimmed with disbelief. "Edith, you said you loved me."

Tears streamed down her face as Edith gently touched his cheek. "Earl, it's been ten years. Have you ever dreamed of them, even once?"

"In the dead of night, do you know what these years have been like for me?"

——

That night, when Earl stumbled home drunk, Edith locked his girlfriend out of the house.

She struggled to drag Earl onto the large bed in the master bedroom, her hands trembling as she touched and kissed him in the dark.

It was the eighth time.

The eighth time Edith had stolen a kiss from her brother in secret.

He was lost in a drunken haze. His large hands—strong and distinct—gripping her wrist as he muttered in a daze, "Edith, stop it." Edith was the name of the woman he loved.

Jealousy surged within Edith, but she swallowed it down, whispering in a trembling voice, "Earl..."

The moment his full name left her lips, a surge of forbidden excitement coursed through her, her blood pounding in her ears. Edith had never dared to call him by his full name before—not to his face.

Her lips quivered as she leaned closer to his reddened earlobe, whispering again and again, "Earl... Earl..."

Suddenly, he flipped her over, pinning her beneath him as he hugged her tightly. "Edith, be good," he murmured, his voice tender and gentle, as if soothing the woman he cherished most in the world.

His hands, warm and steady, carried the weight of a man’s love. His voice dripped with affection, but it wasn’t for her.

Of course, it wasn’t. Edith was the woman he adored.

And Edith? She was nothing more than an adopted sister, bound to him by neither blood nor love.

Ten years by his side couldn’t hold a candle to the six short months Edith had spent stealing all of his heart.

She curled up in Earl's arms, like a helpless, trembling hare.

It was unbearably hot.

Edith felt as though she was on fire, uncertain whether it was from jealousy or the heat radiating from his body.

With great effort, she stretched her hand out from under his arm and clung to him even tighter.

Earl, please don’t leave me.

The moonlight poured in softly, illuminating her delicate arms, pale as paper. The red string tied to her jade pendant glowed faintly, vivid as blood against her skin.

Earl’s breath brushed against her neck, warm and steady.

The world felt as if it had turned upside down.

His eyes fluttered open, hazy at first, but what he saw jolted him awake.

“Edith?”

Under the dim glow of the moonlight, Earl could make out the youthful, innocent face of the person beneath him.

In an instant, his muddled confusion gave way to clarity. Alarmed, he scrambled out of bed, his movements sharp and hurried.

“Why is it you?”

Fumbling, Earl reached for the light switch, his voice tinged with awkwardness and guilt.

“Sorry, I drank too much. I thought… I thought you were your sisterinlaw…”

As the light flickered on, his words faltered, dying in his throat. He turned away abruptly, unable to face her.

There, standing before him in the pale light, was Edith—his 18yearold adopted sister, standing in his room in the dead of night.

Although nothing improper had happened, their proximity, their contact, was enough to fill him with panic.

“It’s late. Why are you here?”

His voice was a mix of reprimand, discomfort, and command—an attempt. But it lacked any trace of affection.

Edith didn’t move. She stared at his turned back, her heart sinking like a shattered dream.

His avoidance, his refusal to meet her eyes, pierced her deeply.

Tears welled up quickly, blurring her vision, shimmering faintly under the harsh light. She remained motionless, her gaze fixed on him.

Earl kept his back to her, as though refusing to acknowledge her presence.

In the reflection of the window, they were a frozen tableau—a man and a woman locked in silence, their emotions unspoken but heavy in the air.

After a long silence, Edith bit her lip, her voice trembling as she choked out, "I just can’t compare to her, can I?"

Earl’s gaze lingered on Edith by the window, deep and unreadable. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

The room was silent, save for the sound of Edith’s muffled sobs.

He didn’t respond.

Edith buried her face in the quilt, showing him nothing but a lonely, retreating back.

After an indeterminate amount of time, Earl tossed a shirt onto the bed and walked out of the room without a hint of hesitation.

Before leaving, he spoke, his tone fainted but firm.

"Edith, I raised you for ten years after your parents left."

"I didn’t do it so you could learn to degrade yourself or act without shame like this."

Her tears soaked into the shirt he had thrown.

