Carter told me he searched through all of Snowville and couldn't find Sergio. If he hadn't poisoned me, why would he seem so guilty?

I stood alone in the room, no one to answer me.

It felt as if I had been abandoned on a deserted island. The room had many comic books, novels, some art supplies, and a tablet.

However, the tablet wasn't connected to the internet, though it had plenty of movies and mini-games downloaded.

Every now and then, food would be brought through a rectangular hole.

Sometimes it was afternoon tea, sometimes fruit, and sometimes a full meal-each meal was different and nutritionally balanced.

At first, I didn't dare eat the food brought to me.

But after a whole day of hunger, I could feel the baby inside me becoming restless, its movements increasing in frequency.

I had no other choice. I feared for my life, and I feared for the baby's safety.

Things had come this far, and all I could do was survive.

Only by surviving could I have a chance to see Carter again.

I started eating the food and tried to rest.

At this point, I had a feeling I understood his plan: he simply locked me in this room, kept everyone away, and eventually, I would forget everything-including Carter.

There was no pen in the room, so I sat in front of the drawing board and drew day and night.

I sketched every memory I had of Carter, one drawing after another, day after day.

But his face became more and more blurry in my mind. At first, I remembered him clearly, but gradually, all

I could recall was his tall nose and the deep affection in his eyes.

Stacks of drawings piled up beside me, and time passed. I glanced at the calendar I had made.

I had been on this island for exactly one month.

That day, I picked up my pen. My muscles had formed a habit, and I began drawing.

But strangely, I could no longer remember what Carter looked like.

I flipped through the portraits I had drawn of him, and my fingers brushed over his face. Tears slowly slid down my cheeks.

"Carl, how could I forget you?"

I tried desperately to remember everything about him, but many things had faded into fragments.

Still, I could vaguely recall that he was the man I loved most.

But how had I ended up here? Where had Carter gone?

I pressed my hands to my head, and whenever I applied pressure, the pain in my skull was sharp.

Even so, I continued to dip my brush in paint, writing Carter's name again and again.

I couldn't forget him.

The next day, when I woke up, I instinctively walked to where I had stored the art supplies.

But there was no drawing board, and all my pictures were gone.

I stood there, lost in thought. What am I supposed to do?

Had something been placed here?

What am I searching for?

I felt like I had forgotten something important. Every time I tried to think about it, a sharp headache followed, so I tried to ignore it.

Days passed, and I forgot everything. My mind was foggy, and every day felt the same.

That morning, when I woke up, I found the door to my room had been opened.

I put on my coat and cautiously walked to the door, scanning the outside warily.

I had no idea why I was here or where I was supposed to go.

A kick from the baby in my belly made me look down at my rounded stomach.

I was pregnant? And from the looks of it, about five months along. I could even feel the baby moving.

Who was the father of this child? Was it Luke?

But why couldn't I remember anything?

I was in a large house; even the

stairs were carpeted. It was spotless, eerily quiet, as if no one had been here in ages. Was this my home? Why did it feel so unfamiliar?

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As I walked across the thick carpet and reached the door, I noticed the ceiling must have been over 20 feet high, and the door was especially large.

Through the window, I could vaguely see the beautiful garden with various flowers, especially the vibrant hydrangeas in full bloom.

There were rose bushes, fruit trees, a wooden swing, a mushroom-shaped house, and wild rabbits hopping on the lawn.

It looked like something out of a fairy tale, so beautiful.

I stood barefoot on the soft grass, feeling a little pricked, as the sea breeze lifted my white dress.

In the distance, I saw the ocean, and

up on the hills, there were white

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sheep grazing. The green grass rippled as the wind passed over it, a sight to behold.

The garden was a sea of blooming flowers, making me feel lighter and happier.

I sat on the swing, the whole scene in front of me so strange.

Suddenly, the swing was pushed from behind. Before I could even look back, I felt my body swaying.

The wind picked up, and I gripped the handles tightly, calling out, "Slow down."

"Okay," came a deep voice from above, strange yet somehow familiar.

The swing slowly stopped, and a tall man stepped in front of me. He wore a white shirt, black pants, and

his shirt was buttoned up to the top.

Silver-framed glasses sat on his nose, and he looked refined and scholarly.

I stared at him, as if I had seen him somewhere before.

"Who are you? How did I get here?"

He slowly crouched down and reached for my feet.

I instinctively pulled them back, eyes wary.

"Don't be afraid, Chloe. You're pregnant, and it's not safe to walk barefoot."

His voice was calm as he produced a pair of white slippers.

Doubtful, I hesitated but stretched my feet out. He gently grasped my ankles and wiped the dirt from my soles with care.

His hands were long and clean, and he didn't seem to mind cleaning my feet. Once done, he carefully slipped the slippers on.

"Who are you? Why am I here?"

He stood up slowly, adjusting his glasses with his fingers. His voice was calm as he said, "I'm your husband."

I gasped in shock. "No, that's impossible. My boyfriend is Luke. We're supposed to get engaged when I turn 18, I—"

"But Chloe, you're already an adult. Look, you're carrying our child-twins, a son and a daughter." Adult?

How could I be an adult? I clearly remembered Luke promising to take me on a world trip not long ago.noveldrama

He also said he would propose to me at my coming-of-age ceremony.

How am I pregnant? And where did this husband come from?

"No, you're lying. I don't know you."

"Chloe, I'm not lying. You've forgotten so much. You and Luke have already broken up."

"Impossible! We've known each other since we were eight. We promised to be together. How could we break up?"

"He betrayed you."

Luke betrayed me?

I clutched my head, the pain returning as I thought deeply.

The man knelt beside my feet,

gazing at me with great devotion "Chloe'll tell you everything. It's okay if you've forgotten me. We'll get to know each other again.

"My name is Sergio. I'm your psychologist. And I'm your husband."