When the Flood Took More than Life

It's the summer of 1985. After the floodwaters recede, Phoebe Graham quietly holds a funeral for her daughter, Macey Lane, who has just turned one. From that day on, everyone in the police family compound notices the change in her. In the mornings, she no longer washes Reuben Lane's uniform and hangs it beneath the eaves. At noon, she stops spending two hours simmering rich broths to carry over to his office. At night, she no longer sits beneath the lamp, mending his clothes while anxiously watching the clock for his return. She stops yearning for a quick chat and stops sharing the little details of her day. Even after a car crash leaves her in the hospital needing surgery, she tells the doctor she has no family when they ask for an emergency contact. With blood-stained fingers, she signs her own consent form. She stays in that bed for a week without reaching out to Reuben. On the day she gets discharged, news finally reaches Reuben, and he rushes over to the hospital. Chapter 1 Reuben Lane stood in a crisp, sharp police uniform that made him look even more handsome and dashing. Yet, upon closer inspection, heavy stubble shadowed his jaw, and bloodshot eyes betrayed sheer exhaustion. "You were in a car crash? Why didn't you tell me?" He looked worried, but his tone was reproachful. Then he naturally crouched in front of Phoebe Graham, ready to help her put on her shoes. Phoebe instinctively flinched, dodging his touch. His hands met empty air. Frowning, Reuben looked up and met Phoebe's eyes, which were as calm as stagnant water. "It wasn't a big deal. Your work comes first." Her tone was flat. She slipped on her shoes, stood straight, grabbed her discharge papers, and walked out. As Reuben watched her noticeably slimmer back, a sudden sense of unease gripped his heart. Somehow, Phoebe… felt entirely different. He followed her, watching as she handled the discharge paperwork alone, picked up her medicine at the pharmacy, and walked to the bus stop outside the hospital. He was right there behind her, yet she didn't turn around to cling to him or complain about how late he'd been. She didn't lean into his arms like she used to, run her fingers over his stubble, or remind him to get enough rest and not wear himself out working late. A sudden wave of irritation and unease surged in Reuben's chest. He stepped forward, caught her by the wrist, and pressed his lips together. Lowering his voice, he asked, "Are you mad about the car crash? Or is it because of Macey—" "None of that." Phoebe cut him off. She slowly pulled her wrist free. Her voice was so calm it bordered on cold as she continued, "Reuben, I don't want to bring up the past anymore." Her wrist slipped away again. Impatiently, Reuben reached out to grab her. "Then why are you—" The bus arrived. Without sparing him another glance, Phoebe boarded the bus and moved down the aisle to stand in the middle. Reuben pressed his lips together and followed her inside, squeezing behind her to shield her from the surrounding crowd with his broad frame. As Phoebe looked out the window at the rapidly receding scenery and felt the warmth of Reuben's body at her back, her thoughts drifted back to the first time she met him five years ago. It was during a holiday. She had taken her saved-up money to buy the latest dress at the local department store. As she reached the entrance, someone on the street shouted about a thief. Amidst the chaotic crowd, a man in a police uniform leaped forward, kicked a running man to the ground, and subdued him in seconds. When he looked up, the fierce look in his eyes left Phoebe frozen in place. Back then, she thought this cop was fierce and terrifying, yet his features were firmly etched in her mind. The second time they met, Reuben climbed onto a roof to rescue a trapped child. When he slipped and fell, he kept the child tightly shielded in his arms. His arms were bleeding heavily that day, but he just smiled gently and patted the little girl's head, his eyes shining warmly. Watching from the sidelines, Phoebe felt her heart skip a beat. Their third meeting happened when the dance troupe performed at the police station. She was dancing on stage while Reuben watched her intently from the audience. When their eyes met, her heart raced, and her cheeks burned. After that day, Phoebe learned that Reuben was being set up on blind dates, so she asked her aunt, who worked in the judicial system, to play matchmaker. On the day of their blind date, Reuben sat across from her and said sincerely, "Ms. Graham, my line of work is unique and demanding. I might not be able to give a family the attention it needs. Do you mind?" "I don't mind!" Phoebe answered