Standing before Jonathan was a young man in his early twenties, dressed casually in a black hoodie and jeans. He was definitely not Teresa.

Jonathan’s gaze darkened. “Where is Teresa?” he demanded sharply.

The young man blinked, looking confused. “And you are?”

Jonathan’s tone grew colder. “Teresa, the owner of this house. Is she here?”

The young man shrugged, his expression innocent. “I’m the owner now. I live here, alone. Oh, and there’s Lily.”

He turned and whistled. A gorgeous Ragdoll cat strutted from the hallway, ignoring its owner and rubbing affectionately against Jonathan’s leg.

Jonathan was momentarily speechless.

The young man snorted. “Lily, you traitorous tomcat. Ditching me for a stranger, huh?” Jonathan frowned, glancing down at the clingy cat.

“Don’t believe me? Go ahead, take a look,” the young man said generously, stepping aside.

The three-bedroom apartment was a mess—snack wrappers littered the floor, and several oil paintings were haphazardly stacked on the living room table. The young man chuckled as he moved them.

Jonathan stared at him for a few seconds, then scanned the room. There was no sign of a woman, and certainly no trace of Teresa.

He pulled out his phone and made a call. The person on the other end confirmed, “No mistake, Mr. Lynn. It’s Building One, East Unit, third floor.”

“I’m really the owner. If you don’t believe me, take a look.” The young man produced the title deed and showed it to Jonathan. The name on it was Benson Harris, 24 years old, and he was the sole owner.

The property manager arrived shortly after and clarified the situation. Benson was indeed the current owner, but Teresa had been the previous one. The developer’s records still listed Teresa as the buyer. In other words, Teresa had already sold the apartment and disappeared.

“Do you have any contact information for the previous owner?” Jonathan asked urgently.

Benson shook his head. “I bought it sight unseen. It was newly renovated, never lived in, and in a great location, so I went for it. Cost me 510 thousand dollars.”

Jonathan fell silent. Teresa never came back after leaving Fernlandia. She sold the apartment directly and vanished.

Benson, looking completely clueless, held up his Ragdoll cat. “I swear, I don’t know this Teresa. I’m just a guy who bought a house.”

Jonathan snapped out of his thoughts. “Sorry for the trouble,” he said, turning to leave. As he reached the door, Benson followed him out. “Was the previous owner your wife? You seem pretty anxious,” he asked.

“Yeah, she’s my wife. What’s it to you?” Jonathan replied sharply.

“I don’t even know her. Can’t a guy ask a simple question?” Benson shot back defensively.

Jonathan studied Benson for a moment, realizing he genuinely didn’t recognize Teresa, then walked away.

Once Jonathan’s footsteps faded, Benson breathed a sigh of relief. He scooped up Lily and teased, “Lily, are you even a male cat? Rubbing up against every guy you see. You’re getting neutered tomorrow.”

Lily blinked at him, her wide eyes full of silent protest.

Benson plopped Lily onto the sofa, grabbed his phone, and started scrolling through his contacts. Cheryl was at her shop below the apartment building, her baby bump now impossible to hide. She couldn’t stay at home anymore—her parents were too traditional to accept her premarital pregnancy. So, Cheryl had been living there recently, in a shop she bought for 150 thousand. She spent her days tutoring twenty art-inclined kids and taking freelance illustration gigs online to make a living.

A few kids tugged at her hands. “Ms. Cheryl,” they called out excitedly.

An hour earlier, some of the kids had run outside to play. When they returned, they practically dragged Cheryl out the door, shouting, “Ms. Cheryl, you have to see this! There’s a super handsome man—he looks like a celebrity!”

Cheryl rolled her eyes. But the moment she stepped outside, she froze. Jonathan was there, staring at his phone, following the GPS. Her heart skipped a beat. “Oh crap!” She quickly ushered the kids back inside, trying to act casual.

Peeking from behind the shop window, she watched Jonathan head straight for Golden Bay Complex. It hit her—he must be here looking for Teresa.

Without wasting a second, Cheryl called Benson, her classmate, to give him a heads-up. The phone rang, and Cheryl answered quickly upon seeing the caller ID.

Benson casually fiddled with a painting Cheryl had dropped off earlier. “It’s no big deal. Don’t worry about it. He’s already gone.”

“You didn’t tell him I’m living downstairs, did you?” Cheryl asked nervously.

“Why would I bring you up? I didn’t say a word about you,” Benson replied with a chuckle.

“Good, that’s good,” Cheryl sighed in relief, wiping sweat from her forehead. “Good thing I warned you in time. If you’d let it slip that you knew me, Jonathan would have come looking for me and started grilling me with questions,” she added.

Benson laughed lightly. “What’s there to be scared of? Your cousin seems like a pretty decent guy.”

Cheryl’s gaze dropped to her growing belly. She was still hiding it under loose denim overalls, but with the weather warming up, thick winter clothes were no longer an option. In just a few months, by late summer, she’d be giving birth. She was determined not to go back home.