Degrade herself? Act without shame?

Earl… what am I to you?

The next morning, when Edith woke up, Earl had already left for the office.

A light drizzle fell outside, tapping softly against the windows.

On the dining table, a note awaited her in his familiar handwriting:

The milk is warm; drink it. Lunch is in the pot. The aunt will come by to wash the clothes.

He pretended nothing had happened, just like the past seven times.

Edith sneered bitterly at herself. She would be nineteen soon, not nine.

For ten years, he had been leaving notes like this, treating her as though she would never grow up.

Still, she obediently drank the milk and sent him an Instagram message: I’m done.

His reply was instant: You have a class at 1:30 PM. Don’t forget to go to school.

Earl had chosen Edith’s university—a tenminute walk from home. He had refused to let her live on campus.

Her life had revolved around this house for as long as she could remember, her only excursions being to attend classes.

With her toothbrush in her mouth, she sent another message: Brother, let’s go to that new chicken wing place near the house tonight. It’s raining.

By the sink, her skincare products stood beside his facial cleanser. Their toothbrushes—matching electric ones, different only in style—rested side by side.

The pink rabbitthemed mouthwash cup was a set she had picked, and though he had grumbled about it, he used it anyway.

Earl… you say you can’t love me, yet our lives are so intertwined.

What about all the unspoken indulgence, the quiet doting, even the moments of tenderness?

Edith lifted her gaze to the mirror. The girl staring back had delicate eyebrows, eyes that seemed to hold secrets, and beauty as ephemeral as smoke and dreams. Yet, the faint vulnerability in her gaze always seemed to awaken a man’s instinct to protect.

That face—flawless and enchanting—had been plastered on the university’s confession wall the very first day she arrived. Everyone agreed: Edith was the most beautiful freshman at A University.

A notification from Earl lit up her phone: Another day. Today is Valentine’s Day—I promised to have dinner with Edith.

With a loud crack, the mirror shattered.

Edith again. It’s always her.

Earl hadn’t had dinner with Edith in a long time.

Edith feared rainy nights; her mother had died on one. Earl had once promised her that unless there was an unavoidable obligation, he would always come home on rainy nights to have dinner with her.

But Edith had broken promises over and over again.

Liar. They’re all liars.

Her knuckles brushed against the jagged fragments, sharp edges slicing into her skin. Blood began to drip onto the cold tiles.

Edith wiped her face, smearing blood across her cheeks, and then sat amidst the broken shards. She raised her injured hand, snapped a photo, and sent it to Earl.

She lay down on the icy ground, her phone glowing faintly in the corner of her vision as the screen lit up and dimmed.

Within half an hour, hurried footsteps echoed outside the door.

Earl burst in, his voice laced with panic. "Edith, what happened? Why are you bleeding?"

Edith remained on the floor, surrounded by the mess. She didn’t speak. She didn’t look at him. Tears streamed silently down her face.

With ease, Earl scooped her into his strong arms. His voice was exasperated but soft as he sighed, "You’re really made of water—always crying, aren’t you?"

He placed Edith gently on the sofa and knelt halfway to apply medicine to her hand. “Why are you always so careless?”

Earl’s movements were meticulous, his fingers light as he tended to the wound. Watching him, Edith couldn’t help but feel a pang in her heart.

“Brother,” she whimpered, hooking her pinky around his, her eyes welling with tears once more. “Do you really have to be with Edith?”

His hand froze momentarily but resumed its task as if her words hadn’t struck a nerve.

“Yes,” he replied calmly. “I’m almost thirty, and you’re an adult now. It’s time for me to settle down, and you should feel at ease starting your own life too.”

“Edith is a good girl,” he continued, his tone steady. “Don’t worry. She’ll treat you well. Even when we have children of our own in the future, you’ll always be my family. Everything I own will be divided equally between you.”

Such a generous, noble promise.

Edith should have been content with that.

She knew the truth—they weren’t related by blood. Earl had simply been a friend of her parents, taking her in after they passed and raising her for ten years, giving her a life of comfort and privilege.

She should have been grateful.

He was her family’s benefactor, wasn’t he?

But… but…

Tears glistened in her eyes as she looked at him. “Brother, I miss my parents.”

