Author: Momo Chan

A fire broke out in our apartment building. I woke up choking on smoke to find the apartment empty. Terrified, I called my husband, Ross, only to turn and see him burst through the front door, naked. He swept me into his arms and ran for the stairs. It was then that I saw them: the angry red scratches down his back, the countless dark bruises blooming on his neck. My vision blurred. “Why were you outside?” I sobbed, my pregnant belly tightening with a sharp, painful cramp. Through the chaos of the fleeing crowd, I saw a woman, her own clothes in disarray, clutching Ross’s coat and shoes. I knew her. She was the new secretary at his company, the one with eyes so much like mine. The man who had once treated me as his entire world had cheated. “Mom,” I said into the phone, a call that crossed an ocean, “I’ve decided to immigrate.” It was the final, definitive end for me and Ross. 1 “Doctor,” I began, my voice trembling, “I’m five months along. Is it still possible to terminate?” Ross had been by my side for every single prenatal appointment since I became pregnant. No matter how busy he was at work, he always made time. Now, as I watched his familiar silhouette pacing outside the examination room, a storm of reluctance and grief washed over me, but the question still escaped my lips. The doctor’s hand paused on my stomach. I flinched, and she quickly apologized before asking in surprise, “You want to terminate this pregnancy?” Seeing the resolve in my eyes, she answered thoughtfully, “It’s possible, but we’ll need the father’s signature.” She tried to persuade me, her voice gentle, but I couldn’t hear a word she was saying. Ross’s explanation for that night was that he’d had too much to drink at a business meeting and had stepped outside to be sick, stripping off his clothes in the process. I didn’t believe a word of it. Meanwhile, the story of Ross Mercer, the heroic husband who braved a fire to save his pregnant wife, was everywhere. The internet lauded him as the perfect man. The media dug up our entire love story—childhood sweethearts, married young, the wealthy CEO and his beloved wife. Photos of my priceless diamond wedding gown from our fairy-tale wedding went viral. Overnight, Ross’s love for me became a modern-day legend. I knew the love had been real. But I also knew it was gone. Ross’s heart had already strayed. After the check-up, he carefully helped me out of the room, his voice laced with concern for me and our child. I saw the furtive, cautious glances he kept shooting my way. I pretended not to notice and walked straight ahead. Though I planned to end the pregnancy, I still went through with the routine scans. As we were listening to the baby’s heartbeat, his phone rang. A subconscious glance was all it took for me to see her name: Ashley. He didn’t even wait to hear the rest of our child’s heartbeat, something he’d never done before. He stepped away to take the call. His tone was cold, distant, but I could hear the effort behind it, the careful mask. He frowned and said, “I’ll be right there.” He came back, his arm wrapping around my shoulders, and whispered his excuse. “A major client just arrived at the office. I have to go back for a bit. I’ll come pick you up later to take you home.” The doctor, as always, smiled and praised him for being such a wonderful husband. I just lowered my head, unable to force a smile of my own. After he left, I lay on the examination table, the steady, healthy rhythm of my baby’s heart echoing in my ears. I didn’t wait for him to pick me up. I took a cab home. When he arrived, he launched into his usual routine, trying to charm me, apologizing profusely for abandoning his wife and child for work. But the playful antics and sweet words that used to make me happy now felt hollow and rehearsed. His over-the-top performance was just another layer of camouflage for his betrayal. The more he tried, the bigger his guilt seemed. I gently pushed him away, pretending not to see the flash of disappointment in his eyes, and told him to go shower. As the sound of running water filled the bathroom, I stared at his blurred silhouette through the glass and finally made my decision. I sent the message. 【Doctor, I’ve decided to go through with the induction. Please schedule it for me.】 The child I had once anticipated with so much joy was not destined to be mine. If I couldn’t give him a happy, stable family, it was better for him not to be born at all. 2 Ross was laying out his clothes for the next day, a habit of his, his voice a constant stream of questions. “Honey, where’s my black tie?” “Sweetheart, what about my white trousers?” I sighed and went into the closet, finding each item for him. He wrapped his arms around me from behind, his lips pressing against the nape of my neck. His heavy breathing felt like a poison seeping into my heart, making my skin crawl. “My love,” he murmured, “what would I ever do without you?” His hands began to roam, but the moment he turned my face to his, he froze. “Ava? Why do you look so pale?” His eyes were still filled with that deep, adoring look, with no hint of insincerity. “Maybe you should come to the office with me tomorrow. I’m worried about you.” I just shook my head, silent. “Are you still angry about that night?” he asked softly. We both knew what he was talking about, but we had an unspoken agreement not to mention it. “No, don’t overthink it,” I said, pushing down the wave of nausea and patting his shoulder. He clung to me for a while longer before finally heading into the bathroom. The second I heard the shower start, I picked up his phone. The password was my birthday. He hadn’t changed it. The chat history was mostly business. On instinct, I opened Ashley’s social media feed. 【Afternoon tea from the boss. So good!】 【On a business trip with the boss today, and he bought me a necklace! Absolutely in love.】 【Who else has a boss that gives them a six-figure bonus for their birthday?!】 Every post was about him. They had been to Paris, Italy, Japan… She had photos from countless landmarks, her smile radiant, her eyes full of adoration. Ross wasn’t in any of the pictures, but I knew he was the one behind the camera. A sharp pain lanced through my chest. My gaze fell on his briefcase. From a hidden compartment, I pulled out his second phone. The password was my birthday again. A bitter, sickening feeling rose in my throat. He loved me so much, yet he couldn’t stop himself from straying. I opened his chat with Ashley. The last message was from her. 【After Ava has the baby, will you still be this good to me?】 It was accompanied by a cute, pouting selfie. Ross had replied with a simple, “Yes.” I didn’t have the courage to scroll up. The moment the water in the shower stopped, I turned off the screen and put the phone back. He came out and wrapped me in his arms, whispering the usual sweet nothings, telling me how much he loved me. But my mind was drifting away. Ross, when you say you love me, who are you really thinking of? When you look at me, whose face do you see? Thinking back, I should have known something was wrong the first time I met Ashley. She was practically my clone. At the time, Ross had dismissed it as a coincidence. But then, the calls from his “secretary” became more frequent, the reasons more trivial. A broken pipe, a burnt-out lightbulb, a lost cat, a missing ID… she could summon him with a single, insignificant phone call. He said she was just a young girl trying to make it on her own in the big city. He said she reminded him of me when I was her age. Each time, he would hold me and swear that I was the only one he would ever love. But this time, I couldn’t believe him anymore. His lies, his genuine affection for Ashley—they had become the blades that were tearing me apart. The next morning, I woke to the sound of her voice. I opened my bedroom door to see Ashley and Ross standing at the dining table, playfully arranging breakfast. “Stop it, you,” she giggled. “Boss, feed me!” she pouted, leaning closer. Ross smiled, a look of helpless indulgence on his face, and picked up a small dumpling to feed her. She playfully nipped his fingers, her eyes sparkling with flirtatious charm. He reached out to tickle her, trying to make her let go, and in that moment, our eyes met. 3 He pushed Ashley away instinctively, a look of panic on his face as he rushed toward me. “Did we wake you?” I pretended not to see, just shaking my head. Ashley darted out from behind him, squeezing between us. “Ava, the boss really, really loves you. Look, he went out and bought all this breakfast for you himself. Your favorite crab roe buns and taro cakes.” She pouted at Ross. “All I get are these boring old dumplings. What a mean boss.” She clung to my arm, making a face at Ross, who just smiled, a fond, doting look in his eyes. I stared at her, and the Van Cleef & Arpels necklace around her neck seemed to burn into my vision. The receipt for it was still in the pocket of Ross’s coat. I had once thought it was a gift for me. “It’s alright if the boss isn’t good to you,” I said coolly. “After all, Miss Lee is very good to herself. Buying such an expensive necklace on a whim.” With that, I turned and sat down at the table. The two of them were still frozen in place, one tense, the other still smiling. I couldn’t taste a thing during that breakfast. Before we left for the day, Ross insisted I come to the office with him. I had no interest, but no energy to refuse. But Ashley beat me to it, slipping into the passenger seat and rolling down the window. “Ava, I get carsick in the back. Would you mind sitting back there today?” I looked past her, my eyes meeting Ross’s. All I saw was his discomfort. “Ava,” he started, “Ashley hasn’t been feeling well…” I didn’t wait for him to finish. I just opened the back door and got in. The jolting of the car made my stomach clench, and a cold sweat broke out on my skin. I had to grip the handle just to stay upright. In the front, Ross and Ashley chatted and laughed as if I wasn’t even there. “Ava, why are you sweating?” Ross finally noticed me during a red light, turning to look back. I shook my head, pushing through the discomfort. After that, he kept looking back at me, so distracted he even ran a red light without realizing it. The whole world knew how much he loved me. But only I knew that his heart held another woman. Without even being aware of it himself, his heart was slowly, inexorably tilting toward Ashley. The girl who he said was “just like me.” At the office, Ross was constantly by my side, hugging me every few minutes. To any outsider, we looked like a deeply devoted couple, inseparable. But when I looked into his eyes, I could see Ashley’s face, her every smile and frown, filling his thoughts. I was just a tiny, 5% sliver. I felt sick. I made an excuse about needing some air and escaped his grasp. He looked hurt, a wounded expression in his eyes. 【Wow, this is the first time I’ve seen the boss’s wife. She’s so beautiful.】 【I know, right? They’re a perfect match.】 【But she and Ashley look so much alike!】 【Oh my god, is the boss such a romantic that he had to hire a clone of his wife as his secretary?】 I stood a short distance away, listening to the gossip, watching Ashley stare at Ross, her eyes red-rimmed. Our gazes met. Hers was full of resentment. I couldn’t tell if she was resentful about being my replacement, or just being a replacement in general. In the company breakroom, I pushed a freshly brewed cup of coffee toward Ashley. She shook her head. “I’m pregnant.” The coffee cup suddenly felt scalding hot in my hands. I almost lost my balance, but I forced myself to sit down. So, that was why he was always so concerned, so caring toward her. “I don’t know if I should congratulate you,” I said, my voice flat, “because… I’m terminating my pregnancy.” I pushed the surgical consent form and the divorce papers across the table to her. “If you can find a way to get Ross to sign these, his position is all yours.” “Really?” Ashley looked skeptical, her surprise mixed with suspicion. I nodded again. I had no tolerance for this kind of betrayal. A marriage couldn’t hold five people—me, him, her, and our two unborn children. I don’t know how she did it, but a few days later, she sent back the signed documents. I checked them carefully. It was definitely Ross’s signature. Somehow, though, I don’t think he knew what he had signed. On the day of the procedure, my mother flew back from overseas to be with me. “Your brother is back too,” she said. My heart skipped a beat. She was talking about Ethan Jiang, her second husband’s son, my stepbrother. My only childhood playmate. I nodded, feeling a strange unease. I had refused to immigrate with them because of Ross, and Ethan had been so angry he’d blocked me. We hadn’t spoken in ten years. But I didn’t have time to dwell on him. The most important thing now was the termination and the divorce. Fate, it seems, is a mischievous old man who loves a good show. At the hospital, my mother and I ran into Ross, who was there with Ashley for a check-up. Across the crowded waiting room, he saw me.

