Author: Momo Chan

After the Archon and I brought twin dragon eggs into the world, I faked my death and fled with one of them. Three hundred years later, I had to venture out on business. I gave my fledgling, who had just recently mastered his human form, a final instruction. “My darling, you be good and wait for Mother. I’ll be right back.” He nodded obediently. The moment my back was turned, he secretly followed me into the mortal realm. When I found him, I had no choice but to bring him along. Until one day, I was leading him home by the hand. Just as we reached the entrance to our hidden vale, a figure hurtled towards us. “Mother! What took you so long? I’ve been waiting for a whole month!” I stared. My son was at home? Then who was this I was holding hands with? 1 Truth be told, I’d noticed something was off with Ash about two weeks ago. Normally, he was the unrivaled terror of Azurewood Vale. From the ancient sprites in the mountains to the smallest fish in the stream, nothing had escaped his brand of playful torment. But on this trip to the mortal realm, he was surprisingly well-behaved. He had even mastered the veiling charm I’d spent half a month trying to teach him, using it with flawless skill. “Oh, my sweet boy, if you’d told me you could hide your aura so well, I would have brought you out ages ago,” I said, overjoyed. I cupped his face in my hands, squishing his cheeks. Usually, he would squirm and protest, “Mother, don’t pinch my face!” But this time, he just let me have my way, his face flushing red as his eyes grew wide and bright. Strange. Very strange indeed. But I didn’t suspect a thing, assuming he’d finally taken my words to heart. And so, we spent a month in the mortal realm in a state of perfect, blissful harmony. 2 Until now. Staring at the two identical versions of “Ash” before me, I finally realized my mistake. “Mother! Who is he?!” my real son cried out, far less composed than I was. He stared at my hand, clasped around the other boy’s, a look of utter betrayal on his face. “When… when did you give me a little brother?!” “…” That over-the-top expression, that theatrical pose—it confirmed it in an instant. Yes. This one was mine. “What nonsense are you talking about? I was only gone a month! How could I possibly have a brother this big for you?” I cuffed him lightly on the head. Ash yelped in mock pain but didn’t back down. “Then why does he look exactly like me?” That… I didn’t know. At first, I’d assumed some sprite had taken his form. But thinking back, very few creatures outside of our vale had ever seen my son’s true face. What kind of being possessed magic so powerful it could fool even me? I was baffled. But our month together had shown me that this boy meant no harm. So, I simply cleared my throat. “Young one, is there some reason you’ve taken on my son’s appearance to follow me?” The “fake” Ash, who I now called “young one,” was still reeling from the shock of seeing his double. Hearing my question, he looked at me blankly. “I didn’t change my appearance. And that day… you were the one who called out to me first.” “…” I felt a dagger-like glare from my side. I gently pushed Ash’s face away, feeling a little embarrassed. 3 He was right. The day I left the vale, I’d just arrived in the mortal realm when I saw a child standing in front of a meat pie stall. He was the spitting image of Ash. My heart leaped into my throat. I rushed over and pulled him away. “You little rascal! Didn’t you promise Mother you’d stay in the vale? Why did you sneak out and follow me?” I was in the middle of a tirade, completely missing the look of confusion in his eyes. It was only after I’d finished scolding him that I heard his stomach rumble. “Hungry? Wait here.” I went back to the pie stall, bought two steaming pies, and pressed them into his hands. “Remember, don’t wander off,” I chattered on, taking his hand. “And keep your aura veiled. There are monsters here that snatch children.” The problem was, after he finished the pies, he never told me I had the wrong person. And he’d spent the entire month enjoying free food and lodging. At that thought, my sense of indignation returned. He, in turn, seemed to know he was in the wrong. He fidgeted with the hem of his tunic, his head bowed. “I’m sorry. I was wrong.” “Is being sorry enough? You even claimed the wrong mother! This is my mother. Where’s your own?!” Ash demanded, hands on his hips as he glared at the other boy. The boy’s voice was a whisper. “I don’t have a mother.” “…” Ash, who had been so full of righteous fury just a moment ago, faltered. His hands dropped to his sides. He shot me a look that screamed, Mother, I messed up, what do I do now? So, he was a poor, lost child. That explained things. I sighed, forgetting for a moment to question why this boy was a perfect copy of Ash. I chalked it up to the world’s vastness—if nature could create similar landscapes, why not similar faces? “If you’re not Ash, what’s your name?” He looked up, his eyes shining. “Noel. My name is Noel!” Noel only told me his name. When I asked where he came from, he fell silent. I guessed he’d run away from home after a fight with his family. But what kind of parents wouldn’t be frantically searching for their child after a whole month? With a heavy heart, I realized I had no choice but to take Noel in for the time being, while I made inquiries about a missing child. 4 A few days passed. In that short time, Noel and Ash had forged a deep friendship. Ash had always been a mischievous child, but I knew he was lonely. Otherwise, he wouldn’t spend his days tormenting the vale’s inhabitants. With Noel by his side, Ash now had a partner in crime. One day, the Whisperwings returned from their journey beyond the vale. I asked them, “Well? Did you hear anything about a missing child?” “No, but…” one of the birds hesitated. “But what?” “But there is news from the Celestial Realm. One of the Archon’s young princes has gone missing. They’re sending out search parties.” It had been so long since I’d heard any news from that place. A nervous twitch started in my brow. “Which Archon?” “Archon Caelus of Aethelgard.” “…” Damn it. I should have known. In all the realms, the only one who could look identical to Ash—apart from some cosmic coincidence—was the other dragon egg I’d left behind. 5 I thought I would never see him again. To think… I’d stumbled upon him by chance, my other child in this world. “Mother!” My thoughts were interrupted as Ash came running over, holding Noel’s hand. I saw his grubby face and frowned in mild disgust. “Have you been rolling in the mud again?” Despite my grumbling, I pulled out a handkerchief to wipe his face clean. As I did, another pair of bright, expectant eyes fixed on me. I looked down and saw it was Noel. “Mother, can you clean Noel’s face too?” Ash piped up. I would have done it even if he hadn’t asked. I beckoned Noel closer. As I wiped his face, I took the opportunity to study him properly. He and Ash weren’t exactly the same. Ash’s eyes and brow were the image of Caelus, but Noel’s were more like mine. That explained it. When Ash had first hatched, I’d been a little miffed. Why did the child I bore have to look so much like that heartless man? It turned out the one who looked like me was here all along. Still… I wondered how Caelus had raised him. He himself was as cold as an iceberg, and now he’d raised Noel to be so serious and mature for his age. I felt a surge of resentment. But then Noel spoke. “Thank you, Aunt Elara. I wish my mother were still here.” A wave of guilt washed over me. But before I could share in his sorrow, Ash clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t be sad. You don’t have a mother, but I don’t have a father. It’s perfect! From now on, we’re brothers.” “Okay!” Noel nodded emphatically. “…” I watched, speechless, as the two of them forged their own little pact. If I didn’t intervene, they might just start a blood-brother ceremony right in front of me. “Alright, that’s enough.” I quickly pulled Ash away. “Stop your nonsense, you little rascal. I have something to say.” Two pairs of identical, shining eyes stared at me. Looking at their similar faces, a wave of tenderness washed over me. But the Whisperwings’ message forced me to push down my maternal feelings and adopt a serious tone. “Noel, I’ve found your family.” Noel’s small face froze. He was likely wondering how I’d discovered his identity so quickly, but after living with me, he must have had some inkling of my power. Ash’s eyes widened. “What? Does that mean Noel has to leave?” “Yes.” “I don’t want him to! Mother, I can’t bear to part with Noel! I want to stay with him!” Before I could say more, Ash had grabbed Noel’s hand. The two of them stared at me with tear-filled eyes, looking utterly pitiful. My heart ached, but I had to face reality. If Caelus discovered I was hiding here with Ash, I might not get to keep either of them. “Ash, Noel’s family is looking for him. Imagine how worried they must be.” I spoke gently. Ash wasn’t unreasonable. But for a child who had finally found a true friend, the thought of sudden separation was overwhelming. My resolve softened. I gave them time to say their goodbyes. When we reached the edge of the vale, Ash was still reluctant. Noel, though slightly more composed, also had red-rimmed eyes. Ash said, “Will you come back and play with me again?” “Of course. I’ll come whenever I can.” The two children bid each other a tearful farewell. 6 Once we left Azurewood Vale, I led Noel towards Aethelgard. “Noel.” “Hm?” The little boy, still lost in his sorrow, looked up at me. Seeing his face, so much like Ash’s, my heart filled with a thousand emotions. I knew when I left all those years ago that I was being unfair to one of my children. But it was the only way I could think of to secure our safety. “When you get back to Aethelgard, don’t tell anyone you’ve seen me or Ash, okay?” “Why?” “We’re just simple spirits from the vale. If the great Archon Caelus found out about us, it might cause… trouble.” If I wasn’t mistaken, Noel had also snuck out on his own. Caelus would surely question him upon his return. I couldn’t risk him discovering my existence, or Ash’s. I was just trying to avoid unnecessary complications. Noel understood. He nodded silently. Then, remembering his promise to Ash, he looked at me, his dark eyes filled with a mixture of hope and fear. “Does that mean I can’t go play with Ash either?” It was as if my refusal would cause tears to spill from his eyes at any moment. I found I couldn’t bring myself to say the words, It’s for the best. 7 During my silence, we arrived at the borders of Aethelgard. I gazed at the celestial palace, wreathed in shimmering clouds and filled with the music of larks. So little has changed, I thought to myself. “Alright, this is as far as I can take you.” Noel hid the disappointment in his eyes. We had just landed and were about to say goodbye when a deep, cold voice echoed from behind us. “Noel!” “Father?” Surprise flickered across Noel’s face. He stood frozen, clearly not expecting to be caught by Caelus right at the gate. He wasn’t the only one. From what I remembered, Caelus was always either cultivating his power or in seclusion. He rarely set foot outside his palace, earning him the title of the “most reclusive Archon” in the Celestial Realm. He hadn’t changed much, though. His presence was still formidable, his aura one of cold, majestic authority. And yet, he possessed a face of serene, almost otherworldly beauty that could tempt anyone to covet him, while simultaneously intimidating them from ever acting on it. I, in my foolishness, had been the first to dare pluck that high-mountain flower. The consequences, of course, were well known. 8 Noel stared blankly as Caelus approached. The Archon’s gaze fell upon his son. “Where have you been?” The question was soft, yet it carried a heavy, oppressive weight. Caelus explained that Noel was supposed to be in a lesson with the Arch-Sage. When the time came and he was nowhere to be found, Caelus sent someone to inquire, only to learn the prince was missing. A missing prince was no small matter. They had searched high and low, never imagining he would be so bold as to sneak into the mortal realm on his own. “You’ve grown bold, haven’t you? Who taught you to behave this way?” Noel hung his head, muttering incoherently. Seeing him scolded so harshly, a pang of sympathy shot through me. Was Caelus always this strict with Noel? It didn’t seem right. He was always fair and measured. Could it be… because Noel looked like me? Was he taking out the anger he felt towards me on our son? That bastard. I should have never left him with a single egg! As I fumed, a gentle, melodic female voice drifted towards us. “His Highness has returned.” Caelus’s voice had done nothing to me, but hearing Fiora’s, my eyes narrowed instantly. Three hundred years, and her status seemed to have risen considerably. The number of acolytes behind her had doubled from four to eight. She carried herself with the authority of Aethelgard’s steward. Fiora glided forward gracefully. She had always been perceptive, and she immediately sensed the tension between father and son. She bent down and spoke softly to Noel. “Your Highness, you worried the Archon greatly by sneaking out. He even skipped the Council of Sages today just to find you.” At this, Noel looked up at Caelus. “I’m sorry, Father. It was my fault.” Caelus let out a slow breath. “Your punishment is five hours of sword practice.” “…Yes, Father.” Noel was led away by an acolyte. Fiora turned back to Caelus, her voice soft once more. “My Lord, now that His Highness has returned, you need not worry.” Caelus remained silent, his lips pressed into a thin line, but I could see the tension in his face had eased. Since my task was done, it was time for me to leave. I tried to slip away unnoticed, but as I turned, a sharp, cold gaze fell upon me. “Wait.” I froze. 9 I had assumed his attention was entirely on Noel. I was wrong. My feet felt nailed to the ground. “Who are you?” Caelus’s voice was deep and commanding. Fiora’s gaze followed his. She seemed to notice me for the first time, her eyes filling with scrutiny. Fortunately, I had veiled my aura and true form before arriving. My cultivation over the past few centuries, while no match for these celestial beings, was enough to prevent me from being exposed immediately. I kept my head bowed and spoke in a rough, low voice. “I am but a humble, nameless spirit-herb from the lower realms, Your Grace.” Fiora questioned, “Was it you who brought the young prince back?” “Yes.” She stared at me with suspicion. She was naturally sharp, but I had prepared for this, rehearsing the story of how I had found Noel. Finding no flaws in my tale, Fiora’s expression softened into one of faint arrogance. “In that case, we thank you. Do you know that the child you found is the son of Archon Caelus?” She had the same condescending air as always. I had to resist the urge to roll my eyes, keeping a humble smile on my face. “I am overwhelmed, my lady.” “Mm. You may go.” That was what I was waiting for. I was about to retreat when the one who had remained silent all this time suddenly spoke. “You said you were from which mountain?” I couldn’t possibly give him the real name, so I invented one on the spot. After I answered, he said nothing more. A knot of anxiety tightened in my stomach. The intense gaze fixed on me did not waver. Fiora noticed it too. “My Lord, is something amiss?” “…No.” Caelus finally retracted his gaze. Perhaps it was my imagination, but as he lowered his eyes, I thought I saw a flicker of disappointment. “Thank you for your help today,” Caelus said coolly. “I owe you a favor. Should you ever need my assistance, you may come and find me.” The words sounded familiar. I remembered him saying something similar before. Back then, I didn’t realize it was just a polite formality and had foolishly taken him at his word. Looking back, I was truly naive. “You are too kind, My Lord,” I said, feigning awe. Caelus said nothing more and turned to leave. Fiora followed, but not before casting one last, lingering glance in my direction. 10 Back in Azurewood Vale, I went to check on Ash. I had expected him to be as miserable as Noel, but I found him humming a tune while plucking feathers from a Whisperwing’s wing. “Ash?” “Mother, you’re back! This is for you.” I looked at the shuttlecock he’d made from the feathers, surprised. “You’re not sad anymore?” “Nah, it’s no big deal. If we’re fated to meet, we’ll meet again.” “…” So philosophical? I was surprised by his change of heart. But then I remembered he’d spent all these years hidden away with me. To finally find a friend he clicked with, only to be separated so soon… he must have been heartbroken. He was probably just hiding it so I wouldn’t feel guilty. The thought made me feel guilty anyway. I stroked his head. “Ash, my darling, I’m sorry. How about I take you to the mortal realm to play next time?” Ash nodded, looking exceptionally well-behaved. My heart swelled with relief, and I went about my business. But I had clearly underestimated my son. Given his talent for causing chaos, how could he possibly sit still for long? Sure enough, a few days later, I emerged from my den to find him gone. “Ash? Ash!” I searched the entire vale but couldn’t find him. Just as I was starting to panic, I saw words he had magically etched onto a leaf. “Mother, I’ve gone to play with Noel. Don’t worry.” I… Wha—?! That little rascal. So this was his plan all along. 11 I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. A wave of worry washed over me. Ash’s magic wasn’t as refined as mine. What if he ran into someone from the Celestial Realm? The thought spurred me into action. I couldn’t worry about arousing suspicion by returning to Aethelgard so soon. Perhaps it was luck, but as soon as I reached Aethelgard’s borders, I ran into Noel. Except, at first, I got it wrong. “Ash!” “Aunt Elara?” The moment he said my name, I knew. This wasn’t Ash. It was Noel. Noel’s face lit up when he saw me. “Aunt Elara, what are you doing here? Did you come to see me?” I hated to disappoint him. “Ash said he was coming to find you. Have you seen him?” Noel looked confused. He shook his head, saying he hadn’t seen Ash. “I was with my father at the Council of Sages. He had other matters to attend to, so he sent me back first.” I see. My worry must have been written all over my face, because Noel took my hand and said reassuringly, “Don’t worry, Aunt Elara. I’m sure Ash is fine. I’ll help you look for him.” A warmth spread through my chest. I was about to say something when an attendant approached. “Your Highness, why are you here? Didn’t the Archon just ask you to go to the study?” “When did Father ask me to go to the study?” “Just now, Your Highness. I saw the Archon with you myself.” “…” Noel’s confused chatter stopped abruptly. He blinked his wide, round eyes and looked at me. I understood his meaning instantly. He hadn’t seen Caelus since he returned. So the one Caelus had summoned to the study… could it be Ash?

