Author: Momo Chan

1 The whispers claimed a curse clung to the Sterling men, a dark shadow that ensured any woman who dared betray them would face a grim fate—death or disfigurement. Elite society, from Manhattan to the Hamptons, heard these tales and recoiled, the most coveted debutantes shying away from any Sterling suitor. Yet, Natalie Hayes, who’d grown up beside me, defied her family, slipping into a pristine white gown to propose. “Ethan,” she’d murmured, her voice steady, “I don’t fear any curse. Because I will never betray you.” Her words resonated deep within me, stirring something fragile and profound. I married her. Five years into our marriage, her first love, Dylan Miller, returned from overseas. His reappearance ignited a relentless storm of arguments between us, each one deepening the rift. The breaking point arrived when Natalie, who had insisted on our agreement to remain child-free, was discovered to be carrying Dylan’s baby. To circumvent the curse, set to activate seven days hence, I initiated divorce proceedings. But Natalie tore the divorce papers to confetti, a sneer twisting her lips. “Ethan Sterling, you really think I’d believe your family’s silly curse? I’d like to see you lay a finger on me!” In the city’s most exclusive circles, bets were placed. Everyone was gambling on whether Natalie would face the curse’s wrath, or if I’d swallow this bitter humiliation, becoming the laughingstock of the East Coast elite. I didn’t linger, didn’t argue further. I simply turned and walked away. I had offered her a chance to live, out of deference to the years we’d shared. She simply hadn’t cherished it. … I’d barely stepped out of the Hayes mansion when Natalie’s guards blocked my path. “Ethan Sterling, I’m pregnant! Where do you think you’re going, abandoning me like this?” she demanded, her tone self-righteous. “Dylan said he’s too rough, too preoccupied with his own affairs. He said I still needed you to take care of me.” My gaze turned to ice. “And you’re not afraid I might harm the child?” Before I could finish, the wine glass in her hand splintered against my cheek. “Ethan Sterling, how dare you threaten me? Watch yourself! Don’t forget, your father is still in a coma at the hospital, his life clinging to the expensive medication only my family provides!” My hands clenched into fists, my body trembling with suppressed rage. Blood mixed with red wine streamed down my face. She’d forgotten, hadn’t she? Forgotten that my father had taken a blade meant for her, scarring his brain and leaving him trapped in silence. Just then, Dylan Miller strode over, a towel in hand, his voice dripping with condescension. “Mr. Sterling, you two have been married for years and no children. Are you even capable of having kids? Maybe the problem lies with you. But don’t worry, I’m a generous man. I don’t mind if my and Natalie’s child carries your name.” He offered me the towel. I was about to refuse, but then he suddenly collapsed backward, his hands gushing blood from the wine glass shards. Natalie rushed forward, slapping me across the face. “Ethan Sterling, you dare to bully Dylan in front of me? Drop to your knees and beg his forgiveness, or I’ll unplug your father’s life support!” I wiped the blood from my lips, a chilling smile spreading across my face. “I’ll kneel, Natalie. But I wonder if Mr. Miller can bear the consequences that would follow…” Dylan, seeing the glint of malice in my eyes, felt an inexplicable unease. He quickly urged Natalie, “Natalie, let’s just drop it. Everyone’s watching.” Natalie helped him up, her eyes brimming with concern, then led him towards a private room with a doctor. As she passed me, she stopped. “Guards! Lock Ethan Sterling in the isolated guest suite! Don’t let him out without my permission!” I stared at her retreating back. “Natalie Hayes, you’ll regret this.” She let out a cold laugh. “Still trying to scare me with that cursed nonsense? Ethan Sterling, spare me the theatrics!” Watching her silhouette, resolute and unyielding, I sighed internally. If only she had agreed to the divorce, perhaps the curse would have never claimed its due. 2 Three days later, Natalie finally released me from the isolated guest suite. My throat was raw, my body a hollow ache. I couldn’t even summon the strength to meet her gaze. She walked in, delivering a sharp kick to my stomach. “Ethan Sterling, I never thought you’d be so malicious!” “What have I done?” I rasped, my voice barely a whisper. She didn’t answer. Instead, she ordered the guards to drag me to the back garden. The rough cobblestones scraped my skin raw, painting my legs in shades of purple and blue. Seeing my agony, a flicker of disgust crossed her face. “You knew Dylan was allergic to flowers, yet you deliberately filled the garden with roses. Were you trying to kill him?” My lips parted, but no words came. She’d forgotten, hadn’t she? Forgotten that the one who truly loved roses was herself, and that this sprawling sea of blossoms was a surprise I’d cultivated for her over a year and a half ago. I gave a self-deprecating laugh. “I’ll clean it up now.” I struggled to my feet, limping into the flowerbed, tearing out the roses with my bare hands. Thorns tore at my palms, blood bloomed against my skin, trailing crimson down my wrists. Natalie’s eyelids fluttered at the sight, but she coolly averted her gaze. “Don’t bother with the dramatics. It only makes me loathe you more.” With that, she clenched her fists and departed. When I pulled out the last rose, my body gave out. I collapsed onto the ground. The next morning, I woke to find my hands and face bandaged. I got up to look for Natalie, and as I neared her study, I heard her furious voice from within. “Why are they tearing up signed contracts? I’ve sunk every liquid asset we have into those deals! Why am I suddenly plagued by such bad luck? Go deal with those cancelled projects first. I need to figure something out…” The curse, I realized, was beginning its dance. I pushed the door open and walked in. Natalie put down her phone and looked up at me. “Ethan Sterling, what do you want? Now that you’re awake, go whip up some soup for me in the kitchen.” “And remember to add plenty of salt. Dylan wants a bowl too, he prefers his food extra savory. Go on, get to the kitchen.” I, who had barely lifted a finger in the kitchen my entire life, had learned to cook and make soup for her, all because she once murmured about wanting the warmth of a homemade meal. Now, my hands were still stinging and scabbed from the roses; I couldn’t even touch water. I scoffed. “I can make it. Just don’t complain if it tastes like poison.” “Are you itching for another stint in that room?” Natalie’s face darkened. I sat down in the chair opposite her, crossing my legs. “Natalie Hayes, I advise you to sign the divorce papers while there’s still something left to salvage.” “You’re already carrying another man’s child. Let’s part ways amicably.” Natalie stared at me, her eyes hardening with a bitter venom. “You think I’m behind these… setbacks? That you had someone tamper with my projects as revenge?” Her accusation made me laugh, a short, sharp sound. “Miss Hayes, you had me locked away for three days! How could I possibly orchestrate such a grand scheme?” “You’d better not have!” she scoffed. “Don’t even think about divorce. You won’t get to just walk away now.” “If you hadn’t lied to me, Ethan, I never would have mistaken you for Dylan. I wouldn’t have wasted five years of my life with you, and he wouldn’t have been hurt so badly.” I frowned, trying to make sense of her words. “What lie did I tell you?” She sneered. “Still playing innocent? I know everything. Ten years ago, you dragged me from the cliff…” Dylan burst in, cutting her off. “Natalie, darling, we need to head to the hospital for our prenatal appointment. The car’s already waiting.” 3 I tried to press her for answers, to continue the conversation. But Natalie simply shrugged me off, a dismissive gesture, and allowed Dylan to pull her away. I stood there for a moment, stunned, then hailed a car to the hospital, needing to see my father. In his hospital room, I gripped my father’s inert hand. “Dad, you told me before that Mom’s betrayal, her affair, led to that car crash on their holiday, plunging you into such deep despair and sickness.” “That’s why you always warned me against marriage, against trusting anyone with your heart.” “I know I made a mistake, Dad. But don’t worry, I won’t let someone else’s mistakes define my own future. I’ll be here, waiting for the day you wake up.” Visiting hours ended, and a nurse politely escorted me out of the room. As I reached the hospital’s bustling main lobby, I came face-to-face with Natalie. “What are you doing here? Stalking me?” Natalie’s face contorted with disgust. I ignored her, turning to leave. But she wasn’t letting go, stepping forward to grab my arm. “Ethan Sterling, I’m talking to you! Are you deaf?” I recoiled, shaking her off with a snarl. “Natalie, go see a shrink! You’re clearly unhinged, snapping at anyone who crosses your path.” “Why would I be here to stalk you? Have you forgotten my father is also a patient here? I visit him every single day.” It was the first time I’d ever truly raised my voice, ever let loose with such venom. For a moment, she was stunned, her carefully constructed composure cracking. “Why are you suddenly yelling at me like this…” Just then, Dylan appeared, inserting himself between us. He brandished an ultrasound printout like a trophy, waving it in front of Natalie. “Natalie, darling, the doctor says our little one is perfectly healthy! Those eyes, that mouth, they’re just like yours! So beautiful.” Natalie’s face softened into a sickly sweet smile. “Our child is, of course, beautiful.” Dylan chuckled, ruffling her hair. “Natalie, why don’t we let Ethan name our little one? It’ll give him a sense of… contribution.” The old me would have lunged at him, fist flying. But now, I simply turned and walked away, my face devoid of emotion. Dylan, however, called out to me. “Ethan Sterling, tomorrow is mine and Natalie’s wedding day. How about you be our Master of Ceremonies?” My footsteps faltered. I turned, staring at Natalie, a sneer on my face. “You and your… plaything are getting married? And you want me, your husband, to officiate? You two really know how to put on a show, don’t you?” “Ethan, must you always be so crude?” Natalie’s face darkened, though a flicker of guilt, quickly masked, danced in her eyes. “You’ve had me, Ethan. I’m merely granting Dylan his wish, a small ceremony. Why are you so possessive?” I was about to refuse, but she cut me off. “You must be there tomorrow. Don’t forget, your father still needs the imported medication only my family provides.” My fist tightened, the half-healed wounds on my palm bleeding anew. Natalie and Dylan’s wedding, held the next day, dwarfed our five-year-old ceremony. Guests whispered as I made my entrance. “Ethan Sterling truly is a live-in son-in-law, isn’t he? Attending his own wife’s wedding to another man.” “Maybe Ethan really is… incapable. Why else would he willingly wear a cuckold’s crown?” “I think that Sterling curse is just a fabrication, a trick to keep their women in line.” I took a slow sip of my wine, every whispered word a phantom breeze. I’d loved the wrong woman. Simple as that. I’d endured the whispers, the snide remarks, living under her family’s roof because she claimed it felt like home. I even underwent a procedure, sterilizing myself because she whispered of a child-free life. The truth of the curse? Three days would tell. A wave of cheers erupted as Natalie, radiant in white, walked down the grand crystal staircase, her arm linked with Dylan’s. Step by step, they descended to the swelling music. Then, Natalie’s face suddenly contorted. Her body twisted, and she tumbled, losing control, spiraling down the remaining steps. She lay sprawled on the ground, clutching her stomach, a raw, piercing wail tearing from her throat. A collective gasp tore through the crowd. “Did she… lose the baby?” 4 Someone brave enough to get close knelt, checking the hem of her gown. Then, with a terrified shriek, he collapsed back onto the floor. “Blood. So much blood…” They scrambled, rushing Natalie to the hospital. The wedding was over, a chaotic, bloody spectacle. But the curse? It was just clearing its throat. I spared a glance at Dylan, still frozen on the stairs, his face a mask of shock. In that split second, Dylan could have caught her. But he’d chosen himself, not just letting go, but shoving her away when her hand instinctively reached for him. “Ethan Sterling, was this your doing?” Dylan’s accusing voice cut through the stunned silence behind me. I ignored him, simply turning and walking away. After Natalie was discharged, she ordered me to the hospital. “You think by taking my child, you’ll make me believe your Sterling curse? I’m telling you, you can’t trick me!” I gave her a cold, hard stare. “What in God’s name are you babbling about?” Beside her, Dylan, his face a shade of sickly green, trembled with rage. “Ethan Sterling, I had people investigate! You drugged Natalie’s water, making her legs give out! She fell, she lost the baby, she almost lost her life!” “It was my fault,” he added, his eyes brimming with tears. “I panicked. I didn’t grab her. Natalie, I’m so sorry…” Natalie shook her head, clutching his hand. “Dylan, I don’t blame you. Everything happened so fast.” Then, her gaze snapped to me. “Ethan Sterling, you killed my child. You owe a life for a life.” “But don’t worry. I won’t take yours.” “Cut off Ethan’s father’s imported medication. It’s time he learned a lesson.” My breath hitched. I lunged forward, desperate to stop her. “No! Natalie, you can’t! You want to hurt someone, hurt me! Not him!” “My father was injured saving you! If you stop his meds, he might never wake up!” Her eyes, cold and sharp, cut through me. “Spare me the theatrics. You ruined my wedding with Dylan! You killed my baby!” I pulled out the freshly printed divorce papers from my bag. “I told you it’s the curse! If you sign these, none of this will happen again!” She laughed, a harsh, brittle sound, and ripped the papers to confetti again. “Ethan Sterling, you think I’m a fool? Still peddling that curse nonsense?” “Divorce? Out of the question!” Then, she had me dragged back to the Hayes mansion, thrown once more into that suffocating room. I pleaded with the guard outside the door. “Please, open the door! Let me out! I need to see Natalie!” “Open up! I have to save my father! How much? How much to open the door?” The guard’s voice was flat, devoid of emotion. “Mr. Sterling, please don’t make this harder on us.” For three days, I screamed until my voice was a raw, useless rasp. I hammered on the door until my hands were pulp, stained crimson with my own blood. Just as despair began to consume me whole, Natalie finally opened the door. “It’s Grandfather’s eightieth birthday. You’re coming with me. Don’t you dare try any of your tricks again.” “Get him cleaned up,” she ordered the guards. “We leave in thirty minutes.” The moment I got my phone back, I powered it on. A barrage of missed calls from the hospital. My hand trembled as I dialed back. “Mr. Sterling, why did it take you so long to answer? Your father… he passed away last night.” I was a phantom, numb and hollow, as I was led to Natalie. She slid into the car I’d bought for her, Dylan already nestled beside her. She rolled down the window, looking out at me. “This car’s full. You’ll take the other one.” With a nod, she ordered the driver to leave. I stared at the death certificate the hospital had sent to my phone. Hatred, cold and bitter, surged through me, eclipsing everything else. At that exact moment, an out-of-control semi-truck veered directly towards the sedan Natalie was in.