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Lysander tore up the marriage contract with my daughter to marry a mortal woman. He seized the dowry I had left for her. He even stole my daughter’s Celestial Core, all to grant that mortal woman immortality. On the mortal’s birthday, heedless of my daughter’s life hanging by a thread, he ripped out her Starlight Eyes and presented them as a gift. By the time I clawed my way out of the Maw, my daughter was clinging to life. Everyone in the Empyrean said the War-God was dead, fallen in the great war against the fiends. No one remembered my victories, and no one cared for a poor, orphaned girl. But those pampered celestials, fat on their leisure, had forgotten. Every ounce of their gilded honor was bought with my blood and bone. After five hundred years of being sealed in the Maw, I was finally free. The war had shattered my divine essence, my celestial frame nearly ground to dust. The fiends had thrown their entire race’s power into imprisoning me, certain I would perish. They were wrong. The thought of my daughter, my beautiful, radiant girl, was the one thing that kept me sane. I endured the soul-gnawing agony, the endless torment, and somehow, I survived. The moment I returned to the Empyrean, my only thought was to see her. But the return of a War-God shakes the celestial realm. Protocol demanded I first see the Celestial King and the assembled court. He held a grand feast in my honor, a celebration of my return. Yet, as I looked around the hall, the faces were a gallery of strained masks. There was no joy here. My eyes scanned the crowd until they landed on a familiar figure in a shadowed corner. Lysander, the man my daughter had chosen herself. The Celestial King had decreed their betrothal just before I left. They were surely married by now. I walked towards him, my heart filled with a hopeful ache. “Your power has certainly grown, Lord Lysander. Where is my Elara? Why hasn’t she come to greet me?” His gaze darted away, his head bowed as he mumbled something incoherent. Was he shy, meeting his mother-in-law again? I always said he lacked backbone. The sole heir of the House of the Phoenix, yet he was shortsighted and timid. If Elara hadn’t been so utterly smitten, I would never have approved of such a match. “Lysander, I am speaking to you. You are at this feast, so why is my Elara not with you?” My brow furrowed, a killing frost creeping into my voice. Knowing Elara, she should have been the first to rush into my arms. Her absence was a cold knot of dread in my stomach. He pursed his lips, taking a long moment before answering. “Elara has a fiery temper. We argued recently, and she stormed off in a rage. I’ve sent my people to search everywhere, but there’s been no sign of her…” His words dripped with blame, painting my daughter as reckless and immature. But one thing stood out with chilling clarity: he had merely sent people to look for her. What, then, was he doing? Rage flared in my chest. I drew my blade, its ethereal light shimmering in the grand hall, and pointed the tip at his throat. “I entrusted my daughter to you. How could you let her wander off alone?” But five hundred years had passed, and Lysander had grown bold. He drew Godsbane—the very sword of the War-God, my sword—and met my gaze without a shred of guilt. “Her temper is a storm I cannot contain. She’s spoiled and cruel. If not for my respect for your final request, I would have disciplined her long ago!” “Discipline the daughter of a War-God? You dare?” My blade lunged forward. Lysander sidestepped the attack. “It is your indulgence that made her so arrogant! She torments the palace staff and was cruel to Lila. I warned her many times, but she refused to listen…” Tormenting staff? My Elara was the soul of kindness. She wouldn’t harm a fly. And cruelty to another? Utter nonsense. But that name he mentioned… Lila. It sounded like a woman’s name. “Who is Lila?” At my question, a flicker of something—guilt? unease?—crossed his face. I’ve walked this world for ten thousand years. I knew a lover’s lie when I heard one. He had found someone new and was now blaming Elara for “tormenting” her. “Lysander,” I reminded him, my voice like ice, “you swore an oath to marry my Elara and no other.” I had no more time to waste on him. Finding Elara was all that mattered. Following the faint, thrumming call of my own blood in her veins, I navigated the winding paths of the upper realms, the signal leading me far from the opulent palaces. It led me to a dilapidated hovel in the Bound Quarter, a place for outcasts and servants. Outside the crumbling door, I heard a sharp, venomous voice. “You little bitch, that War-God mother of yours is long dead! Why are you still clinging to life? Just die and get it over with. Lady Lila is tired of us having to deal with you.” War-God mother… That was me. Which meant the person inside… was my Elara. A furious inferno erupted in my soul. I kicked the door off its hinges and stormed inside. The sight that greeted me froze the very blood in my veins. My mind went blank, a roaring void, as if the entire Empyrean had just collapsed upon me. “Elara! What… what have they done to you?” I dropped to my knees, gathering the frail, skeletal figure into my arms. Her life force was a guttering candle flame. Her Celestial Core was gone, and only the single drop of my War-God’s Ichor I’d placed in her heart was keeping her tethered to this world. She lay limply on the crude bed, her face a mask of desolate, vacant despair. This was my child, but a ghost of the girl I knew. When I left, I had arranged everything for her. How had my vibrant, cherished daughter become this broken thing? “…Mother? Mother, is that you?” Elara whispered, her voice a dry rasp. Her hands reached out, fumbling blindly in the air. It was only then that I saw it. My poor, darling girl… her eyes were nothing but hollow, empty sockets. “My child! Oh, my sweet girl, I’m so late.” Tears streamed down my face—I, who had not shed a tear in ten thousand years of bloodshed, was weeping uncontrollably. “Who did this? Who did this to you?” All of Elara’s former vibrancy was gone. She collapsed into my embrace, her sobs weak and broken. Her Celestial Core had been carved out, her Starlight Eyes gouged from their sockets. The Ichor in her chest pulsed with a faint, fading light. Soon, it would be depleted. And then… she would be extinguished forever. My body trembled with a fear I had never known, a terror more profound than any I had faced on the battlefield. “Who are you? How dare you trespass in Lady Lila’s residence?” The shrill, cruel voice sounded again from behind me. Elara gasped for breath, but instead of words, a trickle of blood spilled from her lips. “I have never heard of any ‘Lady Lila’ in the Empyrean,” I snarled, gently laying Elara down and turning to face the servant. “And who gave her the right to torture the daughter of a War-God?” “Hah!” The woman spat on the ground, her face a caricature of smug disdain. “There is only one War-God in the Empyrean now, and that is my Lady Lila’s husband, the mighty Lord Lysander! You? You’re just some imposter trying to cash in on a dead name!” Footsteps sounded at the door. An older man and a younger boy entered. The old man was a vile-looking creature, his words slurring. “H-how dare you! Trespassing in the War-God’s residence! G-guards! Seize this little bitch and this lying hag!” The boy next to him nodded eagerly, puffing out his chest with borrowed arrogance. I could bear it no longer. With a wave of my hand, ropes of pure energy bound the three of them like trussed-up pigs and tossed them into a corner. I immediately turned back to Elara, pouring my divine power into her, doing everything I could to stabilize her fragile hold on life. Behind me, the wails and screams began. It turned out they were a family. “I’m Lady Lila’s own father! You’re in for it now, you old crone! My son-in-law is the War-God of the Empyrean, Lord Lysander himself!” The father’s screeching was grating. My hand flicked. A blade of pure energy shot from my fingertips and pierced his heart. He died before his body hit the floor. His wife and son stared, their eyes wide with disbelief. The boy pointed a trembling finger at me. “You… you killed him! Aren’t you afraid of what my brother-in-law, the War-God, will do to you?” Afraid? There was no one in the Empyrean who had the right to make me afraid. It all clicked into place. These were the family of the mortal, Lila, whom Lysander had mentioned. And Lysander had not only abandoned my Elara for this woman, but he had allowed Lila and her vile family to torture my daughter to the brink of death. I sent another blade of energy forward, but this time, I did not grant them a quick end. My Elara had suffered. A swift death was a mercy they didn’t deserve. “Shut your mouths,” I commanded, my voice low and seething as the killing intent from a thousand battlefields washed over them. “One more sound, and I will unmake you.” The two of them froze, petrified. A dark stain spread across the floor beneath them as their bladders gave way. With a single, sweeping gesture, I obliterated the wretched hovel. I stuffed the whimpering mother and son into a bestiary pouch and, cradling the barely conscious Elara, returned to the Aegis Hall—our home. But as I approached the grand entrance, I stopped, a bitter, mirthless laugh escaping my lips. The place had a new master. The two lanterns crafted from the bones of slain fiends, my trophies, were gone. In their place hung sickly-sweet pink lanterns woven from cherry blossoms. “Where are the Bone-Fiend Lanterns of the Aegis Hall?” I asked a nearby servant, my voice tight. The servant looked me up and down, his expression disdainful. “Lady Lila is compassionate and kind. She could not bear the sight of those macabre things, so they were taken down and sent for purification rites.” He then shot a venomous glare at the girl in my arms. “That Elara tried to stop it. If Lord Lysander hadn’t struck her unconscious and destroyed the lanterns himself, she would have caused an even bigger scene. Truly, a weed that refuses to die. Why did you have to bring her back?” His voice was filled with annoyance, as if he assumed I was just another servant of the hall. The rage that had been simmering within me finally boiled over. My poor Elara, beaten for trying to protect my legacy. I had told her those lanterns were a symbol of my trial to become the War-God. Of course she would defend them. And this Lila… to hell with her compassion. Where was her compassion when the fiends were slaughtering innocents across the realms? “You dare call my daughter a weed?” My voice dropped to a lethal whisper as I advanced on him. I seized him by the throat, my fingers like iron bands. “It is vermin like you who should be stamped out first.” He choked and sputtered, his life slowly crushed out of him by my power. I kicked open the doors of the Aegis Hall, ready to bring my daughter home. But an invisible barrier, a ward, blocked my path. “Since when does my own hall have wards placed against me?” With a contemptuous sweep of my hand, I shattered the shimmering barrier into a thousand pieces. From within the hall, a woman of exquisite, fragile beauty emerged. She was followed by a phalanx of divine guards, who immediately surrounded Elara and me. One of them recognized me. “Aethel… Lady Aethel? Is that you?” Lady Aethel. So, with Lysander now the “War-God,” my old subordinates no longer dared to call me by my true title. “What is this?” I asked, my voice dangerously calm. “Have you come to bar my way?” The guards exchanged uneasy glances, but none of them stepped back. Marcus, a man I had personally raised from a beaten servant to my second-in-command, stepped forward. “My lady, times have changed. This is now the residence of Lord Lysander, the War-God. You were my benefactor, and I don’t wish for this to be ugly. I must ask you to leave.” The breath I was holding finally tore from my lungs in a ragged gasp, and I tasted blood. “In the Great War,” I began, my voice trembling with betrayal, “I stood alone to defend this realm so that all of you could live. You knelt behind me then, swearing oaths to protect Elara with your lives…” I gestured to my broken child. “Now my daughter has been nearly murdered, and you stand here as accomplices to her tormentors?” Marcus’s face was a mask of conflict. He clenched his fists. “Lady Elara’s fate is of her own making. You yourself taught us: we serve justice, not family. If she hadn’t been so arrogant, so cruel to Lady Lila, none of this would have happened…” “Fine,” I snarled, the word ripping from my throat. “Fine. A fine lesson in justice.” Since they all believed us to be the villains, I would show them what true villainy looked like. I unleashed only a fraction of my power, but it was enough. The self-righteous guards who once served me were thrown back, broken and gasping, left with just enough life to feel their failure. “Learn this lesson well,” I spat at their crumpled forms. “This is what it means to throw your weight around.” With them neutralized, I turned my attention to the delicate, tear-streaked beauty before me. This had to be Lila. She did have a face that inspired pity. “Your eyes,” I said with a slow, chilling smile as I stepped toward her and lifted her chin with my fingers. “They are quite captivating. Tell me, do the Celestial Core and Starlight Eyes of a War-God’s daughter sit well within you?” I had felt it the moment I saw her. Within her body pulsed the divine power that belonged to my daughter. She didn’t speak, only let two perfect streams of tears roll down her cheeks before sinking to her knees in a graceful heap. “Lila greets Aunt Aethel,” she whispered, her voice trembling beautifully. “I never asked for the Celestial Core or the Starlight Eyes. If they displease you, Aunt, you may take them back for Sister Elara this very moment. These last few days, I have been tormented by guilt, unable to sleep, for I never wished to take what belonged to my sister… Thank the heavens you have returned. Please, take them back. It would be a release for me…” She closed her eyes, a flawless performance of a martyr awaiting her fate. I was not some fool to be swayed by such a pathetic, calculated display. But just as I reached out to reclaim what was stolen, Lysander appeared. “Stop! Get your hands off Lila!” he roared, his face contorted with fury as he rushed to shield her. “Aethel, you go too far! The Empyrean is no longer your personal fiefdom. I suggest you learn some restraint.” My fiefdom? The absurdity was breathtaking. When the celestial realms were weak and faltering, I was the only one who could lead their armies. A woman, fighting for ten thousand years, who single-handedly drove back the fiends and secured a hundred-thousand-year truce. And now that peace reigned, my sacrifice was twisted into tyranny? There was nothing left to say. Elara needed to be healed. I drew my power, ready for battle. “Lysander, you conspired with others to harm my daughter, to nearly extinguish her life. Today, as her mother, I will claim justice for her!” “Watch your words, Aethel,” he retorted, parrying my initial assault. “I never harmed Elara. Your accusations are baseless.” A coward who wouldn’t even admit to his own deeds. I allowed a sliver of Elara’s fading life force to flare out from my arms. “Look! Look what you have done to my child, and you still dare to deny it?” Lysander faltered for a second, a flicker of shock on his face, and my energy blade scored a deep cut across his shoulder. “How… How could Elara’s life force be so faint? Who did this to you? Who hurt you?” “Oh, spare me the act,” I sneered, my voice dripping with contempt. “I rescued my daughter from a squalid hovel owned by your new War-Godship. It seems the dogs you keep have learned to bite.” My eyes blazed with a murderous light. I wanted to tear him limb from limb. Lysander’s expression hardened. “What hovel?” he demanded coldly. And there it was. He didn’t know. He had no idea that the precious Lila he protected with his life had tried to murder my Elara.