He acknowledged her softly. “Mm.”

Edith leaned her head on his shoulder, her voice trembling. “Do you miss them too?”

Earl didn’t push her away. Instead, he finished tying a neat bow on the bandage around her hand, capped the iodine bottle, and tidied up the medical kit. “Yes,” he said simply. “I do miss them.”

Nestled against him like a baby bird seeking warmth, Edith murmured, “It’s good to miss them.”

That evening, Edith came home carrying a beautifully packaged fruit basket.

Her long, wavy hair and flawless makeup radiated the confidence and charm of a mature woman.

Kicking off her high heels at the door, she stood barefoot until Earl handed her a pair of disposable slippers.

Edith slipped them on and looked down at her feet. The slippers were decorated with bright yellow ducks—playful and childish. She glanced over and saw Earl’s pair in blue, just as quirky and completely at odds with his usual polished demeanor of tailored suits and leather shoes.

She couldn’t suppress a giggle, covering her mouth with one hand. “Mr. Frost, wearing something so childish? It doesn’t suit you at all.”

Earl chuckled, his expression warm. “Children like them, so we just go along with it.”

Earl greeted Edith warmly, “Your sister heard about your injured hand and was so worried she insisted on coming to see you.”

His tone carried a subtle sense of pride, as though Edith’s kindness and thoughtfulness were his own achievements, something to be proud of, like a man boasting about his beloved.

Edith forced a sweet smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Thank you, Aunt Edith.”

Edith laughed lightly, reaching out to touch her head. “Aunt? I’m only ten years older than you! Just call me sister.”

Carefully avoiding Edith’s injured hand, she gently guided her toward the fruit basket she’d brought. “I picked out some fruits for you. Make sure to take care of that hand.”

The fruit basket didn’t have much variety, but each item was something Edith loved.

Earl glanced at it with a trace of surprise. “You actually know what she likes to eat? That’s impressive. She’s a picky one.”

Edith’s smile grew, a touch of pride in her expression. “Of course! I care about her deeply.”

Her gaze, filled with affection, lingered on Edith as she spoke.

Yes, the more thoughtful she was toward Edith, the more it reflected how much she loved him.

Earl was like a clean, bright house filled with light, while Edith felt like a lonely crow perched in its shadow, forever out of place.

As the conversation continued, Edith unconsciously bit her lower lip, her emotions bubbling beneath the surface.

Carefully, Edith pulled out the fruits, revealing a teddy bear tucked at the bottom of the basket. She held it up with a triumphant smile, as though seeking approval.

“Last time I saw the old teddy bear in your room with its stuffing coming out, I searched high and low to find the exact same one. It must mean a lot to you, right?”

The surge of overwhelming love in her voice was undeniable, pressing in like a tide Edith couldn’t escape.

She felt like she might drown in it.

“I will love you, Edith,” Edith whispered, her words soft but resolute.

The heavy rain, the car accident, the dim and flickering lights in the prison. Edith’s small, trembling hand gripped tightly, and when she looked up, her father’s desperate, ashen eyes stared back at her—

Countless fragmented memories pieced themselves together into a nightmare Edith would never escape.

“Ah—!”

Her scream pierced the silence.

Earl quickly stepped forward and pulled her into his arms. Edith clutched at her ears, wailing in sheer panic, her body trembling as though the fear would tear her apart.

“What happened? What did I do?” Edith sobbed, her hands shaking uncontrollably. “I’m sorry—what happened?”

Earl shushed her gently, signaling her to stay calm as he carried her into the bedroom.

But Edith fought to free herself, her nails clawing at his arms, leaving three bloodied scratches. She scrambled onto the bed, cocooning herself in the quilt, trembling like a trapped bird.

Earl tugged at the quilt twice but couldn’t pull her free. Realizing her distress, he left to speak with Edith, the murmurs of their conversation drifting faintly through the ajar door.

“Her father gave her a birthday gift when she was nine…”

“…the next day, arrested… company financial disputes…”

“…his last gift… a happy family…”

“…she loved him so much…”

The whispers grew quieter, eventually fading away altogether.