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1 I, a hopeful valedictorian, endured the crucible of the national college entrance exams not once, but twice. The first time, I earned a coveted spot at Harvard. The second, Yale. Each attempt, my scores soared above 700 points, yet neither of these esteemed institutions dared to admit me once they saw my name. I initially believed it was a problem with my background check, some unseen stain that made both universities recoil. But my parents were honest, hardworking blue-collar laborers; far from any criminal activity, they couldn’t even bring themselves to harm an animal. Then came my third attempt. Again, I scored over 700 points. This time, I set my sights on the University of Chicago, convinced that surely, this time, nothing could go wrong. Yet, the admissions officer from UChicago, who had greeted me with a beaming smile, froze the moment he saw my name. His pronouncement was definitive, unwavering: the University of Chicago could not admit me. I couldn’t fathom why. What was so wrong with my name? Why, despite such exceptional scores, did everyone who saw my name refuse me admission? … “So you’re Lily Hayes, this year’s state valedictorian.” The admissions officer from UChicago, having meticulously cross-referenced my family records right in front of me, finally shook his head, a weary resignation in his eyes. “We cannot admit you to the University of Chicago. We simply cannot take a student like you.” The hope blooming in my chest crumbled like an ancient ruin. A crushing wave of helplessness washed over me, threatening to drag me under. I yearned for an answer, a reason, and couldn’t help but cry out, “Why won’t you admit me? I’m the valedictorian! Even if you’re shattering my dreams, at least tell me why!” He merely cast a cold, indifferent glance my way. “A student like you, no university will take you.” I chewed on his words, tasting their bitter, inexplicable meaning. My mind spun, trying to grasp at meaning, but my thoughts tangled into a knot of utter confusion, a dull ache throbbing behind my eyes. Devastated, I collapsed to the ground, cradling my head in my hands, sobs wracking my body. My mind was a whirlwind of questions: Why had I aced the exams three times, yet no university would accept me? The first time, my score of 730 crowned me valedictorian. I was thrilled, eagerly awaiting my Harvard acceptance letter, only to receive a rejection notice instead. Disbelief clawed at my throat. I called the admissions office, but the moment the director heard “Lily Hayes,” he dismissed me without further explanation, cutting me off with a chillingly terse: “We will not admit you.” After a year of rigorous prep, I sat for the exams again. My score of 735 made me valedictorian once more, earning me a spot at Yale. I believed Yale would surely accept me, but the outcome was the same: another rejection. When I called again, the Yale admissions director echoed Harvard’s chilling refusal, turning me away the instant he heard my name. I simply couldn’t understand. My scores were getting higher, yet Harvard and Yale seemed even more hesitant to admit me. At first, I suspected a problem with my background check. I meticulously researched my parents’ records, only to find our family history spotless, stretching back three generations. Besides, my parents were diligent, down-to-earth farmers; they couldn’t even bring themselves to harm an animal. Unable to find the truth, a stubborn defiance took root. I decided to try for a third time. This time, I scored 738, still the state’s top performer. Learning from my past two rejections, I avoided the Ivies, instead choosing the University of Chicago. With my scores, admission should have been a certainty. When the UChicago admissions officer arrived at our home, I was certain my dream of college was finally within reach. But the moment he saw my name, he delivered the same crushing verdict: UChicago could not admit me. Three rejections. The weight of it plunged me into an abyss of despair. My parents, seeing me sobbing uncontrollably, their own eyes reddened with a mixture of helplessness and grief, kept asking, “How could this be?” “Our daughter is the valedictorian! How can she not get into college?” The old couple simply could not accept this cruel reality. My mother, her eyes swollen and red, dropped to her knees before the admissions officer with a soft thud. “Please, sir,” she begged, her voice barely a whisper, “please let our daughter go to school. We’ll find any amount of money, we promise!” The officer remained unmoved, his face a mask of polite indifference. My mother began to kowtow, her forehead hitting the worn floorboards with painful thuds, leaving angry red marks. She clung to his pant leg, gasping through her tears. “Sir, our child needs an education! Her father and I have toiled in the fields our whole lives. Our greatest wish is for our daughter to live a good life, not to suffer like us. Please, have mercy!” My father, his back stooped from years of labor, knelt beside her. He fumbled in his pocket, pulling out a cheap, crinkled pack of cigarettes and offering one to the officer. “Sir, I may not be educated, but I know my daughter is the valedictorian. She has to go to college! If she doesn’t, her life will be ruined. Please, help us!” To afford my education, my father only allowed himself the cheapest, dollar-fifty-a-pack cigarettes. My heart twisted, a sharp, visceral pain, watching my parents—people who had never bowed their heads to anyone—beg with such crushing humility. Though we were poor farmers, my parents, no matter how hard they worked or how much they suffered, had never endured such blatant indignity. A man, they always said, only bent his knee to God. Yet here was my father, kneeling on the cold floor, begging for a chance at life for his daughter. But it was all in vain. The admissions officer remained unmoved, repeating the same chilling mantra: “There’s no need for this. We will not admit Lily Hayes.” My father, believing his sincerity wasn’t enough, even pulled at his sleeve and began to rub the officer’s polished leather shoes, kowtowing as he scrubbed. The officer merely retorted, his voice chillingly detached, “Don’t play these sympathy games. They won’t work. We will not take Lily Hayes, no matter what.” No matter how my parents pleaded, the officer offered no further response. After he left, the University of Chicago quickly rejected my first choice application. As the person at the center of this bewildering storm, I felt utterly lost, adrift in a fog of confusion. I desperately searched for answers within myself: What did “a student like you” even mean? What terrible wrong had I committed? But in my memory, I was always a model student, excelling in academics and character, lauded by our neighbors as the perfect child, without a single blemish on my record. My parents, seeing my agony, gathered around, their voices soft with comfort. My father gently stroked my hair. “Lily, it’s alright. If this school doesn’t want us, we’ll find another. There are so many universities in this country; surely one will accept you.” My mother wiped away my tears, adding, “My Lily is the valedictorian! How could she not get into college? Your mom and dad will fight for you, I promise.” Each rejection carved new lines of worry onto my parents’ faces, weaving more silver into their once dark hair. After the first rejection, they’d willingly paid for a top-tier prep course, telling me, “Don’t worry, Dad’s got this.” After the second, they hired expensive tutors, working multiple jobs to save every penny for my education. My parents always gave everything, holding nothing back. My rising scores were a testament to their boundless sacrifice. But this third chance, too, had vanished into thin air. Their faces, now etched with deep lines of worry and age, their hands calloused and gnarled from years of relentless toil, brought a fresh wave of tears to my throat. “Dad, Mom, I’m so sorry,” I choked out. “It’s my fault. I’ve disappointed you again… I’m just a burden, dragging you down…” My parents, of course, wouldn’t hear it. They simply told me not to worry, to put such dark thoughts aside. That night, I tossed and turned in bed. With UChicago’s rejection, all my hopes now rested on my next choice. In my previous two attempts, my overconfidence in getting into Harvard or Yale had led me to neglect other options, a costly mistake. Thankfully, this time I had been more cautious. Despite my scores being well above average for most state universities, I’d applied to a few mid-tier schools. And, just in case, I’d even applied to a community college, the lowest admission threshold. I thought, if the elite universities wouldn’t take me, surely a regular state university would. After all, I was the state valedictorian. And indeed, hope arrived as expected—my name appeared on a mid-tier state university’s provisional acceptance list. The school, upon learning that a 738-point state valedictorian had applied, arrived at our house the very next day with a full procession of fanfare and banners, creating a joyful spectacle. My parents and I watched the bustling crowd outside our door, a rare smile finally gracing our faces. The university president quickly stepped forward, shaking my parents’ hands warmly. “It is an immense honor for our university to be chosen by the state’s top student! You two have raised such an exceptional daughter. Please rest assured, Miss Hayes will be treated like a national treasure at our institution.” Hearing these words, my parents’ eyes shone with a profound joy. My mother squeezed my hand tightly, exclaiming that my perseverance had finally paid off. My father straightened his shoulders, a rare show of pride. The scene was filled with warmth and harmony. The president eagerly produced the prepared acceptance letter, inviting us to pose for a photo. Then, with a wide smile, he unfolded the letter and began to read: “To Lily Hayes, upon review, we are pleased to offer you admission to…” Mid-sentence, he abruptly stopped, his gaze fixed on the letter, his entire body stiffening. Two minutes later, he looked up at me. “Are you certain your name is Lily Hayes?” Seeing his expression, my heart plummeted, a chilling premonition seizing me. Before I could speak, my parents confirmed it. Hearing their reply, the president swayed, then quickly waved his hand, signaling the celebratory procession to cease. The joyful din vanished, replaced by an unnerving silence. My parents panicked, turning to look at me, but my eyes were fixed on the president’s lips. I heard him say, his voice colder than ice, “I’m very sorry, but our university cannot admit you. I will report this to the admissions office and revoke your admission.” My head buzzed, my vision swimming, but my parents caught me just in time. I stared hard at the university president, articulating each word with deliberate force. “Sir, I demand a clear reason! Your institution already admitted me; you cannot simply revoke my acceptance with such vague excuses!” My hands clenched at my sides, my nails digging into my palms, the pain a sharp anchor in the storm. I vowed to myself: no matter what, today I would unearth the truth. My parents chimed in, their voices rising with anger. “That’s right, sir! You’ve already admitted her! You can’t just go back on your word! Isn’t this just bullying?” “We may be uneducated, honest folk, but you can’t treat us like this! You must give us an explanation!” The neighbors, who had gathered to watch the spectacle, began to whisper amongst themselves. The news of me, the state valedictorian, failing to get into college had already spread like wildfire through our small town. They indignantly speculated if I had offended someone powerful, convinced that with my scores, every university should be clamoring for me. Yet, despite our demands, the university president remained tight-lipped, offering only the same vague, infuriating answer: “A student like you will not be accepted by any school.” I pressed him, but received no further information. After the president departed, our family became the town’s new favorite topic of gossip. “That Lily Hayes, she’s a curse, isn’t she? Three years of exams and no school wants her! What a waste of money!” “I wouldn’t even bother. Just let Lily get a job. She’s just a girl anyway, she’ll be someone else’s problem soon enough!” “Exactly! A job would at least let her earn back all the money you wasted!” The villagers’ cruel words piled on, one after another, until my parents’ faces turned scarlet, ready to lunge at them. My mother grabbed a broom, wielding it like a weapon. “You old hags, get out! Don’t you dare cast your evil eyes on our family!” “What happens to our family is none of your business! Stop your gossiping, or I’ll tear your tongues out!” My father, his face stern and cold, shielded us. “I’m telling you all, I, Frank Hayes, would sell everything I own to support my daughter!” The villagers, seeing my parents’ wrath, cursed under their breath and finally left. I stared at the rejected acceptance letter, a cold, official condemnation, utterly unable to comprehend. What was so wrong with my name? Why did every university, upon seeing it, recoil as if from a plague? My mind was a frantic hamster wheel, churning, grasping, pulling at my hair until strands littered the floor like fallen leaves. My parents, seeing me huddled on the ground, my eyes bloodshot with exhaustion and grief, felt a fresh wave of both pity and desperate worry. My father smoked in frustrated silence. My mother, terrified I might do something foolish, tried relentlessly to soothe and reason with me. But my mind was consumed by the repeated rejections, a crushing weight of failure. Would all their sacrifices, all my effort, prove to be nothing but chasing ghosts, a fruitless endeavor? Suddenly, a flicker of light pierced the darkness of my despair. Community college. “Dad, Mom, I have one last chance!” I cried. “The community college results come out in a week! Maybe, just maybe, I can get in there!” Hearing this, my parents finally let out a collective sigh of relief. I thought, a community college was the lowest rung, even the worst students could get in. How could I, with my scores in the seven hundreds, possibly be rejected? Our entire family poured our last reserves of hope into that community college acceptance. After all, with my grades, even starting there, I could always transfer to a four-year university later. We waited an agonizing week, holding our breath. But finally, the acceptance letter arrived. My parents and I huddled together, clutching the letter, tears of joy streaming down our faces. The next morning, my father went into town and bought a chicken to celebrate. My mother bought me two new outfits, insisting I couldn’t look shabby when I started college. Our family sat around the table, eating and celebrating, a rare moment of peace and joy. “Dad, Mom, when I get a job, I’ll buy a big house and bring you both to live with me. I’ll make sure you enjoy your old age!” My parents’ faces crinkled into delighted smiles. “Lily, darling, our biggest wish is just for you to be safe, and to live a life free from the hardships we’ve known.” “We believe in you, our daughter. You’ll achieve great things!” But I never imagined that the community college president would appear at our house, immediately asking for the acceptance letter. The memory of all the previous rejections turned my face white, my legs weak beneath me. Instinctively, I tried to hide the letter on the table. But the president was faster. The moment he opened it, I knew. I cried. Just as I feared, the president’s face darkened the instant he saw the name “Lily Hayes.” He snatched the letter back directly in front of us. “Lily Hayes, I’m sorry, but I have to take back your acceptance. You cannot attend our school!” I couldn’t understand why this was happening again. After the president left, I locked myself in my room, numb with despair. “Lily Hayes, Lily Hayes…” I whispered my name over and over, like a mantra, frantically tearing through my room, overturning drawers, searching for my ID. I needed to see for myself what curse clung to my name! I found my ID. I looked at the name. And in that searing instant, a cold, hard truth slammed into me, piercing through years of manufactured innocence.