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The world knows me as Empress Seraphina, cherished above all else, the apple of the Emperor’s eye. What the world does not know is that my favorite secret is slipping out of the palace disguised as a young nobleman to watch the artistes at The Gilded Lyre. Today, the Emperor left under a simple guise to oversee drills at the city’s military garrison. Seizing the opportunity, I slipped out once more. I was enjoying the performance from a balcony seat when a lavishly dressed young lord and his retinue of thugs stormed into the hall. “My father’s finally let me off the leash! At last, a chance to see the beauties of The Gilded Lyre for myself!” he bellowed. “What’s this nonsense about ‘artistry, not favors’? I am a lord’s heir! Whomever I desire, I shall take!” This was The Gilded Lyre, where the artistes sold their craft, not their bodies. The sudden intrusion sent a wave of fear through the women on stage. The music faltered, the dancing ceased. The man advanced with a predatory smirk. “My father is the Lord Marshal of the Imperial Cavalry. To be noticed by me is the greatest fortune of your lives. Isn’t being my mistress better than being a common whore?” To have my rare escape interrupted like this… I frowned. Some petty lordling? I am the Empress. 1 The suffocating formality of the palace was a cage, and The Gilded Lyre was my one true sanctuary. Emperor Cassian knew of my little eccentricity and had always turned a blind eye to my visits. But today, just as I was losing myself in the show, chaos erupted below. I stood and peered over the railing. The man leading the disruption, the self-proclaimed heir, had to be Lord Sebastian, the only son of the Lord Marshal, Gideon Valerius. A lecherous grin was plastered across his face, his gaze slithering over the performers like a venomous snake. “The Gilded Lyre truly lives up to its name. These women are a cut above the common wenches in the brothels,” he sneered. “Today, this young lord will show you all some proper affection.” Madam Fleur, the proprietress of the house, was visibly terrified, but seeing the trembling girls on her stage, she squared her shoulders and stepped forward, forcing a veneer of calm. “Ah, Lord Sebastian! What a pleasant surprise to have you grace our establishment today.” “As all in the Capital know, the girls of The Gilded Lyre offer their art, not their bodies. I must ask you not to make things difficult for a humble woman like myself.” Lord Sebastian tore his eyes from the stage and fixed them on her. “You know who I am, yet you still dare to speak to me this way?” he scoffed. “Artistry, not favors? What a joke! When I take an interest in someone, I do as I please. Who are you to object?” He looked back to the stage and pointed a finger at one of the dancers. “You. Come down here. Let me have a proper look at you.” The girl’s face went deathly pale, but she stood frozen, unwilling to move. Madam Fleur took another step forward, blocking his view. “My lord, all the girls here are…” This time, she didn’t finish. Sebastian swung a fist, striking her hard in the chest. She flew backward, clutching her sternum, unable to rise. He glanced at her pathetic form with a contemptuous smirk and nodded to his men. They understood instantly, dragging the terrified girl from the stage and throwing her at Sebastian’s feet. My hands clenched the balcony railing, my knuckles turning white. That man, Gideon Valerius! A decorated war hero, and this is how he raised his son? Beside me, my lady-in-waiting, Lily, saw my grip and shook her head, her brow furrowed with worry. “My lord, you mustn’t. We are already breaking imperial decree by being here in disguise. We cannot afford more trouble.” “If you feel for these women, we can send the Imperial Guard when we return to the palace,” she whispered urgently. “If your identity is exposed, it will put His Majesty in a terribly difficult position.” Lily was my closest confidante. Whenever we left the palace, she called me ‘my lord’ and the Emperor ‘His Majesty.’ I understood her caution. I hesitated, but then Madam Fleur’s cry pierced the air again. “My lord, I beg of you, you cannot do this!” “These are good girls, trying to make an honest living with their talents. If you truly admire one, speak to her with kindness!” I looked down to see Sebastian forcing the young dancer into his arms, his foul mouth moving towards her face. She struggled desperately, but his strength was too much. In the split second before his lips touched her, I could no longer hold back. My voice boomed across the hall. “Stop!” 2 Seeing that scene, I cast all of Lily’s warnings to the wind. I understood her fears, of course, but as the Empress, if I could not protect a few women in a hall, how could I claim to protect the people of an empire? How could I be the Mother of the Realm? My shout drew Sebastian’s attention. His eyes swiveled up to meet mine. “Well, well. It seems we have a white knight for this fair maiden.” Lily tugged at my sleeve, her eyes darting nervously towards the thugs standing behind him. I knew we were outnumbered. Clearing my throat, I projected an air of authority. “I overheard you from my balcony. You must be the heir to the Lord Marshal’s house, are you not?” “A man of your station can have any woman he desires. Why trouble the artistes of The Gilded Lyre?” “Perhaps you could do me the honor of letting this matter rest for today?” Hearing my words, Sebastian released the girl and studied me, a calculating look in his eyes. “Do you an honor? And which noble house do you belong to, pray tell? I don’t recognize your face.” I cursed him silently. Which house? The Imperial House, you dolt! When I didn’t answer, he snorted and looked away. “Can’t even name your house. I suppose your family has no one of rank at court.” “You’re dressed well enough. At best, you’re the son of some lowly merchant. What gives you the right to speak to me?” “Now, get lost before you ruin my mood, or I’ll have you killed.” As he spoke, he reached for the girl again. Madam Fleur scrambled to her feet. Though she was trembling with fear and pain, she shielded the dancer with her own body. “My lord, they are all respectable girls. They came to The Gilded Lyre because they trusted me.” “I beg you, my lord, have mercy. Let them go.” As she spoke, she began to sink to her knees. Sebastian’s face twisted with impatience. He slapped her hard across the face, his voice dripping with venom. “I believe I told you once already. I am a lord’s heir. That I desire them is the greatest fortune of their lives.” “If you cannot understand simple words, then don’t blame me for what happens next.” “You are nothing but a collection of glorified whores, and you dare to bargain with me? One more word out of you, and I’ll have all of you shipped to the garrison to serve as camp whores!” The dancer behind Madam Fleur turned, gave a long, sorrowful look to her sisters on the stage, and then knelt before Sebastian. “My lord, you may do with me as you wish. I have only one request.” “I will go with you, if you will spare my sisters and Madam Fleur.” The girl knelt there, her eyes red and brimming, but she fought back her tears with fierce pride. This display seemed to amuse Sebastian. He grabbed her by the chin, his lust stark and undisguised. “You are in no position to bargain with me!” I could not bear it a moment longer. I rushed down, pulled the girl to her feet, and stood face-to-face with Sebastian, my eyes blazing. “The Lord Marshal fights on the battlefield to protect the people of this empire. Is this the lesson in honor he taught his son?” “You have spent years at his side in military camps. Do you think our soldiers shed their blood on the front lines, defending our homes and families, so that you could terrorize women in their name?” “Does this empire have no laws? Is there no justice?” My words were sharp and clear, but Sebastian only sneered, looking at me as if I were something he’d scraped off his boot. “Laws? A lowly merchant’s son dares to speak to me of laws?” “Fine. Today, I will teach you what the law is!” The moment he finished speaking, his men surged towards me. “My lord!” As Lily cried out, my nobleman’s hat was knocked from my head in the scuffle. A cascade of dark hair tumbled down my back. 3 Sebastian’s anger instantly transformed into stunned admiration. He raised a hand, halting his men. “Well, well. Not a young lord after all, but a lovely little lady.” “For such a pretty thing to play the hero… could it be you’ve taken a fancy to me?” “Come, little lady. I will be sure to treat you very, very well.” He advanced on me, his grin widening into a sickening leer. Lily threw herself in front of me, glaring at him with defiance. Sebastian paused, then reached out and snatched the cap from her head as well. “Just as I thought. No young man could be this pretty. Two little ladies, then.” “And you,” he said, looking at Lily, “you must be her maid. A waste not to enjoy you both.” “My men have followed me out today. It wouldn’t be right for me to have all the fun, would it?” At his words, his thugs swarmed Lily, pulling her away. I lunged to get her back, but Sebastian grabbed me by the waist, his grip like iron. I spun around and shoved him away. “Sebastian Valerius, I am warning you! If you dare to touch a single hair on our heads today, I swear I will have your entire house buried for it!” He showed no fear, licking his lips as his eyes devoured me. “Little lady, you still don’t seem to understand the situation, do you?” “My father is the Lord Marshal, appointed by the Emperor himself. I could marry a princess if I wished. What right does a mere merchant’s daughter have to threaten me?” “You are quite beautiful, I’ll give you that. How about this: if you agree to be my mistress, I will let these women of The Gilded Lyre go. What do you say?” I snapped. I slapped him hard across the face. “Insolence!” The lust in his eyes curdled into pure malice. He ran his tongue over the inside of his cheek and grabbed a fistful of my hair. “You bitch! You refuse my generosity?” “It is your great fortune that I even look at you, and you dare to lecture me? Who the hell do you think you are?” “You truly don’t fear death, do you? Then watch. Open your eyes and watch what happens to your little maid!” He yanked me forward, forcing my head to face Lily, and roared at his men. “You’ve all been cooped up in the garrison for too long, haven’t you? This little maid is quite a morsel, isn’t she? So soft, so tender. She’s yours.” “Show this little girl a good time.” “I want her mistress to see, to understand what happens when you defy me.” At his command, his men, who had been holding back, rubbed their hands together and closed in. The leader ripped away Lily’s outer tunic. Her pale skin was exposed to the room, and the men’s eyes glinted with a sharper hunger. I struggled with all my might, trying to break free. Strands of my hair were torn from my scalp, but I couldn’t move. Seeing Lily, clad only in her chemise, scrambling backward on the floor in terror, I found my voice and screamed. “How dare you!” “I am the reigning Empress! This is Lily, First Lady of the Empress’s Quarters!” “I’d like to see which one of you dares to touch her now!” 4 The moment my words rang out, Sebastian burst into laughter. “The Empress? If you’re the Empress, then I’m the Emperor!” “The Empress lives in seclusion. Why would she ever appear in a den of vice like this? Who do you think you’re fooling?” “What, you finally realize my father is second only to the Emperor himself? Are you scared now?” As he laughed, his grip loosened. I seized the chance, spun around, and kicked him with all my strength between the legs. He doubled over, gasping in pain. I scrambled to Lily’s side, snatching her torn tunic from the floor and throwing it over her shoulders. Sebastian, his face contorted in agony, pointed a trembling finger at me and roared. “This bitch! Beat her! Beat her senseless! The ungrateful wretch!” His men fell upon us, and a rain of fists and feet descended on me and Lily. She tried desperately to shield me, screaming at Sebastian. “This is the Empress! Are you all truly so eager to die?” “Do you think the law cannot touch you? When His Majesty learns of this, can you possibly bear the consequences?” “Stop! Stop it at once!” Sebastian strode forward and kicked Lily hard in the chest, hissing through clenched teeth. “The law? I am the law!” “You two madwomen seem to have become addicted to your own play-acting. The Empress? Do you even know which way the palace gates face?” He shoved Lily into the arms of one of his men, a terrifying darkness in his eyes. “This little maid is a gift to you all. Have your fun. If she dies, the blame is mine!” Then, his gaze fell on me. He grabbed my hair again, forcing my head up to meet his eyes. “As for you, you should thank that pretty face of yours. Otherwise, you’d be nothing but a toy for my servants as well.” “Come. Serve me well. If you please me, I might permit you to be my mistress.” He started dragging me towards a private room upstairs. I clawed at his face, my nails leaving bloody trails down his cheeks. “Sebastian Valerius, I am the Empress of this realm!” “Send a man to the military garrison right now! The Emperor is there today, inspecting the troops! Tell him I am at The Gilded Lyre, and he will come at once!” “Let Lily go now! If you don’t, when the Emperor arrives, I will make your entire house wish for death!” Cassian knew I loved to slip out of the palace. The mention of The Gilded Lyre would be enough. My scratching had broken his skin. His face turned livid with rage. He threw me to the ground and began kicking me relentlessly. “The Emperor? You dare mention the Emperor, you bitch?” “You should have done your research before starting this farce! If the Emperor were truly at the garrison, why would my father have given me the day off?” “I am a lord’s heir! It’s one thing for you to impersonate nobility in front of me, but to impersonate the Empress? I think you’ve grown tired of living!” Lily’s clothes were nearly shredded, and her terrified sobs echoed through the cavernous hall. I ignored the searing pain in my body and crawled to her, trying to shield her with my own. But Sebastian gave me no respite. He dragged me away from her, his fingers digging into my jaw. “Since you don’t want to join me in the private room, we can do it right here!” His men, grinning, swarmed around Lily, while his own hands began to grope me with desperate impatience. Madam Fleur and the other artistes were kneeling in a circle on the floor, pleading for us. “My lord, please let them go.” “From their clothes, these two ladies are clearly from a wealthy family. What if this causes trouble?” “We beg you, my lord, spare these two girls.” My voice was hoarse as I screamed at Sebastian. “Even if you don’t believe me! Have you considered the possibility—even one in a million—that I truly am the Empress?” “After what you have done to me today, can you bear the consequences? Can your family bear the consequences?” My outer robes were in tatters, my tunic hanging loosely from my chest. I could only cross my arms tightly over myself to keep from being completely exposed. When Sebastian couldn’t pry my arms away, he began slapping me again and again. He seemed to have lost all control. His breath came in ragged gasps as he looked around, snatched a porcelain vase from a nearby table, and brought it crashing down on my head. “I’ll bear the consequences? First, you should think about the consequences of impersonating the Empress!” “Impersonating royalty is a crime punishable by the execution of your entire clan! And you dare to impersonate the Empress herself!” “Everyone knows the Emperor adores the Empress! For her, he has even closed the royal concubinate and sworn never to take another consort!” “I’ll tell you what, you bitch. Become my mistress, and you might escape this. Otherwise, I will see every last member of your clan put to death!” The vase shattered. Shards flew everywhere. A warm liquid began to drip down my face. Lily’s bloodcurdling scream tore through the air beside me. “Your Majesty!” And in the next second, another voice, sharp and clear, sliced through the air above The Gilded Lyre. “Make way for the Emperor!” “Make way for the Lord Marshal!”

