Author: Momo Chan

On our engagement eve, my fiancée Lily bankrupted my family and fled with Jeff. Creditors drove my parents to suicide. Seeking justice, I confronted the Grants—only to be drugged and sold in an elite poker game. A dozen men filmed my humiliation, breaking me completely. As I prepared to jump, Lily’s sister Claire saved me. She destroyed my tormentors, claimed she’d loved me for years, and married me in a lavish ceremony, cutting ties with her family. Five years later, I stood on that same yacht—and overheard Claire’s plan: “Jeff’s child alone will inherit. Ensure Ken can never father one. Same men as before—don’t hold back.” My salvation was hell. My love, a lie. Very well. She’ll get her wish. 1 On the deck, Claire stood against the sea breeze, her voice laced with a tragic, theatrical sorrow. “Since Jeff has already chosen my sister, the only thing I can do is clear the way for them. Bankrupting the Kauffman family was just the first step. Think of their company’s assets as my wedding gift to them.” She added, with a dismissive wave, “Ken is tainted goods now. He’s not fit to climb into my bed.” Her friend, Cici, frowned, a look of genuine pity on her face. “But you were the one who hired those men to drag him into that cabin five years ago. You know he’s been battling severe depression because of it. You’ve been with him through every therapy session. He’s a man, Claire. To be violated by other men, and now you want to put him through it again? How is he supposed to live with himself after this?” Claire’s expression hardened. “He’ll live. I’ll just have to comfort him through the therapy again.” “I promised Jeff that Ken would never be a threat to him. The only way to ensure that is to completely shatter his pride as a man.” “And what about Ken? Does he deserve to be manipulated like this? He’s innocent! He loves you so much, how could you—” “Enough,” Claire snapped, her voice like ice. “Just do as I said. It’s his own fault for being in the way.” “Give me the pills. I need to go watch him take them myself.” Seeing she couldn’t be reasoned with, Cici turned and walked away, a tear escaping her eye and vanishing into the night wind. I hugged myself, a violent tremor wracking my body. Five years ago. Lily bankrupted my family, taking all our money to start a new life with Jeff abroad. My parents, cornered by debt collectors, saw no way out but to jump. I went to the Grant estate alone, a boy demanding justice from giants. They drugged me and delivered me to this very yacht. A plaything in a dark game for the rich. A dozen men dragged me into a cabin, their jeers and the flash of their cameras burning into my memory. When it was over, I crawled onto the deck, ready to end it all in the cold, dark water. That’s when Claire appeared, pulling me into her arms. She was my only warmth in a frozen world. She gently wiped away my tears and the blood. “Wait for me,” she whispered. “Every person who hurt you… I won’t let a single one get away.” That night, the yacht was filled with screams. The trauma left its mark. I was plagued by night terrors, waking up drenched in sweat. And every time, she was there, stroking my back, whispering reassurances. She said she couldn’t control Lily, but she would repay Lily’s debt to me a hundred times over. To give me the wedding of my dreams, she broke away from her powerful family, declaring her love for me to the world. But it was all a mirage. Five years of happiness built on a foundation of lies. The one who pulled me from the abyss was the same one who pushed me into hell. I stumbled back to our cabin. Seeing my pale face, Claire’s eyes filled with alarm. She rushed to me, pulling me into that familiar, practiced embrace, patting my back gently. “Ken? What is it? Are you remembering things again? Don’t be afraid. I’m with you this time. Those men won’t ever hurt you again.” She held up a glass of water. “I had the doctor prepare your medication before we boarded. Drink it before the water gets cold.” I looked into her deceptively gentle eyes. “Claire,” I said softly, “I don’t want the medication anymore.” “I’m better now. I want to go home.” The warmth in her eyes chilled by a few degrees. She tugged at my arm, her voice a saccharine-sweet pout. “Come on, Ken, be good. Psychological issues can relapse so easily. The medicine will help you recover faster.” “Drink this, and the nightmares will go away.” Before I could protest, she had already pushed the pills into my mouth. The warm water went down, but a profound chill spread through my body. Certain I would soon be unconscious, Claire didn’t linger. She turned and hurried out of the cabin. I knew where she was going. To meet the men from five years ago. Shattered, nightmarish memories flooded my mind. A cold sweat broke out across my skin, and I collapsed onto the floor, writhing in silent agony. As my consciousness faded, I felt a warm kiss on my forehead. “Shh, Ken. It’ll be over soon. I’ll be waiting for you.” Then came the pain. A searing, tearing pain. Blood pooled beneath me. The horrifyingly familiar sensation of coarse, brutal hands on my skin enveloped me. I don’t know how much time passed before I heard Claire’s voice again, sharp and clinical. “Is he broken?” “He’s broken, Ms. Grant. But… they didn’t stop in time. I think they might have… gone too far. He probably won’t be able to… you know… ever again.” “Excellent. Double your fee. You can collect it when you disembark.” When I opened my eyes again, five hours had passed. Claire was holding my hand tightly, her eyes overflowing with anguish. “I’m so sorry… Ken. I failed to protect you.” “It was those men from five years ago. They heard you were here and came for revenge. You’re badly injured… the doctor said… you won’t be able to have intercourse anymore…” “But don’t worry,” she choked out, tears streaming down her face. “I’ve dealt with them for good this time. They’ll never appear again. Please don’t cry. No matter what happens, I’ll be by your side. We don’t need to do… that. I just need you.” I stared blankly at the ceiling, too numb to even feel the pain. I was the one who had been violated. Yet she was crying harder than I was. Her performance was flawless. And I was done being her audience. After a long moment, when her sobs subsided, I spoke, my voice a hollow rasp. “You must be tired… getting revenge for me.” “You should rest, Claire. I’m fine.” She seemed relieved by my lack of hysterics, closing her eyes and lying down beside me. Soon, her breathing evened out into a steady rhythm. Silently, I reached for her phone. In five years of marriage, this was the first time I had ever unlocked it. The password was Jeff’s birthday. Her messaging app was still open. There was only one contact pinned to the top. Jeff. I clicked on it. Their chat history stretched back five years. Not a single day missed their “good morning” and “good night” messages. Though Jeff was on the other side of the world, he sent Claire updates on his entire day. A picture of him shopping, drinking coffee, a selfie from a board meeting. Whatever he sent, Claire responded with enthusiasm and money. A single photo could earn him a ten-thousand-dollar reward. This was how she had remained a part of his life, one photo, one transfer at a time, until thousands of pictures filled a dedicated album. In contrast, whenever I tried to share something from my day, her reply was always the same: “Ken, I’m in a meeting. We’ll talk when I get off work.” To keep Jeff happy, she moved heaven and earth to get him gifts from exclusive auctions in Europe, shipping them across continents. The order history was a dizzying list spanning dozens of pages. I recognized a few of the brands. Claire had given me a gift from one of them once. It had been the freebie that came with Jeff’s purchase. The newest file in her photo album was a video, uploaded five hours ago. The thumbnail was a picture of me, unconscious after being drugged. Standing over me were a dozen familiar, leering faces. My hand trembled so violently I couldn’t press play. With a surge of cold fury, I deleted the video and closed her phone. Claire, if our beginning was a lie, then let me be the one to end it with another. Without hesitation, I messaged my friend, Mark, telling him to have a lifeboat waiting for me on the other side of the yacht tomorrow night. Then, I found a divorce agreement online, downloaded it, and attached it to a new email. Just as I finished, Claire stirred in her sleep, her forehead beaded with sweat. “Ken… no, you can’t…” she mumbled, her voice thick with panic. “Ken!” She shot awake, grabbing me and pulling me into a desperate hug, as if she had just gotten me back from the dead. Our chests were pressed together, but her heart and mine beat to two entirely different rhythms. After a moment, she seemed to pull herself back from the nightmare. “Thank God you’re okay.” This scene had played out countless times. I used to think it was a testament to her deep love, that she felt my pain as her own. Now, I saw it for what it was: a hollow, masterful performance. I let my head fall against her shoulder, allowing her to “comfort” me. “Shh, it’s okay. I’ll go get you some food. Wait for me.” The moment Claire left, I followed. She didn’t go to the restaurant. She went to a private suite on a lower deck. As she reached the door, a strong arm shot out, wrapped around her shoulders, and pulled her inside. I stood outside the door, listening as the sounds of breathing inside grew heavy and ragged. “Finally decide to come back?” Claire’s voice was a strained whisper. Jeff laughed, a cocky, arrogant sound. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her lips. “If I didn’t, I was afraid you’d actually fall for Ken.” “I hear you pulled the same trick again? After five years of marriage… leaving your husband impotent for life because of the ‘trauma.’ You’re really something else, Claire…” he taunted. “If Ken ever found out, he’d probably want to skin me alive.” Claire let out a small laugh, pulling him closer, her back against the door. “I told you, as long as I’m here, no one will ever touch you.” “Your happiness is all that matters. I’ll pave your path with his bones.” A passing crew member saw me and gasped. “Mr. Kauffman? What are you doing here? You’re not well, you shouldn’t be wandering around. If Ms. Grant finds out, we’ll be in so much trouble!” “Let me help you back to your room.” His words drew the attention of nearby guests, their eyes landing on me with open scorn. “Is that Claire Grant’s kept man? The one who just got dragged into a cabin by a dozen guys? I heard this is the second time it’s happened. Ms. Grant must have a strong stomach to put up with that.” “Twice? It’s way more than that. A dozen guys each time? Her husband’s been with more men than a porn star! She must be blind to have picked a guy like that. Imagine sleeping next to him at night, you’d probably puke.” “Who knows if he was forced or if he liked it? Probably not a saint himself. I mean, on a yacht this big, why is he the only one always getting into trouble? He looks decent enough, but turns out he’s a switch-hitter who plays for both teams. How disgusting.” … The words hit me like physical blows. My legs felt weak, and I nearly collapsed. Claire heard the commotion and opened the door to see the scene unfolding. Her face went white. She lunged forward, catching me just as my knees gave out. “Ken? What are you doing here?” “Are you feeling alright? Let’s get you back to the room.” I said nothing, my gaze fixed on Jeff, who stood just behind her. Fearing I’d seen him, Claire quickly explained, “Don’t get the wrong idea. Jeff just got back in the country. I just happened to run into him.” “It’s been five years since… that incident. He was afraid you’d be angry, so he stayed abroad. Now that he’s finally back… after all, we’re family. Maybe it’s time to let it go…” “But don’t you worry,” she added fiercely. “As long as I’m around, that little brat Lily will never set foot in our home.” “Yes,” I interrupted, my voice flat. “It’s in the past. I won’t bring it up again.” I knew what she was trying to do. Better to take the initiative myself than be backed into a corner. At least this way, I could maintain a shred of dignity. The gawking onlookers scattered at the sight of Claire. “Ken. Long time no see,” Jeff said with a smirk, flashing a limited-edition designer watch on his wrist. I gave a silent nod, swallowing the bitterness in my throat. “I just needed some air. Since you’re busy, I’ll head back. I wouldn’t want to cause you any trouble.” Thinking I was angry, Claire chased me back to the cabin, her eyes red with manufactured concern. Seeing the raw lust still lingering in her eyes, a bitter laugh almost escaped my lips. To clear the way for Jeff, she had drugged me and destroyed my life. Now that she had what she wanted, and I was living in a hell of public shame, who was this performance for? “Don’t worry,” I said, my voice devoid of emotion. “It’s been five years. I’ve forgotten all about it. It’s just… the cabin felt stuffy. It brings back things I’d rather not remember. I just went out for some air.” Claire let out a breath of relief. She personally wiped a nonexistent tear from the corner of my eye. After feeding me more medication, she left again, this time heading towards the main dining hall. Ten minutes later, a waiter slipped an invitation to a gala dinner under my door. I knew it was Jeff’s doing. But I went anyway. Before leaving, I dragged the suitcase I had packed to the railing and hurled it into the dark sea. At the gala, Jeff was the center of attention in a bespoke suit, exuding an air of effortless charm. He was introduced as a member of the Grant family by marriage. Everyone was buzzing, speculating about his relationship with Claire. The whispers followed them everywhere. Guests swarmed them, raising their glasses, praising them as a perfect match, a couple made in heaven. Claire, busy networking, didn’t notice me at first. But Jeff did. He walked over and led me out to a secluded balcony. His eyes scanned the fresh, purplish bruises on my neck. He smiled. “Ken. Five years, and you’re still the same useless wreck.” “So, how was it? Being dragged in there? You couldn’t protect your family’s company, and now you can’t even protect yourself. You’re a joke.” “You probably don’t even know, do you? Those men weren’t a random accident. Your beloved wife arranged the whole thing. While you were being stripped naked, she was right there, watching. I almost feel sorry for you!” A white-hot rage surged through me. Before I could move, Jeff slapped himself hard across the face, twice. As a scream pierced the air, he threw himself forward, toppling over the railing and plummeting into the sea below. He thrashed wildly in the churning water. I was still processing what had just happened when Claire shoved me violently to the ground. She didn’t even glance at me before diving in after him. When she hauled a sputtering Jeff back onto the deck, he looked at her with wide, wounded eyes. Claire’s gaze, when it finally fell on me, was stripped of all its former affection. “Ken, what the hell is wrong with you?” she hissed. “Is this what you meant by ‘letting it go’? Jeff knew what you’ve been through. He came to check on you, to try and clear up the misunderstandings from years ago, and you attack him?” I struggled to push myself up from the deck, my shirt riding up to reveal the angry red marks on my skin. My expression turned to ice. “Misunderstandings? What about the misunderstanding from five years ago? Don’t you think you owe me an explanation for that?” “If it weren’t for you, would I be in a position where I needed his pity?” Her brow furrowed, a flicker of panic in her eyes. “What is there to explain? You know what happened to your family’s company! I was the one who graciously took you in!” “And if you hadn’t disobeyed me and wandered off tonight, none of this would have happened! I can’t watch you every second of every day! If you go looking for trouble, why are you blaming Jeff? You should blame yourself for being so reckless!” “Ken, apologize to Jeff! Now!” Before I could speak, Jeff wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “Claire, don’t… don’t be so hard on him. The bankruptcy of his family… it was all my fault. I didn’t stop Lily in time. I’m the one who wronged him. Think of today as… my way of making it up to him.” “If he hates me this much, then maybe we shouldn’t see each other anymore. I don’t want you to be caught in the middle.” My fingernails dug into my palms, drawing blood. Watching them walk away, wrapped in each other’s arms, I knew. It was over. Five years of devotion turned to ash in that single moment. The crowd of onlookers buzzed with fresh gossip. “That’s the Grant family’s punching bag, right? The one who’s been passed around twice? He’s a mess himself, and he has the nerve to pick a fight with Mr. Cross? The nerve. At least Mr. Cross is clean. Not like him… God knows what kind of diseases he’s picked up!” “No wonder Claire never brings him out in public. She’s probably embarrassed. Imagine being a CEO, and your husband is a human pincushion who’s been with dozens of men. Tsk tsk tsk, it’s a disgrace to the Grant name!” “Mr. Cross and Ms. Grant are the ones who belong together. I heard they were college sweethearts. If he hadn’t gone abroad, this guy would never have had a chance. No one but Claire would be blind enough to marry him.”

