By the time she arrived at the cemetery, drenched and gasping, she saw two figures not far away. Soren was kneeling on one knee, tying an immortal knot bracelet on Agatha’s wrist. His voice was gentle. “Sister, I’ve brought the person I love to see you. Her name is Agatha—she’s the most beautiful and kind girl in the world. Six years ago, in that car accident, she risked her life to donate 1,000cc of blood for me… if it weren’t for her, I’d be dead. Sister, I’ll treat Agatha well forever. Please bless us from heaven.”
Linnea froze, the pain she had been forcing down now roaring back—her chest felt like it was burning to ash.
Six years ago, when they were most in love, Soren had been in that accident while buying her a red velvet cake. Critically injured, he needed blood—his rare type. It had been the pregnant Linnea who rushed to the hospital and donated all 1,000cc. She went into shock and lost the baby. She’d even told the doctor not to tell him, afraid he’d blame himself. And yet, somehow, Agatha became the “savior” in his memory.
Even if she told him the truth now, he would only mock her.
Soren strode over, cold fingers clamping her arm. “Kneel.”