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For the Memorial Day weekend, I booked tickets to take my whole family on a trip. But when my husband, Ryan, saw the booking confirmation, his face changed instantly. He snatched my phone and tried to cancel everything. The trip was incredibly affordable; I didn’t understand why we couldn’t go. Without any explanation, he locked me in the house and beat me senseless, screaming, “Let’s see you try to run off to a place like that again!” I was locked up for three whole days, dizzy with hunger. When I finally managed to steal his phone to call my parents for help, my father, who had always doted on me, slapped me across the face. My mother grabbed a broom and beat me again, cursing under her breath. “No, we can’t let her go to that place!” “We have to break Chloe’s legs, just to be safe!” I didn’t understand why they were doing this to me. I struggled with all my might, but they caught me and hacked off my legs with an axe. Staring at my amputated stumps, my heart turned to ash. My parents cheerfully brought me home to “recover.” I stared at them, my eyes burning with hatred, and demanded to know what was so wrong with that place. Their faces stiffened. Then, they pushed me out of the tenth-floor window. My body shattered on the pavement. I died instantly. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the first day of the Memorial Day weekend. 1 My husband, Ryan, had just come home from work and pulled me into a tight hug. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. Work has been insane lately. I haven’t had any time for you.” “This long weekend, wherever you want to go, I’ll take you. Okay?” The familiar voice in my ear snapped me back to reality. I instinctively broke free from his embrace and frantically fumbled for my phone. I flipped it open. The date read: May 23, 2025. I had been reborn. And I was back on the first day of the holiday weekend. In my past life, Ryan had been buried in work. So when the holiday finally came, I was thrilled to plan a family trip. I had told him about my plans beforehand. He hadn’t seemed strange at all then; he’d happily agreed. He even took three extra days off to extend our vacation. He had been looking forward to this trip. But the moment I bought the tickets and booked the hotel, he had only to glance at the reservation details before his entire demeanor shifted. He’d snatched my phone and, without a word, started canceling the tickets. Confused, I assumed he was worried about the cost. “Honey, I heard this place is a great value for tourists,” I’d explained quickly. “It won’t be too expensive.” He ignored me and continued tapping on the screen. Annoyed, I grabbed my phone back. In response, Ryan punched me squarely in the face, roaring, “What the hell were you planning to do in a place like that?” In three years of marriage, he had never been so furious. I was terrified, my body trembling uncontrollably. I clutched my face, my voice shaking. “What do you mean, ‘a place like that’? It’s just a state park. What do you think it is?” But he wouldn’t listen. He locked me in the house and beat me. “Let’s see you try to run off there again!” he’d snarled. For three days, he held me captive, confiscating my phone. I was starving and dizzy. When he went to take a shower, I stole his phone and called my parents for help. They rushed over. But when they arrived, Ryan wasn’t scared at all. He looked at me with pure defiance. My mother hugged me, crying, while my father grabbed Ryan by the collar. “It was just a trip! Why did you lock Chloe up?” Ryan didn’t answer. He just handed my phone to my dad. The moment my father saw the booking information, the color drained from his face. He looked at me in horror, his hand trembling as he struck me across the face. My left cheek swelled instantly. My mother cried out, shielding me. “What are you doing, you old fool?” “Chloe just wanted to go on a little trip! Do you have to hit her for that?” My father ground his teeth and showed the phone to my mother. My mother, who had been protecting me just a second ago, froze as if struck by lightning. After a long moment, she shoved me away. She ran to the kitchen, grabbed a broom, and started beating me with all her strength. “You wretched thing! We raised you for nothing!” “Tell us! Why did you want to go to a place like that?” My mind was a whirlwind of confusion. “Mom, what are you talking about? What is ‘a place like that’? Just tell me!” She didn’t answer, just glared at me with hatred and said to my father, her voice grim, “We can’t let her go.” She paced back and forth, her mind racing. Then, an idea seemed to strike her. “Let’s just break her legs. Then she’ll never be able to leave the house again.” My eyes widened in terror. My whole body shook. The destination was just an ordinary state park. Why did the sight of the tickets make them react as if they were facing an invading army? I saw them coming towards me with an axe. I scrambled to my feet and ran, but Ryan tackled me, pinning me to the floor. I sobbed, asking them what I had done wrong. They didn’t answer. They stuffed a rag in my mouth and then, with a knife and an axe, they started hacking at my legs. The pain was so intense I nearly passed out. I struggled, begging them to stop. But they were like demons from hell, ignoring my pleas. They severed my legs completely, bone and flesh, leaving a pool of crimson on the floor. I fainted from the agony. When I woke up, I was in a hospital. They had amputated what was left. My parents smiled as they put me in a wheelchair and took me home. I screamed at them hysterically. “Why? Why would you do this to me?!” My mother’s face turned grim. My father slapped me. “You ungrateful wretch! All our efforts on you were wasted!” I stared at them, stunned. A moment later, my mother let go of my wheelchair, and I was rolling towards the open tenth-floor balcony. “Since you’re so ungrateful, you might as well die!” she yelled. I plummeted, my body shattering on impact. But by some cruel miracle, I didn’t die instantly. As I lay there, my breath a faint whisper, desperately trying to call for help, Ryan appeared. The man who had once loved me deeply. He knelt down and choked the last breath from my body. Even in death, I didn’t understand why the booking confirmation made them want to kill me. But now, I have another chance. This time, I will find out the truth. 2 With that thought, I immediately turned off my phone. Last time, I had willingly told Ryan about the booking. So this time, if I just canceled the tickets before he found out, everything would be fine. But I hadn’t expected that simply turning off my phone would arouse his suspicion. He feigned a pout. “What’s wrong, honey? Got something on your phone you don’t want me to see?” My heart leaped into my throat, but I forced a smile. “That’s right. A secret message from my lover next door. Can’t let you see that.” Ryan chuckled and pulled me into another cloying embrace. “So, is this lover of yours coming on the trip with us?” “If you don’t mind, I could invite him along.” “You dare!” Ryan playfully pinched my nose, a hint of jealousy in his tone. “I don’t even know where we’re going, and you’re already planning to bring someone else? You’re unbelievable!” I put on my usual playful pout. “A secret destination is the best part of any surprise trip. Don’t worry, you’ll love it!” He smiled, stroking my hair. “Alright, alright. I’m eager to see where my dear wife is taking me.” “I’ll tell you after my shower,” I said casually, grabbing my phone and heading for the bathroom. The destination was one I had carefully chosen. I’d barely seen any negative reviews online. Still, I decided to cancel the tickets in the bathroom first, and then do a deep dive to figure out what the hell was wrong with that place. But the moment I stepped into the bathroom, a cold dread washed over me. I had grabbed the wrong phone. I immediately opened the door to swap them. But it was too late. I saw Ryan staring at a brightly lit screen, his expression unreadable. He was looking at my phone. The moment he saw me, he started walking towards me. I instinctively tried to run, but he grabbed my arm in a death grip. Before I could say a word, he raised his hand and slapped me hard across the face. “You could have gone anywhere! Why did you have to pick a place like that?” I couldn’t understand how the man who had been so gentle and loving just a second ago could transform into this monster at the sight of a booking confirmation. The malice in his eyes was something I had never seen before. I was trembling with fear, but a plan quickly formed in my mind. I dropped to my knees, feigning submission. “Honey, I really didn’t know we couldn’t go there. If you don’t want to go, I’ll cancel the tickets right now!” “How about we go somewhere else for the holiday? We could go to the Grand Canyon! We could hike, see the sunset!” But my words didn’t placate him. They only made him angrier. “You had the thought, and now you dare talk to me about another trip? Are you trying to run away?” He advanced on me menacingly, reaching out to grab me. I dodged his hand and fled desperately to the balcony. Looking down at the people milling about below, an idea struck me. I screamed at the top of my lungs. “Help! Somebody help! Domestic abuse! He’s trying to kill me!” It was just after work hours, and many people were out for a walk in the complex. My cries drew their attention. I immediately climbed over the railing, half my body dangling over the edge, and pleaded with Ryan. “Honey, I just wanted to go on a trip! If you don’t want me to go, that’s fine! Why are you trying to kill me?” Ryan gritted his teeth. “You bitch! Shut up!” he roared. He wanted to drag me back inside, but the building’s security team had already broken down our door. Several guards forcibly pulled him away. “Can’t you two talk things out?” one of them urged. A dozen or so elderly neighbors had gathered to watch the spectacle. “He looks so respectable, but he’s a violent beast!” “His wife just wanted to go on a trip. What’s the big deal?” “I bet he’s just too cheap to pay for it!” “Being cheap is no excuse for violence! Someone call the police!” Ryan’s fists were clenched, his face dark as he stared daggers at me. But with so many eyes on him, he couldn’t do anything. Then, as if a thought struck him, a cruel smile touched his lips. He immediately pulled out his phone and called my parents. 3 My parents squeezed through the crowd at the doorway. Their faces were grim as they took in the chaotic scene. My mother rushed to my side, her voice a soothing balm of fake comfort that sent a chill down my spine. The security guard and the neighbors quickly filled them in on what had happened. My father stormed over to Ryan and grabbed his collar. But before his fist could land, Ryan held out my phone. My voice trembled as I screamed, “Dad, don’t look!” But it was too late. He had already taken the phone and glanced at the screen. He froze on the spot. My heart sank. I turned to run. But my father suddenly looked up at me, the concern on his face melting away into pure disgust. He raised his hand and slapped me hard. “You wretched thing! What the hell were you planning to do in a place like that?” I broke down, sobbing, but still demanded to know. “What’s wrong with that place? It’s just an ordinary state park!” “State park? You’re still playing dumb?” Seeing him raise his hand to hit me again, my mother quickly shielded me. “What is wrong with you, you old fool? Are you crazy? Our daughter just wanted to go on a trip!” At that, my father sneered. “A trip? Ha! If she still considered us her parents, she wouldn’t be going there for a trip!” “This little bastard! We should just kill her and be done with it!” His words stunned everyone in the room. They couldn’t understand why a father would speak so cruelly to his own abused daughter. My mother was trembling with rage, but she knew my father wouldn’t curse me for no reason. It had to be the tickets. “Give me Chloe’s phone!” I rushed to stop her, dropping to my knees and begging. “Mom, I swear, the place I was going is just a normal park.” “If you don’t want me to go, I’ll just cancel the tickets! Please, just don’t look!” Seeing me so desperate, my mother’s eyes filled with pity. She held me close, comforting me. “Don’t cry, sweetheart. It’s just a trip. I’m sure your father and Ryan are overreacting.” “Don’t worry. As long as I’m here, I’ll make sure everything is alright.” But I couldn’t risk my life on a gamble. I fought her desperately. “No, Mom, I’m begging you, don’t look! If you look, you won’t want me as your daughter anymore!” The more I resisted, the more curious she became. She patted me gently, her voice soft, as she took the phone from my father’s hand. “Don’t be afraid, Chloe. No matter what happens, I will always protect you.” She looked at me with what she intended as reassurance. My heart turned to ash as I watched her look at the screen. Sure enough, the loving pity on her face vanished, replaced by a cold fury she couldn’t hide. I trembled, instinctively trying to flee, but she grabbed my wrist. Her voice shook slightly. “It’s alright, Chloe. If you want to go on a trip, then go. I won’t stop you. Is your luggage packed? I’ll take you to the train station right now.” She was smiling, but her eyes were like ice. It was the mask of a hypocrite. I yanked my hand away. “No! I’m not going! I don’t want to go!” But her expression was cold, her glare venomous. “You’ve already booked the tickets. How can you not go? The train leaves in an hour. We have to go now.” She gave my father a look. He scowled and reached for me. I grabbed the arm of a nearby security guard and fell to my knees, pleading. “No, I can’t go! If I go with them, they’ll kill me! Please, save me!” The guards hesitated. In the end, this was a family matter. It was difficult for outsiders to interfere. The neighbors who had gathered to watch couldn’t tell if I was mentally unstable or if my parents and husband were the problem. Seeing no one stopping them, my parents grew bold and grabbed me, their voices laced with warning. “Chloe, you’re coming with us right now.” “Don’t delay things any further. It won’t be good for anyone.” I struggled and screamed, my cries heartbreaking. Finally, the woman who lived next door seemed to realize something was deeply wrong. “She said she doesn’t want to go! Why are you forcing her?” But my mother shot back, “We are her parents. If we say she goes, she goes. It’s not your place to interfere!” The neighbor was silenced. Ryan took the opportunity to pin my shoulders, tying my hands and feet with his belt. My parents joined in, preparing to drag me out of the apartment like an animal. The neighbors, however well-intentioned, didn’t dare get involved in another family’s business, especially when my parents and husband looked so menacing. Just as they were about to drag me into the elevator, a tall figure blocked their path. “Wait! You can’t take her!” Seeing the person who had arrived, I think I finally knew the secret behind why they wouldn’t let me go on that trip…

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I was on my way home from a late shift when I stumbled upon a livestream of myself. In the video, I was walking alone down a dimly lit street. The title read: [Randomly Escorting a Stranger Home] But the live comments were a cesspool of filth. [Look at the way she walks. I bet she’s going commando. Somebody toss a coin and see if she picks it up.] [Walking alone this late? Gotta be a hooker. Streamer, ask her how much for the night.] [What a coincidence. I just had her tonight.] [Streamer, get a shot of her apartment number when she gets home. Any of you guys wanna form a party?] Watching the gift animations explode across the screen, the streamer was practically vibrating with excitement. He aimed the camera squarely at my form-fitting skirt. A wave of pure ecstasy washed over me. Perfect. I’d finally hooked a soul to take my place. 1 I was born under a dark sign. A psychic once told me my lifeline was tragically short. Because of that, I’ve lived my life in a cage of caution. I avoided cliffs and deep water, stayed away from rooftops, and never touched a sharp knife. I never jaywalked and always steered clear of crowds. I even got a full medical check-up every single year since I was born. I figured that with such vigilance, I could probably live a long, peaceful life. But three months ago, I was diagnosed with late-stage lung cancer. I don’t smoke. No one in my family does. And every previous medical report showed my lungs were perfectly healthy. Typically, cancer cells need time to grow. With my frequency of check-ups, logic dictated that either a previous test was wrong, or they should have caught it in its early stages. But no. My first diagnosis was terminal. After a storm of tears, my parents finally accepted it. This was my fate. But fate isn’t something you have to accept. Isn’t there a saying? “To defy destiny.” My situation was beyond ordinary remedies. So, they immediately tracked down Mr. Corbin, the same psychic who had read my fortune all those years ago. At first, Mr. Corbin just shook his head, refusing to help. He said that every soul’s time is recorded on Death’s ledger. To forcibly extend a life is like secretly adding a weight to the great cosmic scales; when the accounts don’t balance, there are consequences. The only way was to steal life from another. He scooped a handful of rice and let it spill onto his desk. “You see this? This granary of rice is the total sum of human life in the world. If I take an extra handful for you, some other family’s pot will be short. For you to live, someone else must die.” This is what’s known as finding a scapegoat. But the method was unconscionably cruel. Psychics like him already feared revealing the secrets of the cosmos; meddling with destiny was a line they dared not cross. My parents went to beg him every single day, showering him with gifts of expensive liquor and cash-stuffed envelopes. Eventually, their desperation moved him. He took a long drag from his pipe, exhaling a plume of smoke. “Stealing a life is a wicked thing,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “But as they say, some people dig their own graves. If the soul you take is one who brought about their own doom, perhaps the heavens will look the other way.” 2 Mr. Corbin had strict requirements for the scapegoat. To lure such a person, I took a night-shift job, forcing myself to walk home at two in the morning every day. The problem was, the city had gotten too safe. I’d been at it for almost three months without so much as a single catcall. So tonight, I’d chosen to wear a particularly provocative dress. I recognized this streamer. A few days ago, he’d started a series on escorting strangers home at night, and it instantly became a viral hit, netting him a ton of new followers. He called it ‘escorting,’ but it was really just stalking. His targets were always young women walking alone, so his audience was a predictable hive of creeps. They’d get off on making lewd jokes in the chat, fantasizing about the women on screen who, completely unaware, were having their home addresses broadcast to the world. If a woman noticed and got scared, their panic only made the audience more thrilled. It was like an exhibitionist’s high—the bigger the victim’s reaction, the more excited they became. And if a girl was bold enough to confront him, he’d just claim he was a passerby and taunt her. “Do you own the sidewalk?” So, despite the outrage from many women, no one could do a thing about him. I swayed my hips and turned into a deserted alley. The men in the chat went wild, as if they’d all popped a little blue pill. [With my vast experience, I can tell you that slut is doing it on purpose.] [She’s practically sending an invitation. Streamer, what are you waiting for? Make your move!] [Are you man enough for this? If not, let me take over.] [Don’t make me drop a Rocket Ship on you.] Viewers were flooding in. In the blink of an eye, the count broke ten thousand—a record he’d never reached in his three years of streaming. He could feel a hot rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins. “Alright, brothers, keep those gifts coming! We’re gonna try something new tonight. Drop a Porsche, and you can place an order!” Someone asked what ‘placing an order’ meant. He chuckled. “Placing an order means… you tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.” The chat instantly erupted. 3 [Porsche sent! I want to see what’s under that skirt!] [I’m sending a Yacht! Strip her naked!] [Can a Rocket Ship get us something really wild? You know what I mean.] The streamer’s breathing grew heavy. He stared at the ever-increasing donation amounts, his throat tightening. He quickened his pace, his voice trembling with a feverish excitement. “Don’t you worry, my brothers. Tonight, I promise you’ll get an eyeful…” He hurried to catch up. This area was a demolition zone, surrounded by the skeletal remains of torn-down buildings. Only a single, lonely bungalow stood in the middle of the rubble. There wasn’t another soul for at least a mile. The chat roared with encouragement. [This place is perfect.] The streamer rubbed his hands together, gleefully announcing that he was about to start serving the first ‘dish.’ Just then, a user named ‘Oracle_Descendant’ started spamming the chat. [STREAMER, DON’T GO IN. SHE’S A SOUL-THIEF.] [YOUR LIFE IS ALREADY BEING STOLEN.] [WALK BACKWARDS OUT OF THERE NOW. DON’T TURN AROUND. DON’T LOOK BACK.] In the dead of night, these messages were a sudden chill, and the streamer scowled. Others saw it too and quickly piled on. [Who’s this little punk? Get lost.] [Yeah, and I’m the reincarnation of Zeus.] [Probably some self-righteous little snowflake thinking she can scare us off.] [I’ll believe you if you come lick my boots, sweetheart.] Oracle_Descendant: [I’m telling the truth. She had the aura of death when this started, but ever since you entered the alley, her life force has been growing stronger. You must have walked into a Seven-Point Soul Trap.] [If you don’t believe me, look at the sides of the path. See if there are any burnt-out candles or ash.] At that moment, a gust of wind blew a piece of yellow, ash-like paper spinning past the camera. The streamer froze. He quickly panned the camera to the side of the path. Lining both sides of the dirt path, spaced about a yard apart, were the stubs of three burnt-out incense sticks at each interval. [HOLY SHIT.] [Could it be real?] The streamer’s fat, greasy face turned a ghastly white. 4 His voice shaking, he typed, “Then… then can you see how much of my life has been stolen?” [Huh… that’s strange. Your life force hasn’t decreased.] The streamer let out a sigh of relief. [Tch… what a liar.] [First, you say his life is being stolen, then you say it’s not.] [Are you just here to mess with us?] The boisterous mood in the chat quickly drowned out the creeping horror. But standing alone in the dark, skeletal demolition site, he still felt a chill crawling up his spine. The thought of quitting had already taken root. Better to get flamed by his audience than to lose his life. Just then, someone typed: [I know this place. They just started demolition a little while ago. Those incense sticks are from a ritual the developers did before they started construction.] [If you don’t believe me, check the news.] He dropped a link into the chat. The news article showed a photo of a demolition site, and sure enough, there was a single house standing in the middle. The article explained that the ‘holdout’ was a young girl whose entire family had died in a car crash, leaving her as the sole survivor. As for why she was holding out? Too many people had struck it rich from demolitions in the past, so the policies had become much stricter. They used to compensate based on square footage, but now it was a flat rate per person: a 35-square-meter housing credit plus a few thousand dollars in compensation. A large family might be able to get a two or three-bedroom apartment out of it, but for a single person like her, it was barely enough for a tiny studio. She’d probably have to pay out of pocket to cover the difference, not to mention furnishing it. Forget getting rich; she was likely to lose money. She worked in another part of the city and didn’t normally live there, but when she heard the demolition crew was coming, she’d moved back overnight. The streamer’s fleeting fear vanished after reading the news. His confidence surged back. The chat was getting rowdy again, urging him to get on with the show. [Don’t be a wimp, bro. Here, I’ll send you a Lion to give you some courage.] The flashy animation of the Lion gift exploded across the screen. The streamer grinned from ear to ear. If it was all just a misunderstanding, then he had nothing to fear. “Alright, brothers,” he announced. “Let the show begin!” He strode purposefully toward the small house.