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The son of the city’s wealthiest man was framed in a high-profile case. To let his little mistress shine, my husband deliberately lied to me about the court date. I arrived late, only to be blocked by the tycoon’s bodyguards and berated for my irresponsibility. Seeing through my husband’s scheme, I simply handed the role of lead defense counsel over to the other woman. “Since you’re so eager,” I said, “you’d better put on a good show.” My colleagues warned me not to be impulsive. This was a golden opportunity to impress the city’s most powerful man. But no one knew that I was the only lawyer in the entire country who could win this case. Even if the little mistress managed to argue her way through the first hearing, without me, her defense was doomed to fail. The tycoon’s son would still face prison. And my husband’s blind protection of her would only lead to his own ruin. 1 The son of our city’s top billionaire, Mr. Wallace, was ensnared in a meticulously planned frame-up, a major financial fraud case. One wrong move, and he could face the death penalty. But the day before the hearing, my husband, a partner at our law firm, told me the court time had been pushed back an hour, claiming the case files needed a final review. I had pulled a week of all-nighters for this case. But when I rushed to the courthouse, I was informed that a junior associate, Jenna, had already taken my place. Mr. Wallace, flanked by his bodyguards, cornered me, ready to tear me apart. “I trusted you! I hired you to defend my son, and you can’t even show up to the hearing on time! Do you have any idea what you almost did? You almost destroyed him!” I stood there, stunned. Just then, my husband, Mark, stormed out of the courthouse and laid into me as well. “Where have you been, Sierra?” “The hearing started, we were looking for you everywhere! Did you just forget about a case this important?” I stared at him in disbelief. What did he mean, forget? Wasn’t he the one who told me yesterday that the hearing had been postponed? Seeing Mr. Wallace seething with rage, I was about to explain when Mark cut me off. “It’s one thing to be absent-minded at home, but to get the time wrong for a court hearing? How did you even pass the bar?” he sneered. “Luckily, Jenna was available and stepped in at the last minute. This case can’t afford any mistakes. Did you stand us up because you wanted to drag the entire firm down with you?” In that instant, everything clicked into place. This whole elaborate charade… it was all for Jenna. Mr. Wallace was a titan of industry, his influence unmatched. Every lawyer, from junior associates to senior partners, was desperate for a piece of this case, a chance to get in his good graces and make a name for themselves. But Mr. Wallace had chosen me. I remember the day we signed the retainer agreement. Mark had been dripping with sarcasm. “Well done, Sierra. You act so high and mighty, so above it all, but you managed to talk Mr. Wallace into picking you personally.” “What a hypocrite. Always pulling strings behind the scenes, never giving the younger lawyers a chance.” At the time, I didn’t understand what he meant. Now, I did. Mark had deliberately made me miss the hearing so Jenna could have her moment in the spotlight. Just then, Jenna walked out of the courtroom. This case was far too complex for a single hearing, but from the look on her face, you’d think she’d already won. She put on a show of sweet concern. “Sierra, are you feeling unwell? Is that why you couldn’t make it? But for a case this important, you really should have given us a heads-up if you needed to take time off.” I watched her saccharine performance with cold eyes. As if she didn’t know exactly why I was late. Jenna then turned to Mark, her face a mask of apology. “Mark, I only stepped in because I was afraid the hearing would be delayed. I know as a junior associate I’m not qualified for a case like this. It was against the firm’s rules. You can punish me.” Mark smiled, completely ignoring my presence. “You did great. When it comes to a case, there’s no junior or senior. A dedicated and responsible person is what makes a truly good lawyer.” Watching the two of them, so wrapped up in their own little world, I could only laugh. Jenna was our junior from law school. I was the one who recommended her for a job at the firm. I had hoped she would bring some fresh energy, but instead, she spent her days flirting with the wealthy clients from our divorce cases. And at some point, she had gotten closer and closer to my husband. She was always calling him by his first name, her tone cloyingly intimate. During her probationary period, her mistakes nearly tanked our entire team on multiple occasions. But Mark always covered for her, saying, “Jenna’s still young. We should give her more support.” He and I had fought about it several times. “Were you perfect when you first started out? Can’t you give a newcomer a chance to make mistakes?” Even back then, I felt something in Mark slowly changing. Today, I finally saw him for who he truly was. I smiled at the two of them, a pair of scheming snakes. “In that case,” I said nonchalantly, “let her continue with the case.” Jenna immediately waved her hands in mock protest. “I’m just a junior associate! How could I possibly handle a VIP client’s case?” “Why not? Rules are made to be broken. Mr. Wallace was just praising your outstanding performance to me. You have a bright future ahead of you!” Mark looked at Jenna with pride shining in his eyes. “You’re going to be the star lawyer of our firm. I believe in you!” I let out a cold laugh and shoved my defense counsel ID badge into Jenna’s hand. She verbally refused, but her hand shot out and snatched it, as if afraid I’d change my mind. “Jenna must be exhausted. I’ll call a car to take you back to the office! I’ll order some barbecue later to celebrate!” Mark walked away with Jenna, not sparing me a single glance. Watching them walk away side-by-side, a bitter taste filled my mouth. A few minutes later, a post from Jenna popped up on my social media feed. “The luckiest thing in the world is when a dark horse meets a patron who believes in them. Thank you to my dearest mentor for giving me this chance. I’ll do my best!” The accompanying photo was of the two of them, giving a thumbs-up to the camera. A long string of likes followed. I glanced at it and silently locked my phone. A superficial victory in court meant nothing. I had studied this case inside and out. Mr. Wallace’s son was a classic scapegoat. These financial cases looked simple on the surface, but they involved a complex web of interdisciplinary financial knowledge, including niche topics like blockchain technology. If the defense lawyer lacked experience in these areas, the real culprits would exploit those loopholes, and we would lose. Combined with the high-profile nature of the defendant, it would be easy for the other side to use public opinion against us. But there were very few lawyers in the country who understood blockchain. I could say with confidence that I was the only one who could completely clear my client’s name. As for Jenna’s supposed victory? It was an illusion. The moment the other side made their next move and forced a second hearing, she would be crushed. She was desperate to make a name for herself in the legal world, but she didn’t understand that winning a case was about more than just reciting legal precedents from a textbook. After sending Jenna off, Mark came back to wrap things up. Seeing me still standing there, his face was a mask of impatience, all traces of his earlier gentleness gone. “I told you you couldn’t handle it, but you had to be so stubborn.” “Making a mistake like this in front of the court… you can forget about a promotion now.” “But you’re getting old anyway. It’s about time you took a step back and focused on taking care of our home.” He was always like this. He hated that I was strong, that I overshadowed him. But he never understood. I was just doing my job, fighting for every single one of my clients. Back at the firm, I found Jenna sitting in my office. “Sierra, a client of Mr. Wallace’s status probably shouldn’t be seen waiting in the main lobby. How about we switch offices? Oh, and by the way, could you please give me all the case files? It’ll help me prepare for the next steps.” The other lawyers in the office were openly staring, their ears perked for gossip. A junior associate being promoted to lead counsel was unheard of. And for the firm to tacitly approve it? Even more so. I could feel the pity in their eyes, as if they were all wondering how I would survive in the legal world now that I had offended a client as powerful as Mr. Wallace. I didn’t get angry. I simply gestured for her to take the seat. Just as Jenna was about to sit down, looking triumphant, I yanked the chair out from under her. She landed on the floor with a painful thud, her face contorting in pain. The office erupted in laughter. Mark saw what happened and rushed over, his voice booming. “What do you think you’re doing, Sierra? Are you trying to bully your colleagues now?” I just smiled coldly. Bullying? I wouldn’t dare. “I thought you had already familiarized yourself with the case. I didn’t realize you hadn’t even looked at the files before you went into court. Did you think this was a game?” “And another thing, this is a law firm. You earn your place in this office with skill, not by pulling strings.” My voice wasn’t loud, but it sent a ripple of chatter through the office. Everyone finally realized that Jenna’s sudden promotion wasn’t earned; it was a favor. I turned and walked away, not wanting to deal with them any longer. Mark, furious, chased after me, yelling about how irresponsible I was. “Someone like you doesn’t deserve to be a lawyer!” I ignored him, my face a blank mask as I left the firm. But honestly, it would be a lie to say I wasn’t hurting. A large part of the reason I chose to study law was because of Mark. His father was an alcoholic who would come home drunk and beat him and his mother. I remember him telling me when we were in high school that he wanted to be a lawyer, to open his own firm. He wanted to bring his father to justice, to save his mother from that hell. So, I chose law too. I specialized in family and criminal law, hoping I could be his support. When I told him my plans, Mark was moved to tears. He held me tight and swore he would never marry anyone else, that he would build a different kind of law firm with me, and that we would become a legendary legal duo. Then Jenna appeared.