Earl returned and shut the door, but not before Edith caught a glimpse of his face through the narrow crack—a profile steeped in pity, his gaze soft as he embraced Edith. Their two shadows, elongated and entwined, flickered briefly on the wall.

Yet, despite his presence, he didn’t meet her eyes. He didn’t turn back.

Even when Edith’s cries turned hoarse, reduced to choked sobs, he remained silent.

That night, Edith cried until her voice broke, just as she had when she first came to Earl’s house—a fragile child, her parents gone in the blink of an eye. Her only resistance against a cruel world was tears.

Earl had stayed with her then, cradling her small body all night, coaxing her out from beneath the quilt with infinite patience.

“Don’t be afraid, Edith. I’ll always be here for you. Always.”

But now, those scars—her scars—were merely a story he used to comfort another woman, all to excuse his sister’s rudeness.

Edith traced the red string jade pendant her mother had left her, its cold surface grounding her fleeting sense of reality. She longed to retreat into a dreamless abyss, where even memories couldn’t reach her.

Earl, you shaped my life, made it, so I had only you to hold on to.

But when others needed you, you left me behind without a second glance.

She couldn’t understand—truly, she couldn’t.

After seeing Edith out, Earl returned, letting out a sigh.

“You scared your Aunt Edith,” he said.

Edith stared at him, her voice trembling.

“Brother, why didn’t you care about me just now?”

Earl’s tone was calm but firm.

“Because she’s my girlfriend.”

Edith’s voice rose, frustration spilling out.

“Then why didn’t she apologize to me?”

Earl’s brows furrowed as he asked, “Why should she apologize to you?”

“She pities me, Brother. She looks down on me!” Edith’s voice cracked as her emotions boiled over. “I don’t need her sympathy or her selfrighteous pity. She’s rubbing salt into my wounds! Does she think everyone’s life is as happy and perfect as hers? Does she think no one can see her sense of superiority? Who even wants her charity—”

She stopped herself, shaking with anger.

Edith—the woman who was a powerhouse in the business world but naive and softhearted in front of Earl.

She had everything. Two loving parents, a privileged upbringing, and a family that adored her unconditionally. She had grown up in a life of comfort and wealth, her path lined with opportunities—college, graduate school, and a finance career in the United States. Upon returning, she had become Earl’s most trusted partner.

Half of Edith’s expensive wardrobe was funded by her own success.

Smart, beautiful, and confident, Edith was like a flaming rose—vibrant and untouchable. But she always looked down at Edith, seeing her as nothing more than a child.

And now, she had effortlessly claimed the only person Edith had in the world.

“Enough!” Earl’s sharp voice cut through the room, his expression cold and unyielding.

Edith froze, stunned. She had never seen him so stern before.

“Edith,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “She’s your future sisterinlaw. You need to learn to respect her. Do you understand?”

Edith’s heart trembled as she burst into tears, throwing herself into his arms.

“Brother, I only have you. Please don’t leave me.”

Earl’s expression shifted, his body tensing, but he held her steady. He gently rubbed her hair, his voice soft.

“Don’t be afraid. Don’t be afraid… I’ll always be here for you, Edith.”

The memories came rushing back—those rainy nights spent nestled together in the safety of their warm, sturdy home, the shared duck slippers and matching towels that became part of their daily rhythm, and the unspoken desires and forbidden affection that had grown between them, undeniable and unshakable.

“Earl,” Edith whispered, her voice trembling. “Will you love me?”

She saw it—the storm of emotions in his eyes, roiling like a thunderstorm, dark clouds colliding with streaks of lightning.

Earl gazed at her deeply, his chest rising and falling with his uneven breath, but then his gaze dropped.

“Yes,” he said finally, his voice steady but distant. “I will love you. You’re the child I raised with my own hands.”

Edith bit back her sobs, forcing herself to smile.

“Okay,” she said quietly. “Then let me move out so Edith can move in.”

Earl stiffened, his face darkened.

“If I fall in love in the future,” she continued, “it’ll be inconvenient to live at home.”

Earl cut her off immediately. “No.”

“Why not? Is it that I can’t move out, or that I can’t fall in love?”

“Neither,” he said firmly. “You’re still young.”

“I’m an adult,” she argued.

