Mountain 11

 

Chapter 11 

Peter frowned deeply. “That’s impossible. You had your period just days ago.” 

Samantha kept her head down, voice choked with tears. 

“That wasn’t my period. It was a threatened miscarriage.” 

Peter froze momentarily before pressing on. 

“Even if that was a miscarriage, I haven’t touched you since that night two years ago. How could you be pregnant?” 

Samantha bit her lip. “You got drunk again six weeks ago.” 

Peter snorted coldly. “Did you steal her pajamas again?” 

He knew his alcohol tolerance. He knew who he loved. He’d never have touched Samantha unless mistaking her for Kim. 

Samantha clutched her clothes tightly. “Peter, I’m your girlfriend now.” 

Peter rubbed his temples. 

“But I’ve tried for two years. I still can’t forget her. I can’t love you.” 

“Terminate the pregnancy. Forcing things won’t bring happiness. Don’t waste your life.” 

With that, Peter walked out of the cemetery. 

Long after he’d left, Samantha’s voice carried from behind. 

“I’ll wait. Two years, five years, ten years-I’ll wait.” 

Love needed no reason. She loved Peter Jackson, inexplicably and completely. 

After leaving the gravesite, Peter collected the ring crafted from Kim’s ashes at the jewelry store before driving onto the highway. 

He needed the truth about Kim’s death. 

He refused to believe she’d truly died three days prior. 

The car raced forward. He stopped intermittently, checking surveillance footage from toll booths to every rest area they’d visited, 

Yet nowhere-absolutely nowhere-did Kim appear on any recording. 

Passing their accident site, Peter parked. He stared at the dented guardrail, emotions churning violently, 

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Chapter 11 

During their years together, Kim would rage if he glanced at another woman. 

She’d pinch his car hard and say, “Keep looking and I’ll rip it off.” 

But during the crash, when he deliberately tended to Samantha, Kim hadn’t cared. 

She hadn’t minded his attention elsewhere. Hadn’t minded his neglect. 

This wasn’t how things were when they’d loved each other. 

After standing too long in the biting wind, Peter drove to the photo studio. 

They’d taken wedding photos here. Kim had processed funeral portraits here. Her records must exist. 

Disappointment piled upon disappointment. Pushing the studio door open, his heart hammered like war drums. 

With trepidation, Peter approached the owner. 

“Sir, do you recall the young woman who came two days ago to adjust a photo to black and white?” 

“Black and white? 

Isn’t that for funeral portraits? 

We shoot artistic portraits here. Who’d come for funeral photos?” 

The owner frowned, looking at him as if he were an idiot. 

“Not to take funeral photos. To have an existing photo converted to monochrome.” 

Peter clarified. 

The owner shook his head. “Can’t recall. Probably not!” 

Peter trembled violently. 

“How can you not remember? 

She stood right here. I stood beside her. You said the photo was overexposed and unusable.” 

He stared unblinkingly at the shop owner, scrutinizing every flicker of expression on his face. 

Yet the answer still disappointed him: “This is a tourist area with constant crowds. I genuinely don’t remember.” 

“How could you not remember? 

How could you?” 

Peter whispered hoarsely, his face pale as a ghost after driving through the night. 

“The surveillance footage-I need to see your store’s recordings.” 

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He had to find Kim, had to prove she existed. 

The owner reluctantly led him to the monitoring station. 

Peter deftly scrolled through the footage to their visit date, meticulously reviewing each frame. 

But the more he watched, the more dread coiled in his chest. 

Kim’s presence in the recordings seemed erased-vanished like smoke. 

Instead, the footage showed him instructing the owner to ensure the photographer captured Samantha’s wedding pho- tos perfectly. 

“Can someone truly vanish from existence? 

Without leaving a single trace behind?” 

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For three years he’d thought of her, for three years he’d longed for net. Emany 

only to be told she was dead? 

Peter clutched the ring around his neck, agony churning inside him. 

Without pausing, he rushed back to the guesthouse. He refused to believe Kim wasn’t on any footage. 

Outside, the snow fell heavier, but Peter felt colder than those icy flakes. 

The guesthouse owner recognized him immediately upon arrival. 

“Peter, didn’t you and your girlfriend return to Philadelphia?” 

First time anyone recognized him. A flicker of hope sparked in Peter’s chest. 

“Boss, remember those two girls who came with me?” 

The owner looked baffled. “Two girls? 

There was only one girl with you! 

Peter’s grip tightened on the ring. 

“Boss, you’re mistaken. I definitely came with two girls. Rooms were scarce then – we only got one twin room.” 

He described every detail of that day. 

But the more he spoke, the more confused the owner looked. “You did book a twin room, but only one girl was with you.” 

The owner pulled up surveillance footage right then. 

From Peter’s entrance to entering the room, only Samantha appeared beside him. 

Peter replayed the footage repeatedly, his heart twisting into knots. 

“How is this possible?” 

First Kim vanished from footage. Now even people who’d met her forgot her? 

Like someone forcibly erased all memory of her existence. 

Leaving the guesthouse, Peter got back in his car. 

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