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After my family went bankrupt, I was sent back to my birth parents. When my new CEO brother saw my bright pink hair, the prayer beads he was holding scattered across the floor. “Are you here to collect protection money?” I blew a loud whistle, rolled up my sleeves, and revealed a temporary tattoo of a snarling wolf on one arm and a coiled serpent on the other. “Hey, man! My family’s broke. Spot me some cash, will ya?” My parents, who had cut their vacation short to race back, saw my nose ring and their faces went slack with horror. “Dear God! How did our daughter become a delinquent?” 1 My family went bankrupt because a rival sabotaged one of our contracts. The day the court seized our assets, my parents sat me down and told me, with grim faces, that I had been found in a dumpster and that my real parents had finally been located. They’d told me this a thousand times before, but I always thought it was a joke. After all, they also claimed my brother was a prize from a claw machine and my sister came free with a bulk purchase of scrap metal. It wasn’t until they dropped me off at my birth parents’ front door that I realized they were serious. My brother, Cole, clung to my hand, unwilling to let go. “It all makes sense now. My last name is Fisher, and our little sister’s is Finn, but yours is Crane. We’re not even the same species.” My younger sister, Coralie, looked at me with grave solemnity. “Don’t forget us when you’re rich.” Without a second’s hesitation, they abandoned me and sped off. I stood before a mansion at least ten times larger than our old apartment, completely bewildered. If I wasn’t mistaken, this was the Sterling estate. The Sterlings owned a multinational corporation worth billions. I never thought a family this wealthy would be so old-fashioned as to dump a baby girl in the trash just because of her gender. Tsk. I popped a piece of bubblegum into my mouth and glanced down at my outfit: ripped jeans, a skull-print t-shirt, hair bleached and dyed a shocking shade of neon pink, and a nose ring that glinted in the sunlight. I rang the doorbell. No answer. I tried again. Still nothing. I squatted down, ready to wait it out, and pulled out my phone to call my adoptive mom, hoping she might take me back for a little while. Just then, the door swung open. A ridiculously tall man in a bespoke black suit appeared before me. He was fiddling with a string of expensive-looking prayer beads, his features so sharp and defined they could have been carved from marble. The moment he saw me, the prayer beads clattered to the floor. Well, hello there. Wasn’t this the classic brooding, spiritual CEO from a romance novel? I was seeing one in the flesh! I’d heard these types were obsessed with their beads—fiddling with them while eating, sleeping, even on the toilet. They never stopped. And they were supposedly more cunning than a fox in a hen house. “Are you… here to collect protection money?” Asher Sterling’s voice was deep, laced with a mixture of confusion and shock. I blew a loud whistle, inflated a bubble with my gum, and let it pop with a satisfying snap. Then I rolled up my sleeves to show off the temporary tattoos I’d applied yesterday: a snarling wolf on my left arm, a coiled serpent on my right. “Hey, man! My family’s broke. Spot me some cash, will ya?” I said, affecting the most thuggish tone I could manage, and gave him a wink. His expression was thunderstruck, his lips moving silently as if reciting a prayer. “Ash, who is it?” A small, childish voice called from inside, breaking our staring contest. Ash? My eyes lit up again. Another classic trope. If there’s a long-lost daughter, there must be a replacement daughter. The replacement is always showered with love, while the real one is portrayed as vicious and stupid, destined for a tragic end. I narrowed my eyes, ready for a fight. But when the owner of the voice bounced into view, my jaw nearly hit the floor. This was the replacement daughter? I stared at the little girl in a pink tutu, her hair in two tiny pigtails. My brain short-circuited. She couldn’t be more than five. Lily Sterling was studying me with wide, curious eyes. She was way too young to be the evil replacement. Did that mean there was another one hidden inside? “Big sister? Ash, is this our big sister?” she asked, her eyes wide with astonishment. The atmosphere turned decidedly strange. 2 I decided to strike first. I pulled a crumpled piece of paper from my pocket and slapped it against Asher’s chest. “I’m not a fraud, you know!” Asher had completely forgotten about his fallen prayer beads. His face changed the instant he saw the paternity test. It clearly stated a 99.9% probability of a father-daughter relationship between me and Mr. Sterling. I had no idea my adoptive mom had done this behind my back, only stuffing it into my hand as she sent me on my way. I crossed my arms. “How about you just give me a lump sum? A severance package. I promise I’ll never show my face to you people again. My lips will be sealed.” Asher’s expression looked like he’d been punched. He slowly folded the report, his voice low. “No.” I blinked. What did he mean, no? No money? Was he that cheap? The Sterlings were supposed to be loaded. A little bit scraped from under their fingernails would be enough for me to pay off my adoptive parents’ debts. “A Sterling daughter cannot be left to fend for herself,” he said, his eyes turning a little red. “You were taken and abandoned by a nanny. A nanny who was hired by our rivals.” “Dad got into a car accident looking for you and was laid up for half a year. Mom almost… she almost didn’t make it. The company was on the verge of collapse.” He wasn’t the one who abandoned me? And their rivals were so vicious they’d resort to kidnapping a child? Not only did Asher refuse to let me leave, he immediately called his parents, who were on vacation abroad. He had the butler take me to my room to drop off my luggage. I wanted to refuse, but I couldn’t think of a reason. The second-floor hallway was long, lined with doors. The butler stopped at the very last one. “This is your room, Miss Nora.” I pushed the door open and my eyes went wide. This wasn’t a room; it was a princess’s chamber. The entire space was lavishly and exquisitely decorated. In the corner, a mountain of gift-wrapped boxes was piled from floor to ceiling. My worn-out backpack looked completely out of place. “Is… is this a mistake?” My throat felt tight. “The madam decorated this for you herself. It’s redecorated every year according to your age.” Every year? A jolt went through me. So, even though I was gone, they remembered me? Lily had appeared behind me at some point, clutching a stuffed bunny. She pointed to the mountain of gifts. “Mommy buys lots and lots of presents for you on your birthday every year. Even though you’re not here, I help you blow out the candles!” “You’re… you’re saying all of this is for me?” “Yep!” she nodded enthusiastically. “Mommy says you’ll come home one day, so we have to make up for all the missed birthdays!” A sudden tightness seized my chest, as if I’d been sucker-punched. They had really been looking for me all these years? “Lily. Tell me the truth. Is there… is there an adopted older sister in this house?” Lily blinked her big eyes. “An adopted sister?” “I mean…” I chose my words carefully. “While I was gone, did Mom and Dad adopt another girl to take my place?” Lily’s expression turned to one of pure confusion. “Mommy and Daddy do a lot of charity work, but why would they adopt another daughter?” I was stunned. No replacement? How could there be no replacement daughter? Then who was my enemy? Isn’t that how all the stories go? The real daughter returns, and the fake one starts causing trouble. 3 My phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out to see a dozen new messages in our family group chat. I opened it. The latest message was from Coralie: [@Nora Have you met the fake daughter yet? Remember, don’t be like those evil characters in novels. We’re modern, independent women!] I couldn’t help but laugh. That girl watched way too much TV. Cole followed up with a rolling-eyes emoji: [@Nora If you can’t make it there, just come back. We’re having pickles for dinner tonight. You won’t starve.] Then he tagged our adoptive parents: [@Dad @Mom When are you going to take me and Coralie for a paternity test? We want to experience the rich life too.] I was about to reply when my mom sent a voice message. I tapped it, and her booming voice filled the hallway. “You little brat, what paternity test? You’ve got my eyes, my cheeks, you look just like me! You’re obviously mine! What’s there to test?” Lily tilted her head curiously. “Is that your family, big sister?” I nodded, a little proud. My adoptive parents had always been good to me. There were even things Cole didn’t have that Coralie and I were sure to get. Cole sent a disappointed emoji. Coralie immediately followed up. “What about me? I’m so pretty. How could I have gotten Dad’s genes?” My mom sent another voice note. I could practically see her rolling her eyes. “Don’t flatter yourselves. Take a look in the mirror. One of you looks like me, the other like your dumb dad. Only Nora is tall and slender, with fair skin. She was the face of our family. Now all we have left are the crooked ones.” I snorted with laughter, then felt my eyes sting. This was the family dynamic I knew. Constant teasing, but with an undercurrent of affection. I typed a reply: [Mom, you’ll hurt their feelings.] Cole: [My path to riches is blocked! @Nora, set me up with a rich older woman. I’ll make my own way as a kept man!] Mom: [You ungrateful son! I’ll disown you!] Coralie: [Bro, if you’re gonna be a kept man, take me with you. My teeth aren’t so good either, can’t handle hard work. By the way! How are you doing over there, sis? Is there really no fake daughter?] I hesitated. [No, really. Just a five-year-old little sister.] Cole: [Oh no, does that mean you have to inherit the family fortune? Don’t forget us!] My dad suddenly chimed in: [@Nora How are they treating you?] How were they treating me? I had no idea. The Sterlings were still on a plane. So far, so good, I guess. I just replied, “Fine.” Cole was relentless: [What does ‘fine’ mean? Did they give you money? How much?] I rolled my eyes. [Can you have some dignity, bro?] Coralie jumped in: [Sis, if they bully you, just come back!] Just as I was about to reply, there was a soft knock on my door. Asher stood there, holding out a phone. “Nora, put your number in.” I raised an eyebrow and took the phone. It was already unlocked to the new contact screen. I deliberately typed my number slowly, and in the name field, I entered “Bro Crane.” Asher took the phone back. When he saw the name, his mouth twitched almost imperceptibly. He calmly deleted it, re-entered “Nora,” and saved it. Then, he pulled a card from his suit pocket. It was black, with a matte finish, the gold lettering shimmering under the light. My eyes widened instantly. 4 Could this be the legendary black card? “Take it,” Asher said, holding it out. “A welcome gift from me.” I took the card, my fingers trembling slightly. Back home, my monthly allowance was three hundred bucks, max, and I had to beg for it. This card could supposedly buy a private jet, and he was just handing it to me? “How much is on this?” I asked, feeling a bit pathetic. “Enough to buy the entire downtown luxury villa district.” I immediately stuffed the card into my pocket, afraid he’d change his mind. Fireworks were going off in my head. This wasn’t just finding my birth family; this was winning the lottery. “Thanks, bro!” The words slipped out before I could stop them. I was stunned. Did I just call him bro? Asher obviously caught it too. His expression shifted subtly, but he quickly regained his composure. “Mom and Dad will be home at seven. Do you want to change your clothes first?” He left, leaving me standing at the door, clutching the black card in my pocket, my heart racing like I’d just run a marathon. Clothes? What was wrong with ripped jeans, a cropped black t-shirt, wolf and serpent tattoos, a shiny nose ring, and bright pink hair? It was cool! But, for the sake of the black card, I decided to make an effort. I took out one pair of my earrings and changed into a slightly more normal t-shirt. At least this one didn’t have a skull on it. The hair would have to stay; that wasn’t a quick fix. At 6:50 PM, I was bouncing my leg nervously on the living room sofa. Lily sat next to me, her short legs mimicking my movement. “Are you nervous, big sister?” she asked innocently. “Who’s—who’s nervous? I’m just… hungry!” Lily nodded and pulled a piece of candy from her pocket. “Here, for you!” I took the candy, my heart softening. How could this little thing be so adorable? The sound of a car and footsteps came from outside. She immediately jumped up. “Mommy and Daddy are home!” My leg started shaking even more violently. Mr. Sterling walked in first, in a crisp suit, his presence so commanding it made you afraid to breathe too loudly. Mrs. Sterling followed, elegant in a long dress, a designer bag in her hand. The moment they saw me, they both froze in the doorway. Mr. Sterling stumbled, nearly face-planting. Mrs. Sterling gasped and grabbed the doorframe for support. “This… this is…” Mr. Sterling’s voice trembled. Asher nodded. “Dad, Mom, this is Nora.” “Oh my god! My Nora… how did she become a delinquent?” Mrs. Sterling clutched her chest. I looked down at myself. Hadn’t I already cleaned up? Compared to my initial look, this was practically conservative! Lily ran over and hugged her mother’s leg. “Mommy! Big sister is super cool!” Mr. Sterling composed himself and gave me a thumbs-up. “She’s got my youthful spirit!” Excuse me? Mrs. Sterling and Asher both turned to him with identical expressions of shock. “Robert Sterling, you dyed your hair and got a nose ring when you were young? How come I never knew?” Mrs. Sterling’s voice went up an octave. Mr. Sterling coughed, looking slightly embarrassed. “Well, no, but I had long hair! And I was in a band!” I stared at the impeccably dressed man. It was hard to imagine my own father was a rock-and-roller in his youth. Mrs. Sterling took a deep breath, turning her attention back to me. “Nora,” she asked hesitantly, “how many… how many people have you killed?” I blinked, a mischievous idea popping into my head. 5 “One.” Mrs. Sterling’s eyes rolled back, and she started to faint. Asher, quick on his feet, caught her, shooting me a helpless look. “Just me,” I added slowly. Mrs. Sterling immediately revived, patting her chest to calm herself down. “You child! You scared me to death!” Mr. Sterling wiped the sweat from his brow. “Nora, the Sterling family is a prominent one. We’ve been law-abiding citizens for eighteen generations. We avoid any association with illegal activities.” “Alright, alright,” I waved my hand. “I just like this look. I haven’t killed anyone, or set any fires. I haven’t even jaywalked.” My new parents exchanged a look of palpable relief. “Good, that’s good,” Mrs. Sterling murmured. She took a few steps closer and tentatively touched my pink hair. “Actually, this color really suits your complexion.” “Right? I did it myself!” I said, tossing my hair proudly. Ever since I dyed it this color, no one at the fish market dared to ask for credit. Mr. Sterling came closer, an appreciative look on his face. “It’s got personality! Isn’t this what all the young people are into these days? What’s it called again?” “It’s a punk rock aesthetic,” Asher supplied from the side, his face impassive. I was surprised. A spiritual CEO knew about this stuff? “Right! Punk rock! Trendy!” Mr. Sterling slapped his thigh. I was completely baffled by this sudden change in attitude. One minute I was a delinquent, the next I was a trendsetter? “That hairstyle actually suits your face shape. Where did you get it done? Maybe you can take me to get the same cut tomorrow!” Mrs. Sterling said, enthusiastically fluffing my pink hair, her eyes sparkling. Lily bounced up and down. “Me too, me too!” A vein throbbed on Asher’s forehead. “Mom! How old are you? Stop being ridiculous! Lily! You’re not even an adult yet!” Mrs. Sterling pouted and winked at me. “Nora, will you go shopping with Mom tomorrow? What’s wrong with being fifty? Who says a fifty-year-old can’t be fashionable?” My mouth hung open. This was a whiplash-inducing turnaround. “Uh, okay,” I nodded mechanically, completely thrown by her antics. Asher rubbed his forehead and walked away, the prayer beads in his hand a blur of motion. The next morning, I was still dreaming when a frantic knocking woke me up. “Nora! Open up!” Mrs. Sterling’s voice was filled with barely contained excitement. I rubbed my eyes and opened the door, and was instantly wide awake. Standing in the doorway was a middle-aged version of me. My mother had not only dyed her hair the exact same shade of pink but was also wearing ripped jeans and a studded leather jacket. She looked like a rebellious middle-aged punk rocker. “M-mom?” My voice cracked. “Well? I had Tony the stylist copy your hairstyle exactly!” she said, twirling around. I then noticed the embarrassed butler and the utterly defeated-looking Asher standing behind her. “You… you actually did it?” I stammered. “Of course! Let’s go shopping! I’ve already had the driver bring the car around!” she said, grabbing my hand. Asher took a deep breath. “Mom, the board meeting is at ten…” “My dear son, what are you and your father for? Stop acting like those characters in TV dramas, always fiddling with those prayer beads. They’re getting grimy. Aren’t you worried about tendonitis?” she said, pulling me downstairs without a backward glance. “I’m spending the day with my daughter! Don’t forget to pick up Lily from school this afternoon!” And just like that, I was dragged into the car. In the rearview mirror, Asher stood at the door, unsure whether to fiddle with his beads or not, his brow so furrowed you could trap a fly in it. 6 He looked like a stuffy, old-fashioned father worried his daughter was going to turn out bad. At the mall, my mother turned heads everywhere we went. After all, who would have thought the wife of the Sterling Group’s CEO, usually seen in business magazines, would show up looking like a middle-aged rock star? “Nora, what about this one?” She held up a skull-print t-shirt against herself. “Does it look like yours?” My mouth twitched. “Mom, are you sure you want to wear that?” “Of course! It’s a mother-daughter thing!” she said matter-of-factly. Three hours later, we were back in the car, loaded with shopping bags. She had not only bought herself a whole new wardrobe of rebellious middle-aged fashion but had also gotten me several new outfits. They were still in my favorite street style, but the quality and price were on a whole different level. “Nora, this is for you.” On the way home, my mother suddenly pulled another black card from her designer bag. Another one? Asher had just given me one yesterday. “This is my supplementary card. Use it to pay off your adoptive parents’ debt,” she said gently. My hand trembled, and I almost dropped the card. “What… what did you say?” Before I came here, I had indeed planned to get some money to pay off their debt. “Your adoptive parents have had it rough,” she said. “Running a fish stall to raise three kids. Now that they’re in trouble, it’s only right that we help.” I was touched. It was true; my family owned a fish stall and a small fish pond. My dad raised the fish, my mom sold them at the stall, and I helped out after school. Cole handled deliveries, and Coralie was still in middle school. The stall was tiny, but they had officially registered it as a company called “The Silver Fin.” A rival fishmonger, who had been competing with my dad for ten years, resorted to a dirty trick. He snuck over and poisoned our pond, killing all the fish. This happened right after my dad had signed a big contract with a restaurant. With no fish to supply, we were facing a huge compensation claim that bankrupted us. Their debt was only a hundred thousand dollars, which I had already paid off with the black card yesterday. Still, my mother’s attitude was unexpected. She suddenly pulled me into a hug. “Silly girl, I’m so grateful they raised you so well.” I let her hold me, my body stiff. The scent of her expensive perfume was a world away from the fishy smell that always clung to my adoptive mom, but it was just as warm. When we got home, my father nearly fell down the stairs when he saw my mother’s new look. “Eleanor! Your… your hair!” She twirled proudly. “Well? Isn’t it fashionable?” Asher came out of his study, took one look at her, and immediately turned back around, muttering something about “out of sight, out of mind.” On Sunday, my mother took me for a spa day in her new red convertible. Since dyeing her hair, she had discovered a whole new world. Yesterday, she even asked me where I got my nose ring done. “Nora, I’ve booked us a full-body essential oil massage. I hear the therapists at this place are amazing,” she said excitedly as she drove, her pink hair shimmering in the sun, even more dazzling than mine. I was slouched in my seat, scrolling through my phone. In our family group chat, Cole was whining about not being allowed to come visit. He said our parents were afraid he’d embarrass them. [@Nora Are you too happy in your mansion to remember us? Mom and Dad are visiting in a few days, and they’re not even bringing me!] I was about to reply when I heard the screech of brakes. The car lurched to a stop, and my phone flew onto the floor. “What was that?” I looked up to see a silver sports car skewed across the road in front of us, having missed us by inches. 