Their Four-Person Test, My Unopened Parachute Chapter 10

Late that night, Damian burst into the police station, covered in blood.

“Where is Avery?! Give Avery back to me!”

The chief medical examiner came out, his face grim.

“Mr. Moretti, the final DNA comparison confirms the victim is Avery Quinn. No doubt about it.”

“Death was caused by a high-altitude fall – multiple organ rupture and a crushed skull. She died on impact.”

“You can’t go in there right now. You’d destroy evidence.”

“Get out of my way!”

The lawyer hurried forward. “We won’t obstruct the investigation. The Moretti family will cover every

expense. We’re only asking for one private farewell.”

In the end, the police agreed.

In the cold storage room, white mist slowly cleared.

Avery lay still on the table, covered in a white sheet. Her body had gone stiff and cold in the freezing air.

Damian’s hands shook as he pulled the dark-green velvet box from his chest pocket.

“Avery, look – I got the ring back.”

He carefully took out the pink diamond and brought it close to my hand.

“You said all you ever wanted was a home.”

“So let’s get married, okay? I’ll put it on you right now. From now on, everything of the Moretti family is yours. I’ll listen to you about everything…”

He tried to slide the ring onto my finger.

But the moment the band touched my fingertip, it slipped right off.

Too big.

This ring had been custom-made to Celeste’s finger size.

Celeste had grown up pampered, her knuckles smooth and plump.

I’d spent years toiling through life, my hands thin and delicate.

Damian had mocked me in front of everyone once.

“Avery, your hands are like chicken claws. Rings look tacky on you. Nothing like Celeste’s beautiful hands.”

Only now did he realize: My hands weren’t too big. He’d just never once bothered to look at them.

“Why won’t it fit… why?!”

Damian grabbed the ring and tried again and again.

And again and again, it slipped off.

“Mr. Moretti! Stop!”

The detectives and the examiner rushed over and pulled him away together.

The police had finished their forensic work. The body was about to be transferred to the funeral home.

Avery had no other living immediate family. Under normal state law, a fiancé held no legal authority over her

remains.

But the coroner granted special discretionary permission, considering their fiveyear longterm relationship, allowing Damian to oversee her funeral arrangements as the only interested party.

“Nobody is cremating her!”

He fought desperately.

“She’s my fiancée! I’m taking her home!”

But this time, nobody listened to him.

The wishes of the dead always come first.

The next morning.

The crematorium’s furnace lit up red.

As the cart slowly entered the chamber, Damian suddenly broke free of the bodyguards and lunged to the

observation window.

The searinghot metal door singed his palms.

But he didn’t seem to feel it. He just stared at the flames inside, eyes fixed.

“Avery!!”

The fire consumed everything.

It took my broken body. It took the baby who never got the chance to be born. And it took five years of my clinging love and pain.

I hovered above the cremation room.

Watching the furnace door close slowly, the last shred of my attachment quietly faded away.