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My mother-in-law, Helen, was clearing new ground when her foot came down on a landmine, a ghost left over from the war. The town foreman told me to run and get my husband, a veteran EOD specialist, to defuse it. I just shook my head, refusing. In my last life, I ran six miles into town to save her. I dragged my husband, Liam, out of a diner where he was on a date with his “one true love.” I begged him to come help. Helen was saved, but his lover was cornered in an alley by her ex-husband and beaten to death. To the world, Liam praised me for my quick thinking. But on the anniversary of her death, he used that same disarmed landmine to blow me to pieces. “Why wasn’t it you who died?” he’d screamed. “Go to hell and apologize to Miranda!” Reborn into this life, Liam is finally enjoying his fancy meal at the town’s best diner with Miranda. But when he learns what happened back home, he will be shattered by regret. … “Jessie, don’t you dare come any closer! Get away from me!” That familiar voice pierced through the fog, and my eyes flew open. My mother-in-law, Helen, stood before me, tears streaming down her face, yet she was still desperately trying to wave me away. “I’m an old woman, my hands and feet don’t listen to me anymore. If this thing really goes off, I can’t drag you down with me.” Foreman Pete heard her and immediately pulled me back. “Jessie! Isn’t your husband a bomb disposal vet? Where is he? Go get him, now!” The urgent pleas swirled around me. I dug my fingernails into my palms, the sharp sting a desperate anchor against the tears threatening to fall. “He’s in town with Miranda,” I choked out. “Even if I go… I don’t think he’ll come back.” The young volunteers who had rushed over with the foreman all exchanged awkward glances. The affair between my husband, Liam, and Miranda was the worst-kept secret in town. Today was our wedding anniversary. He had taken every last cent and all our ration coupons, announcing he was buying Miranda expensive face cream and treating her to a steak dinner at the best diner in the county. The air grew thick and still. One of the young men, seeing the anguish on my face, sighed. “Jessie, we’re fast on our feet. We’ll go get Liam back here!” “You just look after Helen. Everything’s going to be alright!” Without waiting for the foreman’s order, a few of them took off down the road in a cloud of dust. I lowered my gaze, the raw reality of my rebirth finally sinking in. Helen, of course, knew all about her son’s shameful behavior. She looked at me, her face etched with sorrow. “Jessie, what Liam’s done… it’s my fault. I didn’t raise him right. I’ve failed you.” “When he gets back, I’ll make him break it off with that little harlot for good!” A fresh wave of grief washed over me, and a sob escaped my lips. Even after Miranda had abandoned him twice before, Liam was still willing to make me pay for her death with my own life, for a crime I didn’t commit. A man like that? Break things off with Miranda? Impossible. As we tried to comfort each other, the group of volunteers returned, drenched in sweat. Every eye turned to the road behind them. But it was empty. Liam wasn’t with them. They were still catching their breath, their faces flushed with fury. “That Liam is certifiably insane! He was in the general store with that phony, Miranda, buying her face cream and a brand-new shirt!” “We talked until we were blue in the face, but the bastard wouldn’t believe us!” “And you know what he said? He said you sent us! Said you were cheap and made up a story about a landmine just to trick him into coming home so you could save a little money for yourself!” “What kind of son is he? That’s his own mother standing on a goddamn bomb! Even if he had doubts, shouldn’t he have come back to check?!” “And that Miranda! What a venomous snake! With just a few words, she twisted it around so it sounded like we were your secret lovers! God, it makes me sick! How can such a vile person exist!” After their unfiltered tirade, they remembered Liam’s mother was right there. Two muddy streams of tears flowed down Helen’s cheeks. Her lips trembled for a long time before she could force out the words. “That ungrateful whelp… did he really say that?” “Jessie, I’ve wronged you in this life. I’ve ruined you. I’m a failure… let me pay you back with my life!” The shock was too much for her; she was on the verge of a complete breakdown. Under the silent, pitying gazes of the crowd, I gritted my teeth and dropped to my knees in front of her. “Helen, this isn’t your fault! It’s Liam! He’s lost his mind! I have never, ever blamed you!” “If you hadn’t given me a scrap of food to eat when I was a child, I would have starved to death long ago! I don’t want you to pay me back with your life! I want you to live!” My parents died in a flood when I was very young. I was an orphan with nothing and no one. It was Helen who took me in, who gave me a roof over my head and food in my belly, who allowed me to grow up safely. Years ago, Liam and Miranda had been childhood sweethearts. But Miranda thought Liam, a simple army grunt, had no future. She left him a note and ran off with a wealthy man from the city. The blow devastated Liam. He turned his attention to me. Helen, who already doted on me for my hardworking nature, urged me to accept. I married him out of a sense of gratitude, but no sooner had we tied the knot than Miranda came back. Liam immediately demanded a divorce. Helen refused, dead set against it. The whole town was abuzz with the scandal. Miranda fanned the flames, and Liam became convinced that I was using his mother to sabotage their love. From that day on, he hated me. To punish me, he started taking Miranda into town every day, squandering our money on lavish meals and extravagant gifts. A storm of emotions churned inside me, but I forced it down to comfort Helen. When she finally calmed, I reached out and took her rough, calloused hand. “Helen, you’re not well. You can’t stand here for much longer.” “Let me take your place. Please?” The moment the words left my mouth, the crowd erupted. “Jessie, think about what you’re doing! That’s a live bomb from the war! If it goes off, you’ll be dead or crippled! Your whole life will be ruined!” “You’re so young, you can even read and write! Don’t throw your future away like this!” Helen’s tears were unstoppable now. “Jessie, yes, I raised you! But that was only because your parents saved me from that flood first!” “I’m an old woman with one foot in the grave! If I die, I die! Don’t you make this worse!” I clung to her hand, refusing to let go. “No matter what, I can’t watch you die. If you won’t switch with me, then I’m not leaving either. We’ll just get blown up together!” Under my tearful threats, Helen finally relented. Seeing he couldn’t change my mind, Foreman Pete moved the crowd back for safety. Back when things were good between us, Liam had told me how to swap places with a teammate who couldn’t hold their position on a mine. I coached Helen through the steps as I carefully slid my foot over to take the pressure. To say I wasn’t scared would be a lie. My legs felt like they were about to give out. But my heart was already shattered. The only person in this world who was ever truly good to me was Helen. I couldn’t let her die. After a silence so profound it made my teeth ache, we successfully switched places. She wiped her tears, looking at me, and then stomped her foot with renewed determination. “Jessie, you wait here. I’m going to personally drag that monster back!” Seeing that I had actually managed the swap, the crowd’s eyes filled with awe. The same young volunteers, having just caught their breath, offered to go again. “Ma’am, we’ll take you! You need to give Liam a piece of your mind! What he’s doing is just too much!” They helped Helen to her feet and quickly disappeared down the road. I waited with the foreman in silence for what felt like an eternity. When they finally returned, it was the same as before. Behind the small group, there was still no sign of Liam. The moment Helen saw me, her legs gave out and she collapsed onto the ground. “Jessie… I’m so sorry… that boy… he has no humanity!” She was sobbing too hard to speak, so the volunteers angrily filled in the gaps. “Liam’s a complete lunatic! He won’t even believe his own mother!” Through their overlapping, furious complaints, I pieced together what had happened in town. After buying the face cream and the new shirt, Liam and Miranda had gone to the diner. When my mother-in-law and the others arrived, the two of them were cooing at each other, lovingly placing food on each other’s plates. At the sight of his mother, Liam slammed his fork down. “Mom, can you please stop playing along with Jessie’s crazy games? She already sent people to tell me you stepped on a landmine. If you were on a landmine, how could you possibly be standing here in town?” “I just want to have one nice meal with Miranda! Can’t you people just leave me alone?!” Enraged, Helen flipped the table over and tried to drag Liam back with her. Seeing the raw fury in his mother’s expression, Liam finally seemed to believe her, at least a little. But just as he was about to leave, Miranda grabbed his other hand. “I know Jessie doesn’t like me, that she can’t stand it when you spend time with me,” she whispered sweetly. “But Auntie, you can’t joke about something like this.” “The old battlefields have been cleared so many times. How could there possibly be a real bomb?” After that, no matter how much Helen swore on her life, no matter how she beat her chest and pointed to the heavens, Liam refused to believe. When Helen, in her fury, tried to lunge at Miranda, Liam shielded her and walked away without a single backward glance. Hearing this, the foreman’s face turned ashen. And the last thread of hope I’d been clinging to finally, completely, snapped. Our town was in the middle of nowhere. Liam was the only one who knew how to defuse a bomb. If he wouldn’t come, I was going to die. I stood there from dawn until dusk. Helen cried until she fainted several times and had to be carried home by the volunteers. When the moon reached the highest point in the night sky, I couldn’t feel my legs anymore. My body was numb and heavy. I knew I couldn’t hold on any longer. Under the tear-filled gaze of the few who remained, I parted my lips, my voice a dry rasp. “Could you bring me a piece of paper? I… I want to write a will.” The foreman sniffled and sent one of the volunteers, who ran off with tears streaming down his face. Just then, a line of torches appeared in the distance. “Is this where the landmine was found? We’re a military unit on maneuvers! We brought our EOD expert!” The small crowd rushed to meet them. A wave of relief, so powerful it almost buckled my knees, washed over me. I had been saved from the brink of death. Worried for my safety, the volunteers ignored the danger and rushed back to support me on either side. “Jessie, you have to hold on! So what if that idiot Liam won’t come? There are plenty of good people who will save you!” “You’re a good person, Jessie! The heavens wouldn’t let you die like this!” They had been with me all day, wracked with fear. Now that help had arrived, their faces were lit with joy. But as the soldiers drew closer, every smile froze. “Liam?!” Liam was just as shocked to see me. “Jessie, are you out of your mind?!” he roared. “To get me to come back, you made this huge scene? You actually got my commanding officers involved in your little drama!” Beside him, Miranda, dressed in her new clothes, smirked triumphantly. “Jessie, there’s really nothing going on between Liam and me. Did you make all this up just to get him in trouble with his superiors?” “You can’t keep being so selfish. You have to think about your husband’s career.” Liam’s face contorted with rage at Miranda’s words. He lunged forward and grabbed my arm. I had been standing for a full day and night. My body was utterly exhausted. Liam’s sudden pull sent me lurching forward, out of control.