firmly, her ears red. Reuben nodded. "I'll treat you well." True to his word, he treated her well after they married, but he was constantly busy. Phoebe managed the household chores alone. When the coal briquettes ran out, a lightbulb burned out, or the roof leaked, Reuben could never make it back in time, so she rolled up her sleeves and learned to fix things herself. Reuben was kind-hearted. Whenever his precinct handed out subsidies, he always gave them to neighbors who needed them more. Phoebe supported him without a single complaint. During her month of recovery after giving birth, Reuben was temporarily assigned to a neighboring city to help crack a major case. He only returned after she finished her month of rest. Seeing his bloodshot eyes and unmistakable guilt, she simply swallowed all her emotions and didn't utter a single word of blame. That day, Reuben had held her tight, promising he would carve out more time for his family. Yet, he broke his promise. He grew busier and busier because his precinct assigned him a trainee. A female officer named Emma Cooke always called him "Officer Lane" in a sweet voice, then repeatedly botched her work and caused trouble, forcing Reuben to clean up her messes. And Reuben went from sounding impatient whenever he mentioned her to speaking of her with an unconscious smile and tenderness. Phoebe had cried and fought with him over this, only to be told again and again that she didn't understand him. "Phoebe, she's my comrade, my colleague, my trainee. There is nothing shady between us, and I will never betray you. Stop making a fuss over nothing." Then, half a month ago, a flood hit. As Reuben evacuated the residents, Phoebe and their one-year-old daughter, Macey Lane, were the last ones left behind. She stood on the roof holding Macey, waiting anxiously for rescue. Just as Reuben was rushing toward her, a rescued little boy fell into the water. Emma jumped in to save him but caught a cramp. At that crucial moment, Reuben changed direction to rescue Emma without a shred of hesitation. In that exact fraction of a second, a massive wave struck, washing Phoebe and Macey away. When she finally woke up, Macey had already stopped breathing. Outside, Reuben was comforting a guilt-ridden Emma. "Don't cry. It's not your fault. You bear no responsibility for this. You don't need to feel guilty." At that moment, Phoebe laughed. She laughed until her entire body shook and tears streamed down her face uncontrollably. She sat in silence through the entire night, then slipped the divorce agreement in with Macey's cremation papers for Reuben to sign. On the day of Macey's funeral, Reuben showed up for just a moment before Emma dragged him away again. The moment he left, Phoebe did two things. First, she went to the county courthouse to submit the divorce agreement and apply for a divorce. Second, she applied to her dance troupe for a three-year exchange study program in Marlowe. Once those two things were settled, she would leave Reuben behind for good, walking away from the home she'd lived in for five years. Chapter 2 The bus rumbled and rattled to a stop at the station. All along the way, Reuben tried multiple times to start a conversation with Phoebe, but she shut him down coldly every single time. The moment they got home, she went straight back to her bedroom. Reuben's reaching hand met thin air once again. Irritation spiked in his chest. His gaze swept around the apartment, only to freeze abruptly. In the corner, the dirty clothes he had hastily shed a week ago were still sitting right where he left them. The used water cups and his discarded razor hadn't been washed either. Meanwhile, everything belonging to Phoebe was immaculate and tidy, creating a sharp contrast with his mess. It looked almost like… a line drawn in the sand. A surge of baseless anger swept over him. Reuben pushed open the bedroom door, only to find that the wedding photo Phoebe had always kept spotless was gone. Only the empty frame remained on the wall. Reuben's heart skipped a beat. "Where's our wedding photo?" Seeing Phoebe's icy gaze, he could no longer suppress his anger. "Are you throwing a fit with me? Phoebe, you're not a child anymore. If something is bothering you, say it out loud so we can talk about it." "I'm not throwing a fit," Phoebe replied, as calm as ever. "Reuben, I'm tired. Let's—" End this. Her unspoken words were drowned out by the sudden ringing of the landline. Reuben walked over to pick up the phone. On the other end was Emma's usual frantic voice. "Officer Lane, you need to come now! We need your help with a case! It's urgent…" Phoebe calmly withdrew her gaze. Three seconds later, Reuben hung up the phone and hastily put