Chapter 1
“Nora’s missing a leg, such a downer.” When I heard this, I was holding carefully baked desserts, eager to share the good news with Jasper about my regained hearing. But in that moment, I froze, unable to believe what he said. “Nora?” Jasper turned and saw me, quickly taking the plate from my hands, communicating gently in sign language: “Why are you standing there? Come sit.” He always made sure I didn’t stand too long, worried that the prosthetic leg might cause me pain. But the next moment, with the same gentle look, he spoke to his friend in an irritated tone: “If she stands for too long, her leg hurts at night, and I have to massage it. Ugh, sometimes I still can’t get used to seeing her leg.” It was the first time I heard him speak with such disdain, and I almost couldn’t hold back my tears. “I have something to do, you guys chat.” Holding back tears, I returned to my room as calmly as usual. But as I entered the room, I heard Jasper say, “She can’t hear, what are you afraid of?” Tears suddenly flowed, and I wiped my face hard. My eyes fell on the photo on the bedside table. It was a picture of seventeen-year-old me and eighteen-year-old Jasper. Before the accident that year, we took this photo, full of unspoken feelings and hopes for a bright future together. But two months after the photo was taken, during a chain car accident on an overpass, I threw myself on Jasper to save him, losing my left leg, the one I danced with. Eighteen-year-old Jasper knelt by my hospital bed, choked with emotion, promising to take care of me for a lifetime. At twenty-eight, Jasper and I were seen by friends as the epitome of a loving couple. But it turned out, aside from me, everyone knew Jasper was disgusted by my leg and tired of it. He even cheated with the woman who bullied me. When I came out of the room, Jasper’s friend was gone, and I heard Jasper talking on the phone by the window. “Celeste, don’t be afraid, I’m coming home.” A charming female voice gently came through from the other end, and my body stiffened instantly. That voice haunted many of my nightmares. Jasper, with a warm expression, noticed me and calmly hung up the phone. “Nora, there’s something at the company, I need to go. Don’t wait for me for dinner.” I thought of the “home” he mentioned just now. After marrying Jasper, he bought this spacious penthouse, telling me it was our home. Now, which home was he going to? “Okay,” I said with difficulty, trying to remain calm, “You go ahead.” With my agreement, Jasper hugged me and then instructed Mrs. Jenkins, “Don’t forget to make pigeon soup for the lady.” Mrs. Jenkins acknowledged. After he left, Mrs. Jenkins typed on her phone to ask about my dinner preference. After answering, she glanced at the door, then at me, with a hint of sympathy in her eyes, muttering, “Poor lady…” Am I pitiful? I took the health tea she handed me and returned to the room. Sitting quietly by the window for over an hour, I impulsively opened my phone and logged into my long-unused Twitter. I found a few new bot followers. But when I clicked on one of their profiles, I saw a tweet posted just ten minutes ago. “A cockroach appeared at home, luckily my brother came in time, scared me to death — my brother also gave me a new ring, telling me that our love is as eternal and sincere as the ring’s meaning —” The photo showed a slender hand wearing a six-carat pink diamond ring, and when I saw the butterfly tattoo on the thumb, my eyes narrowed. It was Celeste… I’ll never forget the vivid black butterfly on her hand when she burned me with a curling iron.