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1 Lately, Charlotte had been getting a lot of calls from a restricted number. She claimed it was her cell carrier, pitching new plans. But I knew the truth. She had a different carrier. I didn’t bother calling her out on it, but she just got bolder. The day I got food poisoning, she was at the office, screwing her male assistant. When I called her office line, all I could hear over the phone were the muffled sounds of their passion, punctuated by her sharp, dismissive words to me: “If you’re going to die, then just die. Stop bothering me!” Later, we were out together, and I found a designer men’s watch in the car’s center console. Before I could say anything, Charlotte snatched it away, her voice cold. “Don’t touch that. It’s not for you.” I just nodded and pulled the car up to the bridal shop. The custom wedding suits we’d ordered… it was time to cancel them. I’d just stepped into the bridal shop when Charlotte caught up to me. She tossed a windproof lighter at me. “Oliver, you need to work on not losing things all the time.” Charlotte had a touch of OCD. She couldn’t stand clutter in her car. The lighter hit me in the face, a sharp, stinging pain, but I didn’t react. I just said, calmly, “I don’t smoke. You know who this belongs to, don’t you?” At that, her expression softened. She carefully picked up the lighter from the floor and slipped it into her pocket. I knew it was Leo’s. Every time Leo deliberately left something behind to provoke me, I would lose my temper. But not this time. I didn’t complain. I just turned and gave my phone number to the sales assistant. The assistant smiled brightly. “You’re just in time. Your custom suits are finished and ready for a fitting.” Before I could refuse, Charlotte, the same woman who had just been yelling at me, had already disappeared into the changing room, her face a mask of indifference. Ten minutes later, I stood before her in my suit. She smirked. “A monkey in a suit is still a monkey. Tacky as hell.” I didn’t argue. I just asked the assistant to take a picture of me. Charlotte, though visibly annoyed, started to move into the frame. I shifted away. Just then, her phone rang—Leo’s special ringtone. Leo’s voice was frantic. He’d lost his limited-edition Dupont lighter and was dramatically offering himself to whoever was kind enough to return it. I thought he sounded like a moron, but Charlotte was completely invested. She hung up, and without even bothering to change out of her wedding gown, she hiked up the skirt and dashed out of the shop. As I heard her car speed away, I paid the remaining balance for the suits. Then I picked up a pair of scissors and, without a moment’s hesitation, cut my wedding suit to ribbons. It was one in the morning when I got a text while packing my things. It was from Charlotte: [At a karaoke bar.] After six years together, my girlfriend was finally, for once, volunteering her whereabouts. I glanced at it and didn’t reply. After taking out the trash, I took a long bath and fell straight to sleep. When Charlotte came home the next day, she found me on my way out to take out more trash. She gave me a strange look. “Is your phone broken?” When I shook my head, her brow furrowed in annoyance. I knew why she was reacting this way. In the past, whenever she stayed out too late, I would text and call her relentlessly. 2 I’d even cross the entire city just to bring her home. But last night, not only had I not tried to find her, I hadn’t even replied to her text. As I was about to step outside, Charlotte asked, “Oliver, where’s the photo of us that was on the wall?” I met her gaze, about to lay it all on the line, when her phone rang again, right on cue. She brushed past my shoulder, already deep in conversation as she walked into the house. “Don’t worry, Leo. I’ll bring it over as soon as it’s ready.” Hearing the sound of the shower running, I continued downstairs to take out the trash. On my way back up, a wave of dizziness hit me. Probably low blood sugar from skipping breakfast and a busy morning. I stumbled back into the apartment, drenched in a cold sweat, and grabbed a sandwich from the counter. I had just taken a bite when Charlotte appeared before me, her voice sharp and accusatory. “Oliver, are you some kind of starving animal?” She snatched the sandwich from my mouth, plate and all, and threw it in the trash. I stared at her, stunned. “I’ve taken care of you for six years. Don’t I even deserve a single bite of the breakfast you made?” Charlotte’s eyes were hard as stone. “Why don’t you take a good look at yourself in the mirror and tell me what part of you deserves anything?” Without another glance, she put on her coat and slammed the door behind her. Faced with this new wave of the silent treatment, I instinctively picked up my phone and opened her chat. I saw she’d changed her background photo. It was a side profile of Leo kissing her on the forehead. I ‘liked’ the photo and then unpinned her chat from the top of my list. During my lunch break, I had an appointment with a real estate agent to look at apartments. As I stepped into the elevator, I ran into Charlotte and Leo. Leo looked like he’d just woken up, and Charlotte was gently fixing his bangs. Seeing me, Leo didn’t flinch. He even greeted me cheerfully. “Ollie, perfect timing. I just got this haircut, but Charlotte thinks it’s messy and insists on fixing it. Is she this controlling with you at home too?” Even if I weren’t in the picture, Charlotte was still his boss, yet he called her by her first name. It was clear their relationship was an open secret at the office. I had no intention of responding to his provocation, but then I saw Charlotte poke Leo’s cheek, not trying to hide it at all. “Only you’re allowed to boss me around, huh? I can’t boss you back?” Leo looked up at me. “Why don’t you tell Ollie here how you boss me around?” They both burst out laughing. Charlotte laughed so hard she practically fell into him, completely ignoring my presence. The next second, the elevator shuddered to a halt, plunging us into darkness. I turned on my phone’s flashlight and saw Charlotte holding Leo, murmuring soft words of comfort. It didn’t take long for the elevator to be fixed. When we reached the ground floor, Charlotte offered to give me a ride. Before I could answer, Leo suddenly announced that the ordeal had made him dizzy. Without a second thought, Charlotte pushed me aside, bundled Leo into the passenger seat, and sped off toward the hospital. I silently picked up my phone, which she had knocked to the floor, hailed a cab, and went to see the apartment. That evening, Charlotte personally delivered a dessert to my desk. Half an hour earlier, I had seen a new post from Leo: [A little low blood sugar doesn’t call for this many desserts! There’s no way I can finish all of this!] 3 The picture was a table laden with French pastries. I thanked her but didn’t touch the dessert box. A flicker of confusion crossed Charlotte’s face. “Oliver, why are you being so polite to me?” I didn’t answer her directly. “If you don’t mind, I need to go print something.” By the time I returned with my printed resignation letter, Charlotte was gone. She had left a sticky note. It said to find her upstairs when I was done. I tore off the note and threw it away, along with the dessert. I didn’t go find her. Instead, I walked into my boss’s office and resigned. “Oliver, why are you being so polite to me?” my boss had asked, echoing Charlotte’s words. He tried to convince me to stay, but seeing my mind was made up, he finally accepted my resignation. If the handover went smoothly, I would be free after this week. At ten that night, Charlotte called me while I was at a work dinner. A female colleague accidentally answered. By the time I got the phone, Charlotte’s voice was dangerously cold. “Oliver, where are you this late at night? And who was that woman?” “Out,” I replied. “Send me your location. I’m coming to pick you up.” She hung up before I could say another word. I sent my location and stayed until the restaurant closed. Charlotte never showed up. I opened Leo’s social media and, unsurprisingly, saw a picture of him in a hospital bed with an IV drip. I took a cab home alone, showered, and went to sleep. At three in the morning, a disheveled Charlotte shook me awake. Her voice was ice. “Oliver, I’m hungry. Make me a bowl of shrimp dumplings.” She was allergic to shellfish and didn’t even like dumplings. I knew who they were for. I tried to pull her hand away, but my fingers brushed against the scar on her arm. Years ago, a fire had broken out in the school auditorium. Charlotte had dragged me out of the smoke-filled room after I’d passed out. Her arm was badly burned, leaving a permanent scar. If it weren’t for her, I’d probably be dead. A bowl of shrimp dumplings in exchange for my life. It was a fair trade. Seeing me get dressed without a word, ready to head out, Charlotte grabbed my arm. For the first time in a long while, her voice was hesitant. “Maybe… maybe you should just wait until morning. Anyway…” I cut her off. “Does he want anything else besides the dumplings?” I asked softly. After a moment of silence, Charlotte let go of my arm. “No,” she said. At dawn, Charlotte stood at the door with an insulated food container. “Oliver, I have to go abroad next week. Make some time this Saturday to have dinner with my parents and discuss the wedding…” Before she could finish, I cut her off. “No need.” Charlotte was clearly taken aback. “What do you mean?” I lied without batting an eye. “Let’s talk about it when you get back. Work is more important.” She stared at me, as if she had more to say, but luckily, her phone rang again. She shut the door, eager to take the call. On Friday, my last day of work, Charlotte pulled me into her car the moment I stepped out of the office. At a high-end restaurant, she placed a piece of sashimi on my plate. “Which wine do you want?” I scrolled idly through my phone. “Whatever. You pick.” My indifference made her pretty face darken.

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1 My mother hated me. She believed I had stolen the love of my father, my grandfather, and my grandmother from her. On Christmas Day, she left me at home alone with three male neighbors while she went shopping with other relatives. Before she left, I cried and told her I was scared. She just sneered at me. “Willow, they’re your elders! Besides, with that scrawny body of yours, you really think they’d be interested?” After she was gone, they raped me, then killed me. They dismembered my body and flushed it down the drain. When my mother couldn’t find me, she told our relatives that I was born cheap, that I’d probably run off to fool around with some boy. But later, when she learned of my death, she went mad. When my mother bought clothes for my cousin, her face was lit with a gentle smile I had never seen before. She carefully held a dress up to my cousin, beaming as she praised her. “This bright color is just perfect for our little Joy.” My cousin tried to refuse, but my mother insisted. “It’s Christmas! A festive color for a festive time.” My aunt felt a little awkward. “Since we’re here,” she said, “we should get something for Willow, too.” I really did need new clothes. The winter coat I was wearing was from two years ago, a gift from my father for my fifteenth birthday. Teenagers grow fast. I couldn’t even zip it up anymore. But my mother’s face twisted in disgust. “Buy her something? Why?” “So she can dress up all flashy and go seduce men? Besides, Willow was born trash. She doesn’t deserve clothes this nice.” Although my cousin and aunt were used to hearing my mother say such things, they couldn’t help but look embarrassed. All our relatives knew. My mother didn’t like me. She had been the apple of her parents’ and brother’s eyes growing up. Then she met my father, who spoiled her like a princess. My cousin told me that when my mother was pregnant with me, she had been excited for my arrival. She used to say she hoped I’d be a boy, so I could protect her alongside my father. But I was a girl. And a premature one at that. I was frail after birth, so my grandparents and my father shifted some of their attention from my mother to me. My mother felt I had stolen their love. From that day on, she disliked me. The more she neglected me, the guiltier my grandparents and father felt, and the more she hated me. It was tolerable when they were around. But as soon as they were gone, she would become even worse. She once stared at me with pure hatred and said, “I wish I had just gotten rid of you when you were still in my belly.” Remembering the cold, venomous look in her eyes, I shuddered. When I came back to myself, my mother had already dragged my aunt out of the clothing store, as if terrified she might actually buy me something. A sudden wave of sadness washed over me. But, Mom. Even if you were willing to buy me clothes now, I couldn’t wear them. I followed behind them, watching as they continued to wander through the mall. My father, who was visiting relatives out of town, called. He reminded my mother, “Willow is a big girl now. When you and your sister-in-law go out, don’t leave her home alone.” My mother bristled at my father’s concern for me. She whined into the phone, “Willow, Willow, that’s all you ever care about! What about me? I’m your wife!” My father’s good-natured laugh came through the phone. “Of course, I care about you. I care about you the most.” After a few more sweet nothings, he reminded her again, “Remember to keep Willow with you. Men who’ve been drinking can be dangerous.” My mother nodded absently and hung up. She kicked at a pile of snow, muttering unhappily. “They say a daughter is her father’s lover from a past life. It must be true.” “Little slut.” I watched her, my heart aching with a strange urge to cry. Knowing my mother’s personality, my father sent a message to my cousin. At the sound of the notification, my mother eyed my cousin suspiciously. “Well, well, looks like our Joy is a busy bee. Who’s messaging you on Christmas?” My cousin didn’t dare say it was my father and quickly made up a lie. But she took his words to heart. A little while later, she said casually, “Auntie, maybe we should head back. It’s getting really cold out here.” “Besides, it’s no fun for Willow to be home all by herself.” My mother couldn’t stand anyone showing me concern. “Who said she’s alone?” she retorted. “Aren’t her two older ‘brothers’ and their uncle there with her?” My aunt also felt uneasy. “But they’re all men, and they’ve been drinking. Rose, Willow’s a young woman now. It’s not safe for her to be alone with them.” My mother just scoffed. “What’s not safe about it?” “They’re her elders! Besides, with that scrawny body of hers, what man would even look at her?” Hearing this, a dull ache spread through my chest. How strange. My heart had already been torn out, so how could it still hurt? 2 Two hours ago, my mother had said the exact same thing to me. It was Christmas Day. Our neighbor, Uncle Miller, had come over with his two sons. My aunt and cousin were also there, so it was a lively gathering. Everyone had a little to drink with dinner. The women were fine, but Uncle Miller and his sons drank heavily. After dinner, my mother suggested she, my aunt, and my cousin go shopping, leaving me at home alone. Uncle Miller and his sons eyed me with lecherous gazes. I trembled with fear. Drunk, they no longer had their usual gentle demeanor. They looked like savage beasts. I clutched my mother’s sleeve, pleading, “Mom, I want to go with you. I don’t want to stay home…” “I’m scared!” But she pried my hand off and sneered at me. “Willow, they’re your elders! Besides, you really think with that scrawny body of yours, they’d be interested?” Before I could say another word, she pushed me into my room and locked the door, leaving the key and my phone on the coffee table outside. But she didn’t know. The moment they left, Uncle Miller and his sons unlocked the door and came in. They subjected me to a brutal assault. Afraid I would scream and alert the neighbors, they covered my mouth and nose, pressing down hard. By the time it was over, I was dead. Mom, if you had just listened to Dad, if you had just called me instead of coming back, you would have found out that I was already gone. While you were saying those words, Uncle Miller and his sons were frantically dismembering my body and flushing it down the toilet. Mom. The bathroom floor is so cold. I’m so cold, and it hurts so much. My mother took my aunt and cousin to get their nails done. I watched from the side, a little envious. Once, I had the chance to go with her. The nail salon was filled with countless sparkling decorations, glittering under the lights. They were so beautiful, like crystals from a fairy tale. I was leaning over the counter, mesmerized, when my mother’s gaze fell on me. She slapped me, hard. “What are you looking at?” she mocked in front of everyone. “Want to get your nails done so you can better seduce men?” I was stunned, my hand covering my cheek as I stood there, frozen. People pointed and whispered, but my mother didn’t spare me another glance. But now, she was saying to my cousin, “Joy, you have such long, fair fingers. Any style would look beautiful on you.” I lowered my head and looked away. My cousin sent me a text. I didn’t reply. She looked worried. While my mother was getting her nails done, she snuck out to call me. But I couldn’t answer the phone anymore. My cousin grew even more anxious, shifting restlessly in her seat. I wanted to comfort her, but my hand passed right through her body. I fell silent, my eyes stinging. Just then, a young mother and daughter walked in. The mother was also there for a manicure, and her daughter had her arm linked through hers, helping her pick out charms. The daughter chose two large rhinestones. “Mom, these are so pretty!” she giggled. The mother lovingly tapped her nose. “My baby has the best taste!” They had such a wonderful relationship. I was so envious my eyes felt cold. I couldn’t look away. When I finally did, I realized my mother was watching them too. My aunt noticed as well. “What’s wrong, Rose? Are you jealous?” she teased. My heart tightened. That’s right. Mom, do you also envy their bond? But in the next moment, my mother looked away with a dismissive tsk. “I am envious,” she said. “That little girl is so much more likable than Willow,” she added with disgust. “You don’t know, sis. Willow is so manipulative. She only knows how to act pitiful in front of my parents and my husband, making it seem like I abuse her! She’s always trying to please them, just to steal everything that’s mine!” My aunt wanted to say something, but she held her tongue. She knew my mother’s beliefs were too deeply ingrained. In the end, she just sighed. But for some reason, my mother irritably pushed away the charms she had just