When Memory Fades But Justice Remains

On the seventh day after my daughter's tragic death in a car accident, the killer was sitting in my husband's passenger seat.

My husband, a top-tier lawyer, was mounting her defense.

I scrambled for evidence outside the courtroom while he protected her inside.

Until I fell gravely ill and remained in a coma for half a year.

When I woke up, I stopped pursuing the truth. I stopped asking questions hysterically.

Because I had started to forget my daughter's voice.

The sound of her calling "Mommy" had become blurred in my memory. Even her face was beginning to fade.

And Ethan was still preparing late into the night for that killer.

That day, he couldn't find his case files and snapped at me impatiently, "Where's the folder I asked you to put away the night before last?"

I walked to the study doorway with empty eyes. "What?"

He sneered coldly. "Playing dumb? You're best at remembering these things, aren't you?"

I lowered my eyes and stayed silent for a long time.

"I was just thinking," I said softly, "what my daughter looked like. I can't quite remember anymore."

The air suddenly froze.

The documents in Ethan's hands scattered across the floor.

And I stood there, trying desperately to recall that little face that should have been carved into my bones.

But now, all that remained was a blurry glow.

"Learned a new tactic? Trying to get my attention with this indifferent attitude?" Ethan's expression was dark enough to drip water.

"Tara, I know you're angry---angry that I'm defending Rachel. But I'm a lawyer. I won't abandon any client. Besides, Rachel is innocent."

I looked confused. "Why are you explaining all this to me? I didn't even mention Rachel."

Ethan's angry expression instantly froze.

A flicker of guilt appeared in his eyes.

He pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Forget it. I'll find it myself."

I turned and went back to the bedroom.

Just as I was about to lie down and rest, Ethan's gentle voice came through the door that hadn't closed all the way, somewhat muffled.

"Rachel, what's wrong? Don't cry, tell me slowly... Those reporters are making things up. I'm coming over right now."

After a while, the bedroom door was pushed open.

"Rachel's having some trouble. I'm her defense attorney, so I need to handle it."

He explained somewhat uncomfortably.

"Oh."

Ethan froze.

He seemed to be waiting for what I would say next.

But I simply nodded calmly and gave him a slight smile.

After all, I couldn't even remember where that folder was---how could I be expected to remember someone named Rachel?

Ethan left in anger and didn't come home all night.

The next evening, he returned.

And with him came Rachel.

Her eyes were red-rimmed as she cowered timidly behind Ethan.

That face was indeed pure and innocent. Even at thirty, she still looked like a college student.

No wonder Ethan couldn't forget her.

"Tara," Ethan coughed uncomfortably.

"Rachel's address was exposed. It's not safe. I'm letting her stay at our place for a few days."

Rachel's voice was barely a whisper:

"Tara, I'm sorry for intruding. I really have nowhere else to go. Those people are terrifying---they're calling me a murderer..."

"How fake," I thought to myself, turning to go to the kitchen.

At the dinner table, Rachel sat next to Ethan.

She kept passing him the pepper, cutting his steak for him.

Busy as a bee.

"Ethan, you have a sensitive stomach. You can't eat spicy food."

She placed the peeled shrimp into Ethan's bowl and shot me a challenging look.

Ethan glanced at me somewhat awkwardly, wanting to see my reaction.

I just quietly sipped my soup.

"Tara, aren't you going to eat some food?"

Seeing my indifference, Ethan proactively pushed the plate of peeled shrimp toward me.

"This shrimp is quite fresh."

Looking at that plate of shrimp contaminated with Rachel's saliva, my stomach instantly churned.

I felt utterly disgusted.

"No, thank you," I said flatly.

"Tara, what are you making a fuss about now? You've been sulking ever since Rachel walked through the door."

"What happened to our daughter was an accident. Why do you insist on blaming Rachel?"

Ethan's voice turned cold.

I looked at him in confusion, about to speak---

But was interrupted by Rachel's crying.