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1 My younger sister, Daisy, came home with her boyfriend every day, yet she never used any form of contraception. When I finally asked why, she calmly explained she was using the “side door.” I warned her that area was delicate, that repeated use could lead to infections and other problems. I told her that in this day and age, people were more open-minded, and a man who truly loved her wouldn’t care if she was a “pure” maiden or not. Daisy took my advice to heart. Later, after she broke up with her boyfriend, our mother set her up with a wealthy heir. On their wedding night, because Daisy didn’t bleed, the groom erupted in a furious rage. The incident spread like wildfire, becoming the talk of the town the very next day. Daisy was publicly humiliated, and she blamed it all on me. Her face contorted into a hideous mask of fury as she forced my head into a pot of scalding boiling water. “It’s all your fault!” she shrieked, her voice thick with venom. “If I had remained a virgin, I could have been a socialite, and no one would be laughing at me!” When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day Daisy told me she never used contraception. … “Sis, don’t worry. I won’t get pregnant. Every time I’m with Leo, I use the side door.” My sister said, wiggling her hips suggestively. Looking at her face, I felt a shudder of revulsion. The suffocating sensation of boiling water filling my airways, that horrifying memory from my past life, washed over me. It took immense effort to compose myself. “Wow,” I managed, my voice strained. “You’re so clever.” Daisy continued, eager to share her wisdom. “Sis, I’m telling you, that spot can give a guy just as much pleasure. Don’t listen to Mom. It’s the twenty-first century. Living in the moment is what matters.” “It’s because of your old-fashioned thinking that you can’t keep a boyfriend.” I smiled faintly. Daisy’s smugness stemmed from the fact that her current boyfriend, Leo, was my ex. We’d dated for two years, but he’d broken up with me because I refused to have premarital sex. Less than three days after our breakup, Leo and my sister went public with their relationship. It was only when I went to Leo’s apartment to collect my belongings that I discovered they’d been secretly involved for a while. Daisy visited Leo’s rental unit every day, and their raucous antics echoed from the third floor all the way up to the fifth. All the neighbors knew. When I first learned this, my initial reaction wasn’t anger, but a chilling realization: if Mom found out, Daisy would be completely ruined. Our father passed away early, leaving Mom to raise Daisy and me alone. Mom was a professional matchmaker, with an impressive network of eligible bachelors from high society. Having dealt with these affluent families for so long, Mom understood their strict requirements for a potential spouse. A key one being: “cleanliness.” So, from a young age, Mom hammered one rule into Daisy and me: dating was fine, but premarital sex was absolutely forbidden. Mom would constantly repeat, her voice earnest: “Marriage is your second chance at life. These men might say they don’t care, but deep down, they all want a pure maiden. You two must guard your boundaries, or don’t blame me for disowning you.” On the way home from Leo’s place, I kept thinking about helping Daisy confess to Mom. To my surprise, when I told Daisy this, she calmly informed me she was still a “pure maiden,” because she hadn’t used the conventional route. I stared for a few seconds, letting her words sink in. Then, my concern shifted to her health. As someone with basic medical knowledge, I knew how delicate the “side door” was. It was merely an excretory opening, with muscles around the sphincter that controlled its tightness. It wasn’t meant to be open for long, let alone violently forced open repeatedly. Such abuse would surely damage the muscles and lead to a host of complications. I immediately explained all this to Daisy, telling her, “A man who truly loves you wouldn’t make you suffer like this, nor would he care about that ‘layer.’ If you enjoy that kind of intimacy, use the normal way to experience pleasure. And if someone truly cares about it, we can always get a repair surgery.” Daisy’s eyes lit up at the mention of surgery, and she subsequently changed her habit of using the “side door.” I never imagined that after she broke up with Leo, Mom would set her up with a rich heir. Despite the repair surgery, she still didn’t bleed on her wedding night. After the divorce, she blamed me for everything. Recalling this, I still offered a kind warning. “But constantly using the side door will cause injuries, and it’s prone to infection.” Daisy blinked, a mischievous smile on her face. “As long as you’re careful, it won’t. And besides, Sis, I think I was born with a natural charm. That area can also produce… fluids.” That last part sounded exactly like something Leo would have told her to string her along. Normally, that area doesn’t secrete anything. If it did, it meant only one thing: she was infected. This realization brought a surge of grim satisfaction. I feigned envy. “Is that why Leo likes you so much?” At the same time, I used a burner account to send a bunch of “toys” to Leo’s account. 【Handsome, need some little tools? Free shipping to your door!】 Daisy had always loved stealing my things. When she heard a hint of longing in my voice, she immediately became defensive. “Of course! But you probably don’t have this kind of… constitution, Sis. Now that Leo has had a taste of me, he won’t be interested in you. You should give up on him.” I lowered my head, feigning disappointment. Meanwhile, Leo’s phone buzzed with an incoming message. I quickly recommended several “aggressive” toys. Leo picked a few, sent the money, and I promptly placed an order from a local adult store. As I finished replying, Daisy’s phone vibrated. She picked it up, glanced at it, and her face flushed crimson. A moment later, she stood up, grabbed her bag, and headed for the door. “Sis, I have to go out. Remember to keep this from Mom.” Daisy didn’t return that night. When she came back the next day, she could barely walk straight. For the next few days, Leo ordered new “toys” from me daily. The items grew increasingly… extreme, and Daisy’s gait became more and more peculiar. I knew if this continued, Daisy’s body wouldn’t be able to handle it much longer. And the day came sooner than I expected. One Saturday, Daisy clutched my arm, her voice a whispered plea. “Sis, I think… I think it’s torn.” I forced myself to remain calm. “Where?” “Just… there.” She pulled down her pants. “Can you take a look for me? A lot of blood just came out, and it hurts so much.” I grimaced, suppressing a wave of nausea, and saw that the area was indeed not normal. “Sis,” she asked, her voice trembling, “do you think I should go to the hospital? Every time I sneeze these days, I… leak.” That nearly made me vomit. “The hospital?” I frowned. “Do you want Mom to find out you’ve been using the side door?” Mom was very strict about our private lives, and with Daisy staying out lately, she was already suspicious. Daisy’s face fell. “Then what do I do?” I rubbed my hands together. “It doesn’t look too serious. Let’s just go to a small clinic and get some medicine.” Daisy was too embarrassed to go to a proper clinic. In the end, she bought some random ointments online and applied them to the area. Once the medication took effect, Daisy resumed her nightly escapades. But it was clear that the muscles in her “side door” had loosened. She always carried a faint, unsettling odor. Counting the days, I knew it was time. Mom had finally found a suitable rich heir, and the moment she walked in, she was buzzing with excitement, urging Daisy to meet him. “Mr. Chen is truly one in a million, Lily! Worth hundreds of millions, educated abroad, and most importantly, his private life is impeccably clean!” Mom clapped Daisy on the thigh, beaming. “The best part is, he has almost no requirements for his partner, except for one: she must be pure. Daisy, your good fortune has arrived!” Mom was so incredibly excited, but Daisy remained indifferent. “Mom,” she said, flatly, “I don’t want to.” Mom and I both froze. In my past life, Daisy had agreed without a moment’s hesitation. Why was she refusing so quickly now? Mom quickly asked, “Why? Daisy, getting married is like a second chance at life. Don’t you always complain that I haven’t given you good opportunities? This time, I’ve found you an excellent family.” Daisy threw up her hands. “I have a boyfriend.” “Break up with him then,” Mom frowned. “Daisy, you didn’t go and sleep with that boy, did you? You didn’t listen to your mother?” Daisy’s face paled. “Of course not, Mom. I just… don’t want to get married right now. Why don’t you let my sister go on the blind date?” Hearing this, Mom shot me a disgusted glance. “Do you think she’s suitable?” Mom’s hurtful words pierced me like needles. My heart ached. Without a husband, Mom feared gossip, so she was incredibly strict with both me and Daisy. But her strictness was applied very differently. She treated me like a prisoner, while Daisy was her precious child. If I didn’t do my homework, she’d rip up all my textbooks and throw them in the trash, leaving me to face the ridicule of teachers and classmates the next day. If Daisy didn’t do hers, Mom would just scold her softly. If I broke a bowl, she’d make me kneel all night in the freezing cold. If Daisy broke one, she’d just tap her palms twice. I always suspected I wasn’t her biological daughter, even getting a DNA test done when I was an adult. But the results confirmed it: I was indeed her daughter. In my past life, after Daisy pushed me into the scalding water, I was still clinging to life. Mom rushed in, but didn’t even spare me a glance. Instead, she worried if Daisy’s hands were scalded. With my last ounce of strength, I asked her why she played favorites. She gave me a look of pure disgust. “How am I playing favorites? You’re just petty, that’s why you think I’m biased. Daisy never says I’m biased.” But I knew the real reason: Daisy was prettier than me. Mom always said that in this era, beauty was a resource. She firmly believed Daisy could marry into wealth and uplift our family, so she gambled everything on Daisy’s marriage prospects. Despite Mom’s immense reluctance, she didn’t force Daisy to go on the blind date. Unwilling to let such a good opportunity slip through our fingers, she arranged for me to meet Mr. Michael Chen instead. All the way there, she lectured me. “Don’t you dare mention any of your past relationships to Mr. Chen. You’re already not good-looking enough, so if you talk about your past flings, he’ll definitely not be interested.” Sometimes, I wondered if Mom was blind. Daisy stayed out all night, and Mom still believed she was a good girl. I came home on time every day, checked in with her before leaving, yet she still thought I was wild and loose. Thankfully, Michael Chen didn’t seem to care about my appearance. In my previous life, because of his involvement with Daisy, I’d had a poor impression of him. But this time, after talking, I realized he was genuinely a good person. Polite, well-read, and insightful. Just as Mom had said, his only requirement for a partner was personal integrity. This standard, however, stemmed from his own aristocratic background. He was so well-off, and so many women threw themselves at him, yet he remained a virgin. His high standards for himself made his requirement for a partner seem perfectly reasonable. We hit it off. We went on several dates, and our connection grew genuinely. After our last date, a thought even crossed my mind: perhaps my rebirth wasn’t for revenge, but to correct the past, to let me marry Michael Chen. For a moment, marrying Michael Chen seemed like a wonderful idea. But I hadn’t anticipated that after Michael agreed to our engagement, Daisy would break up with Leo. That night, after returning home, she saw Michael. Later that evening, she called Mom into her room. The next morning, Mom told me, “You need to break up with Michael Chen. Your sister wants to be with him.” Her words hit me like a physical blow. I froze for a few seconds. “Isn’t Daisy sick in the head, always stealing other people’s boyfriends? She wanted that trash Leo, and she took him. But now Michael and I are about to get engaged, why does she want to steal him too? Is she addicted to being a mistress?” The words had barely left my mouth when Mom’s hand connected with my cheek, a stinging slap. “Daisy is your sister! How can you say such horrible things? Michael Chen was originally for Daisy! You were the mistress, stealing what was hers!” The slap burned, but it also extinguished the last flicker of love I had for my mother. My patience snapped. “Even so, Michael Chen is my boyfriend now! If she’s so great, let her make him fall for her!” After yelling that, I couldn’t bear to stay in the house. I grabbed my bag and ran out. I knew that if Daisy wanted Michael, Mom would make it happen. But I had faith in Michael. He wasn’t like Leo. I spent the whole day outside, the events of today and my past life replaying like a broken record in my mind. Both then and now, I felt an overwhelming sense of injustice. I thought, after I got engaged to Michael, I would move out. But I hadn’t expected that just a few hours later, before I even made it home, Michael Chen would call. “Vivian,” he said, his voice flat, devoid of emotion, “let’s break up.” My voice trembled with pain. “Why? Is it because of my sister?” A long silence stretched between us. Then Michael spoke, his honesty brutal. “Vivian, you’re a smart woman. You know, people like me, from high society, need a beautiful woman to uphold our reputation. You and your sister have identical family backgrounds. I naturally have to choose the superior one.” “I’m sorry. I’ll offer you some compensation. Just please, don’t try to cling to me. In the future, when we meet, let’s be friends.” Friends? What a load of crap. I hung up, then smashed my phone to pieces. I took a few shaky breaths, but the tears wouldn’t be held back. They poured down my face, a hot, cleansing torrent. I took out my now-smashed phone, preparing to delete all the photos I’d taken with Michael Chen. As I scrolled through a few, my eyes widened. Minutes later, all my anger and resentment melted away, replaced by a strange sense of relief, as I stared at the photo album.