7 “Hey, who is this guy? Can’t he drive?” my mother muttered, honking the horn twice. The sports car’s door opened upwards like a wing, and a young man stepped out. He had short, spiky hair that looked sharp to the touch, which contrasted with his baby face, making him look rather cute. “Why is it him?” my mother suddenly whispered. “What’s wrong?” I bent down to pick up my phone. The screen wasn’t cracked. Lucky. “That’s the youngest son of the Lin family,” she said in a low voice. “Your former fiancé.” A shiver went down my spine, and I almost dropped my phone again. What? So, I had dodged the fake-daughter and evil-stepsister tropes only to run headfirst into the arranged-marriage plot? The young man had already walked up to my mother’s window and knocked politely. She rolled down the window, a polite social smile plastered on her face. “Liam, what a coincidence.” The man, Liam, bowed slightly. His voice was smooth as silk. “Hello, Mrs. Sterling. I’m so sorry about that. My brakes are acting up.” “It’s fine, it’s fine,” my mother waved it off. “Where are you headed?” Liam’s gaze shifted to me, his expression a mix of politeness and curiosity. “To a party. And this is?” “Oh, this is my daughter, Nora,” my mother introduced. “Nora, this is Liam.” I gave him a nod, deliberately putting on a nonchalant air. “Yo, the fiancé?” Liam was clearly taken aback, his eyes darting around awkwardly. “Uh, the former fiancé.” My mother faked a cough. “Yes, yes. We don’t believe in arranged marriages.” I narrowed my eyes. I had a feeling there was more to this story. After Liam apologized and left, I immediately turned to my mother. “Mom, he’s so handsome. Why didn’t you lock that down?” She raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure?” A lightbulb went off in my head. “Does he have a secret love, someone he’s madly in love with, but his family disapproves?” My mother looked at me in surprise. “How did you know?” I rolled my eyes. “It’s a classic! That’s how all the dramatic romance novels go! His family must think the girl isn’t good enough for him, right?” “It’s not just that they disapprove; they nearly disowned him.” Her expression grew even stranger. “Whoa, that serious?” I whistled, ready for the gossip. “How common could she be? Did she sell tacos from a food truck?” My mother took a deep breath. “Because his secret love is a man.” Record scratch. My brain blue-screened. What? A man? This plot was taking a weird turn. What happened to the star-crossed lovers and the class divide? “S-so the Lins objected because…?” I stammered. “Because old Mr. Lin was still alive then, and he was quite traditional. It’s better now. Liam’s boyfriend even came to his birthday party last year.” “But,” she added, trying to suppress a smile, “the person he was originally interested in was your brother.” My brother? Asher “the spiritual CEO” Sterling? When we got home, we found a girl standing at the door talking to Asher. She was wearing a simple dress, her long hair loose, looking pure and sweet. When she saw us, she quickly wiped her eyes and forced a smile. “Hello, Mrs. Sterling.” Her gaze lingered on me for a second before quickly darting away.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “393028”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The year of my SATs, I fell head over heels for Julian Ashford. My downfall came swiftly after my scores weren’t good enough. He slapped my pregnancy test results down in front of my father. “Mr. Chen,” he sneered, his voice dripping with venom, “that daughter you were so proud of? I knocked her up. Congratulations, you’re going to be a grandfather.” He paused, letting the words hang in the air like a death sentence. “But don’t expect me to stick around.” Then he was gone, off to study abroad, leaving nothing but ruin in his wake. I learned the truth then. He believed my father was indirectly responsible for the death of his first love, and to avenge her, he would drag me down into the abyss. My father suffered a massive heart attack and died. My mother, shattered by grief, had a psychotic break and drove her car into a tree, leaving her a paraplegic. And me? I lost my spot at a top university and became a teenage single mother, a pariah in everyone’s eyes. Ten years later, I saw Julian Ashford again. He knelt before me, weeping, telling me he still loved me. 1 I had just tucked Chloe into bed when the text from Carter came through. It was blunt, as always: “The Onyx Lounge, 9 PM. Dress well, but not revealing. Important client.” I set my phone down and kissed my daughter’s forehead, whispering for her to go to sleep. Nine-year-old Chloe obediently closed her eyes, her small hand clutching the corner of my shirt, unwilling to let me go. When my patron gave an order, I obeyed. I quickly applied a light layer of makeup to hide the exhaustion etched onto my face. When I arrived at the lounge, I could hear voices from behind the private room door. “Carter, you old dog, your girl’s got a reputation. Hottest thing in this city,” a man boomed. “Heard she was a top student, too?” “You’re giving her too much credit, Vance,” Carter’s voice, laced with a smug sort of self-deprecation, replied. “She’s just got a high school diploma. Never went to college. If she had, I wouldn’t be able to afford her.” He chuckled. “But she is a looker, I’ll give her that. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have kept her around for eight years.” “She’s just the right price,” Vance added crudely. “A hot little thing you can keep on a short leash for a bit of cash.” Carter’s ego was fragile, and he loved to use me as a trophy to polish it. After eight years as his mistress, I was used to his public posturing. I was about to push the door open, my expression carefully neutral, when Vance’s tone shifted, becoming a warning. “Hey, watch your mouth. Some of us brought family tonight. Aimee comes from a good family. Keep your sleazy talk to yourself. Don’t want to scare the girl.” I pushed the door open, and a different voice, a voice cold as ice, cut through the chatter, freezing me in place. “Aimee isn’t feeling well tonight, so she won’t be drinking. I’ll have a glass on her behalf…” He looked up, and our eyes met. The words died on his lips, his hand, holding a glass mid-air, frozen in time. Ten whole years, and this is how Julian Ashford and I were reunited. 2 Every eye in the room landed on me. I saw it all: admiration, amusement, contempt. Carter’s tie was crooked. I glided to his side, my movements fluid and practiced, and straightened it with an affectionate smile before sinking into the seat beside him. Julian’s shock morphed into a cold distance. The moment he understood my role in this room, his eyes filled with an undisguised, cutting mockery. Ten years. He was here in a tailored suit, a successful man with his respectable fiancée, Aimee, by his side. And I was the mistress of 48-year-old Carter, a plaything to be summoned and dismissed at will. “Sweetheart, I told you nine. You’re half an hour late,” Carter chided, his voice loud enough for everyone to hear. “Think you’re a big shot, keeping these gentlemen waiting? Apologize.” I scanned the room. Besides Aimee, there was another young woman sitting beside Mr. Vance, clearly in the same position as me. Our purpose here was painfully obvious. I immediately plastered on a smile, offering a string of charming apologies and downing three glasses of wine as penance. “Carter, you’re too soft on her,” Vance jeered, his eyes raking over my body. “Just a few drinks for being this late? That’s not nearly enough.” Carter was a self-made man with no powerful connections in this city. It was clear he was the lowest man on the totem pole at this dinner. He hesitated for a second, then gestured for me to pour drinks for the table. I understood. With a sweet smile and a string of apologies, I made my way around the table, filling each glass. When I got to Vance, his hand brushed my thigh, a little too deliberately. I instinctively glanced at Carter, relieved to see he hadn’t noticed. If he had, it would be me, not Vance, who paid the price. I deftly sidestepped Vance’s leering gaze and moved on to the last person. Julian. He had watched the entire sordid display, a ghost of a smirk playing on his lips. As I poured his drink, our eyes met again, and his were filled with nothing but ice. I returned to Carter’s side, playing the part of the devoted lover, practically feeding him every bite. That’s when Carter’s wife walked in. 3 She was a vision of power, dressed in a designer suit, impeccably maintained. Lorraine. Carter’s wife. Her sudden appearance sucked the air out of the room. The men exchanged furtive, gleeful glances, anticipating a spectacle. I saw the color drain from Carter’s face, his body going rigid. I expected a scene straight out of a movie—screaming, accusations, a slap across my face. But she did none of that. She didn’t even spare me a glance, ignoring me completely, as if I were a piece of furniture, unworthy of notice. Lorraine sat down with practiced elegance, a polite smile fixed on her face as she greeted the men at the table. Her composure was absolute as she took command. “Darling, what are you gaping at?” she said to Carter, her voice smooth as silk. “We owe these gentlemen an apology.” She turned to the table. “It’s all my fault we’re late. Carter insisted on taking my car to see my parents yesterday, and the foolish thing broke down on him. Can you believe it?” Carter, snapping out of his stupor, quickly agreed, eagerly pouring drinks for everyone. Lorraine took a glass from him. “My sincerest apologies. My husband here is a bit of a softie, you see. Completely wrapped around my finger,” she said with a self-deprecating laugh. She paused, her tone sharpening slightly. “But when it comes to business, you can trust him completely. And from now on, for anything he can’t handle, you can all contact me directly.” With that, she raised her glass and drained it. Then another, and another. Three full glasses of hard liquor, and her expression never changed. “Bravo, Lorraine! A true powerhouse!” Vance exclaimed, leading a round of applause. “With a wife like you, Carter, you’ve hit the jackpot!” The other men chimed in, a chorus of praise for the brilliant, formidable woman who had just masterfully asserted her dominance. I felt nothing. Not even a flicker of shame. I was the mistress. I didn’t deserve to feel anything. Throughout the entire ordeal, Lorraine granted me a single, sideways glance, and in it, I read her message loud and clear: You are nothing. 4 “I’m going to the ladies’ room.” Aimee suddenly stood up and, with a subtle nod, indicated for me to join her. I obeyed, following her out of the suffocating room. In the bathroom, her voice echoed off the cold tiles, her reflection meeting mine in the mirror. “You’re so young and beautiful,” she said, her tone gentle. “Why do this? Why sell yourself for… dirty money?” I was grateful for her kindness, for the escape she’d provided, but all I could manage was a bitter smile. “Because I have no skills and no education. This is the best way I know how to survive.” Aimee sighed. “That’s no excuse to debase yourself.” I studied Julian’s fiancée. She was serene, elegant, her every gesture radiating a lifetime of privilege. A person like her could never understand why someone with two hands and two feet would sell her body for a few thousand dollars a month. How could I explain it to her? How could I explain that I was a failure, that my mother’s exorbitant medical bills couldn’t be paid by delivering pizzas or waiting tables? After the dinner party dissolved, the room emptied until only Carter, Lorraine, and I remained. Only then did Lorraine drop her mask. A cold smile spread across her face as she slapped me, hard. “You filthy whore,” she hissed, her voice low and vicious. “Good for nothing but spreading your legs for men. Shameless bitch!” She screamed, kicking and punching me, a torrent of vile insults pouring from her lips. “Trash with no one to teach you manners.” I wanted to tell her that my father was dead and my mother was a paralyzed invalid, that yes, there was indeed no one left to teach me how to be a person. But the words wouldn’t come. I curled into myself, shielding my face as she beat me. Carter tried to intervene, but Lorraine stopped him with a single sentence. “You dare protect her? I’ll file for divorce tomorrow!” He hesitated, his attempts to hold her back becoming half-hearted and theatrical. Lorraine’s rage escalated. She snatched a heavy glass ashtray from the table and raised it, ready to bring it down on my head. Suddenly, an arm shot out, grabbing her wrist. “This is a public place,” a cold voice said. “Settle your personal affairs in private. I don’t want this turning into a scandal that affects our business.” Julian had returned. His face was a thundercloud as he held Lorraine back. 5 Carter shot Julian a grateful look, asked him to take me to a doctor, and then quickly escorted his raging wife out of the room. The car ride was suffocatingly silent. Julian’s jaw was clenched, his knuckles white on the steering wheel as he stared straight ahead. I sat in the back, only speaking when I realized we weren’t heading towards my apartment. “I don’t need a hospital. You can just drop me at the next corner, Mr. Ashford.” “I never realized you were this pathetic, Claire,” Julian suddenly bit out, his voice like shards of glass. “So you didn’t get into an Ivy League school. You still had a place at a top-tier state university. And you threw it all away for this? To degrade yourself like this? Didn’t your father, the great moral compass, teach you better? Or is he happily spending the money you earn on your back? I heard he was fired from the school, after all.” He spat out the words “Mr. Chen” with a mouthful of scorn. If I told him that, thanks to him, my father had been dead for ten years, would he laugh? “Mr. Ashford, I’m not going to the hospital. Please stop the car.” He ignored me, his taunts continuing. “What’s wrong? Too ashamed to tell the doctors your wounds are from your lover’s wife? So you do feel shame.” He laughed, a harsh, ugly sound. “You’ve been a mistress for eight years. Why pretend to have dignity now?” I was exhausted, physically and mentally. I ignored his words, my only thought on getting home to Chloe. “Mr. Ashford, let me out.” His eyes, a furious, mocking glare in the rearview mirror, met mine. “You didn’t fight back when she was hitting you, but you’ve got plenty of nerve with me.” He sneered. “I’m your patron’s biggest client. I suggest you put on that same ass-kissing smile you had at dinner.” I nodded, seeing his point. I forced a smile onto my bruised face. “You’re right, Mr. Ashford. I should know my place. When the wife wants to let off steam, I let her. But I made sure to protect my face. It would be harder to find a new client if I were scarred.” The car screeched to a halt as Julian slammed on the brakes. He whipped around, his eyes blazing with a terrifying intensity. “Get out,” he snarPEG. “Don’t dirty my car.” I opened the door without a word and stepped out, just as he’d commanded. It wasn’t that I had become numb, a person who felt nothing. It was that after ten years of being ground down by the sheer effort of survival, even feeling an emotion was exhausting. The time it would take to wallow in self-pity was better spent earning money. 6 When I got home, the scene that greeted me stole the breath from my lungs. Chloe’s small body was curled on the floor, her face a terrifying shade of blue. A choked gasp escaped her lips as her tiny hand reached helplessly towards the cabinet where I kept her asthma inhaler. Panic, cold and sharp, seized me. My daughter was the only thing that could shatter my composure. With trembling hands, I administered the medicine, holding her, rocking her, until her breathing finally evened out. Only then did I let the sobs wrack my body. Chloe, now cradled in my arms, patted my back with her small hand. “Don’t cry, Mommy,” she whispered. “I’m sorry… I’m being a bother.” She was comforting me, like I was the child. She was always so considerate. After she fell back asleep, I stared at my own wrecked reflection in the mirror and slapped myself, twice. The sting of Lorraine’s slaps was on my skin; the sting of my own was in my soul. In my rush to attend that humiliating dinner, I had carelessly left my daughter’s life-saving medicine just out of her reach. I returned to her side, the sight of her peaceful, sleeping face finally calming the storm inside me. If my father hadn’t been snatched away ten years ago, if my mother hadn’t been so broken by grief that she’d crashed her car in a daze… then Chloe would be nestled in her loving grandmother’s arms right now, eating fruit peeled for her by a grandfather who would have spoiled her rotten. But now, all she had was a disgraced mother and a grandmother who was a mad, paralyzed amputee. When our world fell apart ten years ago, Chloe was only three months in my womb. I was too consumed by grief and chaos to even think about an abortion. By the time I remembered I was pregnant, selling off our assets to pay for my mother’s treatment, my belly had already begun to swell. I fainted from exhaustion countless times while caring for my incontinent mother, yet the child inside me clung to life. The first time I felt her faint, determined heartbeat, I abandoned any thought of ending the pregnancy. I was young and foolish, thinking that life couldn’t possibly get any worse. If we had to die, I thought, we would all die together. My mother hated Julian, she hated me, and by extension, she hated our child. She refused to see Chloe, forcing me to split my time, my very soul, between caring for them both in two different places. The thought of not wanting to live became a concrete plan when Chloe was two. My mother’s mental state had deteriorated. In her madness, she saw me as the murderer of her husband, cursing me with the foulest language, striking me whenever I came near. She tried to kill herself in a dozen different ways. I was at the end of my rope. I brought my mother home, fed both her and Chloe milk laced with sleeping pills, and prepared to end it all with charcoal fumes. Perhaps it was a miracle. Through the thick smoke, it was Chloe who woke up first. She stumbled to my side and, mimicking something she’d seen on TV, began to press on my chest with clumsy, desperate hands. Her cries of “Mommy!” alerted a neighbor, and we were saved. After that day, no matter how hard life became, I never dared to entertain the thought of suicide again. Chloe and my mother had to live, and they had to outlive me. 7 To cover my mother’s thousands in monthly nursing home fees and Chloe’s expenses, I started working in a seedy karaoke bar, pouring drinks for men. Many times, I teetered on the edge of full-blown sex work; it paid so much more than just being a hostess. Then, when I was twenty, I met Carter, a man twenty years my senior. He was the first benefactor in my wretched life. He stopped me from being passed around, telling me I only needed to be with him. He took care of my mother’s nursing and medical bills. The relief was immense. Eight years ago, he started by giving me three hundred dollars a month. Now, it was a thousand. When I found out he was married, I tried to break it off. He just showed me a video of his wife with some young stud in a swimming pool and pulled me into an embrace. “Our finances are too entangled, Claire. We can’t divorce,” he’d said. “Besides, she can’t have children. We’ve had an understanding for years—we both do our own thing. You just stick with me. I’ll take care of you.” When survival itself is a luxury, dignity and morality become worthless. So I settled into my role as his mistress. I wasn’t afraid of retribution. My retribution had already begun the day I met Julian Ashford at sixteen, and it had never stopped, flaying me alive, piece by piece, for ten long years. 8 My tragedy began in my first year of high school, with a case of love at first sight for Julian Ashford. Back then, he had a shadow, a girl named Sylvia who followed him everywhere. The whole school assumed she was his girlfriend. I was the other star of our school—proud, confident, and secretly nursing a crush from afar. In our senior year, Sylvia transferred, and they broke up. My grades had never dropped from the top of our class; I was on track to be a top scholar in the state. That’s when Julian made his move, approaching me under the guise of needing help with his studies. My heart, already primed for love, was ecstatic. I fell headfirst into the web of affection he spun, believing it was real. We began a secret, whirlwind romance. Then, just before the final exams, I discovered I was pregnant. The panic and fear shattered my focus. My scores were a disaster, only good enough for a decent state university, not the Ivy League I had dreamed of. The night before the truth came out, he held me, promising we’d get married after a graduation trip. The next day, he threw my pregnancy test and my disappointing exam results in my father’s face. “Mr. Chen,” he’d snarled, “that daughter you were so proud of? I knocked her up. Congratulations, you’re going to be a grandfather.” He revealed everything, leaving no room for mercy, and was on a plane out of the country that same day. Only then did I understand the cruel joke of our “love,” built entirely on a foundation of revenge. My father had been Julian and Sylvia’s homeroom teacher their senior year. Sylvia had also been a brilliant student, but in the final, crucial year, her grades plummeted as she started showing up late and leaving early. My father blamed it on teenage romance, believing it was poisoning the academic atmosphere of the honors class. For an entire week, during morning assemblies, he made Sylvia and Julian stand in front of the entire school, publicly shaming them. The combination of public humiliation and private torment was too much. Sylvia, who was already struggling, developed severe depression and took her own life. The school, desperate to avoid a scandal, paid off Sylvia’s guardians and covered up the suicide, claiming she had simply transferred. Julian channeled all his hatred onto my father. It was from Julian’s venomous tirade that we learned the full story. Sylvia’s parents were dead, and she lived with her uncle, who resented her, and an aunt who made her life hell. After she started high school, her uncle became a gambling alcoholic, beating her and even threatening to pull her out of school to sell her body. Her tardiness, her absences—that was the reality of her desperate struggle. Julian had been her only lifeline. My father’s public punishments were the final straw that broke her. “Now I’ve knocked up your daughter,” Julian had spat at my father. “Don’t forget your principles now, you sanctimonious ‘educator.’ Make sure you punish her properly. And you’ll have to take your precious, proud daughter to some back-alley clinic for an abortion. Can’t have anyone knowing, can we? It would tarnish your spotless reputation.” “If anyone finds out Mr. Chen’s daughter got pregnant out of wedlock, you won’t be able to rest in your grave.” That night, my father hit me for the first time in my life. Then he held me, sobbing, an old man on the verge of retirement, apologizing over and over. “It’s my fault… I’ve ruined you…” Then he collapsed from a heart attack. He died in the hospital. My mother, lost in a fog of grief, got into a car accident that severed her spine.