"Ethan, should I not have come? Tara seems to really hate me... Maybe I should just leave, even if those people beat me to death..."

"Don't talk nonsense. This is my house. I can let whoever I want stay here."

"She's just been in that place too long. Her temper's become strange. Don't pay attention to her."

Ethan coaxed her gently.

Hearing these words, my heart felt nothing.

Only numbness remained.

And so Rachel moved in.

She couldn't sit still either.

Every day she found new ways to assert her presence in front of me.

Wandering around the living room in a silk nightgown.

Looking for something, her eyes occasionally glancing my way.

I found her behavior bizarre.

I just thought there was something wrong with her brain.

Ethan had been so busy these past few days that he'd been staying at his office. Who was she performing for?

But I couldn't be bothered. I turned back to watching TV.

Then I caught sight of a small plush toy in the corner of the TV cabinet.

The toy was dusty, one eye slightly loose.

My heart clenched painfully.

This was my daughter's favorite. How could it be here?

I was still pondering this when Rachel suddenly reached from behind me and snatched the plush toy from my hands.

"Oh thank god, I thought I'd lost it."

I stared at her. "This is yours?"

Rachel raised her chin, smiling smugly. "Yes, Ethan gave it to me. He said it suits my personality perfectly."

Ethan gave it to her?

Fragments of broken images flashed through my mind.

My daughter running toward me in a pink tutu, bouncing with joy.

"Give it back." I reached out to Rachel, my voice hoarse.

"Why should I? It's mine!"

"This was my daughter's. It can't be yours!"

I lunged forward and grabbed Rachel's wrist.

"Let go of me!" Rachel screamed.

The front door burst open and Ethan, who'd left work early, rushed in.

Seeing this scene, he said nothing and shoved me away.

I crashed heavily into the corner of the table, sharp pain shooting through my waist.

Ethan shielded Rachel and glared at me furiously. "Tara, have you lost your mind?!"

I pointed at the plush toy, tears streaming down my face.

"This was Nina's. Ethan, why is she saying it's hers?"

A flash of discomfort crossed Ethan's face.

"That was a gift I gave Rachel!"

"Now you're even trying to steal this? Are you still sick?!"

Those words were like a bucket of ice water poured over my head.

I stopped arguing.

Because I suddenly realized my memory had serious problems.

I raised my head and stared at Ethan for a long moment.

Those eyes that once held so much love now contained only impatience and disgust.

Splitting apart the gentle image in my memory.

When I first met him, I was the notorious spoiled heiress of our social circle.

Everyone said I was destined to die alone.

That even for an arranged marriage, no upper-class son could tolerate my temper.

Only Ethan.

Back then he was just a fledgling lawyer, standing firmly in front of me.

"Don't listen to them. The way you love and hate so fiercely---it's beautiful."

"I'll spend my whole life protecting your pride."

For that promise, I didn't hesitate to break with my family to marry beneath my station.

I stood by him from having nothing to becoming today's top attorney.

But later, when I kept crying and making scenes over Rachel, he finally grew tired of me.

"Tara, when will you finally fix that domineering personality of yours? It's so annoying."

All my breakdowns and tears were nothing but unreasonable tantrums in his eyes.

Remembering the past, sourness welled up in my nose. I'd never felt so wronged.

"Ethan, did you really buy this plush toy?"

His eyes flickered with panic for an instant, his voice unconsciously rising.

"There are tons of similar plush toys out there! Do you have to imagine that the whole world is targeting you before you'll be satisfied?"

Rachel stood behind him, a provocative smile playing at her lips, though her voice was aggrieved:

"Ethan, forget it. Since Tara insists, I'll give it to her. Even though this was a gift from you, I don't want you two fighting over a toy..."

"Don't give it to her!"

Ethan looked at me coldly. "Tara, don't forget that Nina's ashes are still at the funeral home. If you keep making trouble, I don't mind making her disappear forever!"

