My Fiancé Confessed His Betrayal Chapter 09

My Fiancé Confessed His Betrayal Chapter 09 Rebirth

The police arrived even faster than I had anticipated.

The doors to the grand hall burst open as uniformed officers strode in, flashing their official badges.

“Wynne Frost, you are under arrest for premeditated murder.”

Still kneeling on the floor, Wynne raised her head inch by inch, her tone chillingly serene.

“I have certified psychiatric records. The most you can do is lock me in an asylum. I’ll be back on the streets in a few years.”

She paused, casting a taunting glare toward Shane. “But what about Liz? She’s dead forever.”

An ominous silence gripped the room.

Garrett Thorne stood nearby, motionless and silent. His hands hung by his sides, fists clenched so tight that his knuckles turned stark white.

Suddenly, he lunged.

Before anyone could react, he grabbed Wynne by the nape of her neck, dragging her violently toward the open floor–to–ceiling window.

Wynne shrieked in terror as her bridal gown snagged on the carpet, tearing open with a loud rip.

Her nails clawed frantically at Garrett’s forearms, digging bloody gouges into his flesh, yet he didn’t even flinch.

“You’re out of your mind!”

Wynne’s scream reached a hysterical screech. “If you spill blood, you’re ruining your career as a cop!”

Garrett slammed her body hard against the window sill.

“Captain Vance was the man who swore me into the force,” he spoke softly.

“He taught me that a police officer’s hands are meant to protect the innocent, not destroy them.”

His voice faltered.

“Yet I killed Liz with these exact hands.”

All color drained from Wynne’s face.

“Let go of me!” she thrashed wildly. “You psychopath! If you want to end your life, go jump by yourself! Don’t drag me down with you!”

“When Liz fell from that window… it must have hurt so badly.”

Garrett never even looked at her. His whisper sounded like a distant solitude.

Then, locking his arms tightly around her, he threw both of their bodies over the ledge.

Utter pandemonium broke out across the hall.

Shane stood frozen in place like a stone statue.

The authorities dragged him away as well. He was incarcerated for 1 month.

The day he walked out of custody, a gloomy gray sky hung overhead.

He didn’t return home. Instead, he made a pilgrimage to the ancient mountain shrines.

He visited temple after temple, bowing before every sacred deity he encountered.

My floating spirit followed behind, watching him kneel on the cold stone before endless statues, endlessly muttering prayers under his breath.

I couldn’t hear his words, nor did I care to.

Until one day.

I opened my eyes.

A white ceiling. White hospital sheets.

A warm hand was gently cradling mine.

I turned my head.

My mother sat at my bedside, her eyes swollen red from crying. The instant she saw me open my eyes, she froze in complete shock.

Then she collapsed over me, crying my name so loudly that her shouts echoed throughout the entire floor.

My father stood in the doorway holding a thermos of soup. It slipped from his hand, shattering

on the floor, yet he didn’t even look down.

A doctor rushed in, checked my pupils, tested my pulse, and let out a breathless gasp.

“It’s a miracle. A genuine medical miracle.”

Lying in the hospital bed, listening to the commotion, my mind felt hazy.

Suddenly, the system’s mechanical voice resounded inside my head.

Host, Shane Sterling sacrificed his own soul and life force to grant you a Rebirth in a parallel world where your parents are alive.

This is my final message. Farewell.

I lay quietly, watching the bright golden sunlight stream through the glass and rest softly on the back of my hand.

My mother was still weeping uncontrollably, while my father stood at the door, eyes red, stubbornly grumbling, “What are you crying for? Our girl is awake. That’s a blessing.”

A faint smile touched my lips.

3 days later, I was discharged from the hospital.

The sun shone brightly, the breeze was gentle, and steam drifted from a roadside breakfast

cart.

My mother walked ahead, endlessly chatting about the nutritious broth she was going to cook for me at home.

My father walked behind us, complaining that she nagged too much, yet he never lagged behind a single step.

I walked between them, linking one arm in my mother’s and the other in my father’s.

Ahead lay a long road, lined with lush green trees beneath a clear blue sky.

This time, I wanted nothing more than to be an ordinary girl and live a peaceful life.

I wanted to grow old until my hair turned snow–white and my teeth fell out, still able to hold my parents‘ arms and enjoy a warm bowl of wonton soup at a street corner.

That would be more than enough.