After four years in prison for a crime I didn’t commit, I finally came home. But my key didn’t work. The woman who opened the door was a frail, terrified stranger. It turned out my fiancée had sold my house to her scumbag son, who then used it to dump his own mother after stealing her fortune. We were two abandoned souls, and we became a family. Then, on her deathbed, she gave me one final, mysterious mission…

“That’s funny,” he said, his eyes narrowing. “The man who sold me this estate said his mother passed away.”

Just then, the front door of the mansion opened, and a young woman stepped out. She was beautiful, with a brightness that seemed to push back the evening gloom. “Dad, what’s going on?” she called. Then her eyes met mine, and she froze, her hand flying to her mouth.

“You,” she whispered.

It was her. The girl from the alley. The reason I’d lost four years of my life. Her name was Anna.

Everything came tumbling out then. Anna, crying, explained to her shocked father that I was the man who had saved her. I explained about Agnes, her son, and how I’d ended up living in my own house as a guest. Dr. Howell, horrified and deeply apologetic, insisted on driving me back immediately.

When we arrived, the small lamp by Agnes’s bed was on. She was sitting up against the pillows, looking like she had simply fallen asleep. But when Dr. Howell checked her pulse, he just shook his head. She was gone.