Fatal Blades

The day before I married Aron,

I drank tea with apple juice added to it, and my entire body broke out in sores, sending me to the hospital.

Before I left, Aron told me to wait for him to come back, but he secretly married Grace instead.

He said he would send those who hurt me to hell,

But I remembered that the only person who knew about my apple juice allergy was Aron.

...

Five years later, my son was kidnapped. When they found him, he was so badly beaten that he was unrecognizable.

While performing the autopsy on my son, I discovered a special plum blossom mark.

I recognized it immediately. The Plum Blossom No. 32, the only one of its kind in the world.

I had made it specifically for Aron, and this very knife

had become the fatal blow that killed my son.

Swallowing my pain, I turned and made a call.

"77, request to rejoin the team."

"I will handle everything here."

"Please help me find the Plum Blossom No. 32."

"Received."

After hanging up, I looked at my son’s mangled body on the autopsy table. If not for the birthmark on his chest, I would have never accepted it.

The lively son who used to be full of energy in front of me was now just a corpse.

Looking at the wounds on his body, it was clear he had endured at least five hours of torture.

And the final fatal wound, a piercing injury in the chest,

was made by the Plum Blossom No. 32, which I personally designed. It was the only one in the world,

and I had only given it to Aron on our engagement day.

This knife, however, became the weapon that killed my son.

Tears involuntarily welled up in my eyes as I clenched my fists, determined to find the truth.

...

By the time I left the autopsy room, it was almost 8 PM. Aron sent me a message saying he would be at a meeting and wouldn’t come home.

But when I was working the late shift, I saw his car outside the clinic.

Aron was holding a little boy in his arms, holding Grace’s hand, walking out slowly, looking like a perfect family of three.

The little boy was even swinging Aron’s arm and calling him "Dad."

“Dad, Sapphrine’s birthday is coming up, just like last year.”

“How about a thousand toy airplanes?”

Aron looked at the little boy and smiled gently, “Okay.”

My heart sank. This kind of tenderness had never been shown to my son, troy.

Aron’s usual behavior toward troy was cold and indifferent.

Every year on troy’s birthday, he would come up with all kinds of excuses not to show up.

A thousand toy airplanes seemed extravagant, but for my troy, even a simple "Happy Birthday" was a luxury.

Grace affectionately called out to Aron, "Aron, thank you so much."

“If it weren’t for you, I don’t know what we’d do about troy’s heart failure.”

Aron caressed Grace’s face, "To repay a debt of gratitude, everything is worth it."

This warm moment was interrupted by my unexpected arrival.

When Aron saw me stepping out of the car, his hand froze for a moment, then quickly retracted.

“What are you doing here?!”

The little boy beside him curiously asked, “Dad, who is this auntie?”

Grace quickly pulled the child behind her, “The child doesn’t know any better.”

“He was just playing around.” Her face showed an apologetic expression, but her eyes gleamed with smug satisfaction.

I coldly watched them in silence.

The child, startled by Grace’s tug, began to cry. Aron immediately crouched down to comfort him.

He then stood up, looking at me with frustration, “Vivian, what are you doing? You scared the child.”

“Stay away from the child. Isn’t it unlucky to be around death all the time?”

“Apologize to the child now.”

My heart skipped a beat. Aron had always supported my forensic work, but now he was complaining about my "bad luck."

When did his admiration for me turn into disdain?

I didn’t want to think about it, so I walked past them toward the inside.

Behind me, Aron anxiously called out to me, “You!”

Grace then clung to him, “Vivian is upset, it’s all my fault.”

“She just loves to throw tantrums.”