on his hat. Before stepping out the door, he paused and turned back to look at Phoebe. "If you're tired, get some rest. Once things settle down, I'll take time off to be with you." Phoebe didn't turn around. After Reuben left, she resumed packing away her things. She gathered up everything—the photos she'd once begged Reuben to take with her, the letters he'd sent to reassure her he was safe while away on assignments, and the maple leaves he'd casually given her. Two hours later, Phoebe discovered Reuben's gun left behind at home. She brought it over to the police station. But when she pushed open the door to Reuben's lounge, she found Reuben and Emma leaning against each other on the couch, fast asleep. Emma was curled up in Reuben's arms, her arms and legs wrapped tightly around him. Startled by the sound of the door opening, they both jolted awake immediately. When Reuben spotted Phoebe, a flicker of guilt flashed in his eyes. "Phoebe, don't get the wrong idea. We were discussing the case and accidentally drifted off—" "I know." Phoebe placed the gun on the table, turned around, and walked away. Reuben stared at her retreating back, shocked. In the past, whenever she saw him get even slightly close to Emma, she would look hurt—even if she didn't throw a scene on the spot— and her eyes would be red-rimmed. Yet today, she was extraordinarily calm. So calm that it made his chest tighten with dread. Reuben abruptly grabbed her wrist to pull her back. He glared down at her, his voice heavy with suppressed anxiety. "Why aren't you angry?" Phoebe smiled faintly. "You're comrades. She's just your trainee. I get it." Her indifferent smile was particularly grating to Reuben. Overwhelmed with frustration, he was about to explain further when a sudden gasp came from Emma, who had just stepped away. Reuben's expression shifted, and he instantly let go of Phoebe's wrist to rush over. Phoebe rubbed her reddened wrist. From the adjacent room, she heard Emma's apologetic voice. "I'm so sorry, Officer Lane. I just wanted to help change the lightbulb. I didn't expect to lose my footing." "It's fine," Reuben replied gently. "A young woman like you isn't meant for heavy chores. Let me handle it." Phoebe paused mid-step. Her mind suddenly drifted back to the raw, chafed skin on her shoulders from carrying heavy coal briquettes, to the terrifying moments when she nearly got shocked changing lightbulbs, and the near-falls while patching up the leaky roof. The corners of her mouth twitched into a bitter smile before she turned to walk away. Passing by the adjacent room, Phoebe caught sight of Reuben standing on a stool changing the lightbulb while Emma stood below, steadying his legs with both hands. Hearing the footsteps, Emma turned around. Her lips brushed past a sensitive spot near Reuben's inner thigh, and she flashed Phoebe a provocative smirk. On top of the stool, Reuben's entire body visibly stiffened, yet he made no move to push her away. Phoebe remained expressionless, turned around, and walked out. Not long after leaving the police station, Phoebe keenly sensed subtle footsteps tailing her from behind. Her chest tightened. Just as she braced to dash toward a busier street, a hard blow struck the back of her head. A searing surge of pain ripped through her skull, and she blacked out completely. When she woke up, she found herself tied to a chair inside a dilapidated old house, her mouth gagged. A sinister-looking man holding a knife sneered with vicious delight. "You're finally awake." The moment Phoebe saw his face, she suddenly remembered the newspaper article she'd read. He was Frederick Hall, a convicted criminal Reuben had once sent behind bars! Frederick pressed the blade against Phoebe's cheek, his eyes gleaming with fury. "Reuben tore my family apart. I'll kill you today so he gets a taste of what it feels like to lose everything!" With that, he raised the knife high and aimed it at Phoebe's chest. Gagged and helpless, Phoebe couldn't even scream. She could only watch in terror as the gleaming blade lurched closer and closer. Right at that split second, the old wooden door was kicked wide open. Reuben burst inside with Emma right behind him. "Phoebe!" Chapter 3 Frederick's blade instantly pressed flat against Phoebe's neck. Reuben leveled his gun straight at Frederick's head, his eyes brimming with lethal coldness and rage. "Let her go!" Frederick let out an arrogant laugh. As he applied pressure with his hand, a line of fresh blood trickled down Phoebe's fair neck. "Reuben, pull the trigger if you have the nerve! Even if I die, I'm taking her down with me! I want you to feel the agonizing pain of losing everything!" Phoebe's face went pale with pain, cold