Chapter 8

The wedding was lively, filled with notable elites and socialites who came to celebrate. Dressed in a voluminous, grand wedding gown, Evangeline leaned happily into Murphy's embrace.

Murphy wore a sleek black suit that day.

"Uncle Murphy looks so handsome," Gemma thought. He was mature, composed, and exuded an air of elegance, seemingly untouched by time.

Thirteen years had passed, yet he looked just as he did when he carried her out of the wardrobe—still so handsome and dashing.

Her gaze lingered on him, and she was unable to look away. She watched him with a quiet longing for several moments before finally stepping forward to present the wedding gift she had prepared.

"Uncle Murphy, congratulations on your marriage," she said sincerely. She truly wished him happiness and peace in the future.

Murphy accepted the gift and took a deep look at Gemma. He did not say a word, but something unspoken stirred within his eyes. It was an emotion he could not allow to surface, and he left it to roil beneath his composed exterior.

However, Gemma did not notice it.

After giving her gift, she slipped quietly away from the wedding.

She was a coward. She simply did not have the courage to witness her Uncle Murphy marrying Evangeline with her own eyes.

She was sorry, but she was not strong enough for that. She truly wished Uncle Murphy well, but she could never bring herself to accept Evangeline.

After leaving the wedding, Gemma went to the cemetery to lay one final bouquet of flowers on her parents' graves.

"Mom, I think I finally understand why you chose to end your life," she murmured softly.

"Being alive is so painful. But why didn't you take me with you? You hated Dad so much, but you took him with you. You always said you loved me the most, yet you left me here alone."

The world felt so vast, yet she had never felt more alone.

It seemed as though no one had ever truly chosen her, loved her unwaveringly, or refused to abandon her—not even her mother.

"Well, it doesn't matter. You didn't love me that much, and as my foster father, Uncle Murphy has already done more than enough. If you're watching over me from above, don't bless me. Bless him instead."

With that, Gemma leaned down and kissed her parents' tombstones before turning to leave.

She went to a restaurant alone and waited patiently for Murphy to join her for her final birthday.

In the distance, fireworks lit up the sky. Even from so far away, she could clearly see the words sparkling in the explosions: "Congratulations, Murphy and Evangeline on your wedding!"

Daytime fireworks. How extravagant.

It was extravagant but romantic. Murphy was truly the kind of man who would shower the woman he loved with the utmost adoration.

It was just unfortunate that the woman he loved… would never be her.

Time passed slowly. The wedding remained lively in the distance, and even in the restaurant, people were enthusiastically discussing it.

They talked about how Evangeline's wedding dress was worth millions as it was adorned with real diamonds and how Murphy adored her so much that he spent a fortune hiring her favorite singer to perform at the ceremony.

Gemma listened quietly. The world was so noisy, yet she sat here all alone in silence and solitude.

Finally, it was 3:00 pm. "Uncle Murphy should be coming soon, right?" she thought to herself.

At 4:00 pm, the agreed-upon time had arrived, but there was still no sign of him. Maybe something had delayed him?

At 5:00 pm, the wedding had long since ended, and even the chatter about it in the restaurant had faded. Gemma still waited, but Murphy never appeared.

Her phone vibrated suddenly, displaying a notification. It was a post from Evangeline's social media: [The wedding is over, and the honeymoon begins. First stop: Prudenz. We'll be leaving now!]

Beneath the caption was a photo of two overlapping plane tickets. The top ticket was Evangeline's, and there was no doubt who the bottom ticket belonged to.

The flight was scheduled to depart at 5:30 pm.

At that moment, Gemma finally understood—Murphy was not coming.

The cake on the table had already started to melt. Gemma picked it up and, like a soulless puppet, mechanically brought a piece to her mouth.

Why was the frosting salty? It did not taste good at all…

She forced herself to finish the entire thing, paid the bill, and walked out of the restaurant.

"Gemma, unhappy birthday to you. May you find peace in death."

Those were the birthday wishes she gave herself.

She drove to the cryogenic experiment facility. Inside, the staff were already in position, waiting for her arrival.

Her birthday had gone uncelebrated, but at least there were people present to see her off into death—even if they were strangers.

Gemma thought for a moment, then pulled a letter from her bag and handed it to Andre.

"If someone comes looking for me, give them this letter. If no one does… just throw it away."

It was not anything important anyway.

Andre accepted the letter. "I'll take care of it."

With that, Gemma turned and walked step by step toward the casket that awaited her. She climbed inside, just as she used to hide in the wardrobe whenever her parents fought. The confined space of the wardrobe had made her feel safe.

The world was so vast, so complicated. She simply could not handle it.

So, she chose to return to her "wardrobe".

"All systems ready. Begin cooling!"

At Andre's command, the cold began to envelop her. In an instant, Gemma lost consciousness.

"Goodbye, Uncle Murphy. I wish you a happy marriage."