“You don’t have a job, no income. How will you support yourself?”

“You could give me an allowance, like my classmates’ parents do. Besides, the money you’ve given me already is enough for me to live comfortably for three lifetimes.”

Earl exhaled sharply, his patience wearing thin.

“In short, no.”

They locked eyes, the tension between them thick enough to cut. Earl’s gaze was implacable, leaving no room for negotiation.

Finally, Edith spoke again, her voice low and unwavering.

“Brother, don’t regret this.”

After that, Edith didn’t see Edith for a long time.

Following that night, Earl barely mentioned her name around Edith. He did, however, agree to buy a few gifts on Edith’s behalf, saying it was an apology for her earlier behavior—an act of guilt and atonement for her recklessness and misplaced superiority.

But Edith didn’t care about any of it.

What mattered to her was that her birthday was only ten days away.

Edith loved celebrating her birthday. On that day, she became the center of the universe, the most important person in the world. And for one fleeting moment, everyone’s attention would be focused solely on wishing her happiness.

Before she turned nine, it was her parents who were her world; after that, it was Earl.

Every birthday wish Edith made with heartfelt sincerity felt sacred and unbreakable, carrying the promise of coming true.

When the clock struck midnight on her birthday, Edith would light a small lamp by her bedside and read through her mother’s diary.

She’d immerse herself in the tender words written to her and about her.

That quiet ritual was the most cherished moment of her year.

“I have a birthday next week!” Edith announced cheerfully one morning.

Earl, on his way out the door, smiled warmly. “I haven’t forgotten. Let’s celebrate with dinner at home that night, alright?”

Edith’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “Okay! I’ll cook!”

Earl looked genuinely surprised. “Our Edith can cook? Now that’s something I can’t miss—even if it rains knives from the sky, I’ll be there.”

As the days on the calendar flipped by, her anticipation grew, and finally, her special day arrived.

There were no classes that day, so Edith spent the entire afternoon in the kitchen, determined to prepare a proper meal.

Cooking was unfamiliar territory for her; Earl rarely let her do it. She fumbled her way through, earning two blisters from the heat and a small cut on her thumb while chopping vegetables.

Still, she pressed on, ignoring the sting of her injuries.

By the time the sun was setting, she had managed to prepare a modest spread of dishes. She carefully arranged them on the table, placing the cake at the center, surrounded by flowers and candles she’d bought for decoration.

The flickering candlelight gave the room a warm glow, and Edith couldn’t help but feel proud of her effort.

She picked up her phone to text Earl, asking when he’d be home.

The message went unanswered. The phone stayed silent.

Six o’clock arrived, and with it came the soft hues of dusk. Outside, the world moved on. Pedestrians hurried by, and workers crowded the vegetable stalls below.

Still, there was no reply from Earl.

Edith waited, her patience unwavering.

At seven o'clock, the sky had already darkened, and the electric cars passing by were turning on their headlights.

She had made several calls, but no one answered. Edith had resolved in her mind that if Earl came home tonight, she wouldn’t give him an easy time. It would take at least an hour of coaxing before they could make amends.

By eight o'clock, the darkness had fully settled in, and even the vendors had closed their stalls for the night.

The dishes on the table had been reheated twice, only to cool again. The cake had collapsed slightly, and Edith carefully picked it up, placing it gently in the refrigerator.

Anxiety began to creep into her thoughts. Earl had never broken a promise to her before. He hadn’t replied to her messages, couldn’t be reached by phone, and now darkness had enveloped the house. Was something wrong? Had something happened—maybe a car accident?

Edith’s heart pounded, and with every guess, her anxiety grew. She kept calling Earl, only to be met with silence.

When Earl was unreachable, she couldn’t contact anyone close to him either. Her mind raced, and she was frantically moving about the room like a headless fly.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.

It was an Fedex delivery man, holding a large, beautifully packaged box.

“Mr. Earl’s house, right? You’ve got a package. Please sign for it.”

Relief washed over Edith, and a small smile formed as she signed her name, writing “Edith” neatly on the line.

She felt a spark of excitement. It had to be her birthday gift, right? Earl hadn’t responded to her messages, so maybe this was his way of making it up—surprising her with fireworks, ribbons, balloons, and flowers.