sweat trickling down her cheeks. But she gritted her teeth and lowered her eyes, refusing to show even the slightest sign of weakness. Reuben's gaze turned icy and sharp. "Let her go. Name your conditions." "Put your guns down, and then…" Frederick smiled with sadistic malice. "Reuben, I want you to get on your knees and beg me!" Reuben pressed his lips together, his grip tightening around the gun until, at last, he slowly lowered it. His voice was hoarse as he said, "Fine." Phoebe's eyelashes fluttered as she looked up at him in disbelief. She watched as he tossed the gun to the ground, took two steps forward, and began to bend his knees. Right at that split second, Emma stepped forward and shouted, "Officer Lane, don't kneel!" She fired a shot toward Frederick, but the bullet only grazed his arm, embedding itself into the wall behind him. Fury flared in Frederick's eyes at once. He swung his knife and plunged it violently into Phoebe over and over again. Blood spattered out, and the excruciating pain sent darkness crashing over Phoebe's vision. Before blacking out, all she caught was the blur of Reuben charging forward to tackle Frederick. … When she woke up again, she was in a hospital bed. The knife wounds pierced deep into her lung, turning every breath into a stabbing torture. Emma sat on the edge of the bed, watching her suffer with a malicious gleam in her eyes. "Phoebe, you're one tough woman to kill. I can't believe you survived that." Phoebe ignored her. "Back in that broken house today, did you actually think Reuben did all that because he loves you?" Emma's voice reeked of mockery. "You're wrong. If it were any other hostage held at knifepoint today, he would've done the exact same thing to save a life." Phoebe's eyelashes trembled slightly because she knew Emma was right. Even if Frederick had taken a complete stranger hostage today, Reuben would still have made the exact same choice to save them. To him, she had never been special. Emma preened with triumph. "In the year since I joined the department, the chicken soup Reuben had you make was for me. The fabric you'd been saving up? He used it to buy me a dress. And the money you'd been putting aside for sweets? He spent it on my favorite caramel candies. "Phoebe, stop clinging to him like a leech. Now that even the daughter holding you two together is dead, what do you have left to compete with me?" Phoebe's eyes turned ice-cold instantly. Emma suddenly leaned in close to her ear. "The day of the flood, I didn't get a cramp at all. And that shot yesterday? I missed on purpose." A loud ring exploded in Phoebe's head, leaving her mind completely blank. What happened that day wasn't an accident after all. Emma had deliberately stalled Reuben from rescuing them! Emma had plotted to kill Macey! Right then, Emma whispered right into her ear, "Even if nothing happened during the flood, I would've found another way to send her straight to hell." At that moment, the final thread of Phoebe's sanity snapped. Summoning every ounce of her strength, she delivered a thunderous slap across Emma's face. "Emma, a cruel monster like you isn't worthy of wearing that uniform!" The blow snapped Emma's head to the side, and blood trickled from the corner of her mouth. A venomous glint flashed in her eyes. She grabbed the hot water thermos off the nightstand, unscrewed the cap, and prepared to douse Phoebe with it. Just then, footsteps sounded outside the door. Emma's eyes darted, and she suddenly poured the water over her own hand. She shrieked in agony and dropped the thermos on the floor. Reuben pushed open the door and found hot water spilled across the floor. Emma's hand was bright red, and her cheek was swollen and flushed. "What happened here?" he demanded, his interrogative gaze locking straight onto Phoebe. Chapter 4 Phoebe felt a sharp jab straight through her heart. Emma tucked her hand behind her back. "It's alright, Officer Lane. Mrs. Lane is just upset. My skin is tough. It's really no big deal." "Explain!" Reuben fixed his gaze on Phoebe, his eyes burning with restrained anger. He didn't even bother to ask her for her side of the story, instantly believing Emma's word and assuming Phoebe was the villain. Phoebe stared directly into his eyes. "Reuben, if I told you that Emma didn't have a cramp at all during the flood and that she deliberately pulled her shot yesterday, would you believe me?" "Phoebe," Reuben growled, his fists balling up so tight his knuckles turned white. "If you're going to make up excuses, at least make them believable!" His eyes were filled with bitter disappointment. "I know you've been angry with me over Macey, but that's no excuse for you to take it out on others, frame