Chapter 3He Spared My Parents’ Killer

The classic, elegant mahogany study had been desecrated. It was now a nauseatingly pink princess room.

Jillian was sitting cross-legged on a brand-new canopy bed. And in her hands, she was holding my mother's original, handwritten autopsy journals!

Just then, Richard walked in, a bright smile on his face. "Sylvia, you finally came to your senses! Don't worry, I am covering all of Jillian's expenses..."

I cut him off, screaming at the top of my lungs. "Where are my parents' belongings? What did you do to the things in this room!"

Seeing my explosive anger, his smile vanished, replaced by an annoyed scowl.

"They were just some old things. I told the housekeeper to box them up and shove them in the basement storage."

"Old things?" I was shaking so violently I could barely stand. "Richard, those were my parents' final possessions! Who gave you the right to touch this room!"

"Sylvia, calm down." Richard grabbed my arm and pulled me to the side, lowering his voice. "It was Jillian. She said she wanted to study medicine so she could become a doctor just like your mother and atone for her father's crimes. Your mother's journals are incredibly useful to her."

I stared at him, refusing to believe what I was hearing.

"So, you just let her defile my mother's life's work?"

"She is just using it to study." He spoke with absolute entitlement. "You are already a top forensic pathologist. That basic theory is useless to you now. But to Jillian, it could change her entire future. Sylvia, if your mother is watching from above, she would want her hard work to guide a young mind, right? Just look at it as doing a good deed."

A good deed!

There it was again. His favorite weapon.

He always did this. He would stand on his little moral pedestal, arbitrarily deciding what was "useless" to me, and then gaslight me for being unreasonable and unaccommodating.

I lunged forward and ripped the notebook right out of Jillian's hands. The pages were covered in neon highlighter and senseless, colorful doodles.

"Is this her version of studying?"

Jillian immediately shrank back, her eyes brimming with fresh tears. "I have always studied like that. Color coding helps me memorize things..."

Richard looked completely unbothered. "She just made some annotations. Didn't you highlight your books in college?"

I looked at him, and suddenly, I just felt bone-deep exhaustion.

I wiped the stray tears from the corners of my eyes, walked straight down to the dusty basement, and dragged every single box of my parents' things out.

But as I packed my car, I realized something critical was missing.

I marched back into the house and stood directly in front of Richard. My voice was terrifyingly calm.

"Richard. The joint account we set up for our wedding. Did you touch it?"

Richard's face tightened. His eyes darted away from mine.

"Jillian's tuition and living expenses required an upfront deposit. I just... temporarily reallocated the funds."

"Reallocated?" A miserable, hollow laugh escaped my lips. "Richard, five minutes ago you were bragging about paying for her expenses out of your own pocket. That account held three hundred thousand dollars of my parents' money meant for my dowry. How did you even have the face to touch it?"

"Sylvia!" My words hit his fragile ego like a bullet, and he lashed out. "Stop obsessing over the money! Why do you always have to be so petty over every little thing? Why can't you just be accommodating and gentle like Jillian?"

"Gentle?" Pushed to the absolute brink of a psychological breakdown, the tears finally spilled over. "So in your twisted mind, treating the daughter of my parents' murderer like a beloved sister, throwing away my mother's legacy, and giving my wedding dowry to pay for her college is what makes a woman gentle and accommodating?"

My interrogation left him completely speechless.

Right on cue, Jillian started her waterworks.

"Sylvia, please don't blame Richard! It is all my fault. I will pay back every cent. I will get a job. Even if I have to sell my own blood, I will pay you back!"

Richard immediately pulled her into his chest, stroking her hair.

"Jillian, don't worry about it. I will handle it."

Then, he lifted his chin and glared at me with pure disdain.

"Sylvia, you are behaving worse than a nineteen-year-old girl who just lost her father."

"I know the money was your dowry. Once we are officially married, I will surrender my entire paycheck to you every month as compensation."

"But I have one non-negotiable condition. You have to make peace with Jillian and let her stay!"

Hot tears mixed with a bitter, self-deprecating smile on my face.

He was treating our marriage like a charitable donation, using his mediocre salary as leverage in a hostage negotiation.

And all of it was for Jillian.

It was utterly pathetic.

The man who once swore on his life to protect me forever, to never let me suffer a single injustice, had mutated into a monster I didn't even recognize.

Since the rot was this deep, nothing else he said mattered.

"Richard, we are completely, utterly done."