the same moment, the engagement banquet glowed with lights and buzzed with excitement.
Rebecca held Andrew’s arm, radiant in a custom haute couture gown.
The host grabbed the mic with energetic opening remarks as guests clinked glasses, the air thick with champagne and floral scents–the entire atmosphere relaxed and joyful.
On the large screen, music swelled as a curated engagement video began playing.
Meticulously edited by the film crew, it chronicled their meeting, travels, proposal, and engagement preparations.
Rebecca watched scenes of herself locking eyes with Andrew, kissing, smiling–her gaze hiding a victor’s certainty.
Yet no one noticed the assistant controller at the tech booth suddenly paling.
“The hard drive files glitched. I didn’t press anything wrong.”
“Switch back, now!”
But the next second, after a blackout, a jarring new image flashed onscreen.
A plain hospital room. A single chair. A woman in a white dress centered in the frame.
Her expression was calm, eyes serene, voice measured.
“If you’re seeing this, I’m already gone.”
“First, I’m sorry for disrupting your occasion.”
The hall fell dead silent.
“1
Guests stared. Some recognized the woman onscreen–Emerie Emerie.
Andrew’s ex–girlfriend, once the talk of the town.
“My choice to leave is mine alone. It involves no one else.”
“I never hated Andrew. Never resented Rebecca. I’m just… exhausted.”
“These three years apart–I tried. I fought. I truly let go.”
There was no trace of tears in her voice, yet it tugged at the heart more than any sob.
“I left this video not to burden anyone with guilt. Just hoping someone might remember I existed.”
“Andrew, if you’re willing…”
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00:05
Chapter 6
Andrew stood frozen before the screen.
“…please watch the ocean for me.”
“Lastly, happy deathday to me.”
The screen cut to black.
Silence swallowed the room.
#288 Vouchers
The host panicked. Tech crew severed the feed. Rebecca reacted first, clenching her skirt hem, hissing: “Who inserted this?!”
“Unknown. The encrypted file triggered automatically. No manual override.”
Before the sentence finished, Andrew shoved through the crowd, bolted offstage, and sprinted toward the exit.
No one could stop him.
He tore into his car, slammed the accelerator, and raced toward Sunset Care Center.
Fifteen minutes later, he charged the front desk: “Emerie Emerie’s room–where?”
The receptionist blinked: “Sir, your relation to her?”
“I’m her emergency contact!”
Staff snapped to attention, guiding him to the third–floor ward.
The opened door revealed stillness. Curtains half–drawn. An empty chair.
The bed stood stripped. The water glass on the table was dry. Flowers in the vase had withered completely.
On the desk lay an envelope and a hard drive. The envelope read:
For Andrew Williams.
His trembling hands ripped it open.
Inside, neat elegant handwriting:
Andrew, hello.
If you’re reading this letter, it means I’ve kept my promise and left.
Don’t be too shocked. I arranged everything this way so you wouldn’t feel burdened or obligated to participate.
I don’t want you breaking down over me, restarting your life because of me, or seeing me as regret or baggage.
I used to think if you ever came back, I could start over too. But you never did.
So this time, I chose to walk alone.
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00:05
Chapter 6
You owe me nothing. No debts to repay.
Just promise you’ll see the ocean for me.
That place I longed for most, but can never reach now.
Thank you… for being part of my story.
Sincerely, Emerie.
The final stroke on the letter ended softly, though tear stains already soaked the paper.
288 Vouchers
Andrew knelt at the center of the hospital room, clutching the letter. His mind replayed her sitting by the bed, smiling as she said, “Don’t blame anyone.”
His chest felt gouged out, pain stealing his breath.
He remembered how she’d always say “I’m fine,” how she tried vanishing from his life without leaving traces.
But he never imagined she’d truly leave this world–leave him–forever.
Trembling, he inserted the hard drive. The screen lit up, revealing her final footage..
There stood Emerie before the balcony, moonlight washing over her. She offered the lens a gentle smile.
“That’s a wrap.”
“Thank you all for being part of this shoot.”
“The story… ends here.”
The image faded, leaving stark white text.
Final frame.
Andrew collapsed over the desk, sobbing uncontrollably.
Wind stirred the hospital curtains. Petals drifted down from the vase.
She was gone.
The world had lost its Emerie.
And a part of him was gone forever.
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