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I woke up and stretched lazily. Then, with a jolt, I found myself wide awake, sitting upright in my office chair. I whipped my head around. A few of my colleagues were still hunched over their computers, their faces illuminated by the glow of the screens. I stared in disbelief for a long moment before it finally sank in. This wasn’t a dream. I had been reborn. It seemed even fate itself couldn’t stand what had happened to me and had given me a second chance. This time, I vowed, I would stay as far away from Aria Grey as possible. We would be strangers, worlds apart. I opened my laptop to type up my resignation. But then, the memories of my past life flooded back. In my previous life, at the end of June, there was a massive summer job fair. A man having a psychotic break had escaped his mother’s care, grabbed a knife from a fruit stand, and rushed into the crowded venue. In the chaos, many students, unable to escape in time, were left bleeding on the floor. The man eventually charged toward our company’s booth, heading straight for the CEO, Aria Grey. Everyone froze in terror. Everyone except me. I threw myself in front of her without a second thought. Even after the knife plunged into my abdomen, I clung to the attacker, refusing to let go. After the incident was contained, I was rushed to the hospital. The blade had pierced my spleen, and it had to be removed. Just as I was sinking into despair, convinced my life was over, Aria stunned everyone by proposing to me in front of them all. She promised to take care of me for the rest of my life. It felt surreal, but I said yes. After we were married, Aria’s care was meticulous. She practically insisted on feeding me every meal by hand. Without a spleen, my immune system was shot. I ran high fevers constantly, often spiking to 102 or 103 degrees. Aria would stay up all night by my side, bringing me water and medicine. I thought marrying a woman like Aria meant I must have won the cosmic lottery. But it wasn’t until I was on my deathbed that I learned the truth. She hadn’t married me out of love, or even gratitude. She had married me to leverage the fame my “heroic act” had brought, using my reputation to advance her career. Her greatest wish each day was for me to die sooner. Only my death would finally set her free. To that end, she had thrown away the specialized medication my doctor prescribed, replacing it with some counterfeit junk she’d gotten from who-knows-where. No wonder I had only lasted ten years in my past life. It had all been her doing. What a vicious woman. So this time, I had to get away from her. I had to escape this black widow. Snapping back to the present, I lifted my shirt and ran a hand over my stomach. There was no ugly scar. My spleen was still there, safe and sound. I still had a chance. And it wasn’t just about me. I had to save all those young people who died in that attack. They deserved a second chance, just like I got. I closed the resignation letter draft. For now, I had to stay. If I just quit, I wouldn’t have the resources or influence to stop what was coming. I needed help. With my mind made up, I took out a pen and paper to plan my next steps. Just then, a colleague tapped me on the shoulder. “Jay, do you ever check the work chat? The boss has tagged you like a hundred times.” My heart skipped a beat. I pulled out my phone. Sure enough, Aria had messaged me repeatedly. Why on earth would she be summoning me to her office for no reason? Filled with doubt, I went upstairs to see her. The moment I walked in, Aria looked up, her gaze locking onto mine. My treacherous heart began to pound. She was still so beautiful. Her long, wavy hair framed a face so perfect it could have been sculpted. No matter what, she had taken care of me for ten years in our past life. No sane person could just erase that. Seeing her again, I felt a sudden urge to cry. I took a deep breath, forcing myself to remain calm. “Ms. Grey, you wanted to see me?” Aria snapped out of her daze. She gestured for me to sit on the sofa and poured me a cup of tea. Alarm bells went off in my head. I had learned my lesson the hard way. Beneath that gentle exterior was a woman poisonous enough to murder her own husband. I watched her with a cold, guarded expression. Aria sat across from me, her voice soft. “You’ve been with the company for two years now. I want you to be in charge of this year’s summer job fair.” I was even more confused. Last time, the job fair was handled by HR. My department was only involved in the interviews. As the saying goes, when something is too strange to be true, it usually is. I refused without a second thought. “Ms. Grey, I know my own capabilities. I can’t handle that kind of responsibility. If there’s nothing else, I’ll get back to my work.” But her next words cornered me completely. “I’m not asking, Jay. I’m telling you. This job fair is extremely important. I’ve given it a lot of thought, and I believe you’re the only one in the company who is right for this.” My resolve wavered. I had just been racking my brain, trying to figure out how to get the company’s resources for my plan. Now, Aria was handing them to me on a silver platter. Fine. As long as I could save those people, a little interaction with Aria was a small price to pay. I just had to stay vigilant. I clenched my jaw and nodded. “Okay. Thank you for the opportunity, Ms. Grey.” Back at my desk, Aria quickly announced in the company-wide chat that I would be responsible for the job fair. She tagged everyone to make sure they saw it. A colleague sidled over, looking at me with wide eyes. “Man, we slave away day and night and never get a gig like this. The boss putting you in charge… are you about to get a promotion, marry an heiress, and live the dream?” I laughed bitterly to myself. Just like last time. After I married Aria, everyone thought I was the luckiest man alive. No one knew how my story ended. I wonder if they would still be so envious if they knew my short life had been personally cut short by Aria Grey. Whatever. No time to dwell on that. I had more important things to do. That afternoon, I drafted a plan and pulled everyone involved into a new Slack channel, sharing a list of required supplies. The channel immediately filled with skeptical comments. I had requested stab-proof vests, cut-resistant gloves, and riot shields. The HR department thought I was joking and demanded a meeting to explain myself. I agreed, knowing I’d have to come up with a damn good excuse to convince them. To my surprise, Aria showed up at the meeting. The head of HR was furious, accusing me of being on a power trip. I knew he was just angry that I was stepping on his turf. I calmly asked him to hear me out, then looked at everyone with a grave expression. “This year has the largest number of graduates ever. The venue will be packed. It’s best if we don’t have to use this equipment, of course. But we have to be prepared for any unexpected situations.” HR was about to argue again, but Aria suddenly raised a hand, silencing the room. “We’ll go with Jay’s plan. Everyone wears a vest. If you think it’s ugly, wear a jacket over it.” The room fell silent. I was just as surprised as they were. I had a dozen excuses ready, but before I could use any of them, Aria had made the final decision. Not wasting the opportunity, I made another suggestion: mandatory group fitness sessions for everyone involved until the job fair. In a crisis, being in shape could save a life. This time, everyone erupted. “Come on, Jay, don’t mess with us. Work is tiring enough without adding a mandatory workout. Besides, that’s our personal time. You can’t control that.” I tried to explain, but no one was listening, their voices a chaotic buzz of complaint. It was Aria again who slammed her hand on the table, demanding silence. “I support it. For the period leading up to the job fair, everyone involved can leave work early. I’ll rent out a gym. It won’t cost any of you a penny.” I was dumbfounded. I couldn’t figure out what was happening. Since I’d been reborn, Aria was like a completely different person, a total stranger. But it didn’t matter. I couldn’t be bothered to think about her. Once this job fair was over, I was quitting. We would go our separate ways and never see each other again. Just then, Aria’s hand came to rest on my thigh. “Go for it,” she whispered, her voice low. “Whatever you do, I’ll support you.” I flinched as if bitten by a snake, snatching my leg away. I turned my face, refusing to look at her. Aria froze for a second, her smile stiffening on her face. As I left the conference room, my colleagues’ stares were… strange. I knew what they were thinking, but what did it have to do with me? After everyone else had gone home, I stayed behind, continuing to flesh out the plan for the job fair. Whatever Aria’s reasons were for supporting me, I had no excuse not to make this perfect. The booths needed barriers—if acrylic wasn’t strong enough, we’d use stainless steel railings. The cost was her problem; my only concern was saving as many lives as possible. I don’t know how much time passed. Aria walked over and placed a coffee on my desk. “The job fair is still a few days away. You need to rest.” Her gentle voice sent me spiraling back to my past life. For ten years, she had used that same gentleness to deceive me until the very end. I looked down at the coffee and immediately pictured the discarded medicine boxes in the trash can. My heart felt like it was being gently torn open. A soft, agonizing pain. I pulled away from her touch, my voice tight with suppressed emotion. “Thanks for your concern, Ms. Grey, but I’m not going to die from exhaustion.” Aria didn’t say anything. She just sat there beside me, watching me with a blank expression. Her stare was making my skin crawl. I finally couldn’t take it anymore, snapped my laptop shut, and stood up to leave. She followed, linking her arm with mine. “The buses have stopped running. Let me give you a ride.” I wrenched my arm free again. “Don’t trouble yourself, Ms. Grey. I have legs.” Aria stopped in her tracks, a look of pure shock on her face. I walked away quickly, almost fleeing, desperate to get out of her sight. Why? In this life, there was no reason for our paths to cross, yet here she was, tangling herself up in mine again. I don’t remember how I got home. I just fell into bed and passed out. And yet, she was still there in my dreams. Aria was lying in my arms, murmuring things I couldn’t understand. I kissed her madly, again and again, until my own tears woke me up. I furiously wiped them away and looked out the window. The sky was getting light. That afternoon, we got off work at four. My colleagues were secretly thrilled. Who wouldn’t be happy about a paid workout session? Soon, the gym was filled with whoops and hollers as everyone tried to one-up each other. Ten minutes later, I turned off the treadmill and stepped off to catch my breath. Aria walked over, holding a towel to wipe the sweat from my forehead. For a split second, I was lost in a daze. Her upturned face seemed to merge with the image from my dream. But then I caught the sweet, floral scent on the towel and snapped back to reality, jerking my head away. Aria didn’t seem to mind. She handed me a thermos. “You can’t drink cold water right after a workout. I added some salt and taurine. It’s good for you.” I refused to look at her, glancing over my shoulder to see a few of my colleagues smirking in our direction. I didn’t want to make a scene. I pushed the thermos away and said in a low voice, “Thanks, Ms. Grey, but I don’t need you to worry about me. I know to drink when I’m thirsty and rest when I’m tired. I’m not an idiot.” I turned and walked away, leaving Aria standing there, looking lost. Her expression was so wounded. She just stood there, all alone, like an abandoned child. My heart gave a painful squeeze. But then I remembered her actions in our past life. This woman loved to play the victim to manipulate people. In the locker room, a few of the guys sidled up to me, their voices dripping with insinuation. “Who knew, Jay? You’ve got Ms. Grey acting like a little wronged wifey, wiping your sweat, bringing you water.” “Don’t even talk about it. We’re not so lucky. All we can do is be jealous.” I shot back, annoyed. “If you wanted a drink so badly, why didn’t you go ask her for it? See if it poisons you.” They all roared with laughter and wandered off, still joking. I was full of doubts, but I pushed them away. It was pointless to think about it. How could I possibly fall for the woman who had already killed me once? But Aria wasn’t giving up. It was as if she was incapable of understanding my rejection. She shadowed me everywhere, constantly bringing me food and water, telling me to take breaks. I stopped trying to figure her out. The job fair was almost here. The moment the organizers gave the green light to set up our booths, I rushed to the venue. Aria followed. She saw my red-rimmed eyes and the dazed look on my face. She took my hand, made me sit down, and started massaging my neck from behind. “I know how much this job fair means to you, but don’t try to carry it all on your own. I’ll always be by your side.” I didn’t pay any attention to her words. My mind was consumed with a single thought: What if I fail? What if I can’t save them? The closer we got to the event, the greater the pressure became. It was crushing me. Aria’s actions, instead of comforting me, only brought back the gut-wrenching pain of my past life. And in that moment, something inside me snapped. I shot to my feet, violently shaking her arms off me. “Aria! What the hell do you want from me! Do I have to scream the ugliest words imaginable at you before you’ll finally leave me alone?” “I don’t know what you’re thinking, or if I’ve misunderstood something, but I can promise you this: there is no future for us!” Aria was stunned. Her mouth opened, and then suddenly, tears were streaming down her face. She wiped them away fiercely with her sleeve, grabbed my arm, and pulled me into a corner. I shook her off, turning my head away. Aria grabbed my shoulders with all her strength, pinning me against the wall. She looked up at me, her eyes blazing. “Jay Chen, in our last life, when you were dying, you said you didn’t want to be my husband anymore. I thought you were just delirious from the fever, but you really meant it! You’re that cruel! We loved each other for ten years! Don’t you have any feelings left for me? I gave you my entire heart! What did I do wrong to make you treat me like this? Tell me! Just tell me, so I can finally rest in peace!” So, Aria was reborn, too. She knew everything about our past life. A rage so intense it felt like my chest would explode erupted inside me. “Aria!” I roared. “If you really loved me, then why did you kill me!” Aria looked as if she couldn’t believe her ears. “What do you mean, I killed you?” she asked, her voice trembling. I was dizzy with anger. I tried to push her away, but she clung to me like a woman possessed, wrapping her arms around my waist. “Tell me how I harmed you! I served you day and night, was that harming you?” The more I struggled, the tighter she held on. In a moment of madness, I grabbed her by the hair and crushed my lips against hers. Aria immediately went still, her lips parting to meet mine. I took the chance and bit her. She cried out in shock and let go. I gasped for breath and looked at her. “It was over the moment I died in our last life. I told you then, if there was a next life, I wouldn’t be your husband. Stop looking for me. There’s no future for us.” I turned and walked away, leaving her behind me, crying and screaming my name. I ignored her and went back to the booth, watching the workers install the final railing. So that’s why she supported my plans. She knew all along. She may have killed me in our past life, but at least she did one good thing in this one. It didn’t matter. My life was no longer hers to claim. As I was lost in thought, a colleague came to take over my shift. He hesitated, then asked, “I saw Ms. Grey run off crying just now. I called out to her, but she didn’t answer. Did you two have a fight?” I shot him a glare. “What does Aria crying have to do with me? I don’t care if she lives or dies.” My colleague just clicked his tongue and shook his head. “I don’t get what a woman like her sees in a stubborn mule like you. She’s got the looks, the body, and she’s a rich heiress. If I had a girlfriend like that, I’d slap myself twice before I ever started a fight with her.” His words sparked a strange flicker of anger in me, like I’d just caught someone prying into my private belongings. I shot him another hard look and left the venue. Aria’s car was gone. She had really left. A hot, dry wind blew, leaving me feeling strangely melancholic. When I got back to the company, she still wasn’t there. I sat at my desk, staring into space.