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1 My valedictorian daughter died tragically on her way to a part-time job, while my impoverished husband threw a lavish graduation party for his comrade’s widow’s son. For eighteen years of marriage, my husband had drained our entire fortune, incurring millions in debt, all to treat his fallen comrade’s son. To pay off his debts, I worked myself to the bone, ceaselessly earning money. Even my daughter, the top student, juggled five part-time jobs. Yet, on her way to one of those jobs, she was struck by a horrific car accident. Her head was fractured, her abdomen ruptured, and she desperately needed a massive sum for medical care. “Mom,” she whispered, her last breath ragged, “I don’t want treatment. I miss Dad.” In my despair, I called Mark Carter a hundred times, but there was no answer. When I rushed to his “workplace,” I found him throwing a grand graduation banquet for someone else’s son. “Mr. Carter presents a beachfront mansion, congratulating Young Master Leo Miller on his brilliant success!” “Mr. Carter presents a luxury car, wishing Young Master Leo Miller smooth sailing and a boundless future!” “Mr. Carter presents an unlimited black card, wishing Young Master Leo Miller health and freedom from all ailments!” I watched my husband embrace Sarah Miller, his comrade’s widow, on stage. I dialed his number for the 101st time. “Our daughter… she wants to see you one last time.” “Eve, I’m busy with work right now. You and Ella be good, just wait a little longer…” Hearing Mark’s impatient hang-up, the dial tone buzzing in my ear, I slowly lowered my phone. Mark, our daughter won’t be waiting for you. And neither will I. Walking out of the banquet hall, the hospital’s death certificate arrived. My brilliant, sensible daughter, only eighteen, had left this world forever. My heart was shattered, and I wept until I fainted. My daughter, who only wanted to help ease our family’s financial burden, had been struck down, her body broken beyond recognition. And the father she longed to see in her final moments was, at that very second, celebrating a lavish graduation party for his comrade’s child. I forced myself to see Ella one last time, then sat by the river for what felt like an eternity, until a dazzling display of fireworks erupted across the night sky. Instinctively, I reached for my phone, wanting to snap a picture for Ella—she had always loved fireworks, but she was too considerate to ever ask for them. The fireworks burst across the heavens, blindingly brilliant, and then, amidst the vibrant explosions, a picture coalesced: Mark Carter, Sarah Miller, his comrade’s widow, and her son, Leo Miller. 【Congratulations, Leo, on your graduation!】 This was their true family of three. I stared, transfixed, as the image hung in the air. My phone slipped from my grasp, and the dam of suppressed emotions burst. Years ago, Mark had drained our savings and plunged us into deep debt, all to treat his comrade’s son. For this family, to pay off that debt, I had toiled day and night, my face sallow, etched with premature wrinkles. Even Ella juggled five part-time jobs, working alone as a restaurant waitress, silently enduring a broken rib from a drunk patron. Yet, the money my daughter and I had worked ourselves to death to save was barely a fraction of what Mark spent on Leo’s extravagant fireworks display. I sank to the ground, sobbing, gasping for air, and then a violent wave of nausea overwhelmed me. I retched uncontrollably. The dazzling fireworks above, once a symbol of joy, now felt like sharp blades, endlessly slicing at my heart. Late that night, I returned home. Mark’s voice drifted from our shabby rental apartment. “Mark, you’ve been pretending to be poor at home for me and Leo. If Eve ever finds out the truth, will she resent us?” Mark’s tone was indifferent, as if discussing something trivial. “No. She and Ella already have my love. A little hardship is nothing.” “Leo’s father saved my life all those years ago. I’ll never forget that debt. Now that Leo’s graduated, I’ll take good care of them, mother and son.” I stood at the doorway, the death certificate clutched in my hand, my fingers trembling violently, my nails almost digging into my flesh. 2 Mark, you honored your debt, but you used my daughter’s life to do it! I didn’t push the door open. Instead, I went to the hospital alone. Ella had always been afraid of the dark, and I couldn’t bear to leave her in that cold morgue. The next day, on the way to the crematorium, my phone was crammed with Mark’s missed calls and texts. I ignored them. Clutching Ella’s urn, I contacted relatives and friends one by one to inform them of her death. After a full day of somber arrangements, I returned to our rental apartment. Mark sat alone in a chair, his designer suit replaced with cheap clothes. Seeing me, he rushed forward, taking my hand. “Why weren’t you home last night? Your phone was off. I rushed back the moment my business trip ended, didn’t even stop to eat.” His voice was soft, laced with gentle concern. I looked at Mark, feeling only a profound absurdity. His acting was good, but the expensive women’s perfume clinging to him was jarringly out of place in our dilapidated apartment. “I spent the night with our daughter.” My voice was flat, emotionless. I turned to go to my room. Mark sensed my coldness. He wrapped his arms around my waist, whispering, “Eve, don’t be angry. I’ve been busy with work trips lately; I know I’ve neglected you and Ella. But aren’t I working so hard to give you a better life?” I stiffened, forcing my head up, fighting back the tears. Working hard? His “work” was throwing a graduation party for his comrade’s son. The scent of her perfume on him made my stomach churn. I struggled fiercely, trying to break free. But Mark wouldn’t let go. Ignoring my resistance, he carried me to the bed, pouring his sweat into the act, as if to physically prove his love for me. “Eve, I’ll make it up to you and Ella. I promise.” His words, like a knife, shredded my last defense. Tears finally poured down my face. Ella was dead. What could he possibly make up for? I pushed him away with all my strength. “Go to sleep. I’m not in the mood.” Mark, met with my resistance, inexplicably grew agitated. He got up, made a phone call, and slammed the door as he left. I lay limply on the bed, watching him go, tears streaming down my face as I stared at the leaking, peeling ceiling. A strange sense of relief washed over me. For eighteen years, for this family, for Mark, I had spun like a top, tireless. Now, it was time to stop. 3 On the day of Ella’s burial, Mark returned to the rental apartment with a bag full of clothes and toys. “Eve, get ready. Let’s go pick up Ella to watch the fireworks.” Pick up our daughter? Could we still? I ignored the hickeys on his neck, looking at the educational toy set. He must have forgotten. Ella had just turned eighteen, and she’d already finished her college entrance exams. She was too old for toys like this. “Hurry up. I haven’t seen Ella in so long. She must miss me, too.” Mark urged. A wave of bitterness washed over me. So he knew Ella missed him. “Alright, we’ll go pick up our daughter.” I handed Mark the address for Northwood Cemetery. As we neared the burial site, the somber strains of funeral music reached us. Mark complained impatiently, “Why is Ella all the way out in the suburbs? There’s a funeral going on next door. So unlucky!” I sat quietly in the passenger seat, saying nothing. I was curious to see his expression when he saw our daughter’s funeral portrait. Suddenly, my phone rang. I clearly heard Sarah Miller’s voice from the receiver: “Mark, Leo suddenly has a fever! I don’t know what to do!” “Don’t worry, I’ll be right there.” Mark immediately turned the car around at the cemetery entrance. In his haste, the wheels crushed Ella’s floral wreath. “The company just called for an urgent overtime. I have to go quickly.” Watching his car disappear, I walked alone into the funeral service, gazing at Ella’s black-and-white portrait in the funeral hall. My daughter had whispered her longing to see her father in her last moments. She never got to. I handled everything alone, tending to the relatives and friends. After the funeral, I personally lowered Ella’s urn into the grave. Images of Ella and me, leaning on each other through life, flashed through my mind. Grief consumed me in an instant. A mouthful of blood rose to my throat, and I collapsed before my daughter’s tombstone. I woke up in the hospital. Struggling to sit up, I passed the room next door and saw Mark by the bedside, carefully wiping Leo’s forehead. This was his “overtime.” Even though I knew his heart belonged to Sarah and her son, seeing this sight still squeezed my heart. When Ella was sick, she always endured it alone. So many times, I heard her call for her father in pain, but Mark never once softened. I took a deep breath, wiping away my tears. Ella was gone. I no longer had any reason to cling to this family. “Eve, what are you doing here?” Sarah called out to me. Mark paused, mid-wipe, and cleared his throat. “I just finished working overtime. I heard Leo was sick, so I stopped by.” I forced a brittle smile. At this point, was there any need to keep lying to me? “Mark, please take care of Leo. Eve and I haven’t seen each other in so long. Let’s talk~” Sarah’s voice was cloyingly sweet, her tone as natural as if she were instructing her own husband. She pulled me out of the hospital room, and the feigned tenderness on her face instantly morphed into a sneer. “I’ve realized Mark is such a good father. Look how carefully he takes care of Leo.” My fists clenched, but I said nothing. Sarah glanced at me, then casually admired her freshly manicured nails. “Mark manages all of Leo’s and my expenses. He says it’s hard for me to raise a child alone, and he even got me a spa membership.” “As for you, why have you let yourself go and become such a frumpy old hag?” For eighteen years, for this family, I’d worked 14-hour days, scrimping and saving every penny. My daughter, after school, would collect empty bottles to sell, enduring countless sneers. My heart was dead, too numb to retort. “A man’s money is where his love is. Mark stopped loving you long ago. If you’re smart, you’ll pack your bags and get out.” I listened silently, offering no defense. Because she was speaking the truth. From beginning to end, Mark’s eyes had only been on his comrade’s widow and her son. My daughter and I were nothing but a cruel joke, a footnote in his grand narrative of loyalty. Suddenly, Sarah leaned closer, lowering her voice, a smirk playing on her lips. “Oh, by the way, a few days ago, Mark bought Leo a sports car. Leo was speeding and accidentally hit and killed a student on their part-time job. I wonder whose child it was. So pitiful…” “What did you say?!” I snapped, turning sharply to face Sarah. Sarah instinctively recoiled, deliberately stumbling and falling to the ground with a loud thud. The next second, Mark rushed forward, kicking me hard in the abdomen, then carefully helped the feigning Sarah up, her shin bruised. Sarah leaned into his embrace, feigning strength. “Mark, I’m fine. Eve probably misunderstood our relationship. If she hits me once to let out her anger, it’ll be fine.” Mark shielded Sarah, his eyes cold as ice as he glared at me. “Eve Carter! Sarah already has it hard enough raising a child alone, and you keep targeting her! How can you be so vicious?!” I crumpled to the ground, a sharp, searing pain ripping through my lower abdomen. Blood gushed uncontrollably from my throat. Medical staff, hearing the commotion, rushed over to help me. “Treat Sarah’s injuries first!” Mark barked at the medical staff. “Mr. Carter, Miss Hayes is bleeding from her mouth…” “Let her suffer! She just hurt Sarah! This is her punishment!” I curled up alone in the cold hospital corridor, my forehead beaded with cold sweat, my abdomen wracked with spasms, the stabbing pain growing more and more intense. “It hurts… Help… Help me…” I struggled to call out, to beg for aid. My vision blurred, until all that remained was Mark’s indifferent gaze, and his resolute back as he walked away, carrying Sarah in his arms. I woke up the next day. “Miss Carter, you’ve overworked yourself for years, and your diet and routine have been chaotic. You have late-stage stomach cancer. You have only one month left.” I leaned weakly against the headboard, tears streaming down my face, uncontrollable. “Eve!” Mark burst through the door. Seeing my red-rimmed eyes, he patiently began to explain. “Sarah’s husband saved my life on the battlefield all those years ago. I promised to take good care of her and Leo.” “Now Leo has ranked second in the whole state in his exams. From now on, I’ll spend more time with you and Ella, okay?” I looked at Mark, my eyes hollow, devoid of expression. “Do you know Ella’s exam scores?” A flicker of surprise crossed Mark’s face. “Ella also took the exams this year? Don’t worry, even if her scores aren’t as good as Leo’s, I’ll find a way to get her into a prestigious university.” “No chance.” “No chance? What do you mean?” Mark’s expression darkened. He sensed something was wrong and was about to press further. The next moment, Sarah’s call came through. “Mark, there are so many police officers in Leo’s room! Come quickly…” Mark hesitated, but then turned to leave, adding only one more instruction. “Rest well. Once I handle Sarah’s situation, I’ll come pick you and Ella up to enjoy life.” Watching Mark’s retreating back, I shook my head bitterly. I’d long lost count of how many times Mark had abandoned me, but this time, I wouldn’t wait for him anymore. I booked the nearest flight, my thumb gently tracing Ella’s picture, a sad, knowing smile on my lips. “One month, Ella. Don’t be scared. Mom will be with you soon.” Mark arrived at Sarah’s hospital room. Two police officers were preparing to take Sarah’s son, Leo, away. “Leo Miller, you are suspected of hit-and-run resulting in death. Please come with us.” Mark immediately stepped in. “It’s just hitting someone with a car. Leo is still young and didn’t know any better. Who was the victim? I can offer financial compensation to the family.” The police officer glanced at Mark, then, after a moment of silence, spoke. “The victim was this year’s state valedictorian. Ella Carter.”

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Midnight. Raucous shouts ripped through the silence from the dorm room above. I jolted awake, the sounds of chairs scraping across the floor mingling with bursts of laughter and piercing screams. “Lunatics!” I muttered, stuffing earplugs in before rolling over and drifting back to sleep. The next morning, yellow police tape barred the staircase leading to the upper floor. It was only then I learned the truth: the dorm room upstairs had been a slaughterhouse. All four residents, gone. 1 To piece together what happened that night, all four of us from the downstairs dorm suite were brought in for questioning at the precinct. The grisly discovery of the four victims in Room 414 had been made by the girls in Room 427, right next door. It was still dark, as winter mornings broke late, when the 427 girls, rushing for their 8 AM class, noticed 414’s door was still shut tight, no lights on. Then, looking down, they saw it: a thick, dark liquid seeping from beneath the door, a pool of black dread. Though the scene was quickly cordoned off by the police, some ghoulish onlookers had already managed to snap photos, circulating them in group chats. The images were sickening: a room awash in crimson, bodies shattered and strewn… Lily had puked on the spot. Nora, Julie, and I sat in the precinct’s waiting room, Lily currently inside, being questioned. The air in that room was suffocating, thick with unspoken guilt. What if, just one of us, annoyed by the noise last night, had bothered to check? Could we have stopped a massacre? Even if not, could we have at least caught a glimpse of the killer, offered some vital clue? But no. Nothing. I had even cursed them, calling them lunatics as they died, then rolled over and slept through till dawn. Now, I couldn’t even close my eyes. The moment my head hit the pillow, I saw crimson bleeding through the ceiling, a phantom stain. Understanding our fragile mental state, the police had specially brought in a professional therapist, not for “interrogation,” but to help us cope. The interrogation room door creaked open, and Lily emerged, supported by a woman with long, dark hair – the therapist. 2 Dr. Evelyn Stone, a renowned criminal psychologist, had always been the precinct’s go-to partner for cracking major cases. Her secret weapon? An uncanny mastery of hypnosis. While suspects could easily control their words when awake, under her hypnotic spell, every detail, every memory, would spill forth, laid bare for the therapist. Evelyn gently guided Lily to sit beside me, her voice a soothing murmur. “Alright, kids. Thank you for all the information you’ve given the officers. They said you’ve been pretty shaken up, but don’t worry. I’m going to talk to each of you individually, help you process everything. Sound good?” This therapist… she was talking to us like we were little kids. Her ID badge showed she was only about four years older than us. But at that moment, I couldn’t care less. I was desperate for that “psychological guidance.” 3 We entered the therapy room one by one. During the twenty minutes of my hypnotic session, I had no idea what transpired. All I knew was that when I woke, my mind felt lighter, my body relaxed, and for a blissful moment, the blood-soaked horror of Room 414 vanished from my thoughts. As I left the room, Evelyn gave me a warm smile. “Nice Doc Martens, kiddo.” I waited in the lounge while the others took their turns. A kind young officer, sensing my boredom, even brought me a tablet to watch videos. Lily was the last one. This time, she walked out on her own, no need for assistance. “Congratulations, kids. You’ll all sleep soundly tonight,” Evelyn announced, clapping her hands softly. Her gaze swept over the group, then settled on me. I offered a reflexive smile, but the moment our eyes met, a shiver of ice crawled up my spine. Her red lips parted, a whisper that shattered the calm. “My apologies, Anna White, but you’ll be staying.” Nora, Julie, and Lily froze simultaneously. Lily was the first to speak, her voice trembling. “Why?” Evelyn’s long strides carried her swiftly toward me. My wrist suddenly felt heavy, then the cold, unyielding weight of handcuffs snapped shut around it. She was still smiling, but her eyes held no warmth, no joy, only an unsettling detachment. “You,” she said, her voice dropping, “are the one who murdered everyone in Room 414.” 4 “What did you say?!” Nora surged forward, planting herself protectively between me and Evelyn. “Anna’s been with us this whole time! There’s no way she could have killed anyone!” Julie and Lily quickly chimed in, “Yeah, I even heard her toss and turn that night!” Evelyn simply crossed her arms, a knowing look on her face. “You’ve all been fooled by her.” Nora’s anger flared. “That’s a lie! I thought you were one of the good guys, but you’re just twisting everything! Officer! Get over here!” Her voice, loud and clear, echoed through the precinct as she yelled at the patrol officers standing nearby. “Come quick! Someone’s trying to illegally detain her!” A handful of officers quickly gathered, their gazes shifting between my terrified face and Evelyn’s composed one, confusion etching their features. “Dr. Stone, are you saying this young woman killed four people?” Evelyn just smiled, offering no verbal reply. “But… that’s impossible. The killer was a ruthless brute. She’s just a 22-year-old girl.” Evelyn looked at me, her smile unwavering. “Then let’s review the footage.” 5 I hadn’t killed anyone. But when the hypnosis video played, my jaw dropped. On screen, I lay back on the soft recliner, Evelyn’s voice a gentle current, guiding me through questions. From simple things like my name and college, to intimate details like the time I’d used a cheat sheet on a test, even the deep, buried history of my bitterness towards my family — it all spilled out, unconsciously, without hesitation. I clapped a hand over my mouth, a gasp caught in my throat. So many of those little things, details I barely remembered myself, yet I’d answered with chilling fluency when she’d probed. Hypnosis, I knew, could unearth long-buried memories. And then, at the end, she had asked: “What were you doing at 1 AM on April 12th?” “I killed them.” Evelyn’s voice had been soft, a mere whisper. “Who?” “The four in Room 414.” 6 A cold shiver ran down my spine. Nora, Julie, and Lily stared, their faces etched with disbelief. I shook my head frantically. “It wasn’t me! I was woken up by the noise upstairs at that exact time – I looked at my clock, it was 1 AM! I swore, called them lunatics, then put in my earplugs and went back to sleep!” Lily quickly vouched for me. “I swear it! I’m a light sleeper, and I heard her toss and turn!” Nora nodded, “I sleep head-to-head with her, I heard her swear! How could it be her?” Julie also came to my defense. “Even though I was half-asleep, there’s no way it was Anna! She has a history of depression, and after she got better, she became incredibly sensitive to screaming. That night, I heard screams coming from upstairs; Anna would never go anywhere near that!” At the long table, the four of us from Room 314 sat on one side, Evelyn and the officers on the other. The police, though allied with their consultant, still cast uncertain glances at me. One officer murmured to Evelyn, “The girl has a history of depression, confirmed by hospital records. She has an adverse reaction to screaming. Could there be a mistake?” Evelyn offered a faint smile. “Detective Miller, when has my hypnosis ever been wrong?” Miller fell silent. I knew her reputation. In the four years since she graduated, Evelyn Stone had helped solve over a hundred major cases, including twelve cold cases from the last century. And remarkably, she had never once been proven wrong. 7 Given Evelyn’s unparalleled accuracy, her superiors had granted her special authorization: any suspect she identified through her methods could be directly detained. That’s how I ended up stuck at the precinct. Still, to actually prosecute me, they’d need solid, undeniable evidence. Evelyn was giving me a lot of personal attention these days, a direct consequence of the limited detention period. If they couldn’t find concrete evidence within five days, I’d be released, and her special authorization would be revoked. I wasn’t worried. I knew I’d been in my bed all night. In five days, I’d become the first blemish on her perfect record. Then, on the fourth night, the police found my footprint in the bloodstains of Room 414. 8 Faced with irrefutable evidence, I was formally taken into custody. Evelyn sat across from me in the interrogation room, a smug, confident smile playing on her lips. “So, Anna White, how are we doing?” I clenched my fists. “I never went into Room 414!” Detective Miller’s gaze was complex, laced with pity and confusion. “Then how do you explain your footprint being there?” I had no words. He was right. How could my footprint be there? I hadn’t even gotten out of bed that night! How was this possible? Had I sleepwalked and committed murder? But I’d heard the noise upstairs before I fell asleep, hadn’t I? Those screams mixed with laughter, sounds that made me think they were just having a wild party… My breathing hitched, becoming visibly rapid, a knot of suffocating panic tightening in my chest. Overwhelmed, I clutched my head, curling into a tight ball on the chair. “I… I don’t know… I didn’t… Gasp! Gasp!…” “Hey! Kid, are you alright? Dr. Stone! Help her!” 9 When I finally came to, Lily was sitting across from me. Apparently, while I was blacking out, I’d been frantically demanding to see one of my roommates. I just desperately needed to know if I had truly left my bed or the dorm that night. Lily was the only one free, with no classes at that hour, so the police had called her in. Gazing at my long-unseen friend, I parted my lips, my voice raspy. “Lily, I…” Lily raised a hand, cutting me off. “I know what you’re going to ask. No need.” I blinked, confused. Lily, still across the long table, shifted her eyes to the side. “I looked into it…” I didn’t understand. She pulled her gaze back to me, giving a conspiratorial wink. “Just keep denying everything.” “But that night, I…” “Relax,” Lily interrupted, her voice firm. “I barely slept that night. You never left your bed. Don’t doubt yourself.” The meeting ended just like that. After Lily left, I remained seated, unable to process what had just happened. It wasn’t until Detective Miller gently pulled on my arm that I managed to stand. Turning, I saw Evelyn standing at the doorway, her gaze fixed on me, strangely knowing. Wait! I snapped my head back to where Lily had been sitting. Lily’s eyes had been looking… slowly, I lifted my gaze. Lily had been looking into… Evelyn?