My whole body trembled.

My nails dug hard into my palms.

Ethan was a man who meant what he said.

I closed my mouth and said nothing more.

After this incident, to appease Rachel, Ethan decided to throw a small gathering at home.

"Tomorrow is Rachel's birthday. I've invited some colleagues and friends over to celebrate. Since you're home with nothing to do anyway, you can handle the food and decorations."

I was dazed for a moment.

Tomorrow was October 15th.

An inexplicable sadness welled up in my heart.

This date seemed very important to me somehow.

But I couldn't remember why.

Seeing my delayed response, Ethan frowned slightly.

"Rachel's been through a lot lately. I want to make her happy."

"You'd better act gracious and not embarrass me."

I nodded mechanically.

After he left, I directly called a home service team.

The old me would never have let others handle such things.

Back when Ethan was just starting out, he was so busy his feet barely touched the ground.

He often skipped meals and frequently suffered from stomach pain.

I felt so bad for him that I, a pampered young lady who'd never lifted a finger, forced myself to learn how to cook.

But Ethan took it for granted and would even complain that the food I brought was cold.

Feeding your sincerity to a dog---this must be what that felt like.

Early the next morning, the house was decorated with flowers.

Rachel smiled sweetly at Ethan.

"Ethan, isn't this cake beautiful? It's my favorite---strawberry flavor!"

Ethan wrapped his arm around her waist affectionately and smiled. "As long as you like it."

Soon after, the guests began arriving.

Rachel sat in the center, accepting everyone's well-wishes.

"Wishing Rachel eternal beauty!"

"Mr. White really is so thoughtful toward Rachel!"

Rachel laughed cheerfully, her eyes drifting toward me in the corner now and then.

"Actually, I have Tara to thank for today being so wonderful."

"Even though we've had some misunderstandings, all these fruits and desserts were personally prepared by her."

Everyone's eyes instantly focused on me, filled with curiosity and mockery.

"So this is Mrs. White? I heard that after her daughter's accident, she fell seriously ill."

"She looks pretty normal, though. How could she..."

Ethan frowned, seemingly not wanting people to pay too much attention to me.

"Alright, let's cut the cake."

The lights dimmed.

Rachel closed her eyes to make a wish, the candlelight illuminating her blissful face.

Just then, the doorbell suddenly rang.

"Who is it? It's so late." Ethan opened the door with some displeasure.

Standing at the door was a delivery person, holding a bouquet of white lilies, a stuffed bear, and a photo of my daughter from when she was alive.

Ethan's face turned iron-dark. "Who told you to deliver these things?!"

The delivery person looked confused, pulling out a receipt to verify.

"That's right. Ms. Tara ordered these from us half a year ago. She said today was her daughter's death anniversary and we absolutely had to deliver them to this address."

The delivery person peered inside as he spoke.

My head began to ache again, my temples throbbing.

I held my head and stepped back, bumping into the wine on the table.

The wine bottle fell to the floor, glass shards flying everywhere.

All the fragmented memories reassembled themselves in that moment.

A red sports car crashed into a guardrail, its front severely deformed.

My daughter lay in a pool of blood, eyes still open, staring fixedly ahead.

And Ethan, the man I'd loved for five years---

Was frantically pulling the alcohol-reeking Rachel from the driver's seat, stuffing her into the passenger seat, then getting into the driver's seat himself.

He turned his head and looked at me as I rushed over, revealing a cruel expression.

"Tara, this was an accident. Nina is already dead."

"But Rachel is still alive. She can't go to prison."

Reality and memory slowly overlapped.

I looked at the white lilies before me, at the festive red balloons filling the room.

My whole body began to tremble, my eyes turning bloodshot.

"Ethan, did you think giving me injections and hypnotizing me would make me forget all this?"

"Impossible! I won't forget that Rachel killed Nina, and you're her accomplice!"