A suggestive hickey rested on the delicate ridge of her shoulder blade.

Early that morning, in the bathroom.

Mia Grant twisted her body sideways, contorting her torso as she tried desperately to see the mark on her back.

After just one night, the mark seemed to have darkened, imprinted firmly on her skin.

She ran a hand through her hair in frustration. The more she thought about it, the angrier she got.

If the timing wasn’t so bad, she really would have stormed next door, grabbed a certain someone, and given him a sound thrashing.

’He knew perfectly well my gown was backless, yet he still had to leave a mark in such a conspicuous spot!’

It was too late to change her gown.

Mia Grant let her hair down, checking her reflection from every angle. Thankfully, it was long enough to just barely conceal the mark.

What a shame about the hairstyle she’d planned, though. She was going to wear her hair in an updo to look like a gentle, elegant socialite.

After she finished washing up, a hotel staff member thoughtfully brought breakfast to her room. ’Felix Sinclair must have arranged this,’ she thought.

Not long after, Felix Sinclair arrived.

"You came alone?"

Mia Grant opened the door to let him in, glancing uncertainly behind him.

"Yeah."

Felix Sinclair had brought her breakfast, not expecting she would have already eaten.

She noticed his slight hesitation and, after a moment’s pause herself, quickly recovered. Taking the bag from his hand with a smile, she asked, "What goodies did you bring?"

"Nothing special, I just grabbed it on my way over." He hadn’t expected her to wake up so early; his timing was off.

Mia Grant glanced at the contents of the bag and knew he was lying.

She didn’t call him out on it. Instead, she led him over to sit by the floor-to-ceiling window. "Have you eaten? The hotel sent food over bright and early, but it wasn’t very tasty."

"I’ve eaten."

"Then have a little more with me." Mia Grant opened the bag and handed him half of a pineapple bun.

"When is your mother coming over?"

She’d assumed they would come together.

"This afternoon."

"Huh?" Mia Grant took a bite of her pineapple bun, chewing thoughtfully before asking, "I thought we were supposed to have lunch together?"

"She asked me to apologize to you. Something came up unexpectedly."

’This is weird,’ Mia Grant thought. ’Aside from the engagement party, what other major event could possibly be keeping the entire Sinclair family so busy?’

"Don’t tell me there’s a problem with the company?" Mia Grant’s heart sank as a million thoughts raced through her mind.

"No." Felix Sinclair’s expression remained unchanged, as calm as ever.

’He certainly doesn’t look like someone whose family is on the verge of a crisis.’

"Then what is it?"

Mia Grant was curious.

Felix Sinclair just looked at her, not saying a word for a long time.

Their eyes met suddenly.

Mia Grant’s hand tightened. Suddenly, the pineapple bun in her other hand lost its appeal.

She swallowed hard.

Her voice was hoarse as she asked cautiously, "Don’t tell me... this has something to do with me, does it?"

The young man’s silence was deafening.

In that moment, only two words echoed in Mia Grant’s mind: ’I’m screwed!’

It wasn’t the first time she’d experienced this feeling of wanting to die but being unable to.

She calmly took another large bite of her pineapple bun. After chewing for a good while, she asked, "So, what happened?"

"We’re this close, what could possibly be off-limits? Don’t worry, I’m used to this stuff. I can handle it."

With that said, she took another huge bite.

’She said she was used to it,’ he thought, ’but judging by the way her cheeks were puffed out in anger, she didn’t look like someone who could accept reality so calmly.’

’She’s just putting on a brave face.’

"Just say it. It’s fine. Whatever it is, it’ll pass."

"..."

’And here she was, comforting him.’

Felix Sinclair lowered his gaze, deliberating for a few seconds, seemingly still hesitant.

"Really, it’s fine. What’s so hard to say? Don’t tell me you’re calling off the engagement?"

"No." Felix Sinclair wasn’t silent because he was unwilling to speak; he was trying to find the right words.