Suppressing her joy, Edith opened the package carefully.

Inside was a set of highend antiaging skincare products. At twenty years old, she had officially entered adulthood, and it was time to transition her skincare to a more mature line.

Edith examined the products happily, ready to use them that night. She thought, despite her anger, that Earl’s thoughtfulness was something worth appreciating.

At the bottom of the box, however, was a branded greeting card. Edith hummed softly as she unwrapped it, exciting building.

But the moment she saw the printed words, her heart stopped.

The words were clear:

Dear Edith.

Not Edith.

This was meant for Edith.

Not for her.

Edith’s hands trembled—not from excitement, but from fury and pain.

She threw the gift box down with force. The glass bottles shattered into pieces, and the essence spilled onto the floor.

“This is your last chance, Earl,” she whispered to herself, staring at the mess. “If you come back with a cake and a gift, I might forgive you for this.”

Edith leaned back against the door, watching the clock silently tick toward midnight.

Outside, the house was silent.

At one o'clock in the morning, a loud knock echoed through the stillness.

“Edith! Open the door!”

No response came from inside.

The voice grew anxious, desperate. “Edith? Speak to me!”

Footsteps retreated—Earl must have gone to the property management office for a spare key.

A loud thud echoed as the door was opened forcefully. Edith, sitting behind the door, was flung to the ground, her body colliding with shattered skincare products.

Earl’s face was red and dry, his eyes filled with worry.

Behind Edith, a candle had long since burned out, and a table laden with cold, forgotten food sat untouched.

Anyone who saw the scene would know—this was a birthday that had been carefully prepared, but no one had cared to show up.

Edith's gaze shifted downward.

Earl stood in front of her emptyhanded.

He hadn’t brought anything back.

The anger that had briefly flared in her eyes faded just as quickly.

Earl's mouth opened and closed, fumbling for words, but none came.

At that moment, everything became painfully clear.

Earl had forgotten her birthday.

Edith stood up, her emotions unraveled.

"You promised to come home early," she said, breaking free from his grasp. "I waited for you all day."

"I thought something had happened—maybe a car accident. I almost called the police."

"But then I realized," her tears finally fell, "I couldn’t even reach anyone close to you."

The tall man before her stood in silence, his expression lost and helpless.

"Edith…"

Her voice was steady, though her heart trembled.

"Earl," she said again, "you made me a person who only has you in the world."

"You can love anyone else, but you’ve taken away the possibility of me loving anyone else."

"If you can’t love me, don’t give me the hope of being with you."

"You’ve indulged me. And now, what’s the difference between me and the dogs you raise?"

"Dogs aren’t allowed to touch other people’s food, and I’m not allowed to engage with others."

"If you’re happy, you can promise to be with me forever, and when you feel like it, you can find me a new mother."

Earl was silent, struggling to respond.

"Edith, it’s not like that."

"You can call me—"

His words faltered, weak and empty.

Edith sniffled, wiping her tears.

"Where did you go last night?"

She shook her phone in his direction, a bitter smile forming on her lips.

"Look at your phone. Instagram notifications—are there at least five hundred messages from me?"

Earl hesitated, pulling out his phone. He stared at the screen, filled with her messages, and realized it had been on silent mode.

His face twisted in frustration.

Edith asked again, voice steady.

"Where did you go last night?"

Earl poked his cheek with the tip of his tongue—a habit he always resorted to when uncertain.

Edith swiftly snatched the phone from his hand.

Her facial recognition unlocked the device, revealing the messages she had sent.

Edith Baby: What a happy evening!

Edith Baby: Hahahaha, let’s go to this bar together next time. The atmosphere is amazing.

Edith Baby: Let’s ask Edith to come along. She’s an adult now. Seeing more of the world will help her avoid being easily deceived.

Earl: It’s not safe to let her go.

Edith raised an eyebrow, looking directly at him. Her gaze was sharp, cutting through hesitation.

"My birthday," she pointed toward the table behind her, where the dishes sat cold.

She lifted the injured gauzewrapped hand and showed it to him. "I cooked this for you. You said you’d come home, even if it rained knives from the sky."

