Samantha sent out a lot of people to look for me, but of course, they couldn’t find me. 

My body was still in the morgue. 

The police and the coroner kept calling her, asking her to come identify and sign off on the body. 

But Samantha only trusted her own belief. She was convinced the body was a fake and that I was hiding somewhere, laughing at her. 

After yet another call from the police, Samantha snapped. She threw things around the villa, furious. 

Lewis and Elsie came by. They didn’t know I was dead. 

Everyone assumed that my release from prison meant I’d return to Samantha’s side—after all, I loved her so much. I was even willing to take the blame for a crime I didn’t commit just to protect her. 

But every time, it was Isaac who came out to greet them. He offered coffee and shared stories of his upbringing under Elsie and Lewis’s care for over 20 years. 

Elsie and Lewis quickly became swayed. 

They began to think it might be better that I didn’t return from overseas. Having Isaac as their only son seemed like a good idea. 

After all, even though I was their biological child, Isaac was the one they’d actually raised. 

Before leaving the villa, Lewis hugged Elsie, comforting her, “It’s normal for a child to grow up and have their own lives. 

“Joziah’s been abroad for a few years. I guess he has become wild and free like the people there. Let him have a few more years of freedom. When he starts missing home, he’ll naturally come back.” 

I never could have imagined Lewis would say that. 

I had been locked up in a prison overseas for three years, bullied by other prisoners, living a hellish existence. But in their words, it sounded like I was just over there, having fun with the prisoners and still not tired of it.