Chapter 5 Five

A single sheet of white paper lay on the coffee table. Emelie's apartment was in chaos. Suitcases lined the edge of the sofa, and several cardboard boxes filled with her belongings were stacked neatly near the front door.

Emelie had officially been evicted.

It wasn't surprising when the eviction notice arrived last night. The new owner would be moving in soon. Emelie could only laugh bitterly, realizing how foolish she had been to place her full trust in her fiancé. Or rather-her ex-fiancé. Look at what he left her with. Emelie truly believed that the apartment they had shared was bought for her. In reality, Matthew had only rented it for a few months.

"Don't cry, Emelie. It's okay. You can still find a small place to stay for a few days," she whispered to herself, trying to stay strong as her eyes scanned the remaining balance in her bank account.

She lifted her head, fighting the tears threatening to fall again. Her feet carried her toward the pantry. Emelie opened the fridge and pulled out the last few remaining ingredients.

"At the very least, feed yourself-even if your heart is breaking," she said quietly while washing vegetables and beginning to prepare lunch.

She ate a simple meal-bacon with soft-boiled eggs, salad, and a glass of leftover orange juice. Silence filled the room, broken only by the gentle clinking of cutlery against the glass plate.

She brought one bite after another to her lips until she reached the last piece of bacon. Her hands paused. Suddenly, Matthew's image appeared before her-smiling, leaning in, and opening his mouth playfully.

"I want some too," he said, like he always did when asking for her last bite.

Emelie froze. Matthew had always loved the fatty parts of bacon she avoided for the sake of her diet.

"I love your cooking. I love you, Emelie."

He reached out, wiping the sauce from the corner of her mouth, and kissed her lips softly.

"I love you too, Matthew," Emelie whispered back.

And just like that-he vanished.

Her tears returned. It had only been a hallucination, a cruel trick of her mind. Her heart had loved him too much to recognize the deception all along.

She looked down at the delicate diamond ring still on her finger-a gift from Matthew. Slowly, she slipped it off.

"I'll sell this ring... I have to survive," she murmured. Emelie never liked selling gifts. She valued every small token given to her. But this time, Matthew had left her with no reason to hold on.

Without washing the dishes, she grabbed her bag and coat, hurrying out. Her destination: a jewelry store still open for a few more hours.

She chose to walk-saving what little money she had. The store wasn't exactly nearby, but Emelie pressed on with quiet determination.

After more than forty minutes of walking, her lips curled into a faint smile when she saw the signboard of a jewelry store she had never entered before. Not because she couldn't afford jewelry, but because every penny she had was saved for her wedding. A wedding that would never happen.

The door was opened by a neatly dressed staff member. Emelie stepped inside cautiously, adjusting her glasses for no real reason-just a nervous habit.

"Good afternoon, Miss. How may I help you?"

Emelie nodded and pulled out a small box from her coat pocket. "I'd like to sell this ring."

"Certainly. May I verify its authenticity first?"

"Of course. I'll wait."

The staff began testing the ring with a gold analyzer. After several failed readings, she applied a drop of nitric acid. Right before their eyes, the ring's color dulled into a faded reddish hue. What had looked like white gold with a sparkling diamond... was fake.

"Miss..."

Emelie approached, eyes widening as she saw the discoloration.

"I'm sorry, but this ring is not real."

"That's impossible. I'm sure it's real gold... I've worn it for over a year," she insisted.

"I'm afraid this is the result."

Emelie clenched her fists, swallowing her embarrassment as she took back the counterfeit ring. She left the store in silence, her chest heavy with disappointment.

Everything Matthew gave her was a lie.

As she walked home, Emelie could no longer hold back her frustration. Her grip tightened around the fake ring, and without thinking, she hurled it into the air-without looking, without caring.

She continued walking quickly, refusing to look back.

Elsewhere, a man sat calmly in the back of a sleek black car. Franz had just received his lunch when a small metallic clink landed on the floor mat.

He looked down, spotting something shiny on the car's carpet.

"What's this?" he muttered, reaching for it.

He picked up a small ring, turning it over in his fingers. Inside was a simple engraving-a cursive letter E.

"Was this thrown away, or lost?" Franz whispered to himself. He tucked the ring into his jacket pocket just as the car door opened.

"Sir, your lunch is ready," said Donce, his driver.

"Hm," Franz responded with a soft hum.

The car began to move, but Franz's thoughts stayed behind. Emelie's face wouldn't leave his mind. He had already begun searching for information about her, and what he found weighed heavily on his conscience-an orphan, mistreated at her workplace, and now abandoned.

Something inside Franz stirred: A need to protect her.