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The moment my inner succubus awakened was the moment my boyfriend, Ethan, dumped me. I was a mess, crouched on the sidewalk and sobbing. But not over him. I was crying because of the ache—a deep, unfamiliar torment that had taken root in my very core. Ethan shot me an irritated look and grabbed his roommate. “Jax, can you handle her? I’ve got places to be.” Jax just grunted and nodded. He sauntered over, his shadow falling over me. “Lily,” he said, his voice low. “What’s it going to take to make you stop crying?” I clutched my skirt, terrified he’d see the fluffy white tail that had just sprouted at the base of my spine. Crap, my ears were starting to push through, too, a tingling heat spreading at my temples. Biting my lip, I could only whisper the one thing my body was screaming for. “A kiss.” Jax’s eyebrow shot up. “What kind of kiss?” I pressed my hands to my head, trying to keep my twitching ears hidden. “The kind,” I whispered, my voice trembling, “that makes everything… better.” 1 It was an agony. The newly sprouted rabbit tail was a constant, irritating presence. But worse, far worse, was the nameless, carnal tide surging within me. I wanted Ethan to kiss me, to hold me. To do… something more. But five minutes ago, he had suddenly broken up with me. At first, I was just stunned. It wasn’t until I saw Renee standing a short distance away that it all clicked into place. His unforgettable ex-girlfriend was back, ready to reclaim her territory. “Alright, Lily, I’ve said my piece. Let’s just leave it at that,” Ethan said, his patience wearing thin. He kept glancing back at Renee. “I’m sorry, but I’ve been forcing it for six months. This ‘cute’ thing you’ve got going on? It’s just not for me.” “Being with you is like… like babysitting.” “You’re adorable, you’re pretty, but you just don’t… spark that feeling for me. You know? The feeling of being in love.” “I still prefer someone like Renee. Someone with more… womanly charm.” 2 I stared at him, my mind blank, trying to find the words to defend myself. It was true, I had been childlike before. But that was because my kind—the succubi—don’t awaken into our true selves until we turn twenty. Until then, our development is almost completely arrested. Today, of all days, I had been planning to share the good news with him. I had finally grown up. I could finally wear the beautiful, sexy slip dresses I’d always dreamed of. I could finally develop the alluring curves of a woman. But I never got the chance to tell him. Instead, he’d cut me down with those hurtful words. A pang of real sadness hit me, and my eyes, true to my nature, turned red as a rabbit’s. Ethan’s frown deepened. “There you go again. Your eyes get red at the drop of a hat, like someone’s bullying you.” A fresh wave of indignation washed over me. My true form was a rabbit; we were born with red eyes. “Look, I’ve said what I needed to say. I’m leaving. You should head back to your dorm,” Ethan said, turning to go. But then, a wave of agony so intense buckled my knees. I collapsed onto the curb and started to cry. It wasn’t because of the breakup. It wasn’t because of his cruel words. It was the ache. An unbearable torment was consuming me from the inside out. The blood in my veins felt like it was boiling. My mouth was desert-dry, and my heart hammered against my ribs at a terrifying pace. My mother had told me that after a succubus comes of age, we need to feed on passion and desire to survive. The simple kisses and cuddles I’d known before were no longer enough. Our needs were ten times stronger than a normal human’s. That’s why, she’d said, it was best to be in a relationship. With, well, one or more steady, strong, and capable… boyfriends. 3 Through my tears, I looked at Ethan. He was tall and well-built. Both my mother and I had been quite satisfied with him. Just yesterday, she had given me a few… pamphlets. For my “education.” I’d studied them diligently, poring over the illustrations late into the night, which led to a series of chaotic, feverish dreams. I had woken up feeling completely drained. And now, the meal I’d been starving for had just flown the coop. Where was I supposed to find another ready-made, capable boyfriend on such short notice? Ethan watched me sob, his expression shifting from guilt to outright annoyance. He glanced back at Renee, who was losing her patience. “Ethan, are you done yet?” she yelled. “What are you doing, babysitting? Get a move on!” When Ethan spoke again, his voice was cold and hard. “Honestly, Lily, crying won’t work. I’m not going to feel sorry for you.” I bit the soft flesh of my lip, my red-rimmed eyes pleading with him. “Ethan, can we please just break up tomorrow?” Just let me get through tonight. I was terrified my rabbit ears would pop out any second. I could just imagine being captured and carted off to a lab for “live specimen research” by some shadow government agency. Ethan scoffed. “Wow, Lily. You’re really that desperate, huh?” My love for him was, in truth, quite shallow. It was purely about his looks and his physique. Time was slipping away. My body temperature was soaring, and my consciousness was starting to blur at the edges. “Ethan, I’m begging you.” “No chance.” He was clearly fed up. Just then, his eyes landed on a familiar figure, and an idea sparked. “Jax.” Ethan crossed the distance in a few strides and pulled the man over. 4 “Hey man, can you handle her for me? I’ve got a date.” Jax was wearing a hoodie, headphones around his neck. His face was stunningly handsome, but his expression was a mask of cold indifference. He was tall—taller than Ethan—with long legs and broad shoulders. As for his build… I remembered a time I went to find Ethan at his off-campus apartment. Jax had just come back from a run. He was bare-chested, wearing only a pair of light gray sweatpants. His muscles were sculpted perfection. And that… bulge. I couldn’t help but swallow. Maybe it’s just the gray fabric, I thought desperately. Maybe it just makes things look bigger. Jax took off his headphones and cast a cool, downward glance at me. My eyes immediately fixated on his hands, and I couldn’t look away. So long. I mean his fingers, of course. And so strong. I’m still talking about his fingers. That day in the apartment, I’d almost tripped and fallen off the sofa. Jax had caught me and lifted me back up with just one hand. And even though I hadn’t gone through my “second puberty” yet, I was still five-foot-three! “Never mind, forget I asked,” Ethan started, “I know you don’t like getting involved in other people’s business.” But then Jax surprised him. “Sure.” “You’ll do it?” Jax nodded, his face still an unreadable, almost ascetic mask. Ethan frowned again, but Renee was already fuming. “Ethan, if you don’t go now, I’m leaving without you!” “Alright, man, thanks. Just make sure she doesn’t do anything stupid, okay?” Ethan said hurriedly. As he walked away, he cast one last look back at me. But I didn’t notice. My gaze was completely glued to Jax. 5 Ethan and Renee drove off. Jax tucked his headphones into his pocket and walked over to me. I was still a small, huddled ball on the ground, my hands wrapped behind my back, trying to hide the little bump my tail made under my skirt. Jax stood very close. I could smell him. It was completely different from Ethan’s cologne. This was a potent wave of pure pheromones, an almost overwhelming scent that acted like an aphrodisiac for my kind. My head spun. Jax looked down at me. “Lily, what’s it going to take to make you stop crying?” Oh, his voice is incredible. How had I never noticed how good his voice sounded? My mind was a chaotic mess of thoughts. I loved the way he said my name. Would it sound huskier, more seductive, when we were kissing? I felt my ears starting to tingle, threatening to emerge. I quickly pressed my hands to the sides of my head. Oh god, I’m losing control. I bit my lip and begged him. “A kiss.” 6 Jax seemed to raise a single eyebrow. “What kind of kiss?” I gnawed on my lower lip, my teeth teasing the soft flesh as I tried to remember Ethan’s kisses, tried to recall the drawings and descriptions in the pamphlets. The only way to suppress my transformation was through… satisfaction. Even though I wasn’t human, I still felt a blush creep up my neck. Covering my ears, I whispered, “The kind that makes me feel… good. Okay?” A ghost of a smile seemed to play on Jax’s lips. He leaned down, his strong, straight nose almost touching mine. “Lily.” “Yes?” “Do you have any idea what it means to ‘make you feel good’?” I blinked my red, swollen eyes. My mind was a complete blank. I couldn’t think. He was too close. His breath brushed against the tip of my nose—scorching, intense. That intoxicating scent of his enveloped me like a thick fog. My blood was officially boiling, threatening to burst from my veins. And most importantly, seeing Jax this close… he was so handsome it made my heart flutter uncontrollably. I tilted my face up and kissed him. I didn’t forget to close my eyes. Ethan had always said my eyes were too big, too innocent. He claimed it gave him a guilty conscience when we kissed, so he’d made me promise to always keep them shut. I was a good girl; I remembered that rule perfectly. Jax didn’t push me away. Instead, after a brief, charged second, he pulled me up from the ground, pinned me against a nearby tree, and took complete control. 7 Jax, it turned out, wasn’t a very experienced kisser. A few times, he accidentally bit me. I let out a small whimper to signal him. “Jax, don’t bite.” “Have you, like, never kissed a girl before?” “You’re not doing it right. Just open your mouth…” “Lily.” Jax’s scorching palm suddenly cupped the back of my neck. His breathing was ragged, a soft pant against my ear. “Again.” This time, his kiss was deep and overwhelming, as if he meant to devour me whole. My tongue grew numb under his relentless assault. My mind went blank, and my body went so limp in his arms I could barely stand. Until his large hand moved down my back and pressed against my tail. “Lily?” The haze of desire in Jax’s eyes was tinged with a faint surprise. I almost screamed. My brain, for once, worked at lightning speed. “It’s a toy! Can you, um, not touch it, please?” Jax’s hand suddenly pressed down harder. I could feel his displeasure radiating off him. “Lily,” he murmured, his voice a low growl. “You’re full of surprises.” He nipped my lip gently. “Turns out you’re not so innocent after all.” 8 I had no explanation, so I just mumbled incoherently and tried to distract him. I hooked my arms around his neck, kissing his lips, his jaw, the sharp line of his throat. My goal was to get him so lost in passion that he’d forget all about my tail. It worked. Jax pulled me flush against him, crushing me into his embrace, and responded with a fierce intensity of his own. It wasn’t until twenty minutes later that I finally pushed back. “Jax… no more.” “That’s enough, my head is spinning.” “Really, no more. I feel… better now. Really. Can you please stop?” The tail had vanished, and my ears were quiet again. I tried to push the man away, desperate to get back to my dorm. I needed a shower. I needed to change my clothes, from the inside out. Everything felt uncomfortably tight, like I was about to burst. “Um, thank you. For that,” I said, clutching my aching chest and giving him a sincere bow. It was a genuine thank you. “It’s getting late, and I have an early class tomorrow. I should get going.” I turned to flee, but Jax’s hand shot out and clamped around my wrist. “You’re just leaving?” I was surprised. “Is there something else?” “You got what you wanted,” Jax said, his voice now a husky rasp that was impossibly seductive. “I didn’t.” “So… what now?” “What do you think?” I thought about it carefully. My mother had said that for the first six months after awakening, the ‘heat’ would come every other day. I needed a regular partner. I bit my lip and gave Jax a serious, appraising look. Honestly, there probably wasn’t a more suitable man out there. “Well… how about we meet again tomorrow? Same time, same place?” Jax stared at me for a long moment before nodding. “Okay. Tomorrow night. Don’t be late.” 9 None of my old clothes fit anymore, including my underwear. Thankfully, my mom had prepared new clothes for me in a larger size. The next day, before our meeting, I showered and changed into one of the new outfits. It was a form-fitting dress that clung to my new curves. I looked in the mirror and felt a little shy. My roommate suddenly ran over and pinched my side. “Holy crap, you’re not flat-chested anymore!” she shrieked. “You little sneak, what have you been eating to suddenly get so… stacked?” I couldn’t explain, of course, so I just fumbled for an excuse. “Are you wearing makeup? What shades are your eyeshadow and blush? You look so… sultry.” “I’ll share when I get back!” I called over my shoulder. The truth was, I wasn’t wearing any makeup. After the awakening, a succubus naturally becomes more beautiful. Especially after… sampling the pleasures of the flesh. Our beauty would gradually reach its peak. This was just the beginning. But as I was about to head downstairs, I felt a strange shift in my body. It was still early. Why was the reaction so intense already? I quickly pulled out the pamphlet my mom had given me. After a succubus awakens, she feeds on passion and desire. For the first three months, in particular, the need is insatiable and grows daily. If it is not satisfied, she risks exposing her true form at any time. Therefore, it is best for her and her regular partner to… go all the way. As soon as possible. I froze. I rushed downstairs. It was still early, and Jax hadn’t arrived yet. I paced around anxiously, and in my distraction, I bumped into someone. “Lily?” It was Ethan’s voice, full of surprise. 10 I was just as surprised. I quickly stepped back. “Oh, sorry about that.” “Are you here for me?” Ethan asked, his eyes wide with unconcealed astonishment as he took in my new look. “You look… really good dressed like this.” “No, I’m not here for you.” As my anxiety spiked, my eyes started to turn red again. Ethan just smiled, shaking his head with a knowing look. “Lily, I hate clingy girls. Don’t be like this.” “I’m not! I’m waiting for someone.” “Right. You wait, then. I’m leaving.” He clearly didn’t believe me, a smirk playing on his lips. “Still stubborn, I see.” He took a call from Renee and walked away. By now, I could barely stand. The ache was back, fiercer than before. I had no choice but to squat on the ground and wait. When Jax finally arrived, I scrambled to my feet with a joyful cry. “You’re here!” But my legs gave out from under me, and I almost collapsed. He quickly reached out to steady me, but I stumbled forward, my face landing right against his waistband. Oh. So it wasn’t just the gray sweatpants. My cheeks burned, and a wave of heat washed through me. “Lily, are you okay?” “Jax,” I gasped, clutching his arm. My palm was slick with sweat, my fingertips trembling. “I… I want you.” He seemed to freeze for a second. But I was already throwing myself at him, pressing my body against his. We fit together like perfect puzzle pieces, a seamless lock and key. Jax’s entire body went rigid. His Adam’s apple bobbed violently, and his jawline clenched. “Lily.” He gripped my hand, his voice a low, hoarse whisper, trying to coax me. “Be good. We can’t do it here.” 11 I didn’t understand. I snuggled into his chest and tilted my head back, my face flushed with desire, my eyes misty and filled with confusion. “Why not here?” There were trees, there was grass, and the sky was getting dark. It seemed perfect. Jax’s long fingers brushed against the side of my face, intending to tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear. But his skin was so much cooler than mine. It felt incredible. And his scent… that faint, crisp smell of fresh grass that we rabbits loved so much. I couldn’t resist. I couldn’t stop myself. I turned my head and gently bit his finger, my tongue darting out to taste him. It was just as delicious as I had imagined. “Lily.” Jax’s voice dropped even lower, the end of the word trembling. He frowned, trying to pull his hand back, but I held on, sinking my teeth in a little deeper. A sharp, ragged breath escaped his lips, a low groan from deep in his throat. “You’re a girl,” he rasped. “You can’t… do this.” He finally managed to pull his hand free, his knuckles now marked with the faint imprint of my teeth. He glanced at it for a second before looking away, but I saw his throat work again, a hard swallow. The body pressed against mine grew even hotter, his muscles coiling tight. “Are you sick? Should I take you to a hospital?” he asked, his voice strained as he reached up to feel my forehead. “I’m not sick, Jax.” I grabbed his wrist, my voice a soft, pleading whisper. “What can’t a girl do?” He looked down at me, his deep eyes swirling with an emotion I couldn’t decipher. “You can’t just throw yourself at a man.” “You can’t chase after him, begging for kisses.” “And you definitely can’t press yourself against him like this.” “Why not?” I asked again. Animal instincts are simple. When you’re hungry, you eat. When you’re tired, you sleep. And when you’re in heat, you find a mate. Anytime, anywhere. Why were humans so complicated? “Lily, you’re a girl…” he started, frowning. I suddenly pushed him away. “I get it.” “What do you get?” “You don’t like me,” I said, a wave of frustration and disappointment washing over me. “You’re just like Ethan. You don’t want to kiss me or hold me.” I hated that my true form was a stupid, clumsy rabbit. Not like my sister, a glamorous and bewitching white fox. She could make any man in the world fall at her feet. Unfortunately, my sister was a rare anomaly in our clan—a hopeless romantic, completely and utterly lost to the idea of love. “Since you don’t like me, I won’t bother you anymore,” I said, my voice flat. 12 I took a step back. Looking at Jax, I felt a pang of regret. He really did look delicious. But you can’t force someone to want you. And I couldn’t wait. I didn’t have any more time. I had to find another guy. I remembered Ethan had a friend in a lower year. Every time he saw me, his eyes would light up. He definitely wouldn’t mind if I kissed and hugged him. Plus, he was a great athlete. Going all the way would surely be no problem for him. My mind made up, I decided to act immediately. “Well, I’m going to go find someone else. I’m sorry about yesterday and today.” I gave Jax a quick bow and turned to leave. But he was faster. His hand shot out and clamped around my wrist. “Lily.” He loomed over me, his handsome lips pressed into a thin, tight line. Why was he so angry all of a sudden? I looked up at him, confused. “Jax, is there something else?” “Who are you going to find?” he demanded. “Let me guess: if Ethan had dragged some other guy over yesterday, you would have asked him to kiss you until you felt better, too?” I immediately shook my head. “Of course not!” The harsh lines of his face seemed to soften, just a fraction. “He’d have to be tall and handsome, at least,” I added honestly. “I’m very superficial.” “Lily!” He was angry again, his expression frighteningly cold. I shrank back, intimidated. And just then, my tail popped out. Alarms blared in my head. Today’s dress was skintight; there was nothing to hide it. I was on the verge of tears. Without thinking, I threw myself back into Jax’s arms. “Jax, I’m out of time,” I cried, my voice desperate. “I’m just going to ask you one more time.” I bit my lip and looked up at him, my eyes shimmering with a raw, seductive plea. “Will you, or will you not, go all the way with me?” My veins are going to explode. Please. Don’t say no again. Honestly, I really didn’t want to find another guy. Jax slowly raised his hand. His long, elegant fingers cupped my scorching cheeks. In the twilight, his handsome face was like a beautifully carved piece of jade, glowing with a cool light. But the emotions churning in his eyes were dead serious. “I only do those things with my future wife.” “Then can I be your wife?” The words tumbled out of my mouth before I could even think. Jax stared at me for a long, silent moment. Then, a slow smile spread across his lips. “Okay.”