chosen. She told the nail technician to just do a single color. “Forget it. There’s nothing else worth seeing. Let’s just go back.” “Before that damn girl causes any trouble at home.” A flicker of hope stirred in my chest. Mom, could it be that seeing other mothers and daughters made you think of the daughter you left behind? But Mom, it’s too late now. The blood and hair I left in the bathroom have already been cleaned up by Uncle Miller and his sons. 3 When they got home, my mother, aunt, and cousin went straight to my room. It was neat and tidy, as if no atrocity had ever occurred. If I weren’t the one who had lived through it, I might have thought it was all just a bad dream. My cousin became even more worried. She turned to look at Uncle Miller and his sons, who were pretending to watch TV. Their eyes met hers, and they quickly looked away, their gazes darting back to the television. My cousin sensed something was wrong. She tugged on my aunt’s sleeve. My aunt, her brow furrowed, seemed to realize something too. “Where’s Willow?” she asked them. “Oh,” the older son, Ken, stammered with a weak smile. “She probably went out. I saw her take a call and leave.” My cousin looked skeptical. Ken nudged his brother, Leo, who quickly chimed in. “Yeah, yeah! Girls her age probably prefer hanging out with their friends, right?” My cousin was even more convinced something was wrong. She said that even if I had gone out, my phone shouldn’t be unreachable. She and my aunt exchanged a look. “Let’s call the police,” my aunt said firmly. Uncle Miller and his sons flinched. But my mother stopped them. She looked furious. “Call the police for what?” Her voice was cold and certain. “You don’t know Willow, but I do!” “She’s making herself unreachable on purpose because she knows my parents are coming over tomorrow! She wants to use this to tattle on me! To say I mistreat her!” My aunt and cousin were speechless. “Rose, what are you talking about…” But my mother just sneered, her eyes flashing with anger. “I’ll show her who’s more important to my parents, me or her!” “That little slut! She’s asking for a beating! Nobody is to go looking for her! When she gets back, I’ll break her legs!” The more my cousin listened, the more absurd it sounded. “Auntie! Willow isn’t like that!” she cried out. My mother just laughed coldly. “Not like that? You’ve all been fooled by her act!” “Just a few days ago, I saw her out shopping with some boy. That little slut is dating behind our backs! She’s probably out fooling around with her boyfriend right now!” Hearing this, my aunt and cousin’s suspicions were finally, reluctantly, quelled. The next day, I still hadn’t returned. My mother woke up early. She cooked dumplings for my cousin and braided her hair. I watched her hands weave through my cousin’s dark hair, so gentle, as if terrified of hurting her. The winter sun slanted through the window, bathing them in a warm glow. It was such a tender scene, as if they were the real mother and daughter. I felt a little dazed. Mom, if my cousin were your daughter, would you treat her the way you treat me? Is it me you dislike, or is it any girl who happens to be your daughter? Or maybe… Even now, I still don’t understand why my mother doesn’t like me. Was it because when I was three, she had terrible menstrual cramps, and my father had to leave her to rush me to the hospital with a 104-degree fever? Or was it in kindergarten, when she forgot to pick me up after school because she was out shopping with friends, and I was almost kidnapped? When my grandfather found out, he scolded her harshly, humiliating her. I don’t know. But Mom. You did love me once, when I was little. In the fifth grade, I was bullied by my classmates for my tattered clothes. You happened to see it when you came to the school. You were like an angry mother hen, shielding a trembling me behind you, childishly threatening the other kids that if anyone dared to bully Willow again, you would beat them up. Mom, you don’t know. How I wish time could have frozen in that moment. On the third day, the day after Boxing Day, my mother still hadn’t looked for me. It was as if I was never meant to be a part of this family. My father had called to ask about me, but my mother had brushed him off, saying I was out with friends. By now, the three men who had killed me had been sent home by my mother with all the proper courtesies. My grandparents arrived, wanting to give me my Christmas money. A flash of disgust crossed my mother’s eyes. She ran to them, whining like a child. “Mom, Dad, all you ever think about is Willow! What about my present? Did you get one for me?” My grandparents smiled and handed her an envelope. “Of course, we have one for you! We could forget anyone, but never you!” Like a red butterfly, my mother happily took the envelope into her bedroom. My grandparents continued to look for me. “Where’s Willow? Rose? Tell Willow her grandparents are here! We have a big gift for her!” My mother’s voice, tinged with annoyance, came from the bedroom. “What big gift? What does a child need a big gift for? Mom, Dad, just leave the money with me!” My grandparents frowned. Just then, my cousin, who had been calling me nonstop for two days, turned pale. She whispered to my grandparents that she hadn’t been able to reach me for two days.

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After I turned myself in to the police for my crime, my fiancé, Mark, rushed over, furious. “You didn’t steal anything,” he demanded. “Why did you confess?” I just shrugged. I was ready to do the time. In my last life, Mark’s childhood sweetheart, Stella, came back to the country and started causing trouble everywhere. First, she shoplifted from a mall. Then she dined and dashed at a restaurant. Finally, she ran a red light and killed someone with her car. When the mall manager, the restaurant owner, and the victim’s family all came to me, I was baffled. Why were they blaming me for things Stella had done? Later, when they accused me in front of the police of theft, skipping out on a bill, and a fatal hit-and-run, I finally understood. They had mistaken Stella for me. But Stella and I looked nothing alike. I demanded they review the security footage. The footage showed that the person stealing, dining and dashing, and committing the hit-and-run was, in fact, me. Words meant nothing against video evidence. The victim’s family, mad with grief, stabbed me to death on the spot. To my dying day, I never understood why, in every single piece of footage, Stella’s crimes were pinned on me. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day Stella stole from the mall… 1 “Melody, what the hell are you doing? You didn’t do anything wrong! Why did you turn yourself in and say you stole something?” I looked up at the familiar, furious face of my boyfriend, Mark. Faced with his questions, I just gave him an innocent look. “Mark, what are you talking about? I don’t understand.” “You have to own up to your mistakes. It’s a good citizen’s duty to admit when they’re wrong and change for the better. How can you tell me to take back my confession?” In the interrogation room, the police officer frowned at Mark. He rapped his knuckles on the table. “Sir, your thinking is very dangerous right now.” “There is security footage proving Ms. Melody Reid took bread from the supermarket, and she has confessed to the crime. With both physical and testimonial evidence, how can you try to persuade her to evade responsibility?” The officer’s righteous words made Mark’s face twist with anger. He stared at me in disbelief, pounding on the glass partition of the room. “Melody! Are you insane?” “You have millions in your account, and you’re stealing a two-dollar loaf of bread? Are you sick?!” But no matter what he said, I just kept my head down, pretending not to hear. Mark was beside himself with rage. He yelled at me one more time, “Melody, I’m asking you one last time, are you coming out of there with me or not?” “I’m telling you now, my parents will never let a woman with a criminal record into our family!” But faced with his threat, I just shook my head, tears welling in my eyes. “Mark, even if you say that, I can’t leave.” “If your parents won’t accept me as their daughter-in-law because I had the courage to admit my mistakes, then I guess we just weren’t meant to be.” My words completely disgusted him. He had nothing left to say to me. With one last furious glare, Mark turned and stormed away. Watching him leave, I let out a sigh of relief. In my last life, Mark’s childhood sweetheart, Stella, had returned from abroad. The moment she was back, his world revolved around her. Ten years of knowing Mark, and Stella made me look like a joke. We were already talking about marriage, but seeing how devoted he was to Stella, I wasn’t one to cling. I was ready to step aside and let them be together. But right then, Stella was caught stealing, dining and dashing, and even killing someone in a hit-and-run. Trying to be reasonable, I told Mark that Stella should turn herself in to get a lighter sentence. But he just looked at me like I was crazy. “What are you talking about, Melody? You’re the one who did those things. What does it have to do with Stella?” I was about to ask him what he meant when the mall manager, the restaurant owner, and the victim’s family all found me, accusing me of theft, skipping out on a bill, and a hit-and-run. I thought they had the wrong person. Stella and I looked nothing alike. I patiently explained, but the three victims pulled out security footage. The person in the videos, committing all those crimes, was clearly me. I had no way to defend myself. The victim’s family, having lost their only son, was mentally shattered. They stabbed me over a dozen times right there. After I died, I couldn’t figure out how every single piece of security footage—from the mall, the restaurant, the street—all clearly showed me as the culprit. Faking one video might be possible, but faking so many would be incredibly difficult. So, what went wrong? Reborn into this life, I was determined to uncover the truth. I was held at the police station for three days. After three days of counseling and education, they let me go. The first thing I did with my phone was search the local news, just as I remembered from my last life. Sure enough, Mark’s sweetheart, Stella, had committed all the same crimes. But unlike the panic I felt last time, I was completely calm. I’d been locked up for three days. The person in the security footage couldn’t possibly be me this time, right? But I was wrong. I had only taken a few steps from the police station, stopping to buy a bowl of soup from a street vendor, when a group of angry people surrounded me. The man in the lead raised his hand to slap me. “Melody Reid, we finally found you!” “You ran a red light and killed my son! I want you to pay with your life!” The others chimed in. “You stole luxury goods from our store and damaged mall property! You’re not getting away with this without paying ten thousand dollars!” “You dined and dashed at our restaurant! The bill was $888.88! Pay up!” One of the victims, afraid I would deny everything, even started a livestream, pointing their camera right at me. “Everyone, take a look! This is the deadbeat, Melody Reid, who owes money and a life!” Faced with their accusations, a question flashed in my mind. Why, after I had been locked in a police station for three days, were these people still coming after me? But unlike the panicked, frantic me of my past life, I was incredibly calm. “I think you have the wrong person,” I said, unhurriedly. “The person who did those things is named Stella, not Melody Reid. If you don’t believe me, check the security footage.” “We knew you’d say that!” one of them sneered. “We came prepared so you can’t deny it when we hand you over to the police!” They all pulled out their phones and played the footage. The person in the videos, committing all those crimes, was still me. The livestream chat exploded with comments. [Wow, it takes all kinds. I’ve never seen a thief so brazenly accuse someone else.] [Not only does she refuse to admit her crimes, she tries to pin them on someone else. Why doesn’t this woman just die?] Seeing this, my heart sank. Before I was taken into custody, I had considered the possibility that Mark and Stella wouldn’t give up, that they would still try to frame me. But I hadn’t expected the worst-case scenario to still happen. My silence was taken as guilt, as if their accusations had hit their mark. The restaurant owner shoved his bill in my face. “You bitch! You eat at my place, then you smash my plates and bowls! How can you be so disgusting?” “The bill is $888.88, and the damage to the tableware and lost business comes to $200. You owe me $1,088.88 in total!” The mall manager, with a salesclerk in tow, stepped forward, frowning. “You took a popular handbag from a luxury boutique. That bag alone is worth ten thousand, thirty with the required extra purchases. Add in the damage to mall property, and you owe us forty thousand dollars. Pay up!” The parents of the hit-and-run victim were the most emotional, pointing a finger at my nose and screaming curses. “The police station is right across the street! If you don’t give us an explanation, I’ll have the police arrest you and see you get the death penalty!” I took a deep breath. “I really didn’t do any of these things. The person who did is named Stella. I know her. She’s my ex-fiancé’s childhood friend. If you don’t believe me, I can have her come here for a confrontation. Also, I’ve been at the police station for the past three days. I…” Before I could finish, Mark and his darling Stella rushed over, interrupting me. The moment he saw me, Mark raised his hand and slapped me hard across the face. “Melody, I’m breaking off our engagement!” “I knew you were getting out today, and Stella was kind enough to come with me to pick you up. But you dare to slander her like this?” “You make mistakes and refuse to admit them. I don’t have a fiancée like you. You’re not worthy of our family!” Stella looked at me, her eyes red. “Melody,” she choked out, “I know you’ve never liked me because I’m Mark’s childhood friend.” “At home, you’d break a plate and say I did it. You’d pinch the neighbor’s kid and say I hit them. To keep the peace between you and Mark, I always just took the blame!” “But you can’t… you can’t accuse me of something like this! This is a matter of life and death!” With that, she pushed Mark away, taking several steps back to create distance between them. “Mark, if being your friend means I have to endure these false accusations and slander, then maybe we shouldn’t be friends anymore!” “I can’t stand being pointed at and judged all the time! I have to bow and apologize for things I didn’t do, and sometimes I even get hit! I can’t take this kind of treatment anymore!” Her words were like a spark in a tinderbox. The crowd erupted. They all turned on me, their eyes filled with condemnation and hatred. Someone even picked up a rock and threw it at me. I couldn’t dodge in time. The rock grazed my cheek, breaking the skin and drawing blood. The crowd froze for a second. The livestream chat paused. But after a brief silence, they surged forward again, fists raised, demanding an explanation. Just then, the police noticed the commotion and sent a patrol unit over to investigate. When the lead officer, Officer Davis, saw me, he paused. “Melody? You just got out. Shouldn’t you be heading home for a shower instead of standing out here?” His words silenced the crowd. Seeing Officer Davis, a dark glint appeared in my eyes. I saw the flash of panic on Mark’s face and deliberately spoke loudly. “Officer Davis, since you’re here, I’d like you to be a witness for me!” “A witness for what?” he asked, confused. Under everyone’s gaze, I lowered my head, my shoulders trembling as tears streamed down my face. My voice was filled with anguish. “I just got out of the station, and I was surrounded by this mob. They’re saying I did a lot of terrible things and that I have to pay.” “I told them it wasn’t me, but they showed me security footage, and the person in it is me.” “But they might not know, but the entire police department knows! I’ve been locked in a holding cell for the past three days! How could I possibly have been out here?!” Officer Davis paused, then confirmed my words. “That’s right. You’ve been in custody for the past three days and have been a model detainee. You never caused any trouble. We were even going to recognize you as a model prisoner.” Hearing this, the business owners were stunned. The livestream viewers were shocked. “So, after all that, they got the wrong person!” “These businesses are so irresponsible! They came here all aggressive without getting their facts straight! I saw some of them get physical. The poor girl’s forehead is bleeding!” I looked at the business owners and the victim’s family earnestly. “Now do you believe me? I really didn’t do any of the things you said, because I’ve been locked up in the police station the whole time.” They hesitated, looking from the security footage to me and back again. “But the person in the footage is you. The cameras can’t be wrong, can they?” A bystander chimed in. “Maybe they can be! She said she was at the police station, and the station’s security footage has to be real!” At everyone’s request, the police brought out their equipment and examined the footage on the spot. But when the results came in, everyone was stunned again. Even Officer Davis’s eyes widened in shock. The footage from the business owners’ phones was completely authentic, with no signs of tampering whatsoever. Now it was the online viewers’ turn to explode. “What is going on? The police have to investigate this thoroughly! We can’t let an innocent person be framed, and we can’t let a guilty person go free!” Just then, Mark, who had regained his composure after seeing the footage confirmed as real, exchanged a look with Stella and stepped forward. “The bad guy is Melody!” he shouted. “She’s a terrible person! She could sneak out of police custody to commit crimes!” “We just checked! There’s a small alley behind the police station, a blind spot for the cameras! Melody must have escaped through there!” “And her dad’s a locksmith! Who knows if she learned the trade from him? She could have easily picked the lock while the guards were asleep and snuck out to do bad things!” All eyes turned to me, filled with suspicion. Even Officer Davis began to doubt me. Mark smiled triumphantly. “Officer, you have to arrest her! She killed someone! She has to pay with her life!” The victim’s family chimed in emotionally, “Yes! I want her to pay for my son’s life!” The crowd grew rowdy again. Eyes filled with scrutiny, contempt, doubt, and disgust lingered on me. I trembled under the weight of their negativity. But I wasn’t scared. I was thrilled. Because… I had anticipated this moment.