A tear slid down her cheek as she smiled bitterly.

"Your knife is to take Edith to a bar?"

With a dismissive gesture, she swiped the phone away and let it fall to the floor.

It landed on the ground, the plastic bear on the phone case cracking upon impact.

That bear had been a gift—a moment they had shared together. Edith had cherished it, proudly displaying it as a symbol of their bond. Now, it lay broken at its feet.

Now broken into two sections:

A series of questions left Earl visibly irritated.

"Edith, is it wrong for your boyfriend to want to pin something to the top?"

"I didn’t spend your birthday with you. Is it really necessary to make a scene in the middle of the night, blocking me at the door like this?!"

"Edith! You’re nineteen, not nine!"

His voice was sharp and impatient.

As soon as the words left his mouth, he noticed Edith’s face pale, and he immediately regretted his harsh tone. Still, his pride wouldn’t allow him to soften his stance.

Edith spoke quietly, as if to herself.

"When I was in high school, it was popular to pin close friends. Back then, you saw there were two other people in my pinned photos besides you, and you were furious—just because one of my male best friends was in there."

"You said no one except you should be in my pinned photos."

"And then they broke up with me, claiming I didn’t value them as friends."

"It didn’t bother me much, because you’re the most important to me."

Edith’s slender back trembled slightly.

"Now tell me, what’s wrong with having only Edith in your pinned photos?"

"Earl, are you being hypocritical?"

Earl’s eyes burned with suppressed anger.

He had drunk too much that night, and his mood and pressure reached their lowest point.

"Do whatever you want," he said with a sigh, brushing past Edith to retreat into the bedroom.

This birthday was unlike any other. It was the worst Edith had ever experienced—worse than when her father left.

Edith lay on the bed, her tears soaking into her arms as she reached for her mother’s diary.

"Edith is like a spring breeze. Her arrival comforted both me and her father… Before this, we never imagined such a possibility for happiness in life."

"She turns three today. We hope she will always be happy, a kind and bright little girl with the best things in the world and plenty of love."

"We wish so much love would support her throughout her life, even if one day we are gone. We want her to live bravely and powerfully in this world."

The breeze drifted through the window, stirring the familiar pages of the diary, soft words blurred by tears like a story lost in a nightmare.

"... Edith, don’t look back. Mom will always love you."

Mom, Edith can’t look back.

Mom, don’t be disappointed in me.

The parents who loved her more than anything in the world hoped she would grow up under the sun, but Edith felt herself sinking deeper into endless darkness.

Everyone knew the delicate, fragile flower growing in Earl’s home—cold, fragile, and moving.

Edith, who had been raised with tender care, was the first fragile snowflake of winter.

No, Earl, Edith isn’t a snowflake.

Her back was thin, as fragile as a piece of paper.

Determined, Edith began looking at houses near her school.

She decided it was time to move out—Earl would understand who truly needed whom.

After the birthday, Earl and Edith fell into a strained silence.

Coincidentally, the company had another overseas project, and Earl left with a cold expression and a suitcase in hand.

In those two weeks, Edith opened Earl’s chat countless times, watching the "typing…" indicator flash repeatedly.

Yet no message was ever sent.

Finally, Edith found a small rental near her school, packed up her things, and moved in.

When Earl found her at the rental house, he was met with the sight of another man—a young man named Bobby Burton, who was carefully setting down a box of books, sweat dripping down his face. His handsome smile caught in the sunlight, a shy, gentle expression in contrast to Earl’s stormy mood.

"Junior sister, is there anything else you need to move?"

Bobby's eyes were filled with tender and unabashed admiration.

The moment he saw this smart, beautiful, and slender girl feeding stray cats on campus for the first time, his heart stirred, and he couldn’t control his emotions.

Yet, all his hesitant attempts at connection had ended in failure. This was the first time he had a real opportunity.

Edith leaned on the windowsill, her delicate white earlobes almost translucent in the sunlight. Her two slender legs swayed gently, and her white skirt fluttered softly in the breeze.

A red cord tied around her wrist, holding a jade pendant. The vibrant red made her wrist look even whiter and more delicate.

Bobby gazed at Edith with deep intensity.