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My husband, Julian, is a name whispered in awe in the halls of science. During an interview about his life, the topic turned to his relationships. He stated, coolly: “I do not believe I am a suitable partner.” “Under no circumstances would I ever place sentiment first.” “I am only willing to dedicate my finite time to the pursuit of infinite science.” After the program aired, he was met with a chorus of praise for his fearless dedication. I, however, quietly folded away my latest medical report. I had cancer. Terminal. The days he would spend in London, accepting his award, would be my last on this earth. 1 The last thing I remember before my consciousness faded was the blinding glare of the surgical lamp. And when my spirit detached, able to see the entire operating room, I watched as the line on the heart monitor beside my bed went flat. That’s when it dawned on me. I was dead. 2 For some reason, I had become a spectral form, able to drift anywhere. It was strange; just this morning, I’d felt well enough to speak with Julian for a bit. He had a conference in London to present his latest findings, and his flight was at noon. I woke at seven to make him breakfast. Julian, for all his austerity, was a picky eater. The toast had to be burned just so, the milk heated to precisely eighty percent. As our son, Leo, would say, “Mom, you’ve completely spoiled Dad’s palate.” I never argued. After two or three decades of meticulous care, even the most troublesome tasks had become second nature. 3 “Julian, dear,” I began, “I heard the weather in England is going to take a sudden dip because of some air mass.” “I’ve packed an extra down vest for you.” “There’s gum in the left pocket of your backpack. Your ears always pop on the plane; chewing a piece should help.” “Don’t stay up too late. Hasn’t your heart been bothering you recently? Try to get some sleep—” “It’s a polar continental air mass.” His words cut me off. I looked up slowly, meeting his clear, sharp eyes. The saying “time is kind to the beautiful” was certainly true for Julian. His brow was still strong and defined; though he was nearing middle age, time seemed to have left no mark on him. Which meant the chill he’d carried since his youth could still pierce straight through to my heart. He was correcting the imprecision of my first sentence. The “some air mass” over England was a “polar continental air mass.” But I was just trying to show I cared. I lowered my eyes and straightened his tie. “I know, I know.” “Be safe on your trip, Julian.” He walked past me. He thought I had a quiet afternoon ahead of me. He was wrong. He was flying across the Atlantic for an academic conference. I had a conference of my own to attend. My pre-operative consultation. The doctor had told me the surgery had only a twenty percent chance of success. 4 The day the doctor told me my stomach cancer had been caught too late, that it had already spread throughout my body, I sat on a bench in the hospital corridor for the entire afternoon. A television mounted in the corner was replaying an episode of Today’s Focus, the interview Julian had given a few days prior. The cold-eyed man didn’t want to waste a moment on anything outside of his research. Even when asked about his wife, he was brief. “I am, for lack of a better word, a block of wood.” “I don’t understand love. My wife… to me, she is more of a responsibility.” “Do we celebrate anniversaries? That’s just formalism. I would rather spend that time running a few more experiments.” That sounded exactly like him. Forget anniversaries; he didn’t even celebrate birthdays. When I was younger, I used to pester him about it, hoping that one day he would appear before me holding a bouquet of radiant roses. But I never once received a single rose. The mind that could commit countless data points to memory simply refused to retain the four digits of my birthdate. Eventually, I learned to sit alone at the table with a bowl of noodles and call it a celebration. Julian was a stone tree that could never blossom. It took me over twenty years to finally accept that truth. In recent years, I’d started to feel that something was wrong with me, too. Call it exhaustion or surrender, it didn’t matter. It was laughable, really. He is he, and I am I. He had laid that simple truth before me decades ago, and only now did I finally understand it. I folded the diagnosis into a small square, tucked it into my pocket, and called my son. 5 Leo and I were close. Julian had never liked children, especially since his only son showed zero aptitude for science. After listening to my dispassionate explanation, Leo’s voice was thick with emotion. “Mom…” “Did you… did you tell Dad?” “I didn’t tell him,” I said, my gaze fixed on the granite floor beneath my feet. “I don’t want to tell him.” He is he, and I am I. Besides, what would he do if he knew I was sick? Would he put aside the research that consumed him day and night to take care of me? “Leo,” I said softly. “Mom doesn’t know how much longer she has.” “When the day comes that I’m gone, don’t tell your father.” I smoothed the hem of my clothes. Why bother him with something he cared so little about? “Okay,” Leo agreed on the other end of the line. “Honestly, Mom, he doesn’t deserve you. He never did.” … 6 My spirit drifted through the hospital’s corridors. I watched the doctor emerge from the operating room, shaking his head in regret. I watched Leo collapse beside my hospital bed, sobbing. He had brought me to the hospital at noon and had waited outside the OR all evening, but his mother wasn’t strong enough. She never opened her eyes again. He cried so hard. I circled him frantically, but he couldn’t see me. I ached to hold him, to tell him not to cry, just as I had when he was a little boy. Leo had tried so hard. He hadn’t become the scientist his father had hoped for, but his paintings were loved by many. He even had a solo exhibition scheduled in Italy for the fall. I sat beside him, looking up at the night stars, and sang to him like I used to when he was small. He couldn’t hear me, but I felt that somehow, he would know his mother was with him. … Suddenly, I was carried away by a gust of wind, transported to a place far, far away. The senses of a spirit are truly bizarre. On one hand, I could still perceive what was happening at the hospital after my death. On the other, I had arrived at the venue of Julian’s conference. The conference was scheduled to last for seven days. Dressed in a sharp suit, he was easily the center of attention. Young, handsome, with a résumé that was virtually unparalleled. The truth was, Julian had probably been the center of attention his entire life. In college, the girls who admired him were countless. It was an era that still held onto some traditional values, yet girls would brazenly chase him all the way to his dormitory. He would always look at them with that same dismissive gaze, dressed in a plain white shirt, clutching a textbook under his arm, his head bowed in a restrained, distant manner. “I’m sorry, I’m not interested in you.” His words were mercilessly blunt. The popularity that many men flaunted was, to him, merely a nuisance. Back then, he was already drowning in national awards. The professors constantly sang his praises. I was one of the many students who looked up to him, one of the most peripheral ones. I only dared to steal glances at the corner of his shirt as he left the cafeteria. Julian had no idea that I had secretly been in love with him for three or four years before our families set us up. And I could never have imagined that three years after graduation, the man my family arranged for me to meet would be him. “I will never be in love with anyone.” That was the first thing Julian ever said to me. “If I must say I love something, then I love running experiments, doing calculations—anything that doesn’t involve people.” He frowned slightly, a gesture that still couldn’t hide his dazzling good looks. He stated his position with stark clarity. “We are not discussing love.” “We are simply ensuring the continuation of a lineage. Do you understand?” … He had been so clear back then. It was I who thought I could accept it. It was I who chose to be with him. I always believed that time was on my side, that one day his clear, placid gaze would finally settle on me. I always believed that he— Would fall in love with me. Was it overconfidence? To pin all my tireless devotion on the flimsy hope of “love growing over time.” My spirit drifted to his side. I watched him engage in a serious discussion with a scholar across from him, his tall figure exuding a cool elegance. “Was I a fool?” I murmured, my hands in my pockets as I looked at him. “They say high-IQ individuals see normal people the way normal people see idiots.” On the other side of the world, my body was being loaded into a hearse. The academic conference buzzed with voices. “Julian, do you think I was a fool?” 7 Julian took a picture of the London nightscape and sent it to me. Of course, I would never be able to reply. Leo, true to his word, never told his father about my passing. He even blocked Julian from seeing the obituary he posted using my social media account. It was for the best. I had clung to him for so long in life; I was afraid of troubling him even in death, forcing him to change his flight. Besides, I didn’t think he would want to see me one last time anyway. The view of London at night was beautiful. But for some reason, he stood on the windswept terrace for a long time that night, staring at his phone. I drifted closer and realized why. In the past, whenever he sent me a message, I would almost always reply instantly. When he traveled abroad, he would occasionally send me a few photos, and I would respond with an emoji I’d saved from Leo—a thumbs-up, or two, with the words “Awesome!” written above. This time, he waited. And I never replied. “Professor Thorne,” a young woman’s voice said from behind him. “It’s starting to rain again. You should come back inside before you catch a cold.” It was one of his students. In academia, some things were an open secret. The girl moved closer, about to drape a coat over his shoulders, but he pushed it away. 8 “Fish and chips.” “Disgusting.” Julian sent me a picture from a restaurant. My body was pushed into the cremator. “It’s raining again.” Julian sent me a picture from the window of his hotel. Friends and family attended my burial service. “Presenting my findings tonight.” “Flight back is tomorrow.” Julian stood on the lecture stage, a sea of cameras flashing at him. My English was rusty, but I understood enough. His latest achievement was another monumental contribution to human progress. There he was, under the spotlight, in his element, shining with the brilliance everyone expected of him. I think that’s why I loved him for so many years. But that was me loving him, not the other way around. As the April rain fell and my ashes were interred beside a square headstone, I finally understood that simple truth. 9 That night, after the conference ended, Julian called my phone. When the third call went unanswered, he changed his flight to one departing in the dead of night. On the plane, his brows were knitted together, his face even colder than usual. I suppose it made sense. For so many years, I had been at his beck and call. For me to suddenly be unreachable must have been unsettling for him. Normally, whenever he returned from a trip, I would be at the airport to pick him up. I’d always arrive an hour or two early, just to wait. It was another one of those habits. You can’t bear to let the person you love suffer any inconvenience. I always did my best to make his life comfortable. But this time, he would have to walk through a deserted terminal alone and hail an overpriced taxi at four or five in the morning. He arrived home at six. He knocked first. No answer. He used his fingerprint to unlock the door and pushed it open. The house was empty. Everything was just as he had left it. The sink was spotless, the dining table bare. But my slippers, the ones I always wore, were still neatly placed by the entryway. He unbuttoned the coat he’d been in too much of a hurry to change out of and walked through the dark house, circling again and again. The bedroom. The balcony. The bathroom. Finally, he pulled open the washing machine door. … Finding nothing, he paused, took out his phone, and called me again. A long wait, then the busy signal. He took a deep breath, his thumb swiping to another number on his contact list. Leo’s. Their relationship had been strained even before Leo became an adult. For years, Leo only came home to see me, with no intention of acknowledging his father. Julian’s attitude was much the same—immersed in his work, he wanted nothing to do with raising a child. He was absent during the most crucial stages of his son’s development, so his son had never spoken to him with much warmth. “What do you want?” “Where is your mother?” Both their tones were sharp. But Leo paused. Then came a strange, hollow laugh, a sound impossible to describe, as he repeated the question in a mumble. “Where is my mother?” “My mother’s gone.” “Gone where?” Julian’s frown deepened, the first light of dawn landing right between his brows. I heard my son’s voice on the other end of the line, suddenly pale and thin. “Not gone where.” “She passed away, Dad.” 10 A long, heavy silence stretched between both ends of the phone line. From my vantage point, I could see the knuckles of the hand Julian held the phone with turning white. “You’re old enough to know better than to make such tasteless jokes,” he said, his tone scolding. He didn’t believe it. It seemed the idea that I could die, that my funeral could be held without him even being notified, was something that simply did not exist in Julian’s reality. Leo’s voice went hoarse on the other end. After a long moment, he let out a laugh that sounded almost like a release. “Dad,” he said. “I haven’t told you a single joke since I was twelve.” Leo hung up. The dial tone buzzed from the phone, but strangely, Julian seemed frozen, holding the phone in the same position, just standing there. Slowly, he sat down on the living room sofa. Julian was meticulous and rigorous in his academic life, but his personal life was the complete opposite. He was casual to an extreme. So, I was always the one cleaning the house. His study was often piled high with papers he wouldn’t let me touch. He had snapped at me more than once over things like that. Thinking back now, maybe I was never the right person for him. Perhaps he needed a fellow female scientist with whom he could traverse the vast, boundless universe of academia. Not a writer for a small publication who only knew how to wash the sofa covers until they were faded, who didn’t even know what a polar continental air mass was. Light began to seep into the room. I saw him touch the lace trim on the sofa cover. The lace that had already gathered a thin layer of dust. He rubbed it, over and over again. 11 The front door opened. Julian whipped his head around, the movement so abrupt I was afraid he’d sprain his neck. But it was Leo standing in the doorway, dangling a key from his finger. “Dad, good, you’re here.” “Where did Mom keep her ID and the household registration book?” “I need to go to the registrar’s office…” Julian’s fingers, still toying with the lace, froze. “…to cancel her registration.” … The cabinet under the television held some of our personal documents. Julian was the type to toss these things around carelessly, including some of his major award medals, so I always put them away for him with great care. He was indifferent to them, but I would always trace their engravings with a happy smile. “What’s the point?” he’d ask, not understanding why his awards made me so happy. I would just beam and link my arm through his. “Because you’re my husband, of course! I’m happy when my husband wins an award.” When I was younger, I used to be more clingy and affectionate. Over the years, I had toned it down considerably. Julian was now holding our marriage certificate, not letting go. The photo on it wasn’t very good. His lips weren’t turned up in the slightest, while I was smiling as if it were my own personal, grand wedding. Leo found my ID and turned to see his father holding the two red booklets, staring at them intently. “Don’t worry, Dad,” Leo said. “Now that Mom is gone, your marriage to her is naturally dissolved.” “You’re not her husband anymore. Not ever again.” “Happy? You’re free to pursue relationships with all those young female students you mentor now.” This was the kind of sharp, sarcastic tone that would usually make Julian furious. But this time, he didn’t react for a long time. In fact, he seemed to have been lost in a daze for a while. He just slowly stood up and picked up the trench coat hanging on the sofa. “I’ll go with you.” 12 They didn’t say a word to each other the entire way. To be honest, I had wondered what Julian’s reaction would be after I died. I imagined a simple “Oh” or “I see,” before he would dive back into his great research for the betterment of humanity. He didn’t love me. I knew that. So my departure would be, at most, an interlude for him—not too big, not too small, like a pebble dropped into a lake. The fact that he was personally going to cancel my registration… I didn’t know whether to thank him for old times’ sake. Watching my own existence being officially erased was a rather unique experience. Leo handed over the documents, and Julian sat on a chair in the waiting area. Even so, he was still a striking figure. Dressed in a teal coat, he stood out like a solitary pine tree. I could always spot him in a crowd. I didn’t know what he was thinking, his dark eyes quietly reflecting the bustling crowd. Just like that, Leo filled out my cancellation form. The clerk on the other side of the window confirmed the details. When the booklet was handed back, it had a new stamp on it. “DECEASED.” Julian stared at that word for a long, long time. So long that Leo snatched the booklet from his father’s hand. “I’ll come back in a few days to get Mom’s things.” “Who said you could?” Julian’s voice, unused for so long, was dry and raspy. “I’m her son. Why can’t I?” “I’m still her husband.” “You’re nothing,” Leo spat. After that, they both fell silent. Julian was still standing there, but I felt as if all the strength had been drained from him in an instant. He closed his eyes and said slowly, “Your mother never told me she was sick.” “Yeah,” Leo nodded. “What good would it have done?” Leo took the booklet stamped “DECEASED” and walked away. Julian was left standing alone at the entrance of the registrar’s office. I knew it all along. Julian was always just a passerby in my life. It was impossible to melt a man like him. He was forever rational, forever on his pedestal. The sun beat down mercilessly. He turned and walked down the street, the air thick with the sound of cicadas.