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1 At my mother’s funeral, Mr. Davies, our family butler, suddenly received evidence of my fiancé’s infidelity. “Miss White, Mr. Harrington’s mistress has given birth to a child!” Nate Harrington offered no explanation, merely stating in a clipped, indifferent tone, “Just focus on the funeral for now.” The next day, he didn’t attend the wake. He simply called. “I’ve been at the luxury postpartum retreat, looking after her. I won’t make it to the funeral.” When I remained silent, he sighed. “Don’t worry, she and I were just an accident. She has no intention of disrupting the alliance between the Harrington and White families. She just wants to keep the child as a remembrance.” He paused, then continued, “But I am, after all, the father. I can’t just abandon the child. After we’re married, I’ll stay at her place on Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays, and Sundays to care for the baby. Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, I’ll be back at the Harrington Estate.” I clenched my fists so tight my palms ached, a bitter laugh bubbling up, hot tears stinging my eyes. “Nate Harrington, we’re done. The engagement is off.” He scoffed. “Your mother just passed. Don’t throw a tantrum.” I ended the call abruptly, then turned, walking straight up to Nate Harrington’s sworn rival. “Marry me. Help me take down the Harringtons. Interested?” At the funeral, a flicker of astonishment crossed Chris Walker’s eyes. His stern face slowly flushed a faint red as he stammered, “Our family tradition dictates one wife for life. Marry me, and you’re mine, forever.” Seeing his hesitation, I turned to leave in disappointment, but he suddenly grabbed my wrist. His usually untamed eyes were now earnest, his gaze intense. “Anna White, think this through. Once we’re married, there’s no going back.” A faint smile touched my lips, and I nodded with certainty. “Good. No going back.” Chris Walker was, in fact, the fiancé my mother had chosen for me years ago. His character, family background, and upbringing were all impeccable. If I hadn’t made the mistake of falling for Nate Harrington back then, I would have married Chris. The funeral arrangements were complex, and Chris spent a solid two weeks helping me manage all the affairs, tirelessly handling every detail. During that entire time, Nate Harrington didn’t make a single call. For those two weeks, every time I scrolled through my social media feed, I’d see intimate photos of him and Scarlett Vance. They were always beaming, holding the baby, making a heart shape with their hands. The caption: “Our dearest, most beloved family.” I sneered, a sharp pang of envy twisting in my gut. Just then, his call came through, his voice laced with a lazy indifference. “Funeral’s over, right? Want to come to the postpartum retreat to see the kid?” I gazed at my haggard reflection in the rearview mirror, my voice flat. “Nate Harrington, we’re already broken up.” A moment of silence on the other end, then he nonchalantly replied, “Good. Scarlett’s been a little depressed postpartum. Seeing you might upset her.” The tears I’d held back for half a month finally spilled. My eyes burned, and I laughed, a self-deprecating sound. “Nate, I said we’re broken up. Are you deaf?” He paused, then scoffed. “Anna, you’ve been with me for five years. I’m practically bored of you. Who else would want you once I’m done? I told you, the kid was just an accident. Why are you so stubborn?” Before I could retort, the sound of shattering porcelain echoed from his end of the line. He sneered. “Fine, if you want to break up, break up. I’ll be waiting to see you crawl back and beg me.” The call ended abruptly, the dial tone a rude assault. I returned to the Harrington Estate, only to find the entry code had been changed. Nate Harrington’s calls went straight to voicemail, so I found a random hotel to stay the night. The next morning, a social media notification popped up: a live stream from the postpartum retreat. Scarlett Vance was animatedly interacting with the camera, while Nate Harrington sat beside her, his gaze doting. That tender look… I’d once believed it belonged only to me. The stream had been going for nearly five hours. Fans flooded the comments: “So jealous of the streamer, living in a half-million-dollar-a-month retreat with her husband constantly by her side!” “So blessed! I want a perfect husband like that!” Before inheriting Harrington Corp, Nate Harrington had been a decorated military officer, notoriously averse to public appearances. In the past, I’d begged him for a single photo together, and he’d always refused with a cold expression. Yet now, for Scarlett Vance, he was making an exception, openly flaunting their affection live for the entire nation. Scarlett beamed. “He’s just so thoughtful~” Thoughtful? A searing pain, like a knife twisting in my gut, ripped through my chest. I smiled, wiping away the tears in the corner of my eye. For me, Nate Harrington had never once done anything thoughtful. I remembered begging him to watch a movie with me, relentlessly nagging him until he finally agreed. But during the two-hour film, he’d slept for an hour and a half, then woken up, rubbing his temples, and disdainfully remarked, “Spending time with you is a waste of time.” He wasn’t incapable of caring; he just chose not to care for me. Nate must have recognized my social media account. He called again. “You have thirty minutes. Come to the postpartum retreat to pick up your mother’s belongings.” By the time I arrived, the live stream was over. Scarlett Vance greeted me with a syrupy sweet smile. “Anna, you came to see us!” I walked straight to Nate Harrington, holding out my hand. “Give them to me.” His previously upturned lips instantly tightened, his face darkening. “Scarlett spoke to you. Are you deaf?” I forced a smile, turning to Scarlett. “Congratulations, Ms. Vance, on getting what you wanted and bearing a child out of wedlock. What’s next? Using the baby to climb the social ladder?” “Crack!” A stinging slap landed hard across my face. Nate Harrington smashed the teacup in his hand to the floor. “If you can’t say anything decent, shut up!” Scarlett suddenly clutched her stomach, crying out in pain, tears splashing onto the floor. Nate instantly tensed. “Scarlett, what is it? Where does it hurt?” She bit her lip, her eyes red and tearful as she looked at me. “Anna, I didn’t want to ruin things between you and Mr. Harrington, but the doctor said this might be my only chance to be a mother. Don’t worry, I’ll leave as soon as I’ve recovered from childbirth. I promise I won’t cling to him.” She then looked at the baby in the cradle. “Mommy is so sorry, my little one. You were born without a father, but Mommy didn’t mean to. I hope you can forgive Mommy…” She dissolved into wrenching sobs, appearing utterly consumed by pain and sorrow. Nate’s gaze at me turned venomous, his entire demeanor chilling. “Are you happy now, making her cry?” I scoffed. “Such amateur dramatics. Only you’d be so entertained.” My attitude infuriated Nate Harrington. He tore the pocket watch — my mother’s heirloom — from around his neck, raising it high, about to smash it to the ground. My pupils constricted. “No! Don’t!” He didn’t stop. He flung the watch with brute force, sending it crashing to the ground. The watch face shattered, fragments scattering across the floor. I stumbled over the sharp corner of a table, my bone cracking against it. A searing pain shot through me, making me hiss through clenched teeth. Nate Harrington sneered. “That’s what you get for being disrespectful.” He waved his hand dismissively. “Now get out. Don’t bother trying to play victim here.” Scarlett Vance cast a look of feigned concern my way. “Anna, please get up. Mr. Harrington saw you faking a fall…” I gritted my teeth, shooting her a frigid glare. Seeing me dare to glare at Scarlett, Nate yanked me from the floor. “Scarlett has a lot of soiled clothes from postpartum care. Go wash them. Make sure you handwash them all before you leave.” I yanked my arm away. “Why should I?” “Because you just bullied Scarlett!” Nate Harrington’s face was terrifyingly dark. “You owe her an apology!” I endured the piercing pain in my foot, straightening my back. “Dream on!” Nate’s eyes turned to ice. He shoved me into the bathroom. “Bang!” He locked the door from the outside. “You’re not coming out until they’re spotless!” “Nate Harrington, this is kidnapping!” I rattled the doorknob with all my might, screaming, “Let me out!” The door vibrated from my pounding, but outside, an eerie silence had fallen. My hands burned, and my foot throbbed with excruciating pain. The room reeked of sour milk and vomit. I collapsed, kneeling weakly on the floor. Through the door, I heard Scarlett’s saccharine voice. “Mr. Harrington, won’t Anna be angry when she comes out if you treat her like this?” Nate scoffed softly. “So what if she’s angry? I can always smooth things over later. Besides, this is her fault. If she doesn’t get rid of that spoiled princess attitude, who’s going to put up with her when she marries into the Harrington family?” “The Harrington family has a history of military service. If there weren’t so few heirs to Harrington Corp, my mother wouldn’t have let me marry a socialite heiress. She’s useless, except for spending money.” Scarlett feigned worry. “Mr. Harrington, if you say that about Anna, won’t she break up with you?” Silence fell outside the room. After a long pause, Nate Harrington’s cold, arrogant voice returned. “She won’t.” “She’s a socialite with no inheritance rights. The Harrington family is her best option. Besides, she loves me to death. If I told her to die, she’d probably do it.” I clutched my chest, refusing to believe I was hearing such words from Nate Harrington. 2 Our family, the Whites, had always been in business, and we were often targeted by underworld figures. Six years ago, my mother and I were traveling abroad when she was ambushed by thugs. They held a gun to her temple. I screamed myself hoarse, convinced I was about to lose her. At that critical moment, a rushing sound cut through the air. The thugs dropped dead instantly. Nate Harrington stood there, gun in hand, dressed in his military uniform—broad-shouldered, lean-waisted, and decisive. He saved my mother and me with swift precision. I saw his face clearly in the army’s SUV: exquisite features, a proud, sharp nose. It was love at first sight. For an entire year, I relentlessly pursued him, until he finally agreed to date me. For five years, I was completely devoted to him, obeying his every word. This was the gratitude my genuine love received. It was laughable. The bathroom door opened. Nate saw me huddled on the floor, pale, and unhappily pulled me to my feet. “I only told you to wash some clothes. Why are you squatting here, playing the victim for show?” Acid churned in my stomach, rising to my throat. I forced it down, fighting the urge to vomit as I searched for my mother’s belongings. The pocket watch was utterly shattered, broken into countless pieces. I picked them up, one by one. Nate’s voice came from behind me. “Once Scarlett recovers from childbirth, we’ll get married. And after the wedding, Scarlett will move in with us.” Scarlett cast a grateful look my way. “Anna, thank you for accepting me and the baby. I’ll be so grateful to you…” I ignored her empty words, turning to Nate. “No need. We won’t be living together. I’m taking my mother’s belongings. Give me the house code, and I’ll have movers pick up my things.” Nate rattled off a string of numbers, watching me with disdain. “Going to all this trouble, only to move back in eventually.” Scarlett tugged at his sleeve, speaking timidly. “Mr. Harrington, the room…” Nate’s eyes flashed, and he took Scarlett’s hand, leading her into my car. “I’ll come back with you, just to make sure you don’t take anything by mistake.” When we arrived at the house, I finally understood why Nate had insisted on coming back with me. On the sofa, adult novelty items were scattered. On the dining table, sensual candles sat. The bedroom exuded a tempting, illicit allure, with handcuffs attached to both the headboard and footboard of the bed. These past few days, I had been consumed by my mother’s funeral arrangements. I hadn’t been home much. Nate and Scarlett, it seemed, had made full use of their freedom. I walked into my dressing room and found my jewelry scattered everywhere. Several Hermes bags were also missing from their shelves. Scarlett followed behind me, a triumphant, subtle smile playing on her lips. “Anna, is anything missing?” She was desperate to see me explode. But I simply smiled faintly. “A mistress is just a mistress. Always resorting to petty theft.” “You!” Scarlett gasped, her eyes flashing with malice. She cried out, clutching her stomach, and sank to the floor. “Anna, I just had a baby! How… how could you hit me…?” Nate stormed in, helping Scarlett to her feet. He was furious, his hand lashing out, delivering a hard slap to my face. “Anna White, I see you’ve been a socialite heiress for too long—arrogant and domineering!” Nate didn’t hold back. My face swelled immediately. My temples throbbed with rage, and I nearly lost control. “I didn’t hit her!” He didn’t believe me. He yanked me out of the dressing room and flung me to the floor. “Get out. Go back to your White family. Don’t come back until you’ve learned your lesson!” My burning anger slowly turned into a desperate sense of injustice. Infuriated, I surged forward and slapped Scarlett hard across the face. “Smack!” Nate, enraged, raised his hand to strike me again. I bit my lip, staring him down. “That one? That was from me.” I turned and walked away, once again, undignified, tears welling in my eyes. Outside the door, rain poured down, soaking me to the bone. I curled up on the ground, sobbing uncontrollably. After a long time, I realized the rain had stopped hitting me. I looked up. Chris Walker had arrived, I didn’t know when, holding an umbrella, shielding me the entire time. 3 He extended a hand to me, his voice laced with unconcealed tenderness. “Anna, I’ll take you home.” Back at the Walker family estate, I gazed at the familiar courtyard, the familiar housekeeper, Aunt Mae, and couldn’t help but think of the past. Chris’s mother and mine had been best friends since childhood. They had arranged our childhood engagement years ago. But back then, my mother and I often argued, and by extension, I didn’t care for Aunt Mae or little Chris. After middle school, I went to Milan to study art. Chris was sent to England to study business administration. Our reunion, more than ten years later, was at my mother’s funeral. Lost in thought, Chris’s mother, Aunt Mae, approached me with a bowl of ginger tea. She anxiously, tenderly, pulled me into a hug. “That rascal Chris! Letting you get caught in such a downpour! I’ll give him a talking-to for you!” “Mom?” I asked, confused. Chris looked away awkwardly, clearing his throat. “I’ll go get you some dry clothes.” After Chris left, Aunt Mae smiled as she handed me the ginger tea. “Chris already told us. You two are getting married very soon. You have to call me ‘Mom,’ dear.” She chuckled. “Oh, I’ve been waiting for this day for so long. Let’s set the date for the wedding—the one your mother chose before she passed. We won’t change it.” My mother had chosen a date for next month. It was supposed to be my wedding to Nate Harrington. The ginger tea in my mouth slowly warmed my body. At that moment, my eyes couldn’t help but well up. The next day, Chris presented me with all the necessary wedding arrangements, asking me to review each one. I had originally thought that with such short notice, I wouldn’t have time to prepare, perhaps even having to reuse the previous wedding planner’s designs. But Chris had everything perfectly arranged, needing no input from me at all. It showed how much he cared. And Nate Harrington… after five years of dating, if I didn’t press him about marriage, he wouldn’t even have wanted to get married. All the big and small details of our wedding had been handled solely by me. Love or its absence was truly so obvious. Thinking of this, I called my former wedding planning team