Qianshan Twilight Snow Only Shadows Towards

For the ninety-ninth time, the critical condition notice for her husband landed in Shirley’s hands. She couldn’t stop herself—her palm cracked across Heather’s cheek.

“Christopher and I are not divorced yet. Know your place.”

Heather froze, then screamed, hysterical. “How dare you hit me! Christopher said I could do whatever I wanted!”

“He said he’d love me enough to die for me, so let him die! Let’s see any of you try to save him!”

Snatching up a fruit knife, she stabbed wildly toward Shirley. Not a soul moved to intervene.

Because compared to the so-called “Mrs. Christopher,” Heather was the one Christopher truly cherished.

The man paranoid enough to sleep with a blade under his pillow had allowed Heather to use him as a test subject—for candle burns, drowning games, plastic bag suffocation.

The man who detested the color pink had let her cover his face in lipstick kisses and Hello Kitty stickers.

So even as she slashed Shirley until she bled, no one dared lay a finger on her.

“Heather!” Christopher’s voice cut through the chaos as a nurse wheeled him out. His face was pale. “Your face… what happened?”

Tears pooled in Heather’s eyes. “I just wanted to see you die for me, but Shirley wouldn’t let me. She tried to kill me…”

Christopher’s sharp gaze snapped to Shirley. “You laid a hand on her? Heather is like this because of you! You promised to take care of her for life!”

Shirley bit her lip until she tasted copper.

On her twentieth birthday, her foster father, Gabriel, had brought home Heather—his biological daughter, missing for fifteen years.

Shirley had taken her abroad. In the moment it took to glance at a text, Heather vanished.

They found her half a month later, but from then on, Heather grew stranger.

She threw kittens off balconies. She locked classmates in bathrooms.

Doctors diagnosed a severe empathy deficit, triggered by trauma. She couldn’t grasp the consequences of her actions.

Consumed by guilt, Shirley brought her to the Christopher family, hoping their resources could help.

And though Heather had rarely targeted others in recent years, she never spared Shirley.

With Christopher’s indulgence… Shirley was just so tired.

Her eyes reddened; the hand pressed to her wound trembled. “Since you’re fine, we’ll finalize the divorce tomorrow.”

She turned to go, but Christopher’s voice halted her.

“You hurt her and think you can walk away? What about your promise?”

He signaled a bodyguard to restrain Shirley, then spoke gently to Heather. “Don’t be scared. I’ve got you.”

Though Shirley’s injuries were far worse, Christopher acted as if he didn’t see them, drawing Heather close instead. “Anyone who bullies you will pay tenfold.”

Shirley broke, her scream raw. “Christopher, *I* am your wife! You promised me once—you’d always be my shield, that you’d never let anyone hurt me!”

He’d once crossed half the country to buy her a cup of bubble tea.

During an earthquake, he’d shielded her with his body, breaking three ribs.

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