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The car crash left my mother and me clinging to life, the medical bills a mountain we could never climb. The man I loved? He saw that mountain and ran, straight into the arms of another woman. Only Philip, my childhood best friend, didn’t hesitate. He sold his company shares, scraping together seven million dollars to save us. But it wasn’t enough. My mother didn’t make it. And the surgery that saved me, stole my sight. Still, Philip stayed. He handled my mother’s funeral arrangements with a quiet strength that held me together. He then gave me a wedding so beautiful, it felt like a dream. In the years that followed, our love was a soft, warm melody. We were the couple everyone in our social circle envied. I never imagined that one night, after a party, I would overhear his friend ask him a question that would shatter my world. “Philip, what if Elara finds out? What if she discovers you gave her corneas to Lauren? That you let her mother die to save Lauren’s? What would you do then?” Philip’s voice was a low, haunted murmur. “I’ve wronged her, I know. That’s why I’m giving her the rest of my life to atone. But I love Lauren. For her… I would drown in sin for all eternity, unforgiven for a thousand lifetimes, and I would do it gladly.” 1 “Elara, are you absolutely sure about this?” “Once you undergo the cryo-suspension, the Elara we know will be gone.” I nodded, listening to the professor’s regretful tone on the phone. I had one last request for him. “Please, do one more thing for me. Find out the truth about my mother’s death.” “I need to know who killed her.” Just then, Philip’s voice drifted in from outside the door, laced with a familiar, bittersweet ache. “Lauren may not love me, but I saved her mother. I gave her back her sight.” “I have no regrets.” “As for Elara and her mother… I’m repaying them with my life. That should be enough.” My fingers tightened around my phone. My sight, my mother’s life… and to him, it was all settled with a casual “that should be enough”? Even now, every word he spoke was for Lauren. There was never a moment for me. It was his best friend, Leo, who couldn’t bear it. “Was it worth it, Philip? Ruining their lives for a woman who doesn’t even love you?” Philip’s reply was instant, without a shred of doubt. “Of course. I’d do anything to make Lauren happy.” “I’d even die for her!” Leo sighed. “But you didn’t die, Philip. Elara’s mother did.” He trailed off, but the accusation hung in the air. Philip was silent for a moment before downing his drink in one go, as if to swallow any explanation. Their footsteps grew closer. I scrambled back to my room, a clumsy, panicked escape. My foot caught on nothing, and I crumpled to the floor, a heap of helplessness. Right. I’m blind. I can’t see the world. And I couldn’t see the hearts of men. I never, ever imagined that the architect of my misery was the man I loved most, the man who slept beside me every night. And my mother, the person I respected and loved more than anyone, had died as a casualty of his twisted devotion to Lauren. I had once seen him as my savior, the hero who had rescued my mother and me. I had paraded the scraps of his pity around, calling it happiness. How absurd. The front door clicked shut. Leo was gone. Philip came upstairs, calling my name a few times. When I didn’t answer, his footsteps quickened. He found me on the floor, his voice thick with concern as he rushed to help me up. “What happened? Elara, you fell! Why didn’t you call for me?” I could tell his worry was genuine. But I also knew, with chilling certainty, that it was born from pity, not love. “It’s nothing. I just slipped,” I mumbled, pushing his hands away and pulling myself to my feet. I couldn’t see, after all. This wasn’t the first time. His concern only deepened into a pained tenderness. “You have to be more careful. Your vision… I’ll hire someone to be with you at all times.” “If anything else happens to you, it would break my heart.” He pulled me into his arms, his embrace as gentle and loving as it had always been. But this time, I felt no warmth. Only a profound, hollowing cold. To think a person could go to such lengths for another. Sacrificing his own happiness, the happiness of others, even their very lives. I closed my eyes, and the tears I could no longer control streamed down my face. That night, long after Philip had fallen asleep, I lay awake. With my cane, I crept into the spare bedroom and found the box. Philip himself had placed it here, where I could easily find it. It was filled with all the gifts he had given me over the years. Since I was leaving, there was no reason to keep them. Better to donate them, give them to people who truly needed them. I fumbled for the box, lifting it carefully. Suddenly, a voice sliced through the silence behind me. “Elara, what are you doing?” I jumped, clutching the box to my chest to keep its precious contents from spilling. Philip rushed over and snatched it from my hands. “Aren’t these the gifts I gave you?” he demanded, his voice edged with an odd tension. “What are you doing with them?” The irony was a bitter pill. I turned away from him and walked out, not offering a single word of explanation. The next morning, I took the gifts to a charitable foundation. I wanted to donate them to help others like me, people who had lost their sight, find their way back to the light. But the staff member who assisted me seemed incredibly hesitant. I offered a small smile. “It’s alright. Mr. Archer won’t be upset with you. Please, just donate everything.” “That’s not it, Mrs. Archer,” she stammered. “It’s just… all of these items, they’re promotional gifts. They… they don’t have any monetary value.” Her words hit me like a blast of arctic air, freezing me from the inside out. Impossible. These were the gifts Philip had bought for me over seven years. Each one was supposed to be priceless. Yesterday… his anxiety over this box. It wasn’t about the sentiment. It was about the secret. He was afraid I’d find out. He planned to keep me in the dark forever. I forced my voice to remain steady. “Then… where did the actual items, the ones these were gifts with, go?” The staffer thought for a moment, her expression growing even more apologetic. “These are all one-of-a-kind, custom pieces. According to our records, Mr. Archer, on behalf of his company, sent them all to a Ms. Lauren Vance.” Hearing her name was like a thunderclap in my mind. So that was it. For seven long years, he had made Lauren the brand ambassador for his company just so he could shower her with gifts. Every priceless jewel from every auction, sent to her in the company’s name, disguised as a token of appreciation for a ‘business partner.’ A man’s secret love, so ostentatious yet so discreet. It was hidden in every detail, each one a new thorn twisting in my heart. I let out a hollow, self-mocking laugh and didn’t ask any more questions. I had only five days left until the cryo-suspension. Five days to say goodbye to seven years. It was more than enough. 2 To prepare for the experiment, I followed the professor’s instructions and began the process of erasing my official identity. He sent over the first pieces of information about my mother’s death. My signature was indeed on her organ donation consent form. A perfect forgery, crafted by Philip. It turned out that while he was telling me he loved me, he was also practicing my handwriting until it was indistinguishable from my own. All to set this trap. My jaw clenched. When I returned home, Philip was there, a rare day off from work. He saw me come in, his expression a mixture of confusion and nervousness. “Elara, where have you been? And the jewelry I gave you… it seems to be missing.” His hypocrisy was so blatant I couldn’t help but laugh. “I gave it away. I tried to donate it, but the foundation said it was all worthless junk.” “So I gave it to the lady who collects scrap metal.” My words made him even more frantic. He stammered, “Those people at the foundation, they don’t understand the value of custom pieces! They were just talking nonsense, don’t be angry.” “I’ll have my people track the jewelry down right now.” His earnest, panicked act only deepened my disgust. “Don’t bother. You can just buy me new jewelry later.” He visibly relaxed at my words, pulling me into a hug. “That’s right. My Elara has the kindest heart, always helping the less fortunate. We’ll just call it a charitable donation.” “I promise, darling. I’ll bring you something even more precious tomorrow.” He made the vow with such conviction. But then I remembered. Tomorrow was Lauren’s birthday. Of course I would be getting a gift. It would be the freebie that came with hers. I said nothing, just quietly moved to the dining table for lunch. The food was from my favorite hotel, the one Philip had arranged to cater my lunches, day in and day out, for seven years. I used to think it was a sign of his devotion. Now I saw it for what it was: a way to keep me occupied and out of his way. A moment ago, when he’d held me, I had smelled the faint scent of freshly cooked food on him. Who, I wondered, had he been cooking for? He really had thought of everything to keep me from disturbing Lauren. I scraped the entire meal into the trash and walked out the door. This seven-year charade was finally coming to an end. Erasing my identity wasn’t enough. I had to divorce him. I wanted no connection, in any capacity, to this man. Leaving the lawyer’s office, I took the divorce papers to Philip’s company. As I stepped into the lobby, I was met with a buzz of excited chatter. “Ms. Vance is so beautiful! She and Mr. Archer make a perfect couple.” “She must be the mysterious Mrs. Archer everyone talks about. No wonder he keeps her hidden away.” “Definitely! Her bag and jewelry alone are worth millions. And it was all from Mr. Archer!” Before I could hear more, Philip’s assistant intercepted me and whisked me away. In the top-floor office, I heard a familiar voice from within. “How is Declan treating you? Are you two… doing okay?” Philip asked, his voice threaded with caution, as if he was afraid to hear she was unhappy, yet equally afraid to hear she was happy. Lauren’s tone was calm, with an undercurrent of sweetness. “We’re great. He just launched a jewelry brand for me a few days ago, as a surprise. Seven years and he’s still a romantic fool.” The “romantic fool” she spoke of, the man who cherished her so dearly, was Declan—my ex-fiancé, the one who had abandoned me after the crash. A wave of desolation washed over me. It seemed every man I had ever loved was truly in love with Lauren. And I was, and always would be, the one unworthy of love. My nails dug into my palms, mirroring the mangled state of my heart. Lost in my thoughts, I was startled when the assistant took a call and rushed to get Philip’s signature, pushing the office door open in front of me. Philip looked up and saw me, a flash of surprise in his eyes. “Elara? What are you doing here?” He started to rise, but his gaze flickered to Lauren on the sofa. Lauren smiled and stood up. “Elara, it’s been so long. You’re as beautiful as ever.” Her words were venom wrapped in silk. My clothes were dated, and my face had lost its light since I’d lost my sight. Lauren, on the other hand, carried a scent of expensive, elegant perfume. Though I couldn’t see her, I could imagine her, radiant and stunning. My fists clenched. In seven years, the campus beauty queen had become a blind, worn-out housewife. I was no longer her competition. This is what you wanted, isn’t it, Philip? Your precious Lauren is safe from me now. I pose no threat at all. 3 Shaking myself from my reverie, I ignored Lauren’s taunt and spoke calmly. “Philip, I have a couple of documents for you to sign as well.” I slipped the folder into the stack of contracts his secretary had brought in. Without a second glance, he signed everything and handed it back. He seemed eager for me to leave, anxious not to have me interrupt his reunion with Lauren. I smiled. “Well, if that’s all, I’ll head out. You two continue your chat.” But for some reason, he hesitated. Leaving Lauren behind, he came out and stopped me. “Elara, Lauren is the company’s brand ambassador. She was just here to discuss work.” The lie was so blatant, so unnecessary, it was almost comical. “I know,” I said. “You focus on work. I’ll be waiting for you at home.” He finally seemed to breathe a sigh of relief and had his assistant escort me downstairs. In the underground garage, as I was about to get into the car, someone rushed up from behind and shoved me to the ground. “Elara, you really are blind, aren’t you?” “I have to hand it to Philip. I never thought he’d have the guts to do this for me.” Lauren’s voice, no longer warm and gentle, was now a vicious, triumphant cackle, like a demon crawling out of hell. Her words made my eyes fly open in shock. “What are you talking about? What do you mean, ‘for you’?” Before I could finish, Lauren just laughed, then brought her stiletto heel down, grinding it into my palm. “You still don’t know, do you? That car crash seven years ago, the one with you and your mother? Philip arranged the whole thing.” “He couldn’t stand to see me cry, so he found a convenient victim in you.” “You poor, pathetic thing. Sleeping next to your own enemy for seven years.” Her every word was a shard of ice stabbing into me. I froze. I already knew Philip had stolen my mother’s organs. But the car crash… that it was also his doing? The agony in my heart dwarfed the physical pain. A surge of furious strength propelled me upward. I scrambled to my feet and swung my cane, slapping her across the face. But I was blind, my aim was off, my strength was nothing. Yet somehow, Lauren threw herself backward, slamming against a concrete pillar with a sickening thud. “Lauren!” Before I could process what had happened, Philip was there, shoving me aside with brutal force. My cane clattered to the ground. As I was frantically feeling for it on the concrete, the man who was supposed to care for me ran past, his polished shoe crushing my already injured hand. First Lauren’s heel, now Philip’s shoe. A sickening crack echoed in my head. My hand felt… obliterated. I cried out in pain, but the Philip who had once doted on me was blind to my suffering. His only concern was Lauren. “Elara! Are you insane?” he roared at me. “Lauren was just worried about your eyes! How could you attack her?” A cold, bitter laugh escaped my lips. “How could I not?” “Philip, do you really think she had nothing to do with my mother’s death? With my eyes?!” I clutched my broken hand and screamed at him. For a moment, he looked stunned, then he rushed to explain. “Elara, what are you talking about?” “What does Lauren have to do with what happened to you and your mother?” “You’ve lost your mind! You’re just spouting nonsense!” “Apologize to Lauren right now, and I’ll let this go!” Before I could respond, Lauren spoke up, her voice weak and trembling. “It’s not Elara’s fault. It’s mine. Declan broke off his engagement to her to marry me… she has every right to be angry.” “Elara, I know you hate me. But Philip loves you so dearly. You shouldn’t blame him.” Her false sincerity was nauseating. Philip, however, was completely consumed with checking her for injuries. “Lauren, stop. Don’t worry about her. Let’s get you to a hospital.” Loves me so dearly. Who was he really talking about? I smiled, a bitter, broken thing. Seven years of love had just turned to ash. Philip and I were well and truly over. A kind stranger took me to the hospital. Later, I received a text from Philip. “Lauren is our brand ambassador. You hurting her is bad for the company. Making you apologize was just a strategic move, for show. Don’t overthink it. I’ll make it up to you tonight when I get home, okay? Don’t be sad, my love.” Whether it was an act or the truth, it no longer mattered. I had nothing to do with him anymore. I just wanted to leave this place, leave him. I placed the divorce papers he had signed on the coffee table, in the most conspicuous spot in the house. The next morning, the car from the laboratory arrived to pick me up. The man who had promised to come home and make things right never appeared. I smiled. This home I had never truly seen, this man I had never truly understood… they were no longer a part of my life. Upon arriving at the lab, the professor looked at me with deep sorrow. “Elara, the investigation you asked for is complete.” “Your mother’s death…” He couldn’t bring himself to say more. Instead, he played the audio from the private investigator’s video file for me. “Besides the forged signature, the car crash involving Miss Elara and her mother seven years ago was deliberately caused. The car that came speeding out of the right lane, the one that caused the crash… the registered owner was Philip Archer.” Philip… It was really him. The name that had once made my heart flutter was now fused with my own blood and tears. Seven years. Seven years I had loved him, been grateful to him. It was all a joke. From beginning to end. I made one final request of the professor. “Please, send a copy of this investigation to every major news outlet in the city.” “I want everyone to see this man for who he truly is.”

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My parents died on an overseas mission—officially labeled traitors, bribed by the criminals they hunted. I begged my fiancé, the police captain, to clear their names. Instead, he married the “hostage” they rescued, in a lavish wedding. Crushed by online hate, I stood on a rooftop edge, ready to die for their innocence—until his brother, the medical examiner, pulled me back. He silenced the media. Swore to restore their honor. I married him, trusting him with the investigation. Five years passed. No leads. Then, pregnant, I overheard him: “Alistair, Luna’s parents were stabbed. They didn’t fall. Why stop investigating?” “Rosalind’s prints were on the dagger. Why let your brother marry her?” “She’s innocent. Self-defense. End of discussion.” Ice flooded my veins. My parents’ death wasn’t unsolved. My husband had buried the truth. This marriage was a lie. And it was over. 1 “Are you out of your mind? It was bad enough you rescued Rosalind, but to let her live in your family home for five years? To make Luna live under the same roof as her parents’ killer, day in and day out? Do you have any idea how cruel that is? If she finds out, you’re finished!” Alistair’s face hardened, and he slammed his hand on the desk, rising to his feet. “I told you, Rosie is not the killer! She was a hostage, dragged there by the real culprits. What’s so strange about her being at the crime scene?” “The case is closed. Don’t bring it up again. As long as Rosie is happy, I’ll do whatever it takes. And as for Luna… she’ll never find out. As long as I’m here, Rosie will always be safe.” His colleague’s face was a mask of disappointment and fury. “You’re a fool, Alistair! You’re the most brilliant ME we’ve ever had, solved countless cases before you even hit thirty, and you’re falling for Rosalind’s lies? A hostage? What kind of hostage is decked out in designer clothes and jewelry?” “I think love has rotted your brain. You’ve forgotten who you are!” “You fell for a killer, Alistair. This won’t end well for you.” Rage boiled over in Alistair. He swept a hand across the table, sending files and equipment crashing to the floor. “Enough! I said Rosalind is not the killer, and I don’t need you to teach me how to conduct an autopsy!” “Drop it. If the truth comes out, I’ll do the time for her. It’s that simple.” “You’re a lost cause. Fine. Do whatever you want. I just hope you don’t live to regret it.” The blood in my veins was frozen solid. Footsteps were approaching, fast. I scrambled back to my room, a mess of silent, panicked sobs, pressing my hand to my mouth to stifle the sounds. Five years ago, after my parents’ deaths, Alistair’s brother, Aiden, had refused to let me see their bodies, claiming the shock would be too much for me. Everyone whispered that my parents had betrayed the force, that they were silenced by their criminal associates. The relentless online harassment shattered my sanity, pushing me to the edge. The day I climbed to that rooftop, ready to jump, it was Alistair who saved me. He held me in a crushing embrace. He told me he was a medical examiner, that he could make the dead speak. That he would prove my parents’ innocence. I believed him. I clung to him as the only light in my bleak, gray world. Even as five years passed with no progress, I never lost faith. I trusted he was working tirelessly, and my heart ached for the burden he carried. But it was all a lie. The love was a lie. The comfort was a lie. The only truths were the gut-wrenching betrayal and the carefully constructed deceit. Just as tears blurred my vision, Alistair appeared in the doorway. His eyes instantly reddened with concern. “What are you doing on the floor? Are you not feeling well? Let me take you to the hospital.” I pushed his helping hand away and staggered to my feet, struggling to find my balance. “Alistair, my parents’ case… still no leads?” He froze for a fraction of a second before answering, his voice smooth and certain. “I’m so sorry, Luna. I’m still chasing it, but… nothing new has surfaced. Don’t worry, I won’t give up. I promised you an answer, and I’ll get it for you. Just wait for me.” “Look at you, you’ve gotten so thin from the stress. Please, try not to think about it anymore. It breaks my heart to see you like this.” He pulled me into his arms, patting my back in a familiar, comforting rhythm. But I didn’t miss the flicker of panic in his eyes. The last shred of hope died within me. I couldn’t stop the bitter smile that twisted my lips. Oh, Alistair. You played me for a fool for five long years. That night, I brought him his usual warm milk to help him sleep. Only this time, it was laced with a powerful sedative. He drank it without a second thought and was soon lost to a deep, artificial slumber. I slipped out of the room and walked to the one door he had forbidden me from ever opening: his study. The moment I stepped inside, I froze. The walls were a gruesome gallery of autopsy photos. And there, in the very center, were my parents. Their eyes were wide open in death, hollow sockets weeping tears of blood. They hadn’t died in peace. The fall from the 28th floor had left their bodies mangled, but I could still clearly see the fatal wound on each of their chests. The clean, precise mark of a dagger that had pierced their hearts. The killer’s strike had been fast, sure, and brutal. This was not the work of an ordinary hostage. Alistair had meticulously noted every inconsistency in the autopsy, his red ink a bloody commentary on the lies. The case file was also on the wall. Ten full pages, and Rosalind’s name was on every single one. Her background, her fabricated reason for being at the scene, the fact that her fingerprints—and only hers—were found on the dagger. All the evidence was right there, in stark black and white. But scrawled across the final page, in Alistair’s neat, decisive hand, were two words. COLD CASE. What a sick joke. I photographed every piece of evidence on that wall. I couldn’t bear to look any longer. I turned to the safe. I had seen Rosalind’s file five years ago, a supposed hostage profile. I’d been suspicious even then, and I had memorized her details. I keyed in her date of birth. The safe clicked open. Inside was an album dedicated entirely to Rosalind. As I flipped through the pages, the truth unspooled before me. Rosalind had known the Blackwood brothers for over a decade. Thousands of photos documented their happy past together. The three of them were always together, Rosalind always nestled safely between the two brothers. There was even a photo of her in a wedding dress, perfectly preserved. Except there were three people in the picture. I let out a dry, self-mocking laugh and closed the album. I took out my phone and booked a one-way international flight for three days from now. I filed the applications to terminate all my domestic identification. I couldn’t spend another minute in this place, a place built on lies and betrayal. I didn’t sleep a wink. Memories of the past five years played on a torturous loop in my mind. At dawn, Alistair woke up as usual and made me breakfast himself. He sounded puzzled. “I slept so heavily last night. I feel completely drained, not sure why.” I took a bite of my sandwich and just smiled. “You’re probably just exhausted from the investigation, Alistair. My parents’ case… maybe we should just let it go.” “It’s been five years. I don’t want you to work yourself to death over it. Maybe… maybe it’s time to give up.” A flash of relief crossed his eyes, so quick I might have missed it if I weren’t looking. He was visibly relieved. But he still put on his mask of pained sympathy. “Luna, don’t worry. I will finish what I promised you. It’s never a burden to do things for you.” “Thank you for being so understanding, my love.” He leaned in to kiss me, but a wave of nausea roiled in my stomach. I bolted for the bathroom, vomiting uncontrollably. Alistair rushed after me, his eyes lighting up with a sudden, dawning excitement. “Luna… are you… pregnant?” I froze. He was ecstatic, grabbing me and spinning me around three times. “This is wonderful! It’s wonderful! I’m going to be a father! We’re going to have our own child!” “Mom and Dad will be thrilled! We haven’t been home in ages. Let’s go see them in a day or two and tell them the good news, what do you say?” “We have to tell your parents, too. I’ll buy some offerings and come home to pick you up.” Before I could say a word, he was already on his phone, scrolling through baby products, ready to place an order. I noticed his shopping cart was already full of similar items, buried deep at the bottom of the list. He’d been preparing for this for a long time. My apparent agreement was all the permission he needed. He started placing the order. But for everything, he bought two. After paying, he remembered I was standing there. His expression turned awkward. He hesitated before speaking. “It’s just… we’ll probably run into Rosalind at home. It wouldn’t be right to show up empty-handed. How about I just buy her a little something, as a gift from you?” “Come on, honey. It’s been five years. Rosie was a victim too. You can’t still blame her for taking Aiden from you. We’re so happy now, it’s time to let the past go…” I splashed cold water on my face and numbly agreed. “Fine. You’re right. Rosalind was just a hostage. The fact that there are no leads after five years proves her innocence. Do what you think is best. Consider it my apology to her.” For the past five years, I had been haunted by my parents’ deaths. At every family dinner, I had met Rosalind’s friendly overtures with a stony silence. Alistair had fought with his family countless times over it. He’d even bought us a new house away from them, to “protect” me. I once thought that was a testament to his love. Now I knew it was just to shield his precious Rosalind from my inconvenient grief. He would do anything to protect her. This five-year charade was finally over. The moment he left, I left too. I went to a lawyer’s office and had a divorce agreement drawn up. I also asked about my parents’ case. The lawyer said that with only photos of the evidence, overturning the case would be nearly impossible. And given the old media narrative, no one would believe the daughter of two traitors. I wandered the streets in a daze. When I came to my senses, I was standing outside Alistair’s precinct. As I walked in, his colleagues were gathered in an excited huddle, gossiping. “Was that the ME’s wife just now? She’s gorgeous. And she looks so familiar… oh, right! The international case from five years ago! Wasn’t she the hostage?” “Now that you mention it, I remember! Dr. Blackwood never used to go to crime scenes, but that time he practically begged the chief to go with his brother’s task force. The first thing he did when he got there was ask where Rosalind was.” “They must have known each other before. To make both Blackwood brothers lose their minds like that… must be some connection. I’ve never seen the Captain or the ME so out of control. They nearly shot the suspect on the spot!” “Hey, shut up. When someone tried to point the finger at Miss Vance back then, the Blackwoods almost tore this place apart. Don’t talk about her.” My nails dug into my palms. I walked numbly to his office door. A familiar voice drifted out. “So, these past five years… have you been happy?” “You know your own brother, don’t you? Aiden would pluck the stars from the sky for me. The moment I agreed to try for a baby, he didn’t let me out of the bedroom for three days straight. I could barely walk.” Alistair’s voice was laced with a bitter sorrow. A wry smile touched his lips. “Yes. Aiden has always loved you. I should have known.” “Alistair… thank you. If you hadn’t deliberately guided the media back then, leaking that story about the Su family’s betrayal, I’d probably be in prison right now.” “I just hope Luna doesn’t suspect anything. She hasn’t found out, has she? If you two fight because of me, I could never forgive myself…” Alistair waved a dismissive hand, his tone contemptuous. “Don’t worry about her. The reputations of two dead people aren’t that important. As long as you’re safe, everything I did was worth it.” Something squeezed my heart, tight. I couldn’t breathe. I had thought Alistair was merely unwilling to solve the case, that he just wanted to protect Rosalind. I never imagined he was the one who had personally fabricated the lies that had branded my parents as traitors. They had dedicated their entire lives to justice. They had died trying to catch a killer. Why did they deserve this end? Before I could find an answer, Alistair was presenting Rosalind with a gift. “I heard you’re pregnant too. This little toy… consider it a welcome gift for the baby.” The divorce papers slipped from my hand, fluttering to the floor. The sound caught their attention. Alistair rushed out, his face pale. “Luna? When did you get here? Why didn’t you say anything?” I picked up the papers from the floor. When I stood up again, the storm of emotion inside me had completely subsided. “It’s nothing. I was just passing by. I just got here.” “Don’t get the wrong idea. Rosie was just here to see Aiden, but he’s out on a call, so we were just chatting.” Rosalind rose with a smile and waved at me. Not a hint of guilt on her face. “Hey, Luna. Fancy seeing you here.” I couldn’t stand to look at her. I turned to leave. But Alistair followed me, step for step. “Are you angry?” “Rosie is my sister-in-law. There’s nothing between us. Can you please not make a scene? She’s pregnant too. I was just asking her about things to expect, so I could take better care of you.” I glanced down at the hand gripping my arm. Suddenly, I smiled. To protect Rosalind, he had sent my entire family into a nosedive. He had destroyed my parents’ names and stolen five years of my life. Now that Rosalind was safe and sound, who was he putting on this act for?