and canceled the wedding. The next second, my phone rang. It was Nate Harrington’s mother. “Anna White, has your brain turned to mush? How can you be so capricious, canceling the wedding just like that?” Her voice was sharp. “What did Nate do to upset you this time? Can’t you just put up with it? A socialite heiress with such a temper all the time—only our Nate would have you.” No one in the Harrington family ever truly liked me. I used to think Nate’s mother was just tough on the outside, but kindhearted. Not until I heard Nate’s words at the postpartum retreat. Remembering that, I spoke calmly. “Aunt Harrington, Nate and I have broken up. The wedding, naturally, should be canceled.” “Broken up? Did you anger Nate again? Then apologize! You’re a girl; if you don’t know how to charm your husband, later…” I didn’t want to hear her scorn any longer. I hung up. The next day, Chris and I went to a bridal boutique to try on wedding dresses. He took a conference call midway, telling me to go ahead and try them on. I slipped into the gown Chris had specially flown in from Italy and smiled, admiring myself in the mirror. A sound came from behind me. I turned, still smiling, and blurted out, “How do I look?” A flash of stunned admiration crossed Nate Harrington’s eyes. I quickly suppressed my smile, then saw Scarlett Vance emerge from another changing room. Nate’s face darkened instantly. He reached out and roughly tore off my veil. “Oh, so this is it, Anna White! You say you don’t want to get married, but here you are, secretly trying on wedding dresses. Playing hard to get, are we? Enjoying your little game?” His movements were brutal, ripping it off in a second. The sharp pin holding the veil to my hair sliced my face, drawing blood that welled up and dripped onto the million-dollar wedding dress, blooming into a crimson stain. I winced, a gasp of pain escaping me. “Nate Harrington, I’m not here for you!” Beside him, Scarlett’s eyes instantly welled up, and she added fuel to the fire. “Anna, I really didn’t mean to marry Mr. Harrington. I just wanted to take some wedding photos to keep as a memory.” Nate sneered. “Why bother explaining to this kind of woman? Anna, I used to think you were just a bit dramatic, and I indulged you because I loved you. But I never imagined you’d be so reckless, even with our wedding. Fine, then! Let’s just call this wedding off!” With that, he reached out, trying to rip off my wedding dress and throw me out of the boutique. I struggled with all my might. Just as he pinned my waist, preparing to strip me of my gown in front of everyone— Chris Walker arrived just in time. He tripped Nate, sending him sprawling, and swiftly caught me, his hands firm at my waist. “My wife is trying on her wedding dress. You, a so-called ex who should be dead to us, really have some nerve to act like this.”

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1 It was summer break, and I’d brought my seven-year-old daughter, Luna, to our private beach for some snorkeling and fun. But then, a popular actress barged in with a whole entourage. “This private beach was specially approved by Ethan for my VIP guests! You two peasants, get out of here!” she shrieked, arrogant and overbearing, using my husband’s name to threaten me. Even worse, after finding out who I was, she mocked me, calling me a parasite, clinging to my husband! I nearly laughed from sheer indignation. I, the rightful heiress of the top family in Silverwood City, a true powerhouse, reduced to a man’s parasite? And for the record, his film company and all his resources? Those came from me! But when my husband finally arrived, he actually teamed up with that actress, pressuring my daughter to perform a synchronized swimming act for some sleazy investor. I let out a cold laugh. Without a second thought, I called the Sea Shark Security Team – an elite unit only the most powerful figures could summon. “Sea Shark Security, Crescent Cove. Clear the area. Immediately!” … “Luna, look what Mommy got for you!” I held out a chilled coconut water, but as I turned, I saw my daughter cornered in knee-deep water, her face etched with panic. Leading the group was a young woman in a skimpy swimsuit, her makeup heavy, her expression impatient. “Where did this wild brat come from? Get lost!” she spat, pointing at Luna. “Crescent Cove is booked by Ms. Manny today for a party. If you know what’s good for you, clear out now, before you soil our place!” A tall, skinny woman, clearly a minion, echoed her. “Ms. Manny”… The name flashed in my mind. She was the rising star Ethan’s company had been pushing lately. Rumor had it, she’d exploded after a web series, and her temper had grown with her fame. My brows instantly knitted, a wave of annoyance washing over me. I hurried forward, pulling Luna behind me. “This is my private beach. You’re the ones who need to leave!” I struggled to keep my fury in check. But some people just love to poke the bear. “You? Your private beach?” Manny scoffed, looking me up and down with disdain. Seeing my simple T-shirt and ordinary shorts, she laughed even more triumphantly. I narrowed my eyes dangerously and took a step forward. “Do you know who I am?” My aura seemed to momentarily intimidate Manny; she flinched. But then her lackey whispered something to her, and her fear instantly transformed into brazen arrogance. “Who do we have here? Oh, it’s just Ethan Lockwood’s old, drab wife, Sarah, who only knows how to spend money!” The bodyguards and cronies behind her burst into mocking laughter. “What, didn’t Ethan tell you I’m using this place today to entertain some important guests?” Manny deliberately raised her voice. “Right, a leech like you, he probably couldn’t be bothered to inform you. Listen up, I’m hosting my VIPs here today. You and your wild brat, get out now, or don’t blame me for getting nasty!” Her smug, victorious face made my stomach churn. I forced down the anger boiling inside me and looked at the well-dressed group trailing behind her—presumably her “VIP guests.” A few men and women were pointing at us, openly amused. One portly middle-aged man with a beer belly and a thick gold chain was staring at Luna, who was peeking out from behind me, with a repulsive, predatory look. Manny immediately caught his gaze and sidled up to him, fawning. “Mr. Chang, do you like this little girl?” She turned, pointing at Luna, challenging me. “How about she performs a little synchronized swimming to get things started for Mr. Chang? If she makes him happy, I’ll tell Ethan to ‘reward’ his money-spending wife tonight!” 2 “Animal!” I lunged forward, ready to slap her, but two burly bodyguards at my side clamped down on me. The next second, Manny gestured to the two bodyguards closest to Luna. They understood, closing in on Luna, preventing her from getting back to shore. Luna, who’d never seen anything like this, instantly paled, clutching my shorts tightly. Her small body trembled, and she whimpered, “Mommy! Mommy, save me!” “I don’t want to perform!” Rage surged within me. “Let go of my daughter!” Slap! A searing pain erupted on my cheek. Manny shook her wrist, a contemptuous smirk twisting her lips. “You should worry about yourself!” My eyes burned, watching helplessly as the bodyguards pushed my daughter into the water. She clearly lost her footing, choking on several mouthfuls of seawater, and began to cough violently. My eyes burned, and I clenched my fists until my knuckles were white. “I’m saying it again: let my daughter come up!” “Otherwise, you’ll face the consequences!” Seeing my anger, Manny didn’t back down at all. Instead, she grew even more arrogant and reckless. “Consequences? What consequences could you possibly bring?” She extended a hand, brutally slapping my face again. “An old, ugly housewife like you dares to threaten me, Manny Shen?” She then snarled, “I’m telling you, if she doesn’t make Mr. Chang happy today, she’s not coming out of that water! Even if she drowns, Ethan Lockwood—oh no, Mr. Lockwood—he won’t shed a single tear for this wild brat!” She scoffed, “He’s probably praying I keep Mr. Chang and his moneybags happy!” “Ethan will make you pay for treating our daughter like this!” But my words had no effect, only making Manny laugh louder. “Hilarious! Mr. Lockwood already said that an old hag like you can’t satisfy him. He loves me! Besides, if he wants kids, I’m young and pretty, I can give him one anytime!” I stopped wasting breath on these rabid, irrational dogs. Every word was an insult to myself. I violently shoved the bodyguards restraining me, then lunged into the icy water. The frigid seawater instantly enveloped me, yet it couldn’t extinguish the furious blaze in my heart. Manny Shen, I swore I would make her pay! I swam quickly to Luna, scooped her out of the cold water, and held her tightly in my arms. Luna’s face was red, and she coughed uncontrollably. She clung to my neck, whimpering. “Mommy… cough, cough… I’m so scared…” I gently patted her back, shielding her from the chilling sea breeze with my body. Manny, seeing me ruin her plans, flew into a rage. “Damn it! Who told you to pull her out?” she shrieked. “You useless idiot! You ruined Mr. Chang’s mood! Can you take responsibility for that?” She shrieked, “Believe it or not, I’m calling Ethan right now to have you and your wretched daughter thrown out!” She brandished her phone, making as if to dial. However, before her words finished, a powerful roar of an engine rumbled from afar, growing steadily closer. A white speedboat sped towards Crescent Cove, coming to a steady stop not far from the shore. Ethan Lockwood, dressed in casual beachwear and sunglasses, disembarked from the speedboat, surrounded by several assistants and bodyguards. His arrival instantly drew all eyes on the beach. Manny, seeing Ethan, immediately adopted a look of immense grievance, on the verge of tears. She scurried over, dramatically flinging herself at Ethan. She grabbed his arm, her voice so cloying it made me nauseous. “Mr. Lockwood! Mr. Lockwood, you’re finally here!” she simpered. “You wouldn’t believe it! This woman of yours and her kid just popped up out of nowhere, claiming Crescent Cove is hers!” Her talent for twisting the truth was truly masterful. “She even offended Mr. Chang and our other important guests! I tried to kindly reason with her, but she actually tried to hit me!” She pointed to non-existent injuries on her face, dramatically accusing me of crimes. 3 Ethan took off his sunglasses, his face etched with impatience. He first glanced at Mr. Chang and the others behind Manny, whose expressions were clearly annoyed. Then, he casually swept his gaze over a disheveled Luna and me. “Ethan!” “Daddy…” Luna and I called out to him simultaneously. But he only frowned, his voice instantly accusatory. “What’s wrong with you two? Who told you to come to Crescent Cove?” He continued, “Don’t you know I booked this place today to entertain important guests? Now, hurry up and take the child and leave. Don’t embarrass me here!” Luna’s eyes instantly welled with tears. The father before her was utterly unrecognizable. I, too, was stunned in place. “Ethan, this is clearly my private beach, how could you—” “Enough!” He cut me off, his gaze sweeping over my daughter and me with disgust. But then, he turned, offering an apologetic smile to Mr. Chang and the others. “Mr. Chang, Director Chen, I’m so sorry. Please excuse these two unruly commoners for disturbing your enjoyment.” He added, “I’ll make them leave immediately!” Hearing his words, I looked at him in disbelief. Luna cowered in my arms, terrified. “Mommy, why did Daddy say we’re commoners? Is Daddy abandoning us…?” My brows furrowed. To save face for his guests and his mistress, he would actually put my daughter and me in such a humiliating position. A bone-chilling cold roared up to the crown of my head. In that moment, all my efforts and tolerance for him over the past decade felt like a monumental joke. It was my fault, too. For years, I had given him whatever he wanted, even pretending to be an ordinary stay-at-home wife just to let him focus on his career. I had let him believe he could walk all over me! But he had forgotten, I was still the head of the powerful, hidden elite family of Silverwood City, the Whites! I smiled. “Ethan Lockwood.” I enunciated each syllable of his name, my voice terrifyingly calm. “Are you sure you don’t recognize me?” I pressed. “Don’t you recognize the wife you relentlessly pursued, swearing to protect her for life? Don’t you recognize this daughter you once held so tenderly in your arms?” I stared him down. Ethan’s body visibly stiffened, a flicker of panic in his eyes. But he quickly averted his gaze, unable to meet mine. Manny, seeing Ethan not refute her words and instead scold us, was even more convinced he was on her side. She began to crow triumphantly. “Mr. Lockwood has spoken! Did you hear that, you useless hag?! Now get out!” She shrieked, “If you don’t leave now, I’ll call security to throw you two beggars into the sea to feed the sharks!” I stood still, holding my daughter, only watching Ethan, who dared not meet my gaze. “Ethan Lockwood, I’m giving you one more chance. Are you going to clarify our relationship to them or not?” Seven years of marriage, and my saying this was already granting him immense dignity and an easy way out. But he remained stiff, his back to Luna and me. Manny grew even more brazen, barking orders at the bodyguards. “What are you waiting for? Drag these two eyesores out of here! Move it! Don’t ruin Ms. Manny’s party or Mr. Chang’s mood!” Her lackeys echoed her, cheering her on. I watched Manny, cold and still, as she leaped and screeched. Then, I cast a deep, prolonged look at Ethan, who stood silently, unwilling to meet my eyes. Fine. Ethan, this is your choice. I raised my wrist, revealing my custom-made communication watch. The strap bore the White family crest, a unique piece issued only to core family members. Calmly, I pressed a speed-dial button I knew by heart. The call connected almost instantly. A steady, powerful female voice answered, “Ms. White?” I uttered seven plain words: “Sea Shark Security. Crescent Cove. Clear the area.” Manny, hearing me make a call, paused, seemingly confused. Then, she burst into even more exaggerated laughter. “Oh, wow! What an act! Calling for backup?” Tears streamed from her eyes as she laughed. Her sycophantic friends and “VIP guests” joined in, ridiculing me. “Who are you going to call? Your broke relatives to back you up?” they jeered. “Or are you going to ask Mr. Lockwood to reimburse your taxi fare so you can leave with dignity?” “A loser is a loser. Still trying to act tough when death is at your doorstep! How pathetic!” Ethan evidently thought I was just putting on a show, making him look even worse in front of his important clients and beloved mistress. He smiled apologetically at the portly Mr. Chang. “Mr. Chang, just ignore her. She’s just a crazy woman.” His words further solidified their contempt for me. Especially Mr. Chang, who bared a mouthful of yellowed, smoke-stained teeth and leered, pointing at Luna. “The adult can leave, but leave the girl!” “You wouldn’t dare!” I snapped, my voice sharp. Luna buried her face in my arms, trembling. “Mommy, I’m scared…” But to my shock, Ethan actually hesitated! My watch vibrated, a sign that the Sea Shark Security team was close. I took a deep breath, scanning the group surrounding us. “Ethan Lockwood, are you really going to use your own daughter to curry favor with a client?” Ethan awkwardly averted his gaze, muttering, “It’s just playing with Mr. Chang, it’s not like she’ll lose a limb…” His attitude was clear. I scoffed. “You’re truly beyond help!” Manny grew impatient and quickly beckoned her men to grab Luna. “Quickly, bring the girl to Mr. Chang!” “Mommy!” Luna gripped my arm tightly. I patted her back, reassuring her. “Don’t be scared, Mommy’s here.” Just as a burly man was about to grab my daughter’s arm, a dart whizzed through the air and embedded itself sharply in his forearm. Blood spurted, and I quickly covered Luna’s eyes. “Ah—” A guttural cry of pain echoed across the beach. The next second, five sleek black helicopters, each painted with a shark head emblem, descended from the sky!