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The first day of my reincarnation, I realized the Memory-Wipe Potion was watered down. Not only did I have all my memories from my past life, but I also watched as a woman swapped me with another baby girl. Oh, hell no. The life of wealth and luxury I’d spent lifetimes of karma points to secure was being stolen right before my eyes? Not on my watch. Eighteen years later, a girl stormed into my family’s mansion, claiming she was my parents’ real daughter. I just smiled. This was my destiny, and no one was taking it from me. 1 After 800 years of brown-nosing the Administrator of the Afterlife, he finally took pity on me and granted me a chance at reincarnation. I sifted through the celestial archives for ages, finally cashing in lifetimes of good karma for one shot at a life of absolute luxury and happiness. I proudly presented the Fated Life file to the Administrator. “This one. She’s the one I want to be.” Just as I was giggling to myself about the worry-free future ahead, I saw her—a woman, her movements furtive, carefully swapping me with another baby in the nursery. Panic seized me. This could not happen. The second she was gone, I started screaming. I cried until my throat was raw, my voice a shredded mess. Finally, a nurse noticed. She gently scooped me up. “What’s wrong, little one? Are you hungry?” I wailed louder. “Not hungry? Did you wet your diaper, then?” I screamed my head off. “Then what is it?” I was sweating with desperation, wishing I could just open my mouth and tell her what happened. I pleaded, I begged, but all that came out was a pathetic, high-pitched cry. Just as I was about to give up, the head nurse walked in. “Wait a minute,” she said, her brow furrowed. “I don’t remember this baby being in this bassinet.” I stopped crying. And then, I let out a loud, happy gurgle, looking right at her. The sight made both nurses laugh. “What a smart little thing!” The head nurse checked the birth charts, comparing weights and times. Then, her face went pale as she swapped me back with the other baby. The younger nurse looked like she was about to faint. “Oh, thank god you noticed. I can’t even imagine the fallout from a mistake that huge.” The head nurse looked at her sternly. “You have to be more careful. This is the Clark Corporation heiress. If we’d sent the wrong baby home, we’d all be finished.” The stone in my chest finally dissolved. After that day, I never cried again. No one was ever going to steal my life. 2 Coming home with my parents to a sprawling mansion, I smiled with deep satisfaction. I was the heiress to the Clark Corporation. They named me Lila Clark. I also had an older brother, Leo, who was completely and utterly obsessed with his little sister. I’d chosen him specifically. In my last life, my brother had beaten me to death. This time, I desperately wanted a brother who would love me. When I was little, Leo, who was already in elementary school, would wait for me outside my kindergarten every single day. He’d always have a piping hot pretzel tucked inside his coat for me, leaving a red mark on his chest from the heat. When a boy at kindergarten pinched me, Leo rounded up his entire class and beat the kid half to death. When I was in middle school, girls would ask me to pass him love letters and little cakes. He’d throw the letters in the trash and give the cakes to me. “Lila” was the first and last word out of his mouth every day. Growing up steeped in so much love, I’d almost forgotten the chaos of my birth. But of course, on my 18th birthday, the other girl showed up to claim her prize. The party was a massive affair, held at our family’s five-star hotel. A string orchestra played on the main floor while guests mingled, champagne flutes clinking, all wishing me a happy 18th. The presents were stacked to the ceiling like a magnificent Christmas tree. Designer watches, luxury cars, someone even gifted me an entire oceanfront villa. A-list celebrities came to sing “Happy Birthday.” Every important person in the city was there. Luxury brands sent over custom-made gowns. A fleet of drones lit up the night sky, forming a portrait of my face and the words “Happy Birthday, Lila!” I was standing on a balcony, looking down at the glittering crowd below, when she burst in. A girl in a plaid shirt and washed-out jeans pointed a finger straight at my face and screamed, “I’m the real Clark princess!” Her birth mother had swapped us. “Lila Clark is a fraud!” The champagne flute was still in my hand. A shocked silence fell over the crowd. She said her name was Jenna. 3 It was the ultimate gossip-worthy moment. My mother glanced at my father. He shook his head frantically, holding up three fingers in a solemn oath. “I swear, I don’t know that woman! Lila is my only precious daughter!” A small smile played on my lips as I slipped into character. “Mom? Dad? What’s going on?” My mother wrapped a protective arm around my shoulders. “Don’t you worry, sweetheart. We’ll get to the bottom of this.” The next second, Jenna lunged, grabbing my arm and shoving me backward. I stumbled right into the seven-tiered birthday cake. Sticky buttercream ruined my custom designer gown. Gasps rippled through the guests. I struggled to my feet, dazed, and stared at the woman whose face was contorted with a furious jealousy. My parents rushed to pull me up, gently wiping the frosting from my face. My father’s voice was thunderous as he turned on Jenna. “I don’t care who you are! To cause such a scene at a Clark event… it’s clear your mother taught you nothing! Have you no manners?” Jenna seemed momentarily stunned by his authority, but then she latched onto his arm. “Dad! I’m your real daughter! This impostor should be thrown out! She stole my life for eighteen years! Why does she get a party like this?” Her eyes welled up with tears. She looked utterly pitiful. “Today is my birthday, too,” she sobbed. “And I’ve never, not once in my life, had a real birthday party.” My mother helped me up, her expression pained, before turning to Jenna with a rare, severe tone. “Let’s put aside the fact that you’ve come here with absolutely no proof. Even if you were our biological daughter, we would never acknowledge you after a stunt like this! You have no class, no decorum! Look at where you are!” My mother was always gentle; she never spoke harshly. This time, she was truly furious. But something felt off. Something was missing. Where was Leo? I hadn’t seen him all morning. Normally, he’d be glued to my side by now, telling me how beautiful his little sister looked. Thinking back, he’d been distant lately. Could it be? Did he already know about Jenna? My father shot a look at his assistant, who quickly took the microphone and tried to get the party back on track. The rest of us retreated to a conference room in the back. My parents’ brows were knitted with worry. The last eighteen years had been too perfect. This was the scene I had been waiting for. 4 I never knew the identity of the woman who had tried to steal my life. But I knew, with absolute certainty, that she would show up one day. Just as I was lost in thought, the door opened and Leo walked in. “Mom, Dad,” he said, his voice flat. “We’ve been pampering the wrong person for eighteen years. Jenna is our family. She’s my real sister.” Whoa. The brother I’d hand-picked for his sister-doting personality was malfunctioning? Then I remembered. He doted on his sister, not on me. Now that Jenna was his sister, I was just an obstacle. Heh. Interesting. Jenna, now sitting on the sofa, had dropped her aggressive act entirely. Tears streamed down her face, a picture of tragic beauty. She must have just learned the truth herself and rushed here to claim her family, completely losing her composure in the process. Rule number one of the Clark family: never, under any circumstances, tarnish the family’s reputation. In our circle, appearances were everything. My mother spoke first. “Leo! What are you talking about? Are you saying you knew she was your sister?” “Yes. The first time I saw her, I saw the birthmark on her arm.” “I saw it when she was a baby. I remember.” I remembered, too. During the brief time we were switched, my father had brought a five-year-old Leo in to see the new baby. He actually remembered. “So! Lila was the one who was switched!” For a moment, my parents were speechless. Leo pressed on. “I can’t let my sister live like that out on the streets. She has to come live with us.” The brother who had cherished me for 18 years spoke with such chilling detachment. My father sighed. “We need to investigate this properly. In the meantime, this young lady can stay at the villa upstate. After we have the facts, we’ll decide if she’s moving in.” My dear old dad! He was the best. Leo Clark! This means war! But Leo wasn’t done. “No! I won’t have Jenna living so far away! It’s not convenient for us to take care of her. You have no idea how hard her life has been! You haven’t seen the place she lives in!” My mother hesitated. “She can stay here, I suppose. It’s not like we don’t have the room. But Lila isn’t leaving. Even if she isn’t my biological child, I raised her for eighteen years. I won’t be separated from her!” Leo shot back, “Mom! She usurped Jenna’s life of luxury for eighteen years! It’s time for her to go back to where she belongs!” The adoration in my brother’s eyes was gone. In its place was a burning rage, directed at the person who had stolen 18 years of wealth and privilege from his real sister.

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The last thing I remember from my past life was the cybersecurity competition. The campus heartthrob my girlfriend was obsessed with submitted a security protocol identical to mine. Then my own sister went on a livestream to “expose” me, calling me a shameless plagiarist. The entire internet turned on me. Not even my own parents believed me. They told me I was a disgrace and would be better off dead. Eventually, I got sick and fulfilled their wish. I died. Then, I woke up, reborn on the day before the competition deadline. This time, I decided to hell with it all. I was leaving the country. But to my surprise, the campus heartthrob started to panic. 1 My eyes fluttered open. I was still in the university lab. A glance at the wall clock told me it was 2 AM, but the lab was still buzzing with the low hum of computers and the frantic energy of my classmates. I looked at the calendar. Exactly one week until the submission deadline for the cyber-defense competition. After pulling a series of all-nighters, I’d finally crashed for a few minutes. My teammate, Rachel, tapped me on the shoulder. “Kevin, if you’re hitting a wall, you should head home. A fresh mind works faster tomorrow.” I nodded, the full weight of reality crashing down on me. I was back. I had been reborn. Staring at the blinking cursor on my screen, I couldn’t help but be dragged back into the memories of my past life. I remembered the elation our team felt when we submitted our defense protocol to the competition organizers. That joy was short-lived. We were disqualified for plagiarism. An army of online trolls pointed out that our design was identical to another team’s. One of the key members of that other team had been uploading his code and thought processes to a public GitHub repository, amassing a legion of fans who worshipped his “genius.” I was hounded relentlessly by them. “What a shameless rip-off artist. His team just copied the entire open-source project. If I’d known it was that easy, I would’ve entered and won too!” “The nerve of this guy, not even trying to hide it. People like him should be blacklisted from the entire industry. And what kind of university churns out students like this?” “He’s still in school and he’s already willing to do anything for money. Imagine how corrupt he’ll be once he gets into the real world!” … But we knew it was impossible. Our entire team had brainstormed the solution together. How could a design born from the minds of several people perfectly mirror someone else’s work? But our disbelief didn’t matter. My own sister, Jessica, became the star witness for the prosecution. She hosted a livestream, meticulously comparing our code to the “victim’s” code, line by line. It looked like a perfect copy-paste job. The memory sent a jolt through me. I immediately opened my browser and searched for the “victim’s” GitHub profile. The avatar was a handsome, athletic guy. He already had tens of thousands of followers, with comments full of people calling him a “legend” and “the future.” His last post had been updated just five minutes ago. I clicked on it, and my blood ran cold. He had shared his latest design concept, complete with the source code. His logic, his code… it was identical to what I had just finished writing. Not a single character was different. For a moment, I wondered if I was losing my mind, if some cosmic system was playing a sick joke on me. The guy’s name was Ethan. He was a varsity athlete at our university, popular for his sunny good looks. The ultimate career path for graduates from our program was a coveted spot at Nexus Labs, the research division of a tech behemoth that sponsored our competition. A starting salary there could easily hit seven figures. A few days ago, Ethan had posted a bold declaration on the campus social network: he vowed to become a hacking prodigy in 30 days and land a job at Nexus Labs straight out of college. 2 Naturally, none of us in the computer science department bought it. But his fangirls did. And my girlfriend, Sophie, was one of them. More than once, Sophie had gushed to me about Ethan, about how handsome he was, how he had a perfect six-pack. I’d gotten angry, offered to break up and set her free. But she’d insisted he was just an idol, someone to admire from afar. She said I was the one she wanted to build a life with. Back then, I was a fool. Sophie was the daughter of our family’s housekeeper; we’d grown up together. She was always sweet, always there for me, and I believed she truly cherished our relationship. I had my faults, too. I spent most of my time buried in the lab. Sophie used to joke that my code was my real girlfriend, and she was just the other woman. But just now, on Ethan’s profile, I spotted a photo taken in a luxury hotel room. Reflected in the window were two figures. One was clearly my sister, Jessica. The other was just a partial image—a slender arm with a small, distinct scar on the fleshy part of her hand, right where the thumb and index finger meet. I knew that scar. It was Sophie’s. From the angle of the shot, it was obvious Ethan had intentionally framed Jessica in the reflection while cutting Sophie out. It seemed he wasn’t interested in her; she was just a backup. My gut screamed at me that Sophie and my sister were behind this whole twisted affair. But why? Why would they conspire with an outsider to destroy me? And how were they doing it? How was Ethan always one step ahead, getting his hands on my code the second I wrote it? Did they tamper with my computer? The thought sent a shiver down my spine. I immediately ran a diagnostic, searching for any monitoring software or spyware. I found nothing. Could it really be a coincidence? The competition’s main goal was to optimize security systems to better defend against foreign hackers trying to steal user funds. The current payment systems on the market already did this reasonably well. With that thought, I deleted all the advanced code I had written. In its place, I wrote out the code for the most common, standard solution currently available. I was curious. Would Ethan update his GitHub with this, too? Once that was done, I finally headed home. Just as I walked in, so did Jessica. Her eyes swept over me, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Well, well, if it isn’t our resident coding genius. How’s it going? Writer’s block finally setting in?” My parents had always favored the more successful child. Compared to my sister, that had always been me. She’d resented me for it her whole life. In my past life, I would have ignored her jab. But now, I was on high alert. How did she know whether my work was going smoothly or not? “Everything’s going great, actually,” I replied coolly. “If things go as planned, I’ll be taking first place again.” “Hah!” she scoffed, her conviction absolute. “No chance. You are not winning this time.” The sound of our bickering brought our father out of his study. He ran a small financial firm. In my past life, my stellar academic record—always first in my class, always winning programming competitions—had been his greatest source of pride. “He gets his brains from me,” he’d boast. I had even helped optimize many of the security systems for his company. But after I was accused of plagiarism, his attitude did a complete 180. He’d spat at me, disgusted that I had shamed him. He’d asked me why I still had the nerve to be alive, why I hadn’t just died. Later, he and Jessica had thrown me out of the house, leaving me to die alone and sick in a hospital. The memory made my fists clench. But now, my father was all smiles. “I believe in my son. He’s just like me, always a winner. Once your system is perfected, I’ll replace my company’s entire security protocol with yours. Think of the bragging rights!” I forced down the unease churning in my gut and nodded obediently, just like I always had. Jessica snorted and stalked off to her room. My father patted my shoulder, telling me to get some sleep. I agreed, but the moment I was in my room, I started tearing it apart, searching for hidden cameras. I found nothing. I logged onto my computer at home and checked Ethan’s profile again. His GitHub hadn’t been updated. Was I just being paranoid? Maybe. If I was, then great. I already had a breakthrough idea for the system optimization. I’d start fresh in the lab tomorrow. 