them, and harm them!" He didn't believe her. Staring at the man standing firm to shield Emma behind his back, Phoebe suddenly felt an overwhelming wave of exhaustion. She didn't want to waste her breath arguing with him anymore. Closing her eyes, she tuned him out completely. The more Reuben saw her stubbornly refusing to admit fault or even speak to him, the angrier he became. Yet, catching sight of her deathly pale complexion and hollow cheeks, he forced himself to swallow back his rage. His voice turned cold and rigid. "Focus on recovering over the next few days. Once you're healed up, you're going to apologize to Emma!" With that, he gently took Emma's reddened hand. "Come on. I'll help you put some ointment on that." Watching their departing backs, Phoebe felt no heartbreak, only a deep, numbing emptiness. … Over the next few days, she recovered in the hospital all by herself. On the day she was discharged, she went home and called the police, laying out the whole truth behind the flood and the abduction. "Officer Cooke's grave negligence on the job led to catastrophic consequences. I demand that appropriate disciplinary actions be taken against her." The voice on the other end turned solemn. "Understood. We will verify this as quickly as possible." An hour later, the house phone rang. Phoebe picked it up, only to hear Emma's hushed, smug voice on the line. "Phoebe, did you really think reporting me would work? Reuben will protect me! Don't believe me? Listen." The next second, Phoebe heard Reuben's distant voice over the receiver. "Phoebe is my wife. I'll go home and persuade her to drop the complaint." A stern, middle-aged male voice cut in, "Emma's conduct at work has indeed been sloppy. Her performance hasn't met basic standards ever since she joined. Serious disciplinary action must be taken! The board has deliberated, and the decision is to dismiss Emma—" "No!" Reuben's voice was frantic. "I don't agree! Chief, Emma is my trainee. If she screwed up, I will take the punishment in her place!" After a brief pause, the middle-aged man spoke up again. "Reuben, if you take the fall for her, you won't just have to write a public letter of apology for display, but you'll also face a demotion. Think this through!" "I've thought it through!" Reuben replied without a moment's hesitation. "I'll do it!" Phoebe slammed the receiver back onto the hook. She sat motionless in the living room for a long time, only to realize her cheeks were wet. Those tears weren't for Reuben but for herself and Macey. She suddenly rose, gathered the keepsakes she and Reuben had shared, along with the wooden rocking horse and toys he'd made for Macey, and set them all on fire in the yard. The front gate was suddenly shoved open, and Reuben appeared, his face red with rage. "Why did you report Emma? Do you have any idea that doing this will ruin her entire life?" Framed by the flickering flames, Phoebe turned around calmly. "If she didn't do anything wrong, how could my report even go through? Besides, didn't you already smooth it all out for her?" She spoke with complete, icy detachment. Staring at her, Reuben suddenly felt that Phoebe had become a complete stranger. The unsettling sense of dread from days ago surged back once again. Frowning, Reuben softened her tone. "I know you're still upset, but Emma didn't mean any harm. Phoebe, let's just put this behind us. And please, don't make a scene like this again, okay?" Phoebe took a long, deep look at him, then nodded. "Okay." From now on, she would never throw a tantrum with him again because there was no future between them. Phoebe turned and walked back into her room. Reuben stared at the pile of ashes on the ground, frowning. What had she burned? Reuben opened his mouth to ask, but the phone rang once more. Two homicides had just broken out in the city back-to-back. With the situation critical, he had no choice but to rush out again. After Reuben left, Phoebe received a call from Zoe Lawrence, the troupe director. "Phoebe, your placement for the study program in Marlowe has been approved! Start preparing. You'll be setting off in about a week." Phoebe gripped the receiver tightly, her tone bright with excitement. "Got it! I'll leave on time!" Chapter 5 The next afternoon, during her lunch break, Phoebe headed to the department store to buy some daily necessities for her trip to Marlowe. Halfway through browsing, she suddenly spotted Reuben accompanying Emma in the women's clothing section. Emma was trying on a striking red dress, and Reuben's eyes were filled with appreciation. She averted her gaze and prepared to leave, but Emma's sharp eyes caught sight of her. "Mrs. Lane!" Reuben looked over at her with a flicker