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1 Nathan Sterling has an attachment disorder. He recoils from the touch of other women. Everyone said we were fated to be together. And he was always good to me, but he never seemed ready to get married. Then, at his birthday party, I overheard his friend ask, “Nate, you’re not seriously going to marry that stand-up comedian, are you?” He barely lifted an eyelid, his hand lazily stroking the waist of the woman beside him. He let out a sneer. “Are you kidding? I’m just playing a little game with her. A redemption story.” “A woman like her? She’s not fit to tie your shoes, let alone marry me.” I stood outside the door, hesitating, before turning and heading straight to the hospital. Later, Nathan would be on his knees, begging me to forgive him. In the OB-GYN clinic, a man gazed tenderly at the woman’s stomach beside him. She looked back at him, sunlight glinting in their hair. It was a beautiful, picture-perfect moment. It would have been even better if the man in the picture wasn’t my boyfriend. I gave a bitter, self-mocking laugh, my hand resting on my own slightly swollen belly. I guess he wasn’t going to marry me after all. The moment Nathan’s eyes met mine, he panicked. The hand that was on Chloe’s waist shot away as if burned. “Aria, what are you doing here?” The woman beside him seemed resentful of his sudden distance. She reached for his hand, right in front of me. I pretended not to see, my voice flat. “I’m here with a friend.” He nodded awkwardly. “This is… my sister. I’m just going to walk her out.” Chloe stormed past us toward the doctor’s office in a huff. He hurried after her, but not before turning back to me. “Aria, wait for me. I’ll give you a ride home.” I was prepared for it, but hearing it out loud still felt like a punch to the gut. I lowered my head, and a single, traitorous tear fell into the takeout container on my lap. I barely noticed it myself. I mumbled an okay, forced down a few bites, and threw the rest away. If he’d been paying any attention at all, he would have seen the medical chart in my hand. But his mind was clearly elsewhere. I watched the two of them ahead of me, a suffocating tightness in my chest. Their conversation drifted back, loud enough for me to hear. “Your sister? Right. I guess if ‘big brother’ hadn’t been so rough last night, ‘little sister’ wouldn’t be at the hospital today.” “My fault, all my fault. Whatever you want today, I’ll buy it for you, okay?” Behind me, the nurse asked one last time. “Are you sure you want to terminate the pregnancy?” I touched my belly, closed my eyes against a wave of pain, and nodded. A child not conceived in love and anticipation was better off not entering this world at all. After the procedure, I went home. Nathan didn’t come back until late. He smelled of perfume and the cold night air as he climbed into bed, reaching for me like he always did. But I’m allergic to most perfumes. He never wore any. The scent of him made my stomach turn. I subtly shifted away. He grabbed my hand. “Aria, why didn’t you wait for me today?” “Oh, I brought you a gift. It’s a new fragrance from that master perfumer in France. Only three bottles in the whole world.” In the faint moonlight filtering through the window, I stared at him. A wave of nausea washed over me, and I gagged. It was the same perfume I had smelled on Chloe that afternoon. He followed me to the bathroom, his face etched with worry. In the bright light, I saw it clearly: a cluster of love bites on his neck. A testament to the intensity of their afternoon. I pushed his outstretched hand away. “I must have eaten something bad. It’s late, you should go take a shower.” The next morning, the breakfast table was laden with food, including a special porridge he had made himself, supposedly good for the stomach. He wrapped his arms around me from behind. “Aria, come to the auction with me today. Think of it as a make-up anniversary gift.” I nodded silently. He pointed to a beautifully wrapped box on the table and asked if it was a surprise for him. 2 When I confirmed it was, he instinctively moved to open it. I stopped him, forcing a smile. “Wait a week before you open it.” “In a week, this gift will have meaning.” After breakfast, I went to the garage and got into the back seat. As I sat down, a pair of women’s panties fell out from the seat pocket. I said nothing, just stuffed them back in and wiped my hands with an alcohol wipe. In a week, I’d be on the other side of the ocean, working as a psychologist’s assistant. I had only become a stand-up comedian to better understand a former patient’s world. I never expected to meet Nathan at my very first show. It was love at first sight for me. So when he mistook me for a professional comedian, I, for some reason, didn’t correct him. Many patients with psychological issues are resistant to therapists, and I wanted to get close to him. So I became a stand-up comedian, performing on stage every night. I did it for so long I almost forgot what my own dreams were. Since I was leaving, there was no point in making a scene. Hysterics would only be met with more lies. If I couldn’t have the truth, I didn’t want anything at all. When Nathan got to the car, he frowned. “Why are you in the back?” “I’m a bit carsick. It’s more comfortable back here.” He nodded. “Okay, I’ll drive more smoothly then.” The silence in the car was deafening. His phone rang, shattering the quiet. The screen lit up with a photo of the two of us, our smiling faces a cruel irony. The caller ID read “Kitten.” It took me less than a second to guess who “Kitten” was. He quickly silenced the call. It rang again, persistent. He silenced it again, then glanced at me in the rearview mirror, a flicker of guilt in his eyes. “Work call. So annoying.” I was focused on the scenery outside, trying to burn every detail into my memory before I left. I lowered my head, my expression unreadable. “It’s fine. You can take it.” He pulled the car over and got out. Before he answered, he glanced back into the car. Unfortunately for him, he had accidentally activated the car’s display screen. His chat with “Kitten” was laid bare. Chloe had sent him a photo of an ultrasound report, with a section circled: risk of miscarriage. “Big brother, it’s all your fault for being so rough yesterday. You hurt our baby.” “Wasn’t it you who was teasing me, Kitten? You don’t behave even when you’re pregnant.” Another photo followed. Black lace stockings. He got back into the car, a smile on his face. I quickly switched the screen off. At the auction, he touched my cheek. “Aria, what’s wrong? You look so pale.” I licked my dry lips and shook my head. Chloe arrived, wearing the same black stockings from the photo, her hair in perfect waves, her lips a slash of red. Her gaze was fixed on Nathan, bold and unwavering. “Big brother, what a coincidence. Mind if I join you?” Nathan shot me a nervous glance. I forced a smile. “Be my guest.” Then, in a clumsy, staged move, she bumped into me. I was caught off guard and fell, my ankle twisting beneath me, swelling instantly. Nathan’s panic was palpable. He rushed to help me up. Then he snapped at her, “Apologize to Aria.” She looked defiant, staring him down, but eventually relented with a mumbled, insincere apology. She then sat down as if nothing had happened. Before the auction began, the lights dimmed. In the faint glow from the stage, I saw her hand slide under Nathan’s, guiding it beneath her skirt. His breathing grew heavier. He shot her a glare, as if shocked by her audacity. After a few moments of fumbling, his face flushed an unnatural red. He stood up. “Aria, I’m just going to the restroom.” A moment later, Chloe followed him, shooting me a triumphant look as she left. My heart felt like it was being twisted by a sharp blade, each turn a new wave of agony. Did he think I was blind? He couldn’t even wait? 3 I swallowed the pain and turned to leave. As I passed a utility closet, I saw Nathan pull her into his arms, a hint of reprimand in his eyes. “You shouldn’t have shown up in front of Aria.” The woman, her red lips pouted, tapped his chest playfully. “Why not? Isn’t this more exciting?” “I’m wearing the set you wanted to see most. If you walk away today, there won’t be a next time.” Nathan’s eyes were bloodshot. “You little minx,” he cursed under his breath. What followed were her heavy breaths and coy complaints. “Gently, there’s a baby in here!” Nathan chuckled. “You’re the one who was teasing me.” His hand, however, rested gently on her stomach. The piercing pain in my ankle and the sour ache in my heart overwhelmed me. I backed away silently, despising myself. He was doing this, right in front of me, and I was still hurting over him. Hours later, he called, asking where I had gone. “My ankle hurt too much. I left early.” He said okay, then sent me photos of several auction items, asking which one I liked. I was leaving. None of it mattered. “Whatever,” I said flatly. He started choosing for me, his voice excited. “How about this sapphire necklace? It represents the purest love.” A bitter laugh escaped me. The purest love? Did he hear himself? He was defiling the very meaning of the words. I changed the subject. “Nathan, will you marry me?” There was a long silence on the other end, then a low chuckle. “What, you want to marry me now? Not yet. The wedding I give my Aria has to be the grandest the world has ever seen.” I laughed at myself. So, that was a no. Great. After five years, I finally had my answer. I hung up, whispering to the empty room, “Nathan, be careful you don’t fool yourself with this act of devotion.” Tonight, for the first time in ages, he came home at seven. I deliberately asked him about the necklace. I already knew what had happened. I had received a taunting text from Chloe as soon as the auction ended. “The ‘purest love’? Sorry, it’s mine now. And Nathan will be mine too. You should know when to step aside.” He frowned, a look on his face as if he’d finally caught me in a lie. “I’m sorry, Aria. I didn’t win it. I’ll get you something even better, I promise.” I looked down, a sudden urge to mess with him taking over. “No. I want that one.” A flicker of annoyance crossed his face, his tone sharp. “That’s enough, Aria. I hate it when women are demanding and unreasonable.” Seeing his mask of devotion crack, I felt a strange sense of satisfaction. Oh, Nathan. You never saw me as an equal, did you? I was just a pet you kept. When you were in a good mood, you’d toss me a treat, and I was supposed to be grateful. But the moment the cat starts to think for itself, you have to find a way to declaw it. I smirked. “Well, what am I supposed to do? My mother is pushing me to get married. Will you marry me?” It was the second time I had asked him that day. With his mask off, his true face was revealed. “Enough, Aria. Are you trying to force my hand?” We parted on bad terms. I don’t know if he was trying to teach me a lesson or if he was just too busy with Chloe, but for the next few days, he didn’t come home. Not a single text. Chloe, however, kept me updated with a steady stream of messages. Three days left. He took her to the North Sea, the trip we were supposed to take. A helicopter dragged a banner across the sky: NATHAN LOVES CHLOE FOREVER. How ironic. Then she sent another photo. Nathan, reading a book on prenatal education. “I told him the baby is still the size of a bean and can’t hear anything, but he insists on reading to it every day~” Her previous taunts hadn’t bothered me. But this photo… this one made my eyes burn.