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1 The zombie horde was a relentless wave, crashing against the Compound’s defenses. Yet, Sarah, captain of the Gifted Squad, had led her entire team to the Exchange District, all to celebrate her ex-boyfriend Liam’s birthday. Command had ordered me to bring my wife back. I refused, point blank. In my last life, when the dead swarmed our walls, I’d driven like a madman, chasing them down, fighting tooth and nail to push back the tide of horrors. But Liam, caught by the lingering infected, had been torn apart, his limbs gnawed away, leaving only a severed head. Sarah, blind to the danger, had plunged into the horde, cradling Liam’s mangled remains back to the Compound, then locked herself away for seven days and seven nights. When she emerged, it was as if nothing had happened. It wasn’t until the serum I spearheaded finally proved successful, ushering humanity into a new age, that the truth revealed itself. On the night we celebrated our victory, she drugged me, then tossed me into a writhing pile of zombies. Amidst my screams, her voice cut through the air, icy and devoid of all warmth: “You jealous monster, you deliberately lured the zombies here, sent me away, just so Liam would be unprotected, left to die a gruesome death in that horde.” “Besides, this serum? You stole his research data. Why should you be the one showered with praise?” “Die!” When I opened my eyes again, I was back. Back to the very day the zombie horde attacked. This time, she wanted to celebrate Liam’s birthday? Fine by me. Let her. … The cacophony of gunfire and screams was my awakening. I strode towards the door, pushing it open just as the Commander burst in. “Dr. Ethan, the horde’s here! Get your wife to rally the Gifted for a counterattack, fast!” I was about to speak when Mike, the logistics chief’s frantic voice cut through. “Commander, we’ve searched everywhere! All the Gifted are gone. Even the few remaining SUVs are missing!” A wave of panic rippled through most of the Compound’s residents. The Commander froze, a stunned silence falling over him. “Where are they?!” I sighed, a weary weight in my voice. “They all followed Sarah to celebrate Liam’s birthday.” “What?!” The Commander’s face contorted in disbelief. “Yesterday, we had a Compound-wide alert about the incoming horde, told the Gifted to be on high alert, and today they all went out for a birthday party?” Behind us, the few survivors left on this level overheard. Their faces twisted with raw resentment. To celebrate Liam’s birthday, they’d willingly ignored the danger pressing down on every soul in the Compound. As we spoke, the horde surged closer. Another volley of gunfire ripped through the air. People ducked, screaming, the area dissolving into chaos. The Commander stepped forward, his voice cutting through the panic. “Those with firearms, secure the main gate! Everyone else, get to the research lab’s basement. Don’t come out until you hear our all-clear!” After organizing the survivors, the Commander turned to me. “Dr. Ethan, you’re a pyro-kinetic, and you know the zombies’ weaknesses. We still have one car left at the lab. Drive it, catch up with the Gifted, and get them back here to save us!” I shook my head, a difficult truth etched on my face. “Commander, it’s not that I don’t want to go. Even if I went, Sarah and her squad wouldn’t believe a word I said.” The words hung heavy in the air, creating a suffocating silence. Ever since Liam arrived at the Compound as a researcher, Sarah’s infatuation with him had been blatant. Everyone knew we fought constantly because of Liam, that divorce papers had been drafted countless times. Just as everyone watched me, helpless, Mike, the logistics chief, stepped forward, offering a lifeline. “I’ll go! I have a gun and explosives. I can make it out there. The cure is in its final stages, Doctor, we can’t risk you!” The Commander agreed. Mike, with a desperate urgency, peeled out of the Compound through the emergency exit. The Commander organized the survivors into the basement and, taking those with weapons, joined the defense against the horde. Two hours later, Mike returned. Hopes soared, then crashed. He was alone. “Captain, what happened?” a logistics team member asked, his voice filled with dread. Mike, eyes bloodshot, crumpled to his knees. “I failed you all. I couldn’t convince the Gifted to come back! Sarah called me heartless, said I was colluding with Dr. Ethan to trick them.” “I begged them, pleaded! But they used their abilities to trap me. Said I’d get what I deserved!” He was covered in wounds, his little car a mangled wreck. God knew what he’d endured out there. Listening to his account, the survivors erupted, cursing Sarah and her squad. “What kind of Gifted Captain? She’s nothing but a faithless wretch, always wrapped around Liam, ignoring the Compound’s desperate plight!” Their indignation raged, then a thunderous crash from outside silenced them. The panicked residents didn’t know what it was. The Commander returned, his face grim, gun clutched in hand. “The Apex Zombie. It’s here. It’s directing the horde, and the main gate won’t hold much longer.” “Are we really going to die here?” A survivor’s voice broke, tears mingling with terror in their eyes. I looked at the soot-stained faces, my comm in hand. “I contacted the Alliance Military rescue team in advance, but they need time. We have to hold out!” “I’ll go find Gifted from nearby outposts. I’ll beg them for help, anything to buy us more time!” Mike’s eyes lit up. He immediately tried to rise, but after only two steps, his body swayed precariously. Everyone rushed to support him. Forcing him to sit, they saw it—not just wounds from Gifted abilities, but a massive zombie claw mark on his back. Mike managed a bitter smile. “Let me go! I’m already infected. If I can bring back help in my final hours, that’s my last value!” The logistics team turned away, unable to bear the sight. Soaked sobs broke out among the survivors. “Don’t go. I’ll do it!” I pulled a vial of pale blue liquid from my jacket. Hesitantly, I held it out to Mike. “This is the latest version of the serum. It’s been successful on animals. I don’t know if it’ll work on humans, but at this point, it’s all we’ve got.” Without waiting for anyone to object, I clambered into the rickety little car, preparing to leave. The Commander hurried over, his words urgent. “Dr. Ethan, hurry! Our ammunition will last two hours, tops!” I nodded, my jaw set. Just as I cleared the Compound’s perimeter, a vehicle sped towards me. My eyes lit up. I slammed on the brakes, waving wildly. It was Chris, captain of the Gifted squad from the next outpost over. I practically ripped the car door open, seizing his arm, my voice tight with relief. “Chris, what are you doing here?! No time to explain, get to the Compound—” He yanked his arm free, a sneer twisting his lips. “Still putting on a show, huh?” 2 I stared at him, bewildered. “What are you talking about? Didn’t you get the distress call to come rescue us?” Chris stood blocking my path, his gaze full of contempt. “You’re not trying to escape, are you?” “Early this morning, Captain Sarah found me. She told me everything, asked me to block you right here! Ethan Vance, we looked up to you! To think your ‘serum’ was just a facade, a sick joke. May you rot in hell!” I stood there, frozen, the words taking a long moment to sink in. Dying in my last life, Sarah had said similar things. She’d claimed I deliberately lured the horde to get rid of Liam, to then steal his research — the cure. My heart sank, a sudden, horrifying clarity dawning on me. Sarah had reincarnated too. That’s why Mike’s pleas had fallen on deaf ears. She’d deliberately cut off the Compound’s last lifeline. The thought of the desperate souls fighting inside overshadowed everything else. “Chris! Take your team, come back to the Compound with me! If I’m lying, you can do whatever you want to me!” “So many lives in there, I wouldn’t joke about something like this!” Chris just rolled his eyes, a derisive laugh escaping him. “Talking big now, but who knows what stunt you’re pulling? Even if the zombies did break through, Sarah and her squad would handle it easily, wouldn’t they? Don’t tell me all those Gifted couldn’t handle a few zombies?” I grabbed Chris by his collar, my voice raw with fury. “Yes! With Sarah, it’s easy! But she took everyone with her to celebrate Liam’s birthday! There are no Gifted left in the Compound! Do you know why Sarah came to you a day early?” “Because she planned for you to hold me back! She didn’t want anyone disturbing her celebration for Liam!” My face was burning red as I shrieked the words, my voice hoarse. Chris looked at me, a flicker of doubt in his eyes. “Impossible! Sarah would never abandon an entire Compound, leave her post, for personal feelings! You’re lying!” I gazed at Chris, despair washing over me. I used to trust Sarah just as blindly. We were college sweethearts, fought side by side through the apocalypse until now. In my heart, Sarah was the person I trusted most. I thought we’d face the end of the world together, but everything changed the moment Liam arrived. She’d accuse me, without rhyme or reason, of ostracizing new recruits, simply because Liam was in a bad mood. Even though Liam was the one with connections, clueless about research. She’d carve out time from her busy schedule to cook for Liam, openly favoring him in front of everyone. Even though I was her husband. A bitter ache swelled in my chest, but this wasn’t the time to dwell. I looked at Chris, only helplessness remained. If he wouldn’t help me, I’d go directly to other outposts for aid. Even a single squad would be enough for the Compound to hold on. With that thought, I scrambled back into the car, slamming the accelerator to the floor, ready to leave. But Chris, quick as a flash, maneuvered his car directly in front of mine, blocking my path. “Ethan Vance, you’re not getting away today!” Seeing Chris’s stubborn refusal, I ignored him, stomping the pedal. I’d crash right through him if I had to. Even if it killed me, I would bring back reinforcements! Chris startled, then reacted instantly, unleashing his ability to wreck my car. I screamed at him, my voice breaking. “Chris! Don’t you dare stop me from saving lives! The Compound is about to fall!” But Chris ignored my fury, steadfastly blocking my way. “I’ll go with you to the Compound! But if you’re actually lying to me—” I cut him off. “Message your team! I’m not lying!” Chris alone wasn’t enough; my Compound needed more Gifted. Chris looked at me, torn, then pulled out his comm. The next second, the distinct emergency broadcast blared. [ATTENTION! ATTENTION! Southern Outpost under severe zombie threat! All able-bodied Gifted from nearby sectors are requested to provide immediate assistance!] [All Gifted from nearby sectors are requested to provide immediate assistance!] Chris’s face drained of all color. 3 By the time Chris and I reached the Compound, it was pure pandemonium. Gunshots and screams ripped through the air, endless. Zombies roamed the labs, bits of flesh and broken bones scattered everywhere. I stared at the unrecognizable Compound, tears streaming down my face. No matter how hard I tried, I was still too late. Chris stood beside me, speechless. I watched the surging horde, my abilities flaring, pushing them back again and again. Chris snapped out of his daze, forcing himself into the fray, battling the infected. Just as my power began to wane, a zombie lunged at my side. Too slow to dodge, I enveloped myself in my pyro-kinetic shield, hoping to minimize the damage. BANG! A gunshot. The zombie’s trajectory shifted. Mike stood at the basement entrance, firing his gun, relentlessly attacking the zombies. Just then, figures of Gifted appeared outside the Compound walls. Reinforcements! My heart soared. I immediately worked with the arriving aid, pushing the zombies back. It wasn’t until the last of the dead vanished from the Compound that I collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath. The basement door creaked open, but when I saw that only a tenth of the survivors remained, the fragile smile on my face froze. Chris stood before me, guilt etched on his features. “I’m sorry! It’s my fault!” I was about to speak when Sarah’s triumphant voice cut through the air. “Well, well, well, look at all these handsome faces! Is this all a big surprise for our Liam?” As she spoke, Liam, arm slung around Sarah’s waist, strode in, followed by a grinning squad of Gifted. Sarah looked at the Compound’s devastation, then at me, her tone dripping with mockery. “Ethan Vance, is your little act over? Doesn’t feel so good when your plans fall apart, does it?” “Alright, it’s Liam’s birthday! Don’t be an eyesore, we’re going to keep celebrating!” She grew more pleased with herself with every word, utterly oblivious to the strange looks around her. She didn’t notice the subtle shift in her own squad’s expressions. Liam, meanwhile, openly wrapped his arm around Sarah, kissing her right in front of me. When they finished, he smirked, a taunt in his eyes. “My apologies, Dr. Vance. Captain Sarah lost a dare and has to be my girlfriend for the day. You don’t mind, do you?” His smug smile lasted barely two minutes before he was drenched in a torrent of foul, murky water. The survivors, eyes red-rimmed with rage, stared at Liam as he shrieked and sputtered from the sudden dousing. Pure hatred blazed in their gazes. They grabbed anything they could, pelting him. “You dog! What are you gloating about?! Does dancing on our graves taste good?!” “Beast! Why wasn’t it you who died?!” “Get out! We don’t need protection from a pair of traitors like you!” … It wasn’t until they were completely surrounded by the enraged survivors that Sarah finally realized the zombie attack had been real.

