The rental apartment emerged in dead silence. None of the three people spoke. The only sound was the faint, rhythmic ticking of the clock on the wall, a hollow reminder of the time slipping away.

Sandra lowered her head, trying to piece together the fragmented truth that had just filled her mind. She felt like she was standing on a fragile ship, the raging waves beneath her feet threatening to topple her entire world, leaving it in remnants beyond repair.

"Ah—!!" Her furious scream tore through the oppressive silence, raw and primal.

April and Arden watched in shock, as Sandra rushed into the kitchen, and came out moments later with a knife clutched tightly in her hand.

April's body went limp, sliding right out of the computer chair and landing on the floor with a thud. Her thick glasses slipped to the tip of her nose, teetering precariously as her eyes widened in terror.

She realized that she had stoked the fire a bit too much. She hadn't expected Sandra to get this angry.

"Sandra, wait! You don't have to do this." Arden's always playful and carefree voice became a little shaky.

He threw up his hands defensively, his eyes frantically searching her face for any hint of the woman he thought he knew—the stubborn and vulnerable woman, the one who challenged him with harsh words, the one who grew softer in his every embrace.

Sandra's eyes burned with the fire of rage. Beneath the fire, that seemed ready to consume everything, hid the glimmer of despair and pain.

Arden couldn't understand why she was so angry. Hadn't she already made her choice to leave him?

Yet, there was no time for him to figure it out. He stumbled backward into the bedroom. She followed relentlessly, the sharp blade gleaming in her hand.

Trapped on the bed, Arden barely had time to react before the knife arced and aimed between his legs.

Time seemed to stretch out, and a storm of uncontrolled emotions filled the air, pulling her back to a year ago, back to the beginning of it all—