Half-awake and half-lost in sleep, Osborne Orvington saw that beautiful bathroom again.
The door wasn’t fully shut. A narrow crack was left open, and soft steam curled out through it, hazy and teasing, enough to make anyone’s mind run wild.
Osborne shot to his feet at once.
Carissa Wyndham was his first love.
And first love, to him, had always been pure, clean as crystal, not a speck of flaw on it.
The pale white mist drifted gently. Through it, her figure seemed as fresh and graceful as green bamboo after rain, carrying that faint, soft fragrance that could get under a person’s skin without making a sound.
Looking at Carissa, so beautiful she almost didn’t seem real, like some fairy who had stepped out of a dream, Osborne couldn’t help reaching out to her. His voice was low, soft, almost trembling.
“Wen’er…”
He stared at her, eyes full of the kind of feeling he had buried for years, and murmured, “Wen’er, I love you.”
Carissa’s face flushed red. Her eyes were warm, tender enough to melt a person clean through.
“Zhiyuan, I love you too.”
Osborne pulled her into his arms in one quick motion.
The two of them forgot everything else…
“Wen’er, I love you!”
“Zhiyuan, I love you too!”
They called each other’s names over and over, like the whole world had gone silent and there was nothing left but each other.
Then—
Ring! Ring! Ring!
A shrill ringtone exploded right beside Osborne’s ear, harsh as hell, blowing the whole dream apart and scaring him so badly his heart nearly jumped out of his chest.
He jerked hard and sat bolt upright in bed.
His heartbeat slammed wildly against his ribs. His head felt like it was splitting open. Cold sweat had soaked through his shirt without him even noticing.
“Damn… this dream again.”
His face went dark on the spot.
It felt like the same old nightmare had dragged him out, pinned him down, and messed him up all over again. The frustration hit so hard he had the urge to lose it and smash his head against a wall.
This messed-up dream had haunted him for five or six years already.
Every single time he managed to feel better for a few days, every single time he almost stopped thinking about Carissa, this sweet, cruel dream would come back out of nowhere in his sleep.
In the dream, there was love.
The moment he woke up, all that was left was pain digging straight into the bone.
It tortured him, again and again.
His mood had been pretty great before this. But now, in just one instant, it had shattered completely.
That was life.
People spent their whole lives swallowing all kinds of helplessness. And some things… no matter how badly you wanted to forget them, you just couldn’t.
Carissa Wyndham—his first love.
That hazy, crystal-clean first love of his.
For Osborne Orvington, that relationship had never really gone away. It was like a poisoned thorn buried deep in his soul, stuck there for years—impossible to pull out, impossible to sort through, always aching in that dull, maddening way.
He’d drunk way too much that night.
Wyndham Calloway’s private detective agency had just opened, and Osborne had gone over to celebrate. He only meant to show his support, have a few drinks, keep the mood lively. But once the glasses started clinking, things got out of hand fast.
Wyndham was his childhood buddy, the kind of friend who’d grown up with him, fought with him, laughed with him, and stood by him through everything. The two of them were closer than real brothers. That guy was loyal, openhearted, and straight-up solid. Not long ago, he’d graduated from one of the most famous detective schools around and officially joined the ranks of the Holmes Detective Agency.
The Holmes Detective Agency had branch offices all over the world, spread across city after city.
And when a bunch of young men got together, trying to stay sober was basically a joke. A few rounds in, the whole group of brothers had already drunk themselves silly, so buzzed they probably couldn’t tell east from west.
Osborne could hold his liquor—better than most, in fact. But drinking with his own people wasn’t about showing off or playing tricks. It was about that vibe, that no-barrier closeness, that raw brotherhood. So he didn’t cheat, didn’t hold back, didn’t secretly stay sharp while everyone else got smashed.
In the end, he got properly drunk too.
He didn’t even know how he’d made it back home.
And then, like always, he had that annoying dream again.
Osborne frowned, still annoyed, and reached into the drawer for the hangover pills he’d made himself. He had just taken one out and hadn’t even put it in his mouth yet when the phone started ringing again.
His face darkened on the spot.
Seriously?
Who the hell was calling in the middle of the night? Was he not allowed to live?
Suppressing his irritation, Osborne grabbed the phone and glanced at the screen. He froze for half a second.
It was Carina Merriweather.
The vice president of the hospital.
The moment he saw her number, an image appeared in his mind almost automatically—a delicate face, beautiful and refined, but always carrying a faint trace of sadness, the kind that made people want to protect her without even realizing it.
His fingers moved fast as he answered.
“Osborne… Osborne… come quick… I… I can’t… open the door…”
Carina’s voice came through in broken pieces, uneven and shaky. And buried in that trembling voice was the sound of restrained crying.
Osborne’s heart jolted.
What happened to Carina?
That soft, helpless cry scared the haze right out of him.
Who was Carina Merriweather?
She was the top surgeon in thoracic surgery at Fushan County Hospital, and at the same time the hospital’s executive vice president—a brilliant, capable, stubborn, self-assured woman. The kind of woman who usually stood tall no matter what happened.
So how could someone like her fail to open her own door?
And why did she sound like she was crying?
What the hell had happened?
Had someone bullied her?
“Vice President Carina, don’t panic. I’m coming right now.”
Osborne spoke quickly, his voice turning serious.
A sharp unease rose in his chest all at once.
He pushed himself up unsteadily, still dizzy from the alcohol, grabbed a cup of cool boiled water and chugged it down in one go. Then he staggered out of the tiny rented room without wasting another second.