3 The next morning, the first thing I did upon arriving at the lab was check Ethan’s profile. Still no updates. It really must have been a coincidence. A wave of relief washed over me, and I finally felt free to dive back into my work. I skipped lunch, fueled by the adrenaline of coding. The lines of logic flowed from my fingertips, and by the afternoon, the program compiled and ran flawlessly. I leaned back, stretching, a deep sense of accomplishment warming me as I looked at the screen filled with my work. Rachel, seeing I was finally done, came over, her face bright with excitement. “Kevin, you did it? Is it running? You’re amazing! What do you want to eat? We have to celebrate!” But a knot of anxiety was still tightening in my stomach. I couldn’t shake the fear that Ethan was about to pull something. “Anything’s fine,” I said. “Just grab something quick.” Rachel nodded and left to get food. The moment she was gone, I opened Ethan’s GitHub profile again. My heart stopped. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. His latest post contained the exact code I had just finished running. I refreshed the page, again and again, convinced my eyes were playing tricks on me. On the fifth refresh, a new post appeared. What I saw made my skin crawl. It was a photo. A photo of my own computer screen, with his GitHub profile open in the browser. He had captioned it: “Didn’t expect to get noticed by a competition heavyweight. Looking forward to seeing your final design!” The photo had clearly been taken by someone inside the lab. A cold sweat broke out on my skin. I whipped my head around, scanning the room. Everyone was hunched over their own keyboards, engrossed in their work. There was no way to tell who had done it. The comments under his new post were exploding. “Who’s that? Isn’t that the nerd who lives in the library and the lab? He’s all hard work, no real genius like our Ethan.” “Ethan, I heard he’s in the competition too. You should stop posting your code and ideas online. You never know who’s looking to steal them.” … No wonder I was so utterly destroyed in my past life. I was surrounded by enemies on all sides. “Kevin, food’s here. You look a little spooked, what’s wrong?” Rachel was back with takeout. “I’m fine. Just… tired lately,” I managed to say. I took a large bite of food, the warmth seeming to bring me back to life. I made a difficult decision. If everyone was so determined to see me lose, then fine. I’d quit. My life was more important. With my skills, I could get a great job even without this competition. With my mind made up, I went to find Rachel and told her my decision. She tried to talk me out of it, but seeing my resolve, she eventually relented. Though disappointed, she gave me a hug and told me to get some rest. I immediately booked a flight to Thailand, planning to just get away and clear my head. But just then, my phone rang. It was Sophie. Her voice was sharp with urgency. “I heard from someone on your team that you’re dropping out of the competition.” A chill went down my spine. “Who told you that?” I had just told Rachel. It was unlikely anyone else on our team even knew yet, but Sophie already did. She ignored my question and launched into an attack. “How can you be so irresponsible? A big competition like this is all about teamwork. You can’t just quit whenever you feel like it. Have you even thought about your teammates?” “Sophie, have you ever thought about me?” She was silent for a second. “…What about you?” “I think we should break up.” I hung up before she could respond. I was physically and mentally exhausted, and I didn’t want to be tangled up with her anymore. I grabbed my backpack and walked out. Right at the entrance, I saw them: Sophie, Ethan, and his entire team, rushing towards me. Ethan’s face was a mask of concern. “Kevin, you’re not misunderstanding things between me and Sophie, are you? There’s really nothing going on. And please, don’t quit the competition. I really want a chance to compete with you, fair and square!” Sophie added, with a reluctant pout, “Kevin, stop making a scene. Just stay and compete. I’ll spend more time with you from now on, okay? Besides,” she added with a cruel little smile, “you’ve been with me for so long. Who else would want you if we broke up?” I let out a cold laugh. “So now you’re telling me I can’t even break up with you or quit a competition?” Members of Ethan’s team started whispering. “Did he see Ethan’s code and realize he couldn’t win? Is that why he’s bailing?” “Totally. A naturally gifted guy like Ethan only needs to put in a little effort to crush someone like him.” I ignored them all, walking right past the group and heading for the airport. The online harassment I’d endured in my past life was far worse than this. Back then, I had lived in a state of constant paranoia, flinching every time someone looked at me on the street, half-expecting them to spit on me. This was nothing. 4 I had just arrived at the airport when my father’s call came through. He didn’t ask, he just started yelling. “Kevin! I heard you quit the competition! How could you run away like a coward? Do you have any idea how many people I told that you were guaranteed to be the champion? You get back here and compete right now!” There it was again. My father’s pride, his public image, was always more important than anything else. I didn’t have the energy to explain. Over the years, the prize money I’d won from competitions was more than enough for me to live comfortably for a while. The plane landed smoothly in Phuket. The moment I stepped onto the beach and saw the waves and the sun, a profound sense of peace washed over me. I spent my days sunbathing and drinking coconut water. Life was blissfully simple. No more all-nighters debugging code, no more anxiously refreshing Ethan’s GitHub to see what he’d post next. One evening, I got a call from Rachel. She had found a critical flaw in the design I had originally created. It could handle small-scale attacks just fine, but a massive, coordinated assault would cause the entire system to crash. Hackers could exploit that moment of collapse to drain user accounts. It was a massive security risk. In a real-world application, my code was a ticking time bomb. It needed additional layers of processing to be truly secure. I talked her through a potential solution, a new line of thinking. I could hear the “aha” moment in her voice as she understood. After hanging up, I browsed the news. I saw that my father had officially adopted Ethan as his godson. My father had always said he admired talent. It was true. His son had to be number one. If his real son couldn’t do it, he’d just anoint a new one. The news article quoted my sister, Jessica, crowing about how Ethan had already developed the most brilliant defense system in the world. Our family’s financial firm was about to upgrade its entire network. A flicker of curiosity got the better of me. I opened my laptop and, feeling like a spy, snuck a look at Ethan’s profile. His latest post was bursting with excitement. “The competition solution is complete! Full code below. All feedback is welcome.” The comments were a waterfall of praise for their “legend.” I studied his solution carefully. My blood froze. It was, bit for bit, the exact solution I had just described to Rachel. A chill ran down my spine. Had I been wrong all along? Was Rachel the one leaking my work? But why would she do that? My head was a chaotic mess. I decided to walk to a nearby temple, hoping to find some quiet. The moment I stepped inside, my phone rang. It was my sister. Her voice was frantic. “Kevin, you need to look at our company’s system, now! We’re getting flooded with calls from clients. Their money is just… disappearing from their accounts!” I had already taken a peek. The losses were around $50 billion.

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1 The first thing the renowned actress Ava Aniston did upon her return to this life was march into her agency and terminate her contract. “Ms. Aniston, the Starlight Gala is just around the corner. Are you certain you want to proceed with a forced termination now?” the agent asked, his voice laced with disbelief. “Once terminated, the stage name ‘Ava Aniston’ will be legally voided. You’ll vanish from public records, untraceable.” Ava didn’t hesitate. She pulled a black card from her purse and settled the exorbitant cancellation fee. “I’m certain.” “The termination is successful,” the agent said, a note of finality in his tone. “The paperwork will take ten days to process.” Ten days. The exact date of the Starlight Gala. In her last life, she had been desperately in love with her husband, Michael Croft. A year later, after a devastating car crash, she watched him pull her lead surgeon away from her operating table to save the life of another woman—the one who held his heart. Given a second chance, she wanted nothing more to do with him. Outside the office, Ava bought a one-way ticket to New York, departing in ten days, then wrapped her fur coat tighter and stepped into the waiting car. A blizzard was raging. Wind and snow battered the windows, a chilling draft seeping through the seams. She rubbed her icy fingertips together, her gaze landing on the massive digital billboard in the city square. A new face smiled down from the screen, a high-end luxury ring prominently displayed on her ring finger. A week ago, that billboard had featured Ava, the industry’s youngest Best Actress award winner. But her boss, her husband, Michael Croft, the CEO of Aura Entertainment, had personally ordered it changed. It now featured Seraphina Moss, the internet’s latest sensation, and the woman he truly loved. Ava’s eyes stung. She looked away, opening her phone. Her last social media post was a photo of her and Michael, their hands intertwined. The caption read: “To have and to hold, one heart, until we grow old.” Michael had been the first to ‘like’ it. The comments below were a tidal wave of blessings, all celebrating their picture-perfect love. “Knew I’d see a pic of the boss here! His own feed is a ghost town.” “Goddess-level beauty! And Mr. Croft is so handsome! But why is he in a full suit on a tropical island? Isn’t it hot?” “You must be new. Eight years ago, the Croft mansion caught fire. Michael was already out, but when he heard Ava was still inside, he ran back in to save her. She was fine, but he suffered major burns. He hasn’t worn a short-sleeved shirt since. Always buttons it to the top.” “Who doesn’t know he’s the ultimate husband? He bought her a two-hundred-million-dollar private island in the tropics just because she gets cold easily. I’d light incense every day if my husband was half as good.” “Other celebrity couples might fail, but not these two. He’s obsessed with his wife.” Ava’s lips twisted into a self-mocking smile. Obsessed? Michael had been cheating for six months. Countless nights he’d claimed to be “working late” were spent at Seraphina’s apartment, while Ava foolishly believed he was building a future for them. Her finger paused, then exited the comments. Her gaze fell on that last post, the one he had liked. He never knew that the classic poem she quoted had a devastating first line: I hear you have a second love, and so I have come to break it off. The car pulled up to their villa. The storm was fierce. Even with the butler holding an umbrella, snowflakes found their way to Michael’s eyelashes. The icy specks couldn’t hide the warmth in his eyes. “Ava, you’re back.” He reached for her hand to warm it, but she saw a woman’s hair tie on his wrist—one that wasn’t hers. A chill washed over her. Before she could refuse, his hand was already covering hers, his thumb gently stroking the back. “It’s Valentine’s Day,” he murmured. “I decorated the house. Come see if you like it.” The living room doors opened to a scene of calculated romance. The lighting was dim, the air filled with the scent of expensive candles. Ava walked to the dining table, but instead of her usual red wine, she asked the butler for sparkling water. Michael looked puzzled. “A change of taste?” Ava lowered her gaze, her eyes flickering for a split second towards her stomach. “Nothing. Just wanted to try something new.” Suddenly, Michael’s phone buzzed. He glanced at it and quickly declined the call. But it buzzed again, relentlessly. He shot Ava an apologetic look before answering. His face changed. “Sorry, Ava. Something urgent came up at the office.” Ava sipped her water. It tasted bitter. “It’s fine. You should go.” He leaned in and kissed her forehead. “I’ll handle it quickly.” She watched him disappear into his study, her eyelashes trembling. She knew what “urgent business” this was. In her past life, she had caught a glimpse of his phone that night: it was a picture of Seraphina, dressed in a nurse’s uniform. 2 Ava silently opened her laptop and navigated to Seraphina’s livestream. A comment flashed across the screen: “He’s still not answering? Babe, you sure your man isn’t with someone else?” Seraphina reapplied her lipstick, then stood to show off the curves accentuated by the tight nurse’s outfit. She smirked. “He’s probably just held up by some stray dog on the road. Can’t be helped, he has such a big heart.” As if on cue, a username—ForSera—appeared in the chat, gifting 100 virtual “castles.” A message followed: “Darling, don’t wear that for the stream.” The word “darling” felt like a boulder crushing Ava’s chest. Seraphina’s face lit up with a coy, triumphant smile. “I just wanted to make you jealous,” she pouted. “Besides, you didn’t spend Valentine’s with me. You can’t blame me for a little revenge, can you?” Michael said nothing more. Instead, ForSera gifted 9,999 of the most expensive “Cosmic Hearts.” Then, another message: “There’s one more gift. Look outside your window.” A series of deafening booms echoed through the night as fireworks exploded, illuminating the sky. Ava could see them from her own window. Seraphina’s livestream ended with her beaming, basking in the glow of a love that gave her the confidence to be reckless. “Sorry, everyone! My boyfriend is a little too possessive. Gotta go!” Back in the dining room, the steak grew cold. The candles were nearly burnt out. As Ava finished the last of her sparkling water, Michael finally emerged from the study. “That was Director Hayes,” he said. “I’ve secured the lead role for you in his new film.” Director Hayes was a legend, known for his critically acclaimed art-house films. A role in his movie was a guaranteed award. If she hadn’t just watched the livestream, she might have actually believed him. Ava was silent for a moment. “His films are mostly arthouse. They often have nude scenes. You don’t mind?” Michael paused. “Of course not. I’m not that petty.” No, she thought. You save all your possessiveness for her. The death of love always begins with the death of jealousy. “Tell him I’m passing,” Ava said, her voice flat. “I want to take a break for a while.” “Alright,” Michael replied, his tone gentle again. “We’ll find you something else next time.” There would be no next time. In ten days, she would be gone forever. That night, Michael held her as they slept, warming her cold hands and feet as he always did. The image of Seraphina’s billboard flashed in her mind. “Seraphina has only had a couple of minor roles,” Ava said, feigning casualness. “She’s barely transitioned from being an influencer. How is she getting so many major endorsements?” Michael’s body tensed. “Her boyfriend must be promoting her,” he said smoothly. The words “her boyfriend” were a sharp, physical pain in Ava’s chest. She gripped the corner of the duvet. “Is it really a good idea for Aura to sign her? What if she wants to get married, or have a baby? Can she afford the breach of contract fee?” “Her boyfriend loves her so much,” Michael said without hesitation, “he would definitely pay the fee for her. And marry her.” He paused, perhaps realizing how certain he sounded. “I’ve met him,” he added. So that was it. That was his real plan. All Seraphina had to do was say the word, and he would abandon everything to be with her. What, then, was their history? A ten-year dream? Ava said nothing more. In the darkness, silent tears traced a path from her eyes to the pillow. Once Michael’s breathing evened out, she slipped out of his arms and went to the study. Moonlight streamed in, casting a lonely glow on her frail figure. Her eyes fell on their university graduation photo on his desk. A bitter laugh escaped her. From the time she was a little girl, her goal was clear: become the most famous actress in the country. It meant being beautiful, talented, and fit. No scandals, no romance. She had been disciplined for eighteen years, ready to dedicate her life to her art. Michael was the one exception she had made. The day they got together, he’d told her, “Ava, I’ll never make you regret this. I’ll make you the happiest woman in the world.” Apparently, that promise had a ten-year expiration date. Ava opened a drawer and pulled out the divorce papers. With a steady hand, she signed her name. Michael, she thought, when you realize in ten days that you can never find me again, will you feel even a flicker of regret? 