of guilt in his eyes, but he still stepped forward quickly and pulled her over. Emma twirled in front of Phoebe, her eyes packed with provocation and malice. "Reuben picked this red dress for me. Isn't it pretty?" Reuben hurried to speak. "Phoebe, this is—" "No need to explain." Phoebe cut him off. "I don't care. I have errands to run, so excuse me." Just as she turned to leave, a cracking sound echoed directly above their heads. Phoebe looked up just in time to see a loose, weathered wooden beam break free from the ceiling and come crashing down toward the three of them. "Watch out!" Amidst the screams of the crowd, Reuben shoved Phoebe away. The very next second, he threw himself over Emma, shielding her with his body. The heavy beam slammed right into his back, drawing an agonized grunt from him as blood seeped from the corner of his mouth. Phoebe lay on the ground, her arms and legs badly scraped. She turned to look at what had happened. Surrounding shoppers rushed over in panic to lift the beam off him. Emma sobbed hysterically while cupping Reuben's face, her lips moving frantically as she babbled. And Reuben, despite dripping cold sweat from the excruciating pain, managed to squeeze out a smile for her. He even used his thumb to gently wipe away the tears at the corners of her eyes. Phoebe's lips curled into a faint smile. The whole scene before her seemed like some ridiculous silent pantomime. It was extremely absurd. Enduring the searing pain across her body, she pushed herself up, turned around, and limped out of the department store. As if sensing something, Reuben turned around, only to catch a glimpse of Phoebe's solitary back as she walked away. "Phoebe," he called out to her, but she didn't look back once. Phoebe returned home and fetched the first-aid kit to dress her wounds. The rubbing alcohol stung against her raw scrapes, making her shudder uncontrollably, yet she bit her lip and didn't shed a single tear. … Over the next two days, she focused entirely on getting ready to leave. On the third day, she received a phone call from Reuben's colleague, placed from the hospital reception desk. "Mrs. Lane… Reuben got hurt pretty badly. He's been admitted to the hospital these past few days. He keeps calling out your name and saying he misses your homemade chicken soup. Could you come by the hospital to visit him?" "I can't." "W-What?" The voice on the other end sounded dumbfounded. In the past, whenever Reuben got hurt, Phoebe would drop all her work and household chores to rush to the hospital, staying by his side 24/7 without sleep. Yet now, Phoebe's voice was crisp and clear, without the slightest pause. "I have things to take care of. Bye" That afternoon, Reuben showed up at home. His face was deathly pale as he hurried straight to the bedroom to find Phoebe. "Are you… angry with me for saving Emma?" "I'm not." Phoebe was packing her clothes. She didn't even bother to look up. Reuben stepped up to her and took hold of her wrist. "Then why didn't you come to the hospital to visit me? You always came to see me whenever I was hurt before." He softened his tone. "Phoebe, I really miss your chicken soup." Phoebe finally looked at him. "I'm in no condition to cook." She rolled up her sleeves, revealing large patches of raw scrapes across her palms, wrists, and arms. Reuben's heart sank. He pulled her gently. "I'll take you to the hospital to get those bandaged up." Just then, a sharp knock echoed at the front door. "Officer Lane, are you in?" Reuben instinctively glanced at Phoebe. Without any expression, she brushed off his hand and went straight to open the door. Emma shot her a provocative look, bumping past her shoulder as she barged right in. "Officer Lane, there's a new lead on the case we've been working on! Come take a look!" For the next while, the two sat on the living room couch, discussing the case in quiet huddles. Not wanting to look at them, Phoebe simply went back to her bedroom. Before long, a loud bang rattled her bedroom door. The moment Phoebe pulled it open, a powerful force yanked her out. She looked up and met Reuben's eyes, which were burning with blinding fury. "Phoebe, if you're upset, come at me! Why do you keep targeting Emma, even going so far as to burn the case files? Do you have any idea how important this case is?" Chapter 6 Phoebe frowned. "What are you talking about?" Emma rushed over. A bright red handprint marked her cheek, and tears glistened in her eyes. "Mrs. Lane, why did you burn the files while Officer Lane was in the restroom? Do you have any idea how hard he worked on this case? "He was constantly searching for clues! He didn't even rest while he was in the hospital! That case file contained