"Yesterday, while the staff were cleaning up the greenhouse in the backyard, they dug something up. It’s yours."

"Huh?" Mia Grant looked up. "The last time I was at your house for dinner, I don’t think I went to the greenhouse."

Mrs. Sinclair had invited her over, and she’d gone straight back to school after dinner that night.

’I didn’t wander around anywhere.’

"What was it?"

’I haven’t lost anything recently.’

"An urn."

"..."

SPLAT. The pineapple bun in her hand dropped to the floor.

Mia Grant’s jaw dropped. "Huh???"

She pointed to herself. "Mine?"

"Sort of." It was, in fact, hers, but Felix Sinclair felt that putting it so bluntly sounded inauspicious.

"It still had your fake ashes inside."

Silence.

A vein throbbed on Mia Grant’s forehead as her mind raced.

’At first, it was Yates Donovan who’d threatened to dig up my grave and steal my ashes.’

’But I managed to stop him in time.’

’I’d thought Yates Donovan was certifiably insane, but who knew there was another lunatic to match him?!’

’There’s no way Felix Sinclair would do something like this. You could beat him to death and he still wouldn’t.’

’How depraved is that?’

’A model student like him with such a strong moral compass would never, ever do something like that.’

’Besides, Felix Sinclair had witnessed my "fake ashes" being scattered into the sea long ago. In fact, he’d even helped.’

’Then there’s no need to guess. It had to be Ian Sinclair.’

Mia Grant quickly zeroed in on the culprit.

She vaguely remembered now. Ian Sinclair *had* switched out the milk powder she had used for her fake ashes.

But she’d always assumed he... threw it away.

’I’ve been back for so long, and he still hasn’t thrown it away?!’

’I’m not even dead! What’s the point of keeping that thing?’

’Is he waiting to use it a second time?’

"This... it’ll be fine if we just explain it, right? We can just say it was a prank?"

"Your name is on it. My parents checked the security footage and saw Ian Sinclair burying it in the greenhouse."

"My parents are giving him the third degree right now, trying to figure out his motive."

CRACK. It was as if a bolt of lightning had struck. Mia Grant slid out of her chair and collapsed onto the floor.

Her world came crashing down.

"Wh-why didn’t he throw it away?"

"Apparently, before you returned, he kept the thing in his room."

"It was only after you came back that he realized it was fake. He probably never got a chance to dispose of it and, worried it would be discovered, buried it in the greenhouse for the time being."

"But..."

"But what?" Mia Grant asked instinctively.

"Maybe it wasn’t that he didn’t have a chance. Perhaps he’d grown attached to it and couldn’t bear to throw it away."

"..." Mia Grant’s lips twitched violently. "Are we even speaking the same language?"

If anyone else had said it, she would’ve brushed it off as a bad joke.

But Felix Sinclair was analyzing the situation with complete seriousness!

The absurdity of the situation, combined with his deadpan, serious tone and expression, was genuinely terrifying the more she thought about it.

Ian Sinclair’s phone was unreachable.

Mia Grant waited, terrified and anxious, until evening, when she finally saw him arrive with the Sinclair family.

She wanted to ask him about it, but never found the chance.

From the looks on his and Mrs. Sinclair’s faces, everything seemed perfectly normal.

Mia Grant breathed a temporary sigh of relief.

Guests were already starting to arrive.

"How strange."

"Didn’t that fake daughter from the Grant family die?"

"She drowned but didn’t die."

"Tsk, tsk. She really was born for a life of luxury."

"I know, right? First, everyone thought she was dead, but she survived. Then, everyone thought the Grant family would cast her out, but who knew she’d turn right around and latch onto the Sinclair family. The girl’s got skills, I’ll give her that. No idea what the Sinclairs are thinking."

"I heard it has nothing to do with the family. Apparently, she pulled some strings, and now the Sinclair’s eldest son refuses to marry anyone but her."