Ivy was exhausted when she returned to Morgan Mansion. Despite receiving this large project, she couldn’t find it in herself to be happy.

Perhaps it was because she wasn’t mentally prepared to hear such an old, tragic story. She lay in her bed in the middle of the night, ruminating on the contents of that photograph.

Suddenly, a notification appeared on her phone.

She picked it up irritably, glanced at it, and frowned.

Wyatt had sent it.

[Ivy, I’m glad you were the person I saved.]

Ivy blinked; her gaze fixed on the darkness outside the window. She then went outside to get a glass of milk, which she slowly...