3 The next morning, Ava went to the city’s most private hospital. Michael called. “The driver said you went to the hospital. Are you feeling unwell?” “It’s nothing. Just my usual cycle issues.” Ava closed her eyes and tore the paper in her hand into tiny pieces, dropping them into the trash. On one of the fluttering scraps, two words were printed in stark red ink: Pregnancy Confirmed. After hanging up, Ava’s hand instinctively went to her stomach, and memories flooded back. When they were young and struggling, Michael had acted as her manager, drinking with investors until he vomited blood just to get her a ten-minute supporting role. She had spent three days filming in freezing water, her body aching, but she never gave up on the chance he had fought for. That night, in their tiny, cramped apartment, he’d shaken her awake, his face filled with a panic she’d never seen before, not when investors belittled him or his family berated him. “Ava, you’re bleeding.” They had lost the baby. A doctor told them the fetus had already started to form. Their tears fell together. “I’m so sorry, Ava,” he’d sobbed, holding her tight. “It’s all my fault. I promise, it will never happen again.” The second time she got pregnant, she told him the good news. His response was two cold, emotionless words. “Get rid of it.” Seeing her shock, he’d added, “Ava, you’re at the peak of your career right now. We’ll have one next time.” But “next time” never came. “Ms. Aniston, are you sure you want to terminate?” The doctor’s voice pulled Ava from her memories. He frowned at the test results. “The fetus is developing very healthily. But your body is quite weak. If you terminate this pregnancy, you may never be able to conceive again.” Ava’s heart stuttered. In her last life, Michael had brought her to this same hospital. He’d told her the fetus was unhealthy, and the doctor had recommended an abortion. After that, she was never able to get pregnant again. It was the biggest regret of her life. She looked down at her still-flat stomach. She could feel a life growing there. Heaven had given her a second chance, and with it, this child. This time, she wouldn’t let go. The snow outside had stopped. Sunlight filtered through the clouds, but it couldn’t illuminate the desolation in her eyes. “Thank you, doctor. I’m keeping it.” New York, she thought, must have plenty of single mothers. The next day at the office, her manager, Catherine, rushed over, beaming. “Ava, Mr. Croft got you the Velocity endorsement!” Velocity was a high-end sportswear brand. The campaign would involve intense physical activity. Ava’s face hardened. She went straight to the top floor, to Michael’s office. But she froze at the door. Seraphina was just coming out, a small, red mark visible on the pale skin of her neck. “Ava,” she purred. “Ava, what are you doing here?” Michael sounded flustered, quickly buttoning his collar. There was an edge of blame in his tone. Ava’s breath hitched. She pushed past Seraphina. “Turn down the Velocity deal. I’m not taking any new projects for a while.” Michael frowned. Ava was a notorious workaholic. Even when “resting,” she only ever paused film projects, never endorsements. “Ava, are you sure it’s just your cycle? Are you hiding something else from me?” She froze, but her voice was steady when she replied. “It’s nothing, really.” He finally relaxed, taking her hand. “You should stop taking those birth control pills, then. Let your body recover. If you get pregnant, we’ll have the baby. I’ll take good care of you both.” Ava nodded silently. He had said the same thing in her past life. But when she was actually pregnant, he had dragged her to the hospital without a second thought. Michael, do you have any idea that I took eleven bottles of birth control pills last year alone, all for you? You’re the one who forced me to abort our child. You don’t deserve to be a father. 4 There was a knock on the door. Seraphina’s manager came in. “Mr. Croft, Seraphina’s schedule needs your signature.” “You go ahead,” Ava said. “I’m going home.” Halfway to the elevator, she realized her left earring was missing. She retraced her steps back to Michael’s office. Through the heavy wooden door, she heard his irritated voice. “I told you not to bother me when Ava is here.” Seraphina’s voice was a playful pout. She was sitting on his lap. “Michael, don’t be so harsh. She’s the one who interrupted our fun.” Her voice turned sultry. “I wore this especially for you. Don’t you want to see?” There was a pause, then the sound of a sharp intake of breath, followed by soft, heated moans. The cold metal of the door handle seeped into Ava’s palm, spreading through her veins until it reached her heart. Even knowing what he was, hearing it with her own ears was like a knife twisting in her gut. Her fingers turned white as she pulled out her phone and dialed his number. The phone inside the office rang for half a second before being silenced. No hesitation. Ava’s heart went numb. She walked away, a zombie in her own life. Two hours later, he called back. “I was in a meeting. What’s up?” The lie was so blatant it was almost funny. “Nothing,” she said, her voice smooth. “I dropped an earring, but I’ve found it now.” You’re the better actor, Michael. The awards should all go to you. Two days later, at a family dinner, Michael’s mother deliberately turned the lazy susan just as Ava reached for a piece of fish. “You eat so much, but you still haven’t produced an heir. Even a dog would have had a litter in ten years.” “Do you know what they used to call ‘stars’ in ancient times?” his father chimed in, his disgust unconcealed. “Actors. Performers. Things to be gawked at. Your priority should be to quit your job and give this family a son!” “I will,” Ava said finally. “I’ll be retiring.” And in five days, I’ll be leaving with my baby forever. Michael squeezed her hand. “Dad, Mom, don’t pressure her. We’ll figure out the baby situation.” Just then, Seraphina appeared at the door, holding a bottle of expensive ginseng wine. “Mr. and Mrs. Croft,” she said, beaming, “I felt such a connection with you both. If you don’t mind, I’d love to be your goddaughter! Ava is so busy, not like me. I just want to be here for you.” Michael’s eyes went cold, but his father laughed. “I wish I had a daughter-in-law as thoughtful as you! Not like some people who can’t take a hint!” His mother patted the seat beside her. “Come, dear, sit with us.” In ten years of marriage, they had never once invited Ava to sit beside them. “This is a family dinner,” Michael said, his voice dangerously low. “You shouldn’t be sitting there.” Tears sprang to Seraphina’s eyes. She shot Ava a resentful glare and left. Michael looked like he was about to follow, but seeing Ava still quietly eating, he stayed, though his attention was clearly elsewhere. His parents’ criticisms rained down on her again. Finally, Ava stood up. “I’m not feeling well. I’m going home.” She left so quickly Michael didn’t see the look on her face. It wasn’t until she had locked herself in a bathroom stall that she finally let herself collapse, the tears she’d been holding back breaking free. She dug her nails into her palms. Don’t listen. Don’t look. Don’t care. The doctor said stress is bad for the baby. They don’t want you. It doesn’t matter. The baby is your only family. Suddenly, a notification popped up on her phone. Seraphina had posted a photo from the dinner, tagging Ava. Having dinner with my boyfriend’s family and ran into my idol, Ava Aniston! What a coincidence. Though no faces were fully visible, Ava recognized the private room, the table setting, the back of Michael’s head.

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My father loved my mother desperately. And because of me, she died. Later, my father adopted another daughter. A girl who looked so much like my mother. On our sixteenth birthday— He paraded his adopted daughter around like a princess, while I was mistaken for the housekeeper’s child. Just then, my phone rang. “Happy birthday, my love! “It’s been so long. Mommy misses you so, so much!” My world stopped. My mother was back. 1 I was about to wash the car for Isla’s friend, on her command, when my father, Matthew Backman, came home. His assistant followed behind him, carrying an exquisite crystal castle—a gift for Isla. A chorus of gasps and envious whispers erupted from Isla’s classmates. Then, I heard my father’s voice, thick with a doting affection I hadn’t heard in a decade. “A castle for my princess,” he said. “Happy birthday, my one and only little princess.” His one and only princess. I chewed on those words until they turned sour in my mouth. Today wasn’t just Isla’s birthday. It was mine, too. But just like every year before, I got nothing. Because in my father’s eyes, I was a sinner. I didn’t deserve a birthday. I was the one who killed my mother. 2 Ten years ago today, my mother got into a car accident on her way to buy me the strawberry cake I’d been craving. She left us forever. And from that day on, Matthew hated me. At her funeral, he announced to everyone, “As of today, Lynn is no longer my daughter.” I crouched on the floor, blinking my red-rimmed eyes at him, lost and confused. I was too young then to understand the finality in his voice. Only later, as I grew up, did I realize how absolute his decree had been. His company went public. His net worth skyrocketed. And with his new fortune, he adopted Isla. From then on— His affection was for Isla alone. Isla lived in the master suite of our mansion; I was given the maid’s quarters. A chauffeur drove Isla to and from her elite private school. I took the city bus. Her closet overflowed with new clothes. I wore her cast-offs. Isla was the princess. I was the live-in servant. And he was right. I was a servant with no parents to call my own. 3 But I wanted to be a princess, too. I remember, a lifetime ago, he promised me I would be. Back then, my mother was still alive. His company was just a fledgling startup, and the three of us were crammed into a small two-bedroom apartment. To support him, my mother would secretly transfer the gift money my grandfather gave me into his bank account. “Lynn and I don’t need much,” she would tell him, her voice a soft reassurance. “Don’t you worry.” I loved to parrot her words. “Daddy, don’t worry,” I’d chirp. “Lynn’s piggy bank… it’s all for you…” He’d break then, leaning down to press his face between ours. A moment later, hot drops would fall onto my chubby cheeks, tickling me. Looking back, I know they were his tears. Before I turned ten, he used to tell me all the time: “When Daddy makes it, when he makes a lot of money, I’m going to make my little girl a princess, okay?” See? He promised. But he broke it. A sharp, condescending voice pulled me from my thoughts. “Excuse me, maid girl, aren’t you going to wash my car? Or do you think you can ignore me just because I’m only Isla’s classmate?” Isla attended a prestigious international school. Her friends were all heirs and heiresses, and they acted like it. But I wasn’t a maid. I glared at her, about to retort. And then— My father’s voice, cool and indifferent, cut through the air. “Why haven’t you gone?” Why haven’t you gone? The words hit me like a sledgehammer to the chest. How could I forget? In his eyes, that’s exactly what I was. “Right away.” 4 Matthew had made it clear: if I ever displeased him, he would cut off my tuition and living expenses. But I had promised my mother I would get into the best university. I couldn’t break a promise to her. So, as long as he continued to pay, I would endure anything. I bit my lip and turned to leave. A moment later, a deceptively sweet voice drifted from behind me. “Daddy, maybe we should let Lynn blow out the candles with us? It’s her birthday, too. She was really looking forward to it. She even secretly tried on my new evening gown yesterday…” My brow furrowed. I spun around, ready to deny it. But a wave of disdainful murmurs had already started. “Oh my god, a servant who dares to steal her master’s clothes.” “Isla, did you have that dress disinfected?” “Unbelievable.” “So she’s a little thief.” 5 Hearing them, I almost lunged forward. I wanted to smash Isla’s face into the cake, to make her choke on her own lies. I admit it. Last night, when she was showing off her new dress, I was envious. But that was all. Just envy. I never touched it… I am not a thief. My eyes burned with rage, but I didn’t dare move. Because Matthew, as if sensing my intent, had already stepped in front of Isla. He looked at me, his face a dark cloud of contempt, hatred, and chilling indifference. “How could she have a daughter like you?” he hissed. “Apologize. Or you can drop out of school tomorrow.” The threat again. Always the threat. A bitter laugh escaped me. “How could she have a husband like you?” The words hung in the air. Matthew’s face went black. I had never seen him look so terrifying. 6 CRACK! The sound of the slap echoed through the grand living room. After years of ignoring my existence, this was the first time he had ever laid a hand on me. Within moments, my right cheek was swollen and hot. Rage and pain warred within me. But what could I do? I was sixteen years old. I had a father in name only. A father who ignored me. Hated me. Threatened me. Hit me. It was true. He didn’t love me. Not one bit. And just then, Isla, feigning confusion as if her “good intentions” had gone wrong, rushed over to mediate. “Daddy, it’s normal for girls to like pretty dresses! I didn’t mean it like that!” Then what did she mean? Whatever. It didn’t matter. The blow had already landed. Nothing else could hurt me now. So, Slap. Slap. Slap. I struck Isla three times, hard across the face. “That,” I said, my voice shaking, “is the price for your lies.” 7 After I hit her, Isla wilted like a trampled white lily. “Lynn!” Matthew’s face contorted with pain as he looked at Isla’s tear-streaked, disheveled face. He personally helped her to her feet, his voice a gentle caress. “Does it hurt? Daddy will call a doctor right away.” Isla covered her cheek, tears streaming down her face. “I’m okay, Daddy. Please, don’t blame Lynn. I’m begging you—don’t hit her again.” Her classmates, snapping out of their shock, began to chastise her for being “too kind.” They all urged Matthew to kick me out. Kick me out. The irony was as bitter as it was tragic. I lifted my head, and for the first time, I met Matthew’s eyes directly. I saw the absolute, glacial coldness in their depths. His voice was devoid of all emotion. “Lynn. I’m sending you to an orphanage. From this day forward, you are never to set foot in this house again.” An orphanage. I was satisfied. I was already an orphan, after all. And I could still go to school from there. It was a thousand times better than staying by his side. …A moment later, Matthew’s assistant was at my side, gesturing for me to leave. I turned and walked away, my stride confident. I wouldn’t miss this place for a second. But I’d only taken a few steps when my pocket began to vibrate. My phone. I wanted to ignore it. But the buzzing persisted, a rhythmic knocking against my heart. Finally, I pulled it out. I glanced at the caller ID. And my world froze. I couldn’t believe it. I blinked hard, again and again. Mom. “It’s Mom!” I whispered, my feet rooted to the spot. The assistant urged me on. “Hurry up, Mr. Backman doesn’t want to see you anymore…” I ignored him, my hand trembling as I answered the call. I knew it was impossible. My mother was dead. It had been ten years. This number had been silent for a decade. Was this some kind of cruel prank? Even so… I answered. But I couldn’t speak. My mouth hung open, my mind blank. Then, a voice came from the other end. A voice I knew better than my own.