the suspect's composite sketch! Do you realize how critical that evidence was?" "I didn't do it," Phoebe replied, her gaze icy cold. "Emma, I stayed in my room the entire time and never came out. You're framing me—" "Are you saying Emma burned the case file herself just to frame you?" Reuben's tone was frigid, his eyes dripping with bitter disappointment. "Do you have any idea how much effort Emma has put into this case? She pulled all-nighters at the station for days just to catch the suspect as soon as possible! "Phoebe, I know you've always resented Emma's presence, and I know you blame me for what happened to Macey. But you shouldn't turn public safety into a personal joke!" Phoebe froze for a moment before looking up at him, her gaze sharp with hostility. Her lips curled into a cold smile. "What do you want me to do?" Reuben flinched at her sharp gaze, but the very next second, his anger flared even hotter. "Since you still refuse to show a shred of remorse, you can spend the next two days in the cellar reflecting on what you've done." "You're locking me up?" Phoebe demanded, her eyes red-rimmed. "Reuben, you haven't even uncovered the truth! What right do you have to lock me away?" "You don't get a say." Reuben grabbed her wrist, shoved her into the cellar, and slammed the door shut. His voice, laced with lingering anger, boomed through the thick door. "Reflect on your actions in there! You come out when you realize your mistake!" Staring at the tightly closed door, Phoebe suddenly burst into wild laughter. As she laughed, tears streamed down her face, carrying a mixture of desolate heartbreak and quiet relief. … Phoebe was locked away for two days. On the first day, Emma opened the cellar door, holding a lunchbox. She dumped the food straight onto the floor. On the second day, Emma opened the cellar door and tossed in a bag. Several rats scurried out. As the frantic squeak echoed in the pitch-black room, Phoebe finally lost her composure. She crawled to the cellar door and pounded on it madly. "Let me out! Reuben! Let me out!" After an agonizing stretch of time, the door was finally pulled open. As Reuben looked down at the utterly disheveled Phoebe, a flicker of shock flashed across his eyes. Before he could ask anything, Phoebe fainted from hunger and sheer terror. When she woke up, Reuben was sitting by the bedside. Seeing her open her eyes, he helped her sit up against the headboard and brought over a bowl of warm soup. "Eat something first." Phoebe remained silent, her face completely expressionless as she swallowed the soup from the spoon he fed her. After finishing the bowl, Reuben produced a red dress. "Phoebe, today is your birthday. I took time off from work so I could take you out for dinner and celebrate your birthday with you." Phoebe looked up, her gaze distant and detached. "I'm not going." In their five years of marriage, he had never spent a single wedding anniversary or birthday with her. Once, her biggest wish had been for him to lay down his work just for a moment and celebrate a single birthday with her. But now, she no longer needed it. "Come on," Reuben insisted. "You've been down ever since Macey passed away. I've invited a few friends you know." Phoebe had no choice but to change into the dress and head to the restaurant with Reuben. The people he invited were all colleagues from the police station whom Phoebe had met before. Yet before they could get far into the meal, Emma suddenly sprinted inside. "Officer Lane, we have an emergency mission!" Reuben immediately put down his utensils, guilt flashing in his eyes. "I'm sorry, Phoebe. You'll have to go home on your own later." The group bolted out the door and sped away in their car. Phoebe set her utensils down as well. Outside, a pouring rain lashed against the streets. Cars and pedestrians were scarce. Though she waited for a long time, the downpour showed no signs of stopping. As the night grew darker, the restaurant began closing up shop. Phoebe had no choice but to stand up and trek home through the driving rain. As she passed through a narrow alley, a hand suddenly reached out from behind, clamping tightly over her mouth and dragging her deep into the shadows. Chapter 7 Phoebe fought desperately, biting through the man's hand as he tried to muffle her screams, but her cries were swallowed by the driving rain. The man pinned her down, shoving a gag into her mouth before tying her up with a rope. He ripped viciously at her clothes. Knives, axes, and other tools lay beside him. Rain lashed relentlessly against Phoebe's eyes as she stared up in pure terror at the bloodthirsty man looming over her. She knew what was coming—violation, followed by death. Yet she refused