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My daughter accidentally burned my husband’s “one true love.” Ignoring my pleas, he threw our daughter into the pigpen. “You’re the one who taught her to be like this! She needs to be taught a lesson!” To stop me from saving her, he tied me to the post at the entrance to the pen. I watched, helpless, as the pig’s tusks tore through my daughter’s body. I heard her agonized screams, and my heart shattered. By the time I broke free and got her to the hospital, she was barely breathing. I called my husband dozens of times. He didn’t answer. Instead, I received a text from him: a picture of his lover’s positive pregnancy test. Looking at my sister-in-law, who had just arrived, I asked for a divorce for the first time. To repay a debt of gratitude, I had sacrificed myself. Now, for my daughter, I would make them all pay. I was covered in blood, slumped outside the operating room, my eyes fixed on the illuminated sign above the door. Tears streamed down my face, unstoppable. My sister-in-law, Sarah, looked away, unable to watch. “The baby will be okay, Channel. Don’t say such things. When she gets out of surgery, I’ll give him a piece of my mind…” I managed a bitter, mocking smile and handed her my phone. On the screen was the text that my husband, Mike, had just sent. It was a picture of Nina’s pregnancy test. My daughter was covered in bloody wounds from a pig’s tusks. I had held her trembling, blood-soaked body and called Mike over and over. Dozens of calls. He didn’t answer a single one. I had finally managed to break free and get our daughter to the hospital. And while her life hung in the balance, he had deliberately sent me Nina’s pregnancy test to humiliate me. Sarah’s face paled. Her lips moved, but no sound came out. “I’ll call Mike right now. Even if that Nina is carrying his child, our family will never let her through the door. You’re the only daughter-in-law we’ll ever accept.” She was about to dial his number when I struggled to my feet and called him myself. The moment he answered, Mike’s impatient voice filled my ear. “Channel, are you ever going to give it a rest? Penny was in the pigpen for a day. What could possibly have happened?” “Stop using these excuses to trick me. I’m with Nina at her appointment. Call me back when Penny is actually dead.” The dial tone buzzed in my ear. Sarah’s face was now as white as a sheet. I looked down, my voice laced with mockery as fresh tears fell. “To repay your family for raising me, I married Mike. All these years, I’ve done right by you all. So please, I’m begging you, just let me and Penny go…” Sarah was about to speak when the doors to the operating room swung open. I rushed forward, only to be met by the doctor’s look of helpless sorrow. “The child’s injuries are too severe. Her internal organs… there’s not a single one that isn’t damaged.” “We did everything we could. I’m so sorry for your loss…” I stared at the doctor, a sharp, searing pain spreading from my heart to my limbs. My body crumpled to the floor. At some point, Sarah had contacted the funeral home. When I saw the death certificate in her hand, I snapped back to reality. I screamed, snatched it from her, and tore it to shreds. “My Penny isn’t dead! This isn’t for her! It’s not…” Sarah, her heart aching, held me. She motioned for the men from the funeral home to take Penny’s body. Seeing them approach my daughter, I fell to my knees in front of Sarah, my head hitting the floor with a sickening thud, again and again. “Sarah, Mike has another child now! Please, don’t take Penny! Give her back to me!” Sarah’s eyes were red. She quickly pulled me into her arms. “Penny is gone, Channel. Do you want her to have no peace, even in death?” I broke down, sobbing uncontrollably, as the hearse carried Penny further and further away. Watching it disappear, I couldn’t hold on any longer. My vision went black, and I fainted. When I opened my eyes again, I saw my mother-in-law sitting by my bed, her face full of compassion. I managed a weak smile. Before I could speak, she handed me a set of divorce papers. “Channel, you’ve suffered so much these past few years. I watched you grow up. If it weren’t for your mother, I wouldn’t be alive today.” “I’ve always thought of you as my own daughter. I promised your mother I would take care of you. But now I see I was wrong. I thought marrying you to Mike was the best choice. Our family has failed you.” Her face was filled with guilt. “I’ve arranged everything. The day after tomorrow is an auspicious day. After we lay Penny to rest, you can leave this family and start a new life.” I looked at her weary face and thought of all my years with this family. When I was five, my mother had sacrificed her life to give me a safe harbor. All these years, both my mother-in-law and sister-in-law had been good to me. The family had raised me, but my own sacrifices over the years had more than repaid that debt. Now, we owed each other nothing. I took the papers and signed my name without hesitation. After the funeral, I would be free. My mother-in-law had just left when Mike returned. He stormed in, grabbed me by the hair, and dragged me out of bed. “Channel, you bitch!” he snarled. “Is running to Mom all you know how to do?” “I’m warning you, if anything happens to Nina, I’ll kill you!” Looking at his furious face, a storm of hatred brewed in my heart. A life for a life. Why was Penny dead while he was still alive? I stared at him, wanting nothing more than to stab him. But then I remembered my daughter’s last words. Penny had been so weak, barely breathing. She used her last bit of strength to grab my hand. “Mommy, it was my fault. I’m okay. Don’t be mad at Daddy, okay?” It wasn’t her fault, but even in death, she was so considerate. I dug my nails into my palm and tried to stand. Before I could steady myself, Mike grabbed me and pushed me to the floor, roughly tearing at my clothes. “You had Mom call me back for this, didn’t you?” I struggled, kicking my knee up into his groin. He jumped back, yelping in pain, and stared at me in disbelief. “Are you crazy? You know how we got our daughter in the first place. Who are you trying to fool with this prim and proper act?” “You lied and said our daughter needed surgery just to get me back here. You really are a lowlife bitch!” Hearing his curses, my face was a mask of indifference. “Penny is gone,” I said. Mike paused, then looked me over with a sneer. “I knew you were a bitch with no morals. Penny is your own daughter, and you’re cursing her to death. Channel, you make me sick.” He slowly straightened his clothes. “I’m telling you, if you dare go crying to Mom again, don’t blame me for what I do.” He slammed the door and left. I didn’t say a word. After he was gone, I stood in the shower, scrubbing my skin raw. In a daze, I saw us as we used to be. I had known Mike for over a decade. When Nina dumped him, I was the one who helped him through the darkest days. I believe we were in love then. But later, when Nina came back to crash our wedding, Mike abandoned me at the altar and ran to her. From that day on, he was a different person. One call from Nina, and he would drop everything. Even Penny was an accident, the result of a drunken night. I had argued, I had fought, but he didn’t care. In his eyes, I should have been grateful just to be Mrs. Hayes. So I stopped paying attention to him and focused all my energy on our daughter. I thought this was how my life would be. But now, without Penny, I couldn’t endure it any longer. The day Penny was cremated, the sky was a somber grey. Mike was nowhere to be found, as if he had vanished from the face of the earth. My mother-in-law called him again and again, but he never answered. Sarah was furious and wanted to send their bodyguards to drag him there. I stopped her. “Don’t. I don’t want him to taint Penny’s final journey.” I hadn’t slept in two days. I wanted to look at Penny a little longer, afraid I would forget her face. After a long wait, the staff finally came out. I bit my lip, holding back tears as I took the urn from them. Just two days ago, I had held her in my arms. Now, all that was left was this cold, heavy box. I knelt before my mother-in-law, my forehead hitting the ground hard. “Mom, I know Penny is Mike’s daughter and should be buried with your family. But I carried her for ten months, I nearly died giving birth to her. I want her to be free. Please, I’m begging you.” My voice was a choked sob, a desperate plea. Sarah looked at me, her heart aching, unsure what to say. My mother-in-law, her eyes filled with tears, sighed deeply and helped me to my feet. “Penny was a good child. Our family has failed you both. From now on, you must take care of yourself.” I returned home with the urn. I wanted to pack our things and leave this place cleanly, with my daughter. But as I opened the door, a wave of intimacy hit me. On the living room sofa, two naked bodies were intertwined. Nina’s moans were soft and seductive. “Gently… I’m pregnant, remember?” Mike heard the door open. He glanced at me but continued, unfazed. I stood frozen, holding the urn, my legs as heavy as lead. I don’t know how long I stood there. My feet went numb. Finally, they slowly got up and got dressed. Nina’s face was flushed. She stroked her belly and said with false sincerity, “Channel, when did you get back? It’s all Mike’s fault. He insisted on bringing me here so the baby could get to know its home. I’m so sorry.” She was apologizing, but her eyes were full of defiance. I bit my lip so hard I could taste blood, but I couldn’t say a word. Mike wrapped his arm around Nina and smirked at me. “She’s just the maid. Why are you explaining so much to her? Didn’t you say the baby was hungry? Let’s go eat.” As they passed me, Nina deliberately bumped into me. I stumbled, and the urn fell from my hands, spilling Penny’s ashes all over the floor. Mike frowned in disgust. He glanced down and, without a second thought, stepped on the ashes. “What is this disgusting stuff?” he cursed. “It got my shoes dirty!” He stomped his foot for good measure, then walked out with Nina, swaggering. Looking at the scattered ashes, I finally broke down. “Baby, Mommy couldn’t protect you. Just wait a little longer. Mommy will take you away from here.” I knelt on the floor in despair, my hands trembling as I gathered Penny’s ashes, bit by bit. When I had finally collected them all, I opened my suitcases and packed our things, one by one. Her favorite little dress, the doll she had to hug to sleep. When I picked up the family photo from her bedside table, my hand trembled. In the photo, Penny was timidly holding Mike’s hand, looking up at him with a pleading expression. But his face was cold, his eyes devoid of any warmth. She had earned this photo with a certificate of achievement from her preschool. I opened the frame. On the back, in her childish scrawl, were the words: “Daddy loves Mommy. I love Daddy and Mommy.” Looking at the crooked letters, tears streamed down my face. My heart felt like it was being squeezed by a giant hand, the pain so intense I could barely breathe. My daughter was only four. She had just started preschool. She should have had a carefree childhood. She was so little, yet she had endured so much. She had longed for a complete, warm family, and now, there was nothing. I packed for five hours, filling five large suitcases. After watching the movers clear out the room, I took Penny’s urn to the airport. As soon as I arrived, I received a text from Nina.

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