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1 On the eve of the speed skating finals, my boyfriend, to secure a spot on the national team for his childhood sweetheart, broke my leg. He’d done it before. He once locked me in a bathroom so I’d miss the initial team tryouts. When I finally arrived, breathless and frantic, the selection was over. “You’re a natural talent,” he’d said with infuriating nonchalance. “What’s one more year?” Now, it was the Winter Olympics. His precious sweetheart, Hailey, needed a chance to shine, to make a name for herself in the relay. So he decided to create one for her. By shattering my future. … A fierce wind howled across the hospital rooftop. I was surrounded, trapped. “Barry, please,” I begged, my voice swallowed by the gale. “Let me go. The finals are tomorrow. My legs… I can’t get hurt.” I was on my knees, pleading with the man I loved. My parents died when I was young, leaving me with my grandmother. She had been a speed skater, a rising star whose career was cut short by injury. Her dream, the one she never achieved, was to win a gold medal for our country. She saw her dream reborn in me. I had her talent, her passion for the ice. She poured everything she had into my training, shaping me into a short-track speed skater. Now, even with her own health failing, she never missed a single one of my races. It felt like fate, like the universe was rewarding her devotion. I excelled on the ice, surpassing even her own legacy. The national team had been in a slump, but my arrival reignited the nation’s hope. I was the favorite to win gold. Tomorrow’s final wasn’t just a race. It was everything. I couldn’t bear the weight of a nation’s disappointment. Even more, I couldn’t bear to see my grandmother’s dream die with me. And now, my boyfriend, Barry, was about to break my leg so his childhood sweetheart, Hailey, could take my spot in the relay. Even though it meant I would miss the individual finals, too. Barry’s expression was unreadable. He looked at me with a sort of weary patience, as if I were a child throwing a tantrum. “Anita, don’t be like this,” he said, his voice maddeningly calm. “With you in the lineup, how is Hailey ever supposed to get her moment in the spotlight?” “You’re a prodigy. Winning gold a few years from now won’t make a difference for you. But Hailey’s not like you. She’s been waiting four years for this. An athlete’s career is short. She needs this chance.” I stared at him, my mind reeling. The absurdity of his words was a physical blow. An athlete’s peak is fleeting. No one, not even a prodigy, can stay at the top forever. Her four years were precious, but mine weren’t? My mind raced, searching for an escape. As Barry raised the hammer he was holding, a desperate idea struck me. “Barry, wait! Listen to me!” I cried out. “If you want Hailey in the relay, I can do it! I’ll tell the coach I need to focus on the individual final. I’ll withdraw. She can take my place!” Tears streamed down my face as I looked at him, my voice thick with sincerity. He hesitated, the hammer lowering slightly. A flicker of hope ignited in my chest. “The roster isn’t set yet! We can still change it!” I pressed on. “All I want is the final tomorrow. I’ll even retire after the race, I swear. You know I always keep my word, Barry. Please, just let me go.” He was wavering. The hammer was almost down. Then, Hailey appeared at the rooftop entrance. “Barry, are you done yet?” she whined, her voice laced with impatience. “I need to get back and rest. I have to be in top form.” He didn’t even flinch at her tone. Her presence was all it took. The hammer in his hand rose again. “I can’t risk it, Anita,” he said, his voice hardening. “Hailey’s mother was very good to me. I owe it to her to help Hailey achieve her dream.” His eyes met mine, a flicker of something that might have been regret, or maybe just pity. “It’s okay, babe. Even if your leg is too injured to skate again, it doesn’t matter. I’ll take care of you.” He nodded to the two burly men standing behind me. They grabbed my arms. “To make her dream come true, you have to break my leg?” I screamed, struggling against their grip. “Hailey, you’re a coward! You can’t win on your own, so you resort to this! And you, Barry… I hate you!” 2 I kicked and thrashed, trying to keep them away from my legs, trying to give Barry no clear shot. But I was a fish on a chopping block. It was useless. My resistance only hardened his resolve. More men came forward, pinning me down until I couldn’t move. Someone tried to cover my mouth. “Don’t you dare touch her like that!” Barry snapped. Then his voice softened as he looked down at me. “Don’t be scared, Anita. This will be quick.” He was right. It was quick. Before I could even process it, a bolt of white-hot agony shot from my leg to my brain. “Aaargh!” I screamed. As the men released me and I crumpled, clutching my shattered leg, Hailey’s voice floated down, light and airy. “Is that really enough? Anita is so tough. What if she gets a cortisone shot tomorrow and skates through the pain?” My vision swam with red. I glared at her, my hatred a physical force. An injury like this… a cortisone shot would do nothing. She had to know that. She didn’t just want me out of the race. She wanted me off the ice. Forever. But Barry didn’t know that. Or maybe he just didn’t care. “Then we’ll break it,” he said. Hailey widened her eyes, a perfect picture of innocence. “Oh, but won’t that hurt her terribly?” He waved a dismissive hand. “It’s fine. A clean break, and there’s no way she can compete. Besides,” he added, “even if she can never skate again, my family can afford to support her.” Hailey looked down at me, a smirk twisting her lips. “Well then, thank you, Barry.” And with that, she turned and left. She couldn’t be seen here. If I was found injured, she needed to have an alibi. Barry knelt beside me. “Don’t worry, babe,” he whispered, his voice a gentle caress. “I’ll take care of you for the rest of your life.” His words were a terrifying promise. The men lifted my leg, holding it steady. Barry raised the hammer high. He met my terrified gaze and brought it down. Hard. “Aaaaaaaargh!” The scream was torn from my throat, raw and primal. My leg was broken. Utterly, completely broken. I stared at the grotesque angle of my right leg and my world shattered. It was over. A decade of blood, sweat, and tears. My grandmother’s lifelong dream. The hopes of my team, my country. All of it, gone. Hot tears streamed down my face, mixing with the dirt and grime. I was a broken, pathetic mess on the cold concrete. A flicker of something—pity? regret?—crossed Barry’s face. He moved to pull me into his arms. I closed my eyes, unable to bear the sight of him. His voice, when it came, was a masterpiece of delusion. “Just forgive me this one time, babe. I know it’s not fair, but Hailey’s mom saved my life. I’m just repaying a debt. And if it wasn’t for her, I never would have met you. So, in a way, you owe her, too.” I summoned every last ounce of strength and shoved him away. My eyes, burning with hatred, met his. “Barry,” I rasped, “why didn’t you just die back then?” I was a cornered animal, and he was finally scared. He scrambled back, a flicker of panic in his eyes. But it was quickly replaced by a dark anger. “Anita, I only broke your leg. How can you say something so cruel?” He grabbed my face, forcing me to look at him. A slow, terrible smile spread across his lips. “I get it. You’re jealous. You’re jealous of how much I care about Hailey.” He laughed. “Don’t worry, babe. You’re the only one I love. After Hailey’s race, we’ll get married. Just… don’t bring your dying grandmother to live with us. It would be bad luck.” I stared at him, revulsion churning in my stomach. What kind of monster could say such things? He was insane. “In your dreams,” I spat, my voice dripping with venom. “Barry, you and I are done. Forever. I’m breaking up with you.” 3 The moment he realized I was serious, his face twisted into a terrifying mask of rage. His hands closed around my neck. I couldn’t breathe. Black spots danced in my vision. Just as I was about to pass out, his bodyguards pulled him off. Damaging me was one thing; murder was a line even the powerful Sterling family wouldn’t cross. I collapsed to the ground, listening to him rant about how ungrateful I was, how I didn’t appreciate him. We had met on the ice, late one night. Hailey, consumed with jealousy, had made my training a living hell, constantly trying to sabotage me. The other skaters, intimidated by Barry’s family, looked the other way. One night, she stole the key to the rink. The arena was kept at freezing temperatures, even when closed. I always stayed late to practice. She had planned to lock me in overnight. But my grandmother had taken a turn for the worse that day, and I left early to be with her at the hospital. Hailey didn’t know. She ended up locking Barry inside instead, who had come looking for her. When I realized my key was missing, I went back to the rink and found him, shivering and on the verge of hypothermia. After that, he pursued me relentlessly. Flowers, romantic dinners, declarations of love. With him by my side, the bullying stopped. Eventually, I gave in. For the first two years, we were inseparable. The way he looked at me… it was like I was the only person in the world. But that was before Hailey and I moved up to the senior division. On my birthday, he took Hailey to see the Northern Lights. When I was injured, he spent his days shopping with her, carrying her bags. I tried to break up with him. He fell to his knees, begging me. “Babe, her mother died saving my life. I have to be good to her. But it’s just a debt. I see her as a sister. You’re the one I want to spend my life with.” Perhaps because I had also lost my mother, or perhaps because he threatened to kill himself, I gave him another chance. He betrayed me again. For the national team qualifiers, he tricked me and locked me in a bathroom. When I confronted him, he was dismissive. “You’re a prodigy. So what if you have to wait a year? Even if you don’t make it, I can support you.” Because I was absent, Hailey snagged the last spot on the team. I was so exceptional that year, however, that the committee made a special exception and recruited me anyway. But that didn’t change what he had done. I tried to end it for good. But then my grandmother’s heart condition worsened. He used her to blackmail me. “Babe, where are you going to get the money for her treatment on your own? The best cardiac surgeons in the country all work for my family’s hospitals. If you break up with me, do you think they’ll still treat her?” So I stayed. And it all led to this. Lying on the rooftop, the wind biting at my skin, I felt a coldness that reminded me of that first night at the rink. A bitter smile twisted my lips. My voice was flat, devoid of all emotion. “Barry, I should have let you freeze to death.” He roared with rage. “What did you just say?” But the pain and exhaustion were a relentless assault. My vision blurred. The world went black. When I opened my eyes, I was in a hospital room. Barry was by my side. He saw I was awake and immediately dropped his phone, grabbing my hand. I looked at him, but his gaze darted away. He couldn’t meet my eyes. He wouldn’t look like this just because he’d broken my leg. A terrible, sickening suspicion began to form in my mind. “Where is my grandmother?”