to accept it. She had just found the courage to walk away from a failed marriage and was finally ready to start over. She couldn't die like this. Phoebe thrashed wildly beneath him, but the man pinned her down, raining blow after blow across her body. With blood trickling from the corner of her mouth, she watched in despair as he began to unbuckle his pants. Right then, a gunshot rang out in the distance. The man froze. A flash of vicious intent crossed his eyes as he snatched up the axe and swung it straight toward Phoebe's head. Another gunshot rang out, and the axe clattered to the ground right beside her ear. Reuben led a squad of men charging in, tackling and subduing the attacker. He stripped off his jacket, scooped the trembling Phoebe into his arms, and pulled her tight against his chest. "It's over now. You're safe. I'm sorry, Phoebe. I got here too late." The gag was pulled from her mouth. Buried in Reuben's embrace, Phoebe gasped for air before finally breaking down. She grabbed his collar and sobbed uncontrollably. As she watched the bound criminal hauled away, the sheer tension finally drained out of her, and she slipped into unconsciousness. … She woke up in a ward. Staring blankly at the glaring white lights overhead, she recalled the previous night's nightmare. She started to sit up when she heard Emma's voice drifting in from the hallway. "Reuben, your plan was absolute genius. Dressing Mrs. Lane up in a red dress flushed that serial killer right out into the open. He'll never hurt anyone again! I heard you're getting a commendation for this—" "Stop," Reuben replied evenly. "This case was solved through everyone's combined effort. It wasn't just my doing." Phoebe felt as though she'd been struck by lightning. Everything that happened last night—the dress he gave her, the birthday dinner, the way he left her stranded at the restaurant—was just a setup to use her as bait? It was a trap for the serial killer, and everyone had known about it except her. Reuben walked into the ward. "Phoebe, you've been through a lot. Take it easy and get some rest—" A sharp slap cracked across Reuben's face, cutting him off mid-sentence. His head snapped to the side from the blow. Tasting blood in his mouth, he frowned. "Phoebe, you—" He turned back to see tears streaming down her face. Her voice trembled with raw fury. "Reuben, how could you? How could you use me as bait without even asking me?" Reuben fell silent for a few seconds. "I'm sorry. I should have talked to you first. But Phoebe…" His gaze turned earnest. "If you hadn't torched Emma's files out of petty jealousy, we wouldn't have had to go this far just to get a suspect profile. We did this to catch the serial killer faster and stop anyone else from getting hurt. You have to understand." A crushing wave of exhaustion washed over Phoebe. She felt too tired to even speak. She simply stared at Reuben with a hollow, numb expression. "I understand. Now get out. I want to rest." With that, she closed her eyes and lay down, refusing to say another word. Reuben sighed softly, then murmured, "Get some rest, then." As his footsteps faded down the hall, Phoebe opened her eyes, got out of bed, and discharged herself. The moment she got home, the phone rang. Picking it up, she heard an unfamiliar woman's voice. "Is this Ms. Phoebe Graham? I'm just calling to let you know your divorce has been finalized. Your certificate is ready. Please bring your documents when you come to pick it up." Her divorce… was finally official. And today was the exact day she was supposed to leave for the delegation in Marlowe. Phoebe tightened her grip on the receiver, her voice barely a whisper. "Got it. I'll be right there." She went back to her room, hauled out her packed suitcase, and glanced around the apartment they had shared for five years. She had already cleared out every last trace of herself and Macey, leaving nothing behind. From this moment on, she was wiping herself entirely from Reuben's life. They were finished, once and for all. Phoebe turned on her heel and walked out the door without a single glance back. … Phoebe collected her divorce certificate at the county courthouse. The radio nearby was broadcasting the news. A report announced the capture of the rainy-night serial killer and praised the police officers who had helped crack the case. When Reuben's name crackled through the speakers, Phoebe handed the clerk his office phone number. "Could you please let him know to come collect it in person?" After that, she headed straight to the dance troupe to meet up with her two traveling companions and head for the airport. The rain had cleared, leaving a beautiful sky behind. Her new life was finally beginning.