Michael Bolton looked at his father, but he only shook his head gently.

"This is impossible!"

Michael Bolton clenched his fists tightly, opening and closing them. At this point, he found himself with absolutely no way to prove that Steven Harris existed, as if he had completely vanished from this world.

No—not just vanished, but as if he had never existed in this world at all!

"That's it!" Michael Bolton suddenly remembered that during the sixth-grade spring outing, he and Steven Harris had taken a photo together, and that photo had always been kept in the family album! As long as he could find that photo, he could prove Steven Harris's existence!

Michael Bolton hurried over to the TV cabinet, pulled the album out from the drawer below, and carefully flipped through it page by page. After searching for a long time, Michael Bolton finally found the photo, but when his eyes fell upon it, he felt as if all the blood in his body had frozen.

—Michael Bolton clearly remembered that in that photo, both he and Steven Harris were wearing their school uniforms. He stood under the tree, while Steven Harris was up in the tree, both making funny faces at the camera. Yet now, the photo showed only himself making a face, and the tree above was empty—there was nothing there! Where Steven Harris should have been, there was not the slightest trace of any alteration.

"Xiaoyu, what's wrong?" His mother came over, looking at Michael Bolton with concern. When she saw the photo, she laughed, "Oh, isn't this the photo from your elementary school spring outing? When you brought it home, your dad and I even said, look at that face you made—so ugly, it hardly looks like our child!"

"This photo... you remember it? The person who was originally sitting in the tree?" Michael Bolton still refused to give up, asking in a trembling voice.

"There was never anyone else. It's always just been you in this photo. Xiaoyu, did you drink too much...?" Michael Bolton's mother looked worried as she reached out to feel his forehead.

"No, it's nothing, maybe I remembered wrong..."

Michael Bolton's last bit of rationality kept him from worrying his parents. He just shook his head in a daze, then pulled the photo out, gripped it tightly in his hand, stood up, and walked toward his room. "Mom, I'm tired today, I want to rest for a while."

Michael Bolton's mother nodded and said okay, then watched her son walk absentmindedly toward his room. She turned to look at Michael Bolton's father on the sofa, still a bit worried. "Our son... nothing's wrong, right?"

Michael Bolton entered his room, locked the door, placed the photo on the desk, and turned on the lamp to examine it carefully. Every detail in the photo was clear and distinct—the branches and leaves of the tree canopy were perfectly visible, with no sign of anything having been covered up or altered. Besides, this old photo from years ago was already slightly yellowed; it was impossible for it to have been edited and reprinted as a replacement.

So... where had Steven Harris in the photo gone? And where had he himself gone?

Social networks... classmates... parents... photos... every way Michael Bolton could think of to prove his existence had already been sentenced to death. Now, it seemed he truly had no way left to make anyone believe that there had once been a person named Steven Harris in this world.

Michael Bolton was sitting on the bed, lost in thought, when suddenly a flash of inspiration struck him.

Although he didn't have contact information for Steven Harris's parents, he still remembered where Steven Harris's home was!

At the very least, he could go to his house and take a look!

Even if all the classmates had forgotten his existence, at least Steven Harris's parents shouldn't have forgotten their own son!

Feeling a bit more settled, Michael Bolton quickly turned off the light, lay down on the bed, and went to sleep.

The next day, Michael Bolton woke up early. After brushing his teeth and washing his face, he greeted his parents and hurried out the door to catch a cab.

Today happened to be the weekend, so there should be someone at Steven Harris's home—as long as they hadn't moved.

Since graduating from high school, it had been years since Michael Bolton had visited Steven Harris's house.

Michael Bolton got out of the car and stopped at the gate of Steven Harris's apartment complex. He carefully checked the building and its location, and relying on his memory, found Steven Harris's building and entered the unit.

Third floor... on the left... this must be it! Michael Bolton recalled the scene of visiting Steven Harris's home years ago over and over, and after confirming it was correct, pressed the doorbell.

The doorbell rang again and again, and Michael Bolton's heart began to pound wildly.

Finally, after who knows how long, the door opened. A middle-aged woman answered, looking at Michael Bolton in confusion. "Who are you looking for?"

"Auntie! I'm looking for Steven Harris!" Michael Bolton was delighted to see the familiar face from his memory. He hadn't come to the wrong place—standing before him was indeed Steven Harris's mother!

However, Steven Harris's mother frowned, looked at Michael Bolton, and then shook her head. "You have the wrong place." With that, she started to close the door. Michael Bolton was stunned, quickly stepped forward, and reached out to block the door. "Auntie, wait!"

"What are you doing!" Steven Harris's mother hadn't closed the door yet, and a trace of wariness appeared on her face.