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His first love, the woman my husband called his “moonlight,” suffered from severe depression. The mere sight of me would send her into a self-harming spiral. So, to keep his precious moonlight safe, he sent me away. He didn’t care that I was nine months pregnant. He dumped me in his family’s dilapidated ancestral home in the countryside and forgot I existed. Five years after I was defiled and left for dead, his moonlight was diagnosed with kidney failure. The doctors said a blood relative would be the best match. Only then did he remember me—her older sister. He called, his voice a cold command, ordering me to come back at once. My five-year-old daughter answered the phone. Her small voice trembled. “Uncle…? My… my mommy… she’s been dead for a very long time.” 1 “Who is this?” Wayne Heins’s voice was sharp with impatience. “Where’s Beth? Put Beth on the phone!” My daughter, Jenifer, stammered, “You… you wait a minute.” She put down the receiver and ran to find the village elder. “Grandpa, someone’s on the phone for Mommy.” The old man, his back bent with age, shuffled to the phone. “Mr. Heins?” he asked. “You finally…” Hearing an old man’s voice, Wayne’s face darkened. He pressed his temples, taking a deep, calming breath, but his eyes, when they opened, were filled with a barely contained rage. “Where is Beth?” he snapped. “What, is she too scared to take my call? First she has some kid tell me she’s dead, now an old man? Is she going to try that line again?” His voice dripped with condescending fury. “She just wants me to come get her myself, doesn’t she? Fine. For Claire’s sake, I’ll drag her back myself.” He slammed the phone down without waiting for a reply. The next day, a sleek, black car wound its way through the forgotten country roads and pulled up in the village. Wayne stepped out, his expensive suit a stark contrast to the poverty surrounding him. He stared at the half-collapsed old house, his brow furrowed in disgust. The door hung open on one hinge. The inside was gutted, stripped of all furniture. Broken floorboards lay scattered amidst a thick carpet of dust and cobwebs. The windows were shattered. He shot an irritated glance at the young man who had guided him here. “Where is Beth? Tell her to get out here. If she agrees to donate a kidney to Claire, I’ll take her back.” The young man looked pained. “Mr. Heins, I… well, you see… maybe you should wait for the village elder?” Wayne’s eyes narrowed, a muscle ticking in his jaw. Just then, the elder arrived, leaning heavily on a cane. “Mr. Heins.” Wayne gave him a dismissive glance. “Beth. Where is she?” The elder tucked one hand behind his back. “Beth… she can’t come out to meet you.” A cold, mirthless laugh escaped Wayne’s lips. “What, are you going to tell me she’s dead? Tell her to stop with the petty games. I’m not in the mood. I came all this way to get her. What more does she want?” What more did I want? Nothing. I just wanted to live. I wanted to watch my daughter grow up. But I couldn’t even have that. My soul hovered nearby, watching him, a hollow ache where my heart used to be. Five years ago, on the very night I was sent here, I gave birth to Jenifer. A few weeks later, Claire found me. She was consumed with jealousy—that I had married Wayne, that I was carrying his child. First, she sent thugs to destroy the old house. Then, she sent them to harass me, day after day. Finally, she sent them to rape me and kill me. They left my broken body in the mountains for the wild dogs to devour. It was the village elder who noticed I was gone. He organized a search party. They found what was left of me and gave me a proper burial. 2 The elder stroked his thin beard, his eyes clouded with a deep sadness. “Beth,” he said with a heavy sigh, “has been dead for five years.” A mocking smile twisted Wayne’s lips. His expression grew colder, harder. “Do you take me for a child, old man? A woman like her? She’d never have the guts to die.” His hawk-like gaze swept over the villagers who had gathered. He barked an order at his bodyguards. “Find her. I don’t care if you have to tear this entire village apart.” I floated in the air, a silent phantom, as his men went from door to door, pounding on them violently. They shoved aside anyone who answered, storming into their homes, searching for me. The terrified villagers spilled out into the dirt road. The entire village was there, but I was nowhere to be seen. Wayne’s face grew uglier with every passing minute. He stalked over to the elder, his patience gone. He grabbed the old man by the collar. “Tell me. Where have you hidden her? You tell me now, and I might be merciful. Otherwise…” The elder just repeated what he’d said. Wayne’s temper snapped. With a sharp twist, he broke the old man’s wrist. The elder cried out in pain. A small figure darted from the crowd. A little girl in a clean, simple dress, her hair in two neat braids. Her eyes were wide with fear, but she ran to the elder’s side. “Grandpa, are you okay?” she cried. Wayne froze. He looked the little girl up and down, a strange sense of familiarity prickling at him. Jenifer, my brave little Jenifer, launched herself at Wayne, biting his leg with all her might. He kicked her away on instinct. She tumbled to the ground but scrambled back up, her eyes blazing with fury. “You’re a bad man! Grandpa told you, my mommy is dead! Why are you hurting him?” Wayne’s face changed. A dark, terrifying look entered his eyes as he stared at Jenifer. I panicked, instinctively drifting in front of my daughter to shield her, but I was just a ghost. He walked right through me. He snatched Jenifer up by her shirt, his eyes scrutinizing her face. Jenifer kicked and struggled, suspended in the air. Wayne stared at her face, so much like my own, and his voice was a low snarl. “You’re that bastard child.” His hand moved from her shirt to her throat. “Get Beth out here now,” he roared, “or I’ll snap this little bastard’s neck!” I screamed as I watched my daughter struggle for breath. “Wayne, I’m here! I’m right here! Let her go! Let Jenifer go!” But no one could hear me. Jenifer’s face was turning a deep red. I forgot I was dead. I lunged at Wayne, trying to bite the hand that was choking my daughter, but my teeth closed on empty air. The elder, seeing Jenifer begin to go limp, cried out through his pain, “Mr. Heins, wait! Jenifer is your…” Before he could finish, a bodyguard kicked him to the ground. He lay there, groaning in agony. Suddenly, Wayne let Jenifer go. She dropped to the ground, gasping. He swept his cold gaze over the crowd. “Beth,” he announced, his voice a venomous threat, “if you don’t show yourself in three days, I will kill that bastard child.” I looked at the elder, crumpled and broken, and at my daughter’s neck, bruised and purple. A tremor of pure, undiluted hatred ran through me. In that moment, I regretted ever loving him more than I had ever regretted anything in my life. 3 Three days passed in the blink of an eye. This time, Wayne brought Claire with him. The woman who had been so arrogant and triumphant five years ago was now a fragile, withered husk. Wayne lifted her from the car with infinite tenderness, placing her gently in a wheelchair. He tucked a blanket around her, his eyes filled with a pained adoration. All his gentleness was for her. For me, there was only ever impatience and contempt. The elder and I were waiting for them at the edge of the village. Of course, no one could see me. Wayne saw the elder standing alone, and his fury began to simmer. “Seeing Claire so weak… is Beth really so heartless? Refusing to help her own sister?” “Old man, if you hand Beth over, if she agrees to be tested as a donor, I’ll have this road paved. I’ll improve the living conditions for everyone in this village. I’ll even take Beth back as Mrs. Heins. And that bastard child… I will treat her as if she were my own.” He thought he was being generous. A magnanimous king making an offer to a peasant. But the elder gave him the same answer. “Mr. Heins, when Beth came back five years ago, she was constantly harassed by local thugs. I don’t know the exact circumstances of her death. I only know that when I realized she was missing, the whole village searched for her. We found her body in the mountains. It was… badly mauled. I gave her a burial, up on the back hill. You can see for yourself if you don’t believe me.” Wayne laughed, a harsh, disbelieving sound. “Are you kidding me? If she was dead, how was that little bastard born? How did she survive all these years?” The elder sighed. “Jenifer was born the night Beth arrived. After Beth died so suddenly… we couldn’t just abandon the child, could we?” At this, a flicker of something dark and surprised crossed Claire’s face. She knew exactly how I died. The memory was seared into my soul. I had just finished the traditional month of postpartum confinement. Claire showed up with three men. Before I could react, they seized me. She slapped me, again and again. Not satisfied, she ground her heel into my hand, crushing the bones in my fingers. I screamed. “You bitch, Beth!” she’d shrieked. “Why? Why were you born first? Why did you get to marry Wayne? He was supposed to love me!” I tried to speak, but she unleashed a torrent of kicks and punches, a storm of pure hatred. Her men held me down. Finally, I lay broken and dying on the floor. She leaned down, whispering in my ear. “The thought of you sleeping with him, having his child… it makes me sick, my dear sister. You dared to steal my man. For that, even if you are my sister, you have to die.” Then she gestured to the men. They tore at my clothes. They violated me. I don’t know how many times. At some point, I just… stopped breathing. And my soul watched as she ordered them to dump my body in the mountains. The universe has a way of balancing its books. Five years later, Claire’s karma had arrived. The one person who could save her, she had killed with her own hands. She knew, better than anyone, that Wayne’s efforts were futile. I was never coming back.

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My parents beamed at me. “How would you like a baby brother?” they asked. I clutched my ragged stuffed rabbit and shook my head with all the solemnity a four-year-old could muster. “No.” They laughed, ruffling my hair as if my words were meaningless. A year later, they returned with a plump baby boy—my “playmate,” my “protector,” my so-called safety net. But adulthood never came. When Dick developed leukemia, I was strapped to cold steel tables as needles plunged into my bones. When his kidneys failed, my mother signed the consent form for my “voluntary” donation—ignoring my pleas about my blood disorder. I bled to death on that table. When I awoke, I was four again. My mother knelt before me, her face glowing with that same maternal joy. “Kerrie, sweetie,” she cooed, “Mommy has a little secret in her tummy. A baby brother for you. Wouldn’t you like a brother to play with?” In her hands, she held two shiny new action figures. In the corner of the room stood a brand-new, baby-blue crib. I looked down at my own chubby hands, clutching the same faded pink rabbit. I was back. This time, I would not be his living blood bank. I would not be held captive by the illusion of their love. My father knelt beside her, his voice a warm, guiding whisper. “Honey, you’re always scared to sleep alone, aren’t you? With a little brother in the house, you’ll never be lonely again.” He’d said the exact same thing in my last life. But after Dick was born, I had never been more alone. The bedtime stories stopped. I was no longer lifted onto my father’s lap. Overnight, I became invisible. I was told to be mature, to be responsible, to take care of my brother. I was five years old. They expected a five-year-old to shed all jealousy and resentment and devote herself to a creature that hadn’t even been born. Back then, I’d felt a vague sense of loss. I’d tearfully told them I wanted to be their only baby forever. My mother’s face had contorted with rage. “I knew it! Girls are so jealous! First, you try to steal your father from me, and now you want to steal everything from your brother before he’s even here!” I hadn’t understood, I only knew she was angry. I’d sobbed that I was sorry, that I did want a brother. Her smile returned, but later, I heard her whisper to my father, “I saw on the news that an eight-year-old pushed her pregnant mother down the stairs. Who knows what this one might do in a fit of jealousy? We should send her to your parents’ place in the country. Just until after the baby is born.” They named him Dick. A name that meant legacy, succession. Everything would be his. The memories flickered through my mind, and my expression darkened. My mother, thinking I was just confused, took my hand and placed it on her still-flat stomach. “There’s a tiny new life in here, Kerrie. Maybe a brother, maybe a sister. Aren’t you excited?” My father joined her side. “One daughter is enough,” he joked. “I’m hoping for a boy. Someone to protect our little Kerrie when she’s older.” I’d fallen for that line before. I’d been so excited. But the Dick I got was a monster who threw toys at my head and shredded my only Barbie doll with scissors. When I complained, they’d always say the same thing: “But you’re the one who wanted a brother to play with, remember? He’s just a baby, Kerrie. He doesn’t know any better. You have to be patient with him.” They used that excuse to gaslight me through my entire childhood, right up until the moment they used it to justify taking my life. So this time, I pointed a small, steady finger at the new baby furniture and toys filling our home. “You’ve already decided to have him,” I said, my voice devoid of emotion. “Why are you asking me?” For a moment, they were speechless, their smiles frozen in an awkward tableau. I turned without another word, clutching my worn-out rabbit, and walked upstairs. There was a large, bright room up there that had always been kept empty. It was for “guests,” they’d said. I finally understood it was for him. I went into my own small, cramped room and the tears finally came. I had spent a lifetime bending over backward for them, enduring unimaginable pain, and they still saw it as nothing more than my duty. Whenever I cried from the pain of the needles, hoping for a word of comfort, my mother would just scold me. “You’re the one who said you wanted a brother! Why else would I have had a second child? Now he’s here, and you refuse to take responsibility for him?” My hands clenched into tight fists. I had to get out of this hellhole. I spent a long time thinking, and the conclusion was inescapable: my parents did not love me. My entire upbringing was a lesson in being quiet, frugal, and obedient. I was never to be demanding. The only time I ever broke that rule was when I was three, when I cried for the stuffed rabbit. My mother had slapped me across the face, right there in the street, and left me sobbing in front of the market stall. I cried for hours until my father finally came back and bought it for me. “Mommy doesn’t have a job because she stays home to take care of you,” he’d said, his voice heavy with meaning. “I have to support this whole family by myself. The money for this rabbit could have bought us a proper steak dinner. Don’t be mad at your mother. She just wants you to be a good, sensible girl.” I was three. I thought we were destitute. I apologized to my mother profusely, promising never to ask for a toy again. But my mother’s dresses cost hundreds of dollars. My father smoked expensive imported cigarettes every day. When Dick was born, he got new toys every month. The ten dollars for my rabbit wouldn’t have broken them. They just couldn’t bear to spend money—or love—on me. Sure enough, the next morning, my mother knocked on my door. “Kerrie,” she said, feigning exhaustion, “Mommy’s not feeling well with the baby in my tummy. I can’t take good care of you right now. Would you like to go stay with Grandma and Grandpa for a few days?” I stared at her, my eyes cold. “Is it really just for a few days?” My directness made her falter, but she recovered quickly. “Of course, sweetie. As soon as Mommy feels better, we’ll come get you.” I didn’t spare her another glance. I grabbed my little backpack, stuffed my few items of clothing and my rabbit inside. “Let’s go.” It was her idea, but as I got in the car, she began to cry. “Let your father drive you. It hurts too much to watch you leave.” Anyone watching would have thought she was the most loving mother in the world. In reality, it was guilt. A “few days” was going to be at least a year. The car left the smooth highway for a winding, remote mountain road. The familiar, dilapidated village came into view. “Be a good girl for your grandparents,” my father said sternly. “Help out where you can. Don’t be selfish. And call me if you need anything.” He strapped a kid’s smartwatch to my wrist. I stared at it. “Will you actually answer?” I asked. He looked confused. “Of course I will. Why wouldn’t I answer my little Kerrie’s call?” He smiled. “Don’t worry. Even with a new baby, you’ll always be my favorite. You just be good here, and I’ll be back to get you before you know it.” Liar. In my last life, my uncle’s son bullied me relentlessly, calling me a worthless burden nobody wanted. I called my father, sobbing. He said he was busy at work and hung up. I called five times that first month. He answered twice, for less than ten seconds each time. By the second month, he “forgot” to pay for the watch’s service plan, and the calls wouldn’t go through at all. I thought I had broken it. I hid in a corner and cried, blaming myself, praying they would come for me soon. It was a year and a half before my uncle, on a trip into the city, finally brought me home. The moment I stepped through the door, my mother recoiled, pinching her nose. “Kerrie, you smell like a barn! Don’t they have showers in the country?” At six years old, I was mortified, hiding my face in shame. Compared to the pale, chubby Dick, I was a skinny, sallow little monkey after a year in the sun. It was true, I wasn’t very lovable. But wasn’t she the one who sent me there in the first place? The first day at my grandparents’, my aunt was furious. “It’s bad enough their own parents won’t raise them, now they dump a little girl on us!” My uncle gave me a silent, weary look and went back inside. I squatted under the eaves of their small house with my backpack, drawing pictures in the dirt. They didn’t like me, but my father sent them money every month. They wouldn’t starve me or let me freeze. This time, I wouldn’t cry for parents who would never come. I would take care of myself and build the strength to escape them for good. My grandparents came home from the fields at sunset. They didn’t recognize me at first. “Grandpa, Grandma,” I said, walking up to them. “It’s me, Kerrie. I’ve come to stay with you.” Grandma immediately pulled me into a warm, loving hug. Grandpa’s face broke into a huge grin, and he ushered me inside for cookies. That night, as I lay on a cool straw mat, Grandma fanned me to sleep while Grandpa watched from the doorway, sighing heavily. Tears slid from the corners of my eyes. I swore I would repay their kindness. I would not let them die so tragically this time.

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