"Junior sister, Edith—"

Before he could finish, a man rushed through the halfopen door.

"Edith!"

It was Earl.

He saw Edith and Bobby, and the tension in the room was palpable. Earl strode forward with a sharp, angry expression, his focus entirely on Edith. Ignoring Bobby entirely, he reached out and pulled Edith up, as if intending to take her away.

"Earl, what are you doing?" Edith grabbed the cabinet beside her to steady herself, her voice firm and defiant. "Let go! There are people here!"

Earl didn’t seem to hear her. His grip tightened on her wrist, his hold firm and unyielding.

Her wrist, slender and fragile, felt as though it might snap under the pressure. His eyes burned with an unquestionable possessiveness, his male pride evident.

"Go home with me."

He and Bobby stood side by side—two contrasting figures, one mature and composed, the other youthful and inexperienced.

"Why?"

Earl glanced at Bobby, his expression shifting into one of cold disdain. A mocking smile curled at the corners of his lips.

"Why? Are you really staying here because of him?"

Edith refused to meet his gaze.

"Don’t you have Edith? Why do you still interfere in my life? I’ve moved out. What more do you want?"

His voice raised slightly, betraying a hint of panic beneath his control.

"I’m doing this for your own good. He’s not right for you! You don’t know his background. What if he has ill intentions toward you?"

"He's my senior brother!"

Edith shot back, her tone firm and unwavering. "What about you, Earl? Are you right for me?"

The question hung in the air, leaving Earl’s expression momentarily faltering before settling into indifference.

"That’s between me and her. You have no say in it. You will come back with me!"

"I won’t go back!"

Edith struggled fiercely to break free from his grasp, her voice rising in frustration. "Earl, who do you think you are? Why do you keep trying to control me!"

"I'm your brother!"

Bobby hesitated for a moment before stepping forward, his voice gentle yet firm.

"This… Edith’s brother."

"Please, calm down," Bobby said. "Edith is an adult now. She should have the right to make her own decisions. If you truly care about her, you should respect her choice."

Earl shot Bobby a cold glare.

"It's not your place to interfere in what happens between me and her."

Bobby was left speechless, his face flushing with embarrassment and frustration.

Earl opened his mouth again, his voice calm but commanding.

"Please leave."

Having just returned from a business trip, Earl’s tailored black suit clung perfectly to his muscular frame. His expensive cufflinks gleamed, reflecting the anger burning in his eyes—a gaze as sharp and fierce as a jaguar’s.

A young college student, still fresh and inexperienced, couldn’t withstand the pressure emanating from such a mature and domineering presence.

Edith sniffled softly, sending Bobby out with a quiet word.

"Brother, you go back first. It’s okay. He’s my brother."

Bobby left hesitantly, saying, "Call me anytime if you need anything."

Earl heard every word, but his mind was elsewhere. With sharp motion, he slammed the door shut behind him, cornering Edith against the wall.

His fury was palpable.

"Edith, you've become something else."

"You’re dangerous to me now. Do you need another man to protect you?"

The size difference between them was striking at that moment. He loomed over her, his presence overwhelming, while Edith clung tightly to him, like a vine wrapping around a sturdy tree.

Edith’s nose was filled with the sharp scent of pine from his tie, making her eyes sting.

Seeing her on the verge of tears, Earl immediately softened. His hand reached out to brush away the moisture gathering in her eyes.

"Do you like him?"

Edith lifted her gaze to meet him. "He cares about me."

"Your heart is too small," she continued. "If you can’t even accept me, how can you accept someone else?"

"You don’t want me anymore."

Earl shut his eyes tightly, his breath hitching in his chest.

"Fuck," he muttered, unable to deny it. "Who said I don’t care about you?"

But Edith continued, her voice steady, though her words cut deeper.

"It’s been like this since I was a child. You wouldn’t let me fall in love early, wouldn’t let other men near me. I couldn’t have a boy I liked, couldn’t get too close to anyone."

"Even now that I’m in college, even though I have nothing to do with Bobby, you still get angry and drive him away."

Her voice was measured, yet the weight of her words hung in the air.

Earl opened his mouth to speak, but before he could form a reply, his lips were claimed in a long, heated kiss.