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I left the window open—let the triad boss hear me with other men all night. Morning came. His face darkened. “How many men? Room for one more?” I lay surrounded, coldly refusing. “Don’t you love your ‘little sister’?” He stood bloodshot, frozen. I’d fought ten years to build his empire. Yet he chose some college girl over me. His men protested: “Valerie carved this territory with you. Why marry another?” Caleb crushed his cigarette, thumbing the matching ring he wore with Helen. “Valerie? A bloodstained blade. Sleeping with her disgusts me.” “What if she turns on you?” “This city is mine. Losing her means nothing.” Outside the door, I listened. Dumped the medical supplies I’d brought him. Texted his enemy: “Caleb’s empire—and his life. Yours for the taking.” 1 I was trying to arrange for a speedboat to get off the island when Caleb found me. “A big shipment is arriving the day after tomorrow. I need you to personally oversee the reception. And clear out your house. I have a use for it.” His voice was a low, serious command, but I just found it laughable. To marry Helen, he was willing to throw my life away. Even with Edman closing in, he wanted me to risk my neck to bring his little flower to the island. He really was a fool for love. A use for my house? What else could it be but a place for Helen to live? I gave a cold, “Okay.” My flat reaction seemed to displease him. He frowned. “What’s with the attitude now? The only reason I haven’t made our relationship public is because things are unstable. Edman is watching my every move. I can’t let the men get complacent because of one woman.” “Your most important job right now is to help me break Edman’s siege.” Caleb always had a way of twisting things, of making me feel small. I used to think it was his way of protecting me, so I fought even harder for him. Now, it just sounded ridiculous. I placed the boat requisition form in front of him, my voice flat. “I don’t have an attitude. I’m used to it.” He sensed something was off. A flicker of annoyance crossed his face, and his signature was so sharp it tore through the paper. “Valerie! What’s with the long face? I’m just asking for your house. Everything on this island is mine. Your life is mine. You think I can’t tell you what to do?” He threw the paper in my face. “And in the future, don’t bother me with trivial things like island procurement. I don’t have time for you.” I knew he had misunderstood, but I didn’t explain. I just gave a perfunctory nod and walked out. Seeing the speedboat requisition in my hand, I smiled, a genuine, relaxed smile. I had been with Caleb for ten years, fighting for his territory. We were childhood sweethearts, comrades who would die for each other, and even the most intimate of lovers. I had always dreamed of marrying him. He had hinted at it too, saying that once he had the whole city in his hands, he would give me what I wanted. But now I realized it was all just my own wishful thinking, a lie woven from his manipulation of my feelings. And now he was marrying someone else. That night, a team of heavily armed mercenaries escorted Helen to the island. She was a vision in a white dress, but her innocent eyes were filled with a smug, triumphant gleam. “You’ve worked so hard for Caleb for over a decade, sister. You’ve earned your rest.” “I’ll make sure he promotes you, and I’ll even send you a few male models. A woman’s personal life is important, after all.” “Unlike Caleb… he can’t wait a single moment. He’s marrying me tomorrow. Oh, it’s just…” I tightened my grip on my gun, barely restraining the urge to put a bullet in her. “Let’s go.” I gave her a cold glance and started to walk away. But Helen blocked my path, pulling a diary from her bag. “These are all the sweet nothings Caleb wrote to me over the years when he was thinking of me. It’s too heavy to carry. Would you mind throwing it away for me, sister?” With that, she swished her skirt and walked away. I stood there, the cold wind whipping off the rocks, and with trembling hands, I opened the diary. April 12, 2024. The day I fought my way through an ambush to save him. He had written, “Helen, if I make it out of this alive, I’ll marry you.” August 5, 2023. The day I heard he had been ambushed by Edman during a business trip. I had charged into the enemy camp with two machetes to rescue him. He had written, “Darling, you smelled so sweet today.” January 24, 2021. The day he was arrested, and I was about to take the fall for him. He had written, “If it were you, Helen, I would never let you suffer like this.” Every word in the diary was a knife to the heart, a slow, agonizing evisceration. How many times had I begged Caleb to marry me? He would always kiss my forehead and say, “Valerie, wait for me.” “I have too many enemies. I’m afraid I haven’t cleared the way for you yet. When I have the whole city, I’ll marry you, okay?” But my pleas were always met with empty promises. Finally, a message came back from the other side. Two simple words, but they were a final, definitive blow, a point of no return. “Deal.” I tapped the screen, a desperate need to confirm one more thing. I asked, “On August 5, 2023, you were the one who ambushed Caleb, right?” The reply was instant, each word a drop of blood. “I was framed!” “No way. So you’re the one who chased me for nine blocks with two machetes over that? It wasn’t me!” I laughed at myself, a bitter, hollow sound. So, in Caleb’s eyes, I was just a clown, a toy to be played with. If that was the case, why should I stick around for their amusement? I finalized the details with Edman and started back. But then I heard Caleb talking to his men by the yacht. “Boss, the bride’s dress has arrived. It’s the ten-billion-dollar gown from the royal auction, just like you requested.” “We’re just worried about Valerie. If she makes a scene and exposes our location, we could all be wiped out.” Caleb was unconcerned. “I love Helen, and she will be my only wife. Tomorrow’s wedding must go off without a hitch. I will not tolerate any accidents.” “Not even from Valerie. I’ll make sure she stays quiet.” “And another thing. Keep your men’s mouths shut. If anyone leaks a single word, I’ll feed him to the sharks.” Even though I had already decided to leave, hearing the man who had once loved me so fiercely lie and belittle me like this still sent a sharp, stabbing pain through my heart. Back in my room, I packed my things. Besides my ID, I looked around at the arsenal of weapons and realized Caleb had never given me anything else. He only ever threw weapons at me, telling me to protect him. I had asked for dresses and jewelry before, but he had just scoffed. “Valerie, even in a dress and necklace, you don’t look like a woman. Don’t waste them.” But Helen’s luggage contained a truckload of jewels and beautiful dresses. Why could she wear them, but not me? I rummaged through my closet and pulled out a red dress from the very back. I put on a pair of high heels and even did my makeup. Just then, Helen burst into my room without knocking. “Valerie, you’ve seen the diary. Caleb’s true love is…” Her words died in her throat. She saw me, transformed, stunningly beautiful, and her jaw dropped. When she recovered, she frowned. “I thought you had some shame. I thought when you knew Caleb didn’t love you, you’d just slink away.” “But you’re actually trying to seduce him? You shameless hussy! I’ll tear you apart!” She lunged at me, trying to scratch my face, but her clumsy attack was easily deflected. I slapped her. “Valerie! You dare hit me? Caleb will make you pay!” she shrieked. I crossed my arms and watched her tantrum. “Thanks for the compliment. I’m definitely prettier than you.” The next second, she dropped to her knees and started slapping herself. “Sister, I’m the worthless one. I shouldn’t have married Caleb. As long as you don’t ruin the wedding, you can beat me to death!” I was confused. Suddenly, a foot came flying at me. “Valerie! Did you think my words were just empty threats? You dare bully Helen!” If Caleb’s furious kick had connected, I would have been half-dead. So, what was I to him? A hunting dog? A punching bag to be used and abused after I had served my purpose? I dodged just in time, but my high heel twisted my ankle. I winced, fighting back the pain as I looked at him. Caleb helped Helen to her feet, his cold eyes fixed on me. When he saw my face, his eyes lit up for a moment, but his words were still ice. “Valerie, no matter how beautiful you dress up, you’ll never be half as good as Helen in my eyes.” Helen sobbed, clinging to his arm. “Caleb, it was sister who forced it out of me. I didn’t mean to break my promise. I’m so sorry…” Caleb pulled her into his arms, his voice soft as water. “It’s a small thing. No one blames you.” I laughed bitterly. A moment ago, he was threatening his men with death to keep the wedding a secret. Now that Helen had blurted it out, it was just a “small thing.” She really could do no wrong in his eyes. He doted on her so much. So what was I? A fool? “So you’re really marrying her?” I stared at Caleb, my eyes burning. I desperately wanted to know how he would explain it to me. I thought he would at least be guilty, that he would panic, beg me to let it go, to let them be happy. But Caleb just frowned, unconcerned. “Yes. Tomorrow is the wedding. You can come, but you can’t make a scene. Valerie, don’t force my hand.” In that instant, my last shred of hope for Caleb shattered. It wasn’t that the time wasn’t right to marry me. It was that the person wasn’t right. With Helen, the tight security, the siege, none of it mattered anymore. He could even be so brazen as to benevolently allow me to attend their wedding. How could a person be so cruel? I fought back the tears, my voice a low, pained growl. “Get… out.” But Helen pushed her luck. “Caleb, I don’t know many people here. I was hoping sister could be our bridesmaid, but I’m afraid of offending her…” Seeing his beloved so timid and pleading, Caleb’s heart softened. He ordered me, “Valerie, since you already know we’re getting married, being a bridesmaid is a small thing. You wouldn’t mind, would you?” “I don’t want to see either of you. Get out!” My anger finally exploded. I grabbed a nearby club and chased them out. “Get out!” I slammed the door shut and collapsed to the floor, gasping for breath. A single tear of despair escaped my eye. Just then, my phone lit up. It was a message from Edman. I opened it, annoyed, but my face instantly flushed. “The red dress suits you. You look beautiful.” “Take off the heels. Put some medicine on your ankle.” I was surprised he knew about my ankle. But medicine? Just as I was thinking, a drone flew up to my window, carrying a small box. I opened it. Inside was another red dress and a tube of liniment. So he had found Caleb’s stronghold long ago. He just hadn’t made a move. I really had chosen the right ally. I had just applied the medicine and was about to get ready for bed when Caleb came back. He lifted me into his arms and gently placed me on the bed. He was holding a bottle of bruise ointment. “Shh, don’t be afraid. I’ll put it on for you.” It seemed to be raining outside. Caleb was soaked, but he carefully dried his hands before gently applying the ointment to my ankle. I was terrified of pain. When I first started fighting with Caleb, even a small scrape would make me cry uncontrollably. Every time I got hurt, Caleb, no matter how bruised he was himself, would stay by my side and let me bite his arm to bear the pain. Those years were hard, but I felt safe. But then, one day, his presence by my bedside disappeared. I had countless near-death experiences after that, countless scars, big and small, and he never gave me a second glance. But now that I wasn’t afraid of pain anymore, he was suddenly here to take care of me. A sudden pang of conscience? Caleb’s apologetic voice drifted over. “Valerie, you’ve lost weight. I’ve been neglecting you lately. I’m sorry.” “I didn’t tell you about the wedding because I was afraid you’d overthink it. Helen saved my life, and she was targeted because of me. I have to protect her.” “But don’t worry, I won’t touch her. I only love you. As soon as I deal with Edman, I’ll divorce her and marry you. Okay?” He massaged my ankle, but my eyes were fixed on the wedding ring on his finger. I looked at him, my gaze filled with a desolate sorrow. “Caleb, in all these years, did you ever love me?” He froze for a moment, then knelt beside me, pulling me into his arms, his voice thick with emotion. “Yes. I only love you, Valerie.” Then, he handed me a glass of milk, his eyes full of a soft, lingering affection. “Here, drink some milk. Get some sleep. You can go to the wedding tomorrow if you want. I won’t stop you.” But I could taste it. The milk was drugged. Enough to make me sleep through the entire next day. My throat tightened, and I could barely breathe. He was still lying to me. All for Helen, so she could marry him without a hitch. So this was his way of making me “stay quiet.” I drank all the milk, a single tear rolling down my cheek. My heart was dead. But Caleb smiled, a brilliant, dazzling smile. I closed my eyes under his gentle gaze. He didn’t know that after years of fighting for him, I had developed a tolerance to sleeping pills. A short while later, I heard Helen’s soft moans by my ear. “Caleb, you were gone so long, I thought you were staying here tonight.” Caleb kissed her passionately. “Of course not. She’s just a human shield for me. I’m still being watched by Edman. I need to keep her around to use her.” “Edman is wary of her. He won’t make a fatal move against me.” Helen giggled. “Where are your hands going? Naughty~” “Mmm, my favorite…” Caleb’s voice was a low, hoarse growl. The sound of rustling fabric grew louder. They were locked in a passionate kiss. My heart felt like it had been ripped open, a tearing, agonizing pain. With Caleb, I had always been unconditionally submissive. He had never been this doting, this crazed with me. “Valerie, can you take the fall for me?” “Valerie, I’m in a shootout with Edman. I need you.” And I would always agree, even if it cost me my life. Finally, they left. I lay awake the entire night.

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I’d been inseparable from the Sterling brothers since kindergarten—fifteen years of friendship. Then Phoebe transferred in. They stopped sitting by me. When I enforced class rules with her, they called me aggressive. When she cried over unfinished homework, Liam and Leo told me: “Transfer to Class 10, Celeste. You’re upsetting Phoebe.” I dug my nails into my palm and agreed. Someone protested: “The exams are close! And her leg—she’ll get bullied in Class 10!” Liam sneered: “She deserves it. We’ve protected her too long.” Leo added: “Time she tasted her own medicine.” Outside, I silently applied to a university abroad. Our paths would never cross again. 1. The Transfer Student’s Tears The new transfer student was crying again. All I did was ask her for today’s English homework, and she just broke down. “Why are you only asking me? There are so many other people you could be collecting from first.” “I know you’re just trying to humiliate me. You know my English is bad, so you’re deliberately targeting me.” “You do this every day, don’t you? Just to show everyone that Liam and Leo have bad taste, that they chose me for their study group instead of you.” “Celeste, why are you so manipulative?” With that, she ignored the bell and ran out of the classroom, her eyes red and teary. Liam and Leo stood up, shot me a dark look, and followed her out. I watched their retreating backs, a wave of dizziness washing over me. I remember when I was the one running ahead, the one they were worried about. When I was three, my mother remarried and we moved into my stepfather’s house. That’s when I met the Sterling twins, Liam and Leo, who lived next door. From that day on, the three of us were inseparable. The first time they saw me, they promised to be my knights forever. And they were. I had a hard time adjusting to my new home. I missed my real father and cried myself to sleep every night. They stayed with me, day and night, until I finally came out of my shell. We went to kindergarten, elementary, middle, and high school together, never once separated. They always said they would be with me forever, that they would always protect me. But everything changed when Phoebe arrived. Phoebe transferred from another school and was struggling to keep up. As the class representative, I was assigned by the teacher to tutor her. After I started tutoring her, I noticed she often skipped lunch. One day, I found her hiding in the classroom, eating a cold, hard bun with the free soup from the cafeteria. That’s when I realized how poor her family was. From that day on, I started looking out for her. I would bring her along when I went to the cafeteria with Liam and Leo. When she still couldn’t keep up with her studies, I invited her to join our study group. But I don’t know when it started. She grew closer and closer to Liam and Leo, and further and further from me. And now, she had completely taken my place. 2. The Knights’ Betrayal They finally came back at the end of the second period. Phoebe stood between them, her eyes still red. Liam gently stroked her hair and whispered something in her ear. She finally broke into a smile. Leo, seeing this, playfully tweaked her nose with his long fingers. She giggled, her smile even brighter. I watched them from a distance. They looked like the perfect couple from a teen drama, so beautiful, so enviable. Suddenly, a shadow fell over me. Liam, the older twin, was standing in front of me. His face was a picture of carefree charm in the sunlight, but his words were cold and cruel. “Celeste, can you transfer to Class 10?” “You keep upsetting Phoebe here. I’m worried about her.” It felt like a punch to the gut. The college entrance exams were just around the corner, and he wanted me to transfer to Class 10? The worst, most remedial class in the entire school? The one where the students would sometimes laugh at me and call me a cripple during gym class? I opened my mouth to refuse, but Leo strode over, his long legs covering the distance in a few steps. “Celeste, don’t make this hard for us, okay?” “Besides, we don’t want to go home and tell Auntie about you bullying another student. She just had the baby, we can’t have her getting upset.” A gaping hole opened in my chest, a chilling cold spreading through my body. They knew how terrible my relationship with my mother was. She didn’t like me because I looked too much like the father who had abandoned her. After she had a child with my stepfather, her dislike had only grown, to the point where it was almost unbearable. And now, they were using her as a threat against me. I looked at their faces, two identical masks of scorn. Something inside me died. I clutched my schoolbag tighter. “Fine. I’ll go.” 3. The Cripple’s Curse The Sterling family was one of the most powerful in the city. Several of the school buildings had been donated by them. All it took was a single word. I was transferred from the honors class to the remedial Class 10. As I left the classroom with my bag, countless pairs of mocking eyes followed me. Phoebe stood between Liam and Leo, a victorious, malicious smile on her face. “Celeste, I hope you’ll learn not to bully your classmates in Class 10.” “After all, the delinquents there aren’t as easygoing as I am.” “And with your bad leg… you should be careful. They might target you.” She stuck her tongue out playfully. Liam laughed as if he had just heard the funniest joke, and gently tugged at her hand. She tilted her head and smiled back at him. The sight was so bright it stung my eyes. But I thought, this is the last time. Liam and Leo, I’ve done what you asked. From now on, I don’t owe you anything. I didn’t say a word. I just lowered my head, picked up my bag, and limped away. My leg was bad. When I was six, Liam and Leo were fighting over a toy and accidentally fell into the road. I pushed them out of the way of an oncoming car, but I was pulled under the wheels myself. I’ll never forget that day. My world was a sea of red. My right leg suffered a comminuted fracture. I would never be able to dance again. When they heard the news, they almost went insane. They cried and promised they would be my legs forever. They wouldn’t let anyone make fun of me for my leg. I never thought “forever” would be so short. And now, they were among the ones who mocked me. 4. Hell’s Classroom Class 10 was even worse than I had imagined. The classroom was a chaotic mess of delinquents who had no interest in studying. The homeroom teacher assigned me a seat at the very back. It seemed everyone knew I had crossed the Sterling heirs, so they were all eager to get a piece of me. Especially my deskmate, a boy with rainbow-colored hair named Ryder. The moment I reached his desk, he viciously kicked my injured leg. My forehead slammed into the corner of the desk, and blood instantly gushed out. Seeing my pathetic state, he feigned a look of exaggerated shock, his eyes full of malice. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to.” “Celeste, I really didn’t know you were actually a cripple. I’m so, so sorry.” But then, in a voice only I could hear, he whispered, “Welcome to hell, little cripple.” “You should have known someone would get back at you for messing with Phoebe.” So, it was for Phoebe. But what had I done wrong? I went to the teacher’s office and told him Ryder had kicked me on purpose. But the students who had just been laughing at my misfortune all developed a sudden case of amnesia when the teacher questioned them. Not only did they refuse to testify for me, but they also claimed I had fallen on my own. When the homeroom teacher told me the result, a chilling cold washed over me. His voice was dismissive. “Celeste, I know you’re a good student academically.” “But as a student, good grades aren’t enough. You need to have good character.” “I heard you were transferred from the honors class for bullying another student.” “If you continue this behavior in my class, don’t blame me for being harsh.” “The college entrance exams are in a month. I don’t want you causing any trouble in my class during this time.” No one believed me. No one helped me. In that moment, I felt like I was three years old again, completely alone and helpless. My parents had divorced. My mother didn’t like me, but she refused to give up custody, just to spite my father. She hated my face because it reminded her of him. She had hurled endless insults and abuse at my three-year-old self. After she remarried, she simply ignored me. Even when I became a cripple, she didn’t shed a single tear for me. It wasn’t until my half-brother was born a little while ago that I realized. When he got sick, she would worry. When he had a fever, she would cry. It wasn’t that my mother didn’t know how to be a mother. She just didn’t want to be my mother. And now, even Liam and Leo had left me. I had no one to rely on. No one to love me. 5. The Exam Trap I limped back to the classroom. Seeing that the homeroom teacher was not on my side, Ryder became even more brazen. He kicked over my schoolbag, tore up all my textbooks, and dumped trash all over my desk. I held my breath against the stench and wiped my desk clean, bit by bit. I told myself, just endure it a little longer. The college entrance exams are in a month. After the exams, I’ll be gone. I’ll never have to see these disgusting people and things again. But fate is a fickle thing. Even my simplest wish was so hard to achieve. The day before the exams, Liam and Leo cornered me in the school hallway. They magnanimously announced, “Celeste, your punishment is over. you can come back to the honors class today.” Then they glanced at Phoebe, who was standing a short distance away, watching me with displeasure. “But when you come back, you can’t bully Phoebe anymore. Otherwise, we’ll have to punish you again.” At that, Phoebe smiled. But the hatred in her eyes was almost palpable. I touched my arm, which was bruised and purple from Ryder’s compass pokes, and shook my head. “No, thank you.” “I’m fine in Class 10.” I’ve been through the worst of it. One more day won’t make a difference. I limped past them. Behind me, someone kicked a trash can with a deafening crash. “Celeste, you’re so ungrateful!” Yes. I am ungrateful. So, let’s just never see each other again. I had refused Liam and Leo’s offer. But their actions had clearly made Phoebe feel threatened. After the last study hall, Ryder dumped another load of trash on me. I was covered in filth. I had to go to the restroom to clean up. But when I tried to leave, I found the door was locked. A chill ran down my spine. I had been locked in. I frantically searched my pockets for my phone, but it was gone. I suddenly remembered running into Phoebe on my way to the restroom. She had bumped into me, hard. It was her. She had stolen my phone. I pounded on the door, screaming for help. But there was no one. Everyone had gone home. Suddenly, I heard a light laugh from outside. It was Phoebe. “There’s no one out here, my dear class representative. You can just stay in there.” “I wonder… will you miss your exam tomorrow?” “Phoebe? Are you coming?” I thought I heard Liam’s voice. I started screaming his name, frantically. I hoped he would save me, just like he used to. But Phoebe kicked the restroom door and said, “Coming.” Then, silence. Liam was gone. He hadn’t heard my cries for help. The boy who had once promised that no matter where he was, he would come and protect me if I just called his name, was gone. The restroom grew dark. Phoebe had turned off the lights when she left. The small room was pitch black. I hugged myself, a wave of nausea, chest tightness, and anxiety washing over me. I wanted to vomit. Darkness pressed in on me like a demon. I trembled in the dark, my body shaking uncontrollably. I have claustrophobia, and the darkness only made it worse. Terrified, I bit down hard on my arm. I’m so young. I don’t want to die. I wished someone would come and save me. But I realized with a devastating clarity that no one would. My mother… she didn’t care about me at all. Liam and Leo… they used to care. But now, they cared about someone else.

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