The cold, hard ground dug into her shoulder blades.
Rachel's skinny wrists were pressed tightly against the cement floor, and blood kept seeping between her fingers, it was from the broken glass she stepped on while cleaning the streets yesterday.
The sharp sound of high heels clicking above her echoed like a death sentence.
"The best new lawyer who used to speak so eloquently in court is now just a mess," Celeste said coldly.
When she squatted down, the folds of her Chanel suit still looked elegant, but the way her fingers pinched Rachel's chin made it feel like her skull was being crushed.
Rachel struggled to raise her head.
The woman in front of her, flawless makeup, poised expression, was completely different from the crying girl in her memory.
That girl used to beg her for help in the hospital room. "Why... Camila's death…"
"How dare you bring up my sister?"
Celeste suddenly screamed, her nails almost digging into her own skin. "The surveillance footage caught the whole thing. You were drunk, and you ran three red lights!"
Rachel's eyes moved past Celeste's shoulder and locked onto the man standing in the shadows.
He wore a perfectly tailored suit, and on his wrist was the titanium watch she had given him.
But his eyes, they were even colder than before. "Ralph... do you remember? Our first date was in Central Park. You said my eyes looked like stars…"
"That's enough," Ralph finally said, his voice sharp like a blade iced over. "I should've listened to my father and stayed away from someone with your background."
When he turned, the hem of his coat brushed against her face.
The wind that followed still carried Celeste's rose-scented perfume.
"Clean this up. Don't ruin my engagement party."
Celeste smirked and slowly ran her fingers over Rachel's trembling hands. "I heard a lawyer's hands are their most valuable tool. So how about we…"
She looked up suddenly and winked at the bodyguard beside her.
"Break three of her finger bones. Let her remember, she's never allowed to touch legal documents again."
Rachel finally blacked out when the pain shot through her ring finger.
In a daze, she found herself back on that rainy night three years ago. Rain slammed against the windshield.
Camila's car had sped toward her like a wild animal that had lost control.
Through the bright headlights, she saw Celeste's face flash by in the passenger seat…
Rachel woke up suddenly, her sweat-soaked pajamas clinging to her back. She stared at the swaying shadows of the trees on the ceiling, gasping for breath.
Her right hand curled up unconsciously, and the twisted shape of her knuckles looked like a scary scar in the moonlight, it had been broken by a fellow prisoner in jail, and the bone didn't heal properly.
The metal cabinet at the sanitation station creaked when she opened it. She took out her wrinkled work clothes and put them on.
The fluorescent lights above the mirror were way too bright.
As she passed by the bulletin board, a newly posted engagement notice flapped in the wind: Ralph Young and Celeste Howard, the century's grand celebration of the marriage between the rich and powerful.
In the photo, the two of them were standing close together. Ralph's ring finger wore the diamond ring she had personally picked out, and now it was on someone else's hand.
The winter night wind was like a knife, and the broom handle hurt her knuckles as she swept the streets.
Rachel silently counted the sycamore leaves on the ground when suddenly, the sharp screech of brakes cut through the silence.
A red Ferrari stopped diagonally in the middle of the road.
Elijah rolled down the window with a greasy smile on his face. "Hey, isn't this Lawyer Diaz? Sweeping streets more exciting than arguing in court?"
She didn't say anything. She turned and ran. The sharp clack of her heels echoed across the empty street.
As she rounded a corner, she slammed straight into a firm chest. She looked up and saw a pair of lifeless peach blossom eyes staring back at her.
The collar of his Zhongshan suit was worn out, but it couldn't hide his broad, straight shoulders.
When the man lowered his eyes, his lashes cast butterfly-like shadows beneath them, but they couldn't cover the dark storm rolling in his gaze.
"Get lost."
Elijah's fist came swinging with a loud whoosh, but the man didn't even bother to look up.
He just shoved him aside. Elijah flew nearly two meters away like a puppet with its strings cut.
Rachel saw it clearly, the man's sleeves slid down slightly during the movement, and a tattoo wrapped around his forearm like a sleeping python, glowing faintly under the streetlight.
Once the fighting stopped, silence fell over the street again.
The man leaned against the wall and sat down. His profile flickered in the shadows.
Rachel thought of the old prison guard who used to share his lunch with her.
Right before he died, he had the same expression, like an empty shell with all the life drained out of him.
"Come with me."
Even she was surprised she said that.
But the man looked up, and for a second, a flicker of light flashed in his eyes, like a dying candle that suddenly sparked back to life.
In the rental house, the bluish glow of the induction cooker reflected off two bowls of clear noodle soup.
The man held his bowl with surprising grace, but the thin calluses on his knuckles couldn't be hidden.
When Rachel handed him a towel, she felt the warmth of his wrist.
Suddenly, she remembered, three years ago, in the hospital, Ralph also wiped the cold sweat from her forehead in this exact same way.
But now—
"My name is Jeffrey."
The man spoke suddenly, his voice smooth and calm, like jade soaked in melted snow. "What's yours?"
"Rachel."
She lowered her head and stirred the noodles.
The rising steam blurred her eyes. "Three years ago... I was convicted of drunk driving and murder."
The chopsticks in Jeffrey's hand paused. But unlike others, he didn't show disgust or pity. He just looked at her quietly.
The darkness in his eyes grew even deeper, like a still pool hiding countless secrets.
That night, lying in bed with the light on, listening to the quiet breathing on the floor, Rachel didn't have a nightmare for the first time.
In the morning light, his bangs had slipped to the side, revealing a smooth forehead. His lashes cast gentle shadows beneath his eyes.
Turns out, when he was asleep, his face looked so peaceful, like a child forgotten by the world.
Morning light leaked in through the rusty security net.
Rachel squatted beside the bed, her fingertips hovering above Jeffrey's cheek, hesitating whether to brush away the loose strands of hair on his forehead.
The hair whorls she touched when she brushed his hair last night were still there, and the warmth of his skin felt so real it made her shiver.
"Want to take me in?"
The man suddenly opened his eyes.