I lifted my eyes to the man standing in front of me. The concern in his gaze looked genuine, identical to every single day of the past month.

I lowered my eyes, afraid he'd see through me.

"It's nothing. I was just thinking about Marilyn. She's so little. What's going to happen to her?"

Thaddeus let out a breath of relief and carefully helped me up from the floor.

"It's going to be okay, Albie. Medical technology is advancing so fast these days. There'll be a way. I'll find a matching kidney and heart for you and Marilyn. You two are my everything."

"And even if I can't find them, it's fine. I'll protect you both for the rest of my life. I'll be your shelter. I'll be the one you lean on."

Listening to him, a bitter laugh echoed silently inside me.

If I hadn't just overheard that conversation with his secretary, I would have believed every single word.

But now, all that was left in my heart was hatred. A hatred so vast it could swallow the sky.

"Let's go to sleep, Thaddeus. I'm tired. Don't wake Marilyn."

He didn't suspect a thing.

"Okay. Let's sleep."

A long while later, his voice drifted through the darkness, murmuring in his sleep.

"Monica... Monica..."

I swallowed the sourness burning in my throat, slipped out of bed, and made my way downstairs to the study.

Earlier, while Thaddeus was on the phone with his secretary, his gaze had kept drifting tenderly toward a wooden box on the desk.

I'd rarely set foot in his study before. That box, I had never once opened.

But instinct told me it held the answers I was looking for.

The moment I lifted the lid, the tears I'd held back all night finally broke free.

Inside was a thick stack of letters. The handwriting evolved from the clumsy scrawl of a child to the neat strokes of a student to the bold, confident sweep of a grown man.

Every word, every line was proof that Thaddeus had loved Monica Mason.

"A girl came to the house today. Mom said she's only seven. She's so pretty, like a little princess."

"Monica started middle school. She seems taller again. She follows me around all day calling me 'big brother,' but I don't want to be her brother."

"Monica turned eighteen. I can finally tell her how I feel. But she only seems to see me as a brother."

"Monica got married today. She looked so beautiful in her wedding dress. Just as beautiful as the day she was seven."