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My senior year of high school, I transferred out. I never imagined that soon after, rumors would spread like wildfire among our classmates: I was dead, a victim of leukemia. After I left, the rebellious slacker in the back row, Owen, suddenly fell silent. He shed his defiant image, studying with a ferocity no one had ever seen, eventually gaining admission to a top-tier music conservatory. Nine years later, he was a household name, a chart-topping sensation. On a live talk show, when the topic of relationships came up, a profound melancholy shadowed his face. “She’s gone now.” “If only I’d known, I wouldn’t have wished her to stay eighteen forever.” Masked, camcorder on my shoulder, I panned across his phone’s lock screen. My breath hitched. Wait. Was that… me? 1 Owen King had dominated the charts for seven years, racking up countless awards, the undisputed idol in millions of hearts. After all that time, I was seeing him again. But now, he was the reality show’s star, and I was just the camera op. This was Owen’s first reality show, and his fans were buzzing with anticipation. The moment he stepped into view, the venue erupted. A swarm of paparazzi descended. My colleague nudged me gently. “Owen’s here.” “Saw him.” He strode quickly through the guest channel, head down, pulling his baseball cap lower. Even just his silhouette sent the crowd into a frenzy of screams. I quickly powered on my camcorder, capturing his entrance. Damn, he’s still got it. Good for a quick buck from the fans. “Hey, I heard Owen graduated from Riverside High. You’re alumni, right? Do you know him?” my colleague suddenly asked. I paused. A memory flickered to life, sharp and vivid. Another twilight, so many years ago. Back then, I was still Lily Lin. Inside The Rack ‘n’ Roll, tears silently tracked down my face as I clutched my homework. “Owen, please, no more fighting. Can you just finish your assignments first?” Blood streamed from the back of Owen’s hand, his patience clearly razor-thin. “Lily, you are seriously annoying. Can’t you understand a damn word? Get lost.” … My mind snapped back to reality. I smiled, shaking my head. “He’s a huge star. How could I possibly know him?” Once artists hit it big, they usually cut ties with their old friends to avoid trouble. Owen’s reputation in high school wasn’t great. He’d definitely want nothing to do with former classmates. Especially since he used to despise me. I’d just shoot more footage of him, sell it, and move on. No need to bother him. 2 The show was an hour from starting. I sat in a corner, checking my equipment, when a voice suddenly echoed above me. “Lily?” I froze, looking up. It was Hazel. She was one of the guests on this episode, and also my college classmate. She’d been jobless last year, practically begging me for help. Our studio needed a production assistant then, so I pulled some strings to get her in. Who knew that during one shoot, she’d accidentally wander into a shot, and with her sweet looks and voice, become an overnight sensation? We hadn’t spoken since. I offered a faint smile. “What a coincidence.” She blinked, feigning surprise. “Lily, it is you! Still lugging that camera around? I thought you’d be running the show by now!” She went on, a flicker of feigned regret crossing her face. “Things really do happen for a reason, don’t they? If it had been you caught on camera back then, maybe you’d be the star. But, you know…” Her tone shifted, a faint smirk playing on her lips. “It’s fate, really. I begged you for a job back then, and you deliberately messed with me, stuck me with all the grunt work, the hardest, dirtiest jobs. Even the universe saw how unfair that was, and that’s why I blew up overnight. Lily, this is your karma.” I stayed silent, with nothing to say. She’d broken equipment at her old company and been fired, then she’d called me sobbing daily, saying she couldn’t afford food, pleading for a job, swearing she’d do anything for money. I felt for her, pulled every string I had to get her into the studio. And she thinks I was messing with her. What else could I say? Someone was approaching from not far away. 3 “Hazel!” I turned. It was Mark, my ex-boyfriend, who’d been our classmate, too. After Hazel blew up, Mark dumped me and ran off to be her assistant manager. Seeing me, he stopped short. “Lily Lin?” Hazel took the coffee from his hand. “Mark, you got it already?” “Yeah, had to hit a few blocks, but finally found it.” “You’re the best.” Hazel grinned, then turned her mocking gaze on me. “You used to complain Mark never cared for you, always so distant. What gives? He’s been so thoughtful with me.” “Oh.” Had she finished? I looked at her, slowly. “Anything else you wanted to say, Ms. Hazel? Because everything you just said? I recorded it all.” Hazel froze. “What did you say?” Her whole brand was the ‘sweet, ditzy darling,’ with a fanbase full of ‘dream boys.’ If this video got out, she was toast. “Lily Lin, delete that video!” She snapped, lunging to grab my camcorder. I clutched it tight, refusing to let go. “Ms. Hazel, this is a friend’s camcorder. I’m not sure how to delete anything.” “Don’t play dumb with me! Delete it now, or you’re gonna regret it!” She yanked desperately. Mark, seeing things escalate, rushed over to break it up. The commotion was loud enough to draw the entire crew. Our producer rushed over, demanding to know what was going on. My eyes welled up, feigning distress. “Ms. Hazel insists I filmed her and wants me to delete it, but I truly didn’t!” Hazel’s eyes widened. “Stop acting! Hand over the camcorder! Or I’ll sue you for violating my publicity rights!” The producer quickly tried to calm her, then took my camcorder and powered it on. Hazel stared in disbelief, scrolling through, searching. How could she find anything? I hadn’t even turned it on. Hazel was about to say something else. Mark, seeing the momentum turning against her, quickly pulled her away. “It’s just a misunderstanding, folks. Ms. Hazel was just worried about her look getting leaked, didn’t mean to cause any trouble.” He hurried Hazel away. I looked at the producer apologetically. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know why she’s so sensitive. I just touched the camcorder, and she started claiming I filmed her.” “I know, I know.” The producer waved a dismissive hand. “These minor celebrities are the worst. Big egos, no talent. Someone else will put her in her place soon enough. Everyone, back to your positions. Half an hour until we start.” I nodded, pulling out my mask and putting it on. I never liked my face on camera, so I always wore it on set. Just as I finished, a shout came from behind me. “Lily Lin!” I turned, seeing a production assistant, and… Owen. 4 “Owen’s regular camera op had a last-minute emergency. You’re filling in.” I stared at Owen. He wore a simple hoodie, his expression distant. As the wind stirred his bangs, the eighteen-year-old boy from my memories seemed to suddenly resurface. Why are you called Lily Lin and not, like, Big Lily? What’s up with the old man? This one-on-one tutoring? Your grades are worse than mine, who’s helping who? You’re seriously annoying. What I do or don’t learn is none of your business, is it? I’m going to sleep. Don’t wake me up for class later. LILY! … I snapped back to reality, nodding. “Got it.” I swung the camcorder onto my shoulder and hurried over. Owen paused, then extended a hand, polite and formal. “Ms. Lin, hello.” I reached out, shaking his hand. “Hello.” Our skin met. That long, elegant hand instantly became slick with moisture. Owen flinched, his hand trembling slightly, his gaze suddenly locking onto my eyes. Surprise and bewilderment swirled within them. 5 My heart gave a quiet lurch. Why… why was he looking at me like that? “Owen?” His grip was too tight. I had to speak up. He blinked, coming back to himself, then released my hand, offering an apologetic smile. “My bad. Been a little exhausted lately, got lost in thought.” So that was it. Big celebrities, jet-setting for appearances, it’s bound to be tiring. He finished, then looked at the production assistant. “Shall we go?” After his solo interview, the show began. It was a live broadcast: eight celebrity guests would draw lots to determine their roles, then hunt for a secret treasure hidden within the school. The winning team’s prize would be used to fund an adult school for individuals with autism. The moment Owen appeared, the bullet comments exploded. 【LOL Owen’s so awkward!】 【Owen never does reality shows, only charity events like this could tempt him.】 【Owen is seriously the best! He donates to leukemia patients every year since his debut and even writes songs for them. That’s an idol!】 【Isn’t it because his first love died of leukemia? This show must be for her, too. So devoted, ugh, I just want to hug him.】 【Wait, for real? Who was Owen’s first love?】 【I think a high school classmate? He mentioned it when he first debuted on his social media, but his posts are only visible for the last six months now, so you can’t see it anymore.】 In the control room, I watched the small monitor beside me, my mind drifting. His first love… a high school classmate? Died of leukemia? I racked my brain, but no one fit the description. Though, I had transferred out in my senior year. What happened after that, I wouldn’t know. Maybe he met someone special then. I looked at Owen, a hollow ache settling in my chest. In high school, he’d been cold and dismissive, caring for no one. I’d always thought no one could ever truly reach him. Turns out, someone could. But… I shook my head, a small, wry smile on my lips. I found myself curious about her. The kind of person who could tame Owen’s wild side, who he’d remember for so long, she had to be truly special. After the guest introductions, the host warmed up the audience, and the drawing of lots began. Hazel got lucky, drawing the ‘Honor Student’ card. Her privileges were high; she could access most of the school freely. Owen, though, pulled the ‘Slacker’ card, the lowest privilege. He’d have to complete a task before entering any area. Owen stared at the card in his hand, a wry, almost exasperated laugh escaping him. Back in high school, he was infamous for being either last or second-to-last in grades. This draw was pretty accurate. Good thing the competition was held at Riverside High. At least he had home-field advantage. During the Q&A, the host asked about everyone’s most unique high school memories. Hazel tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, a bittersweet smile on her face. “My high school memories aren’t great. Probably because of my looks, the other girls weren’t very friendly, so I never really had many friends. Then in college, I finally made one good friend, someone I trusted completely, but then at my lowest point, she really kicked me while I was down… Anyway, it’s all in the past now. I’ve forgiven her.” 【Ugh, I’m fuming! Hazel’s so cute, how could anyone bully her? Are those people insane?】 【I get it, I totally get it! I’m also pretty good-looking, and I could tell the girls in my class just didn’t like me. Seriously, it’s not my fault I’m pretty.】 【Hazel’s so pure! She actually forgave them, but if it were me, I’d never let anyone who backstabbed me off the hook!】 Watching from off-camera, I had to admit, I was almost impressed. Turning black into white, and doing it so vaguely, never naming names, impossible to verify – if that wasn’t a talent, what was? “Enough about me. What about you, Owen? Your school days must have been much more interesting, right?” Having achieved her goal, she wisely decided to quit while she was ahead, smoothly linking herself to Owen. Everyone collectively turned to Owen. His gaze swept over my location. A faint smile touched his lips. “That was ages ago. Can’t quite remember.” For a split second, I felt a strange disorientation. I couldn’t tell if his gaze was for the camera, or for me. 6 Half an hour later, the show cut to commercials. Everyone boarded vans headed for Riverside High. Before we got in, Mark found me. “Lily.” He seemed awkward. I didn’t bother looking at him. “Something you need? I’m busy.” The air hung heavy for a beat. He looked at me, a hint of apology in his eyes. “Have you… been okay this past year?” “What’s wrong? Afraid I’m doing too well, posing a threat to you two?” “How could you think that?” He quickly explained, his gaze filled with remorse. “What happened back then, I messed up, I really did. But I was so sick of those endless, dead-end days. I hope you can understand. I have some connections now, if you’re looking for a new job, I can help. At least you won’t have to work so hard.” I paused. He regretted it? Ran off with Hazel for money, and now that he knows she’s high-maintenance, he suddenly remembers me. I straightened up, looking at the small mole on his nose. It used to make him seem so handsome, I’d loved it almost to the point of obsession. Now… the more I looked, the more it sickened me. “No thanks. Scumbags don’t have good intentions, and even if they did, I wouldn’t touch them with a ten-foot pole.” He stiffened. He was about to speak again when a car pulled up beside us. Hazel swung the door open, her face cold, calling him over like a pet. “Mark, my feet are killing me. Come rub them.” Mark hesitated for a fraction of a second, then hurried over to her. “Coming, babe.” Hazel glanced at me. “What were you two talking about?” “Nothing much. Just warned her to behave.” “Oh, really? I thought she was trying to get back with you. You know, I still remember her crying, begging you not to leave her. Ugh, what’s the difference between her and a stray dog?” Mark flinched, then chuckled. “No, even if she wanted to, I’d never agree. She’s not even worth a strand of your hair.” “That’s more like it.” Hazel’s expression was smug. “Don’t you think she hates me now? I’m on a major reality show, and her? Nothing. She couldn’t even hold onto the man she loved.” … I didn’t hear what else they said, focusing on gathering my gear. Until someone beeped at me. “Lily, let’s go.” I murmured a reply, clutching my gear, and climbed in. Only then did I realize Owen was already inside, texting someone. Why was he in this car? My heart pounded, but I dared not ask, pretending not to see him, quietly settling into the back seat. Suddenly, my phone blared. It was Owen’s signature hit: The Sound of Falling Rain. “This rain stops here, emotions linger, what you leave behind, a long, lingering dampness…” Every head in the car swiveled. I fumbled frantically to silence it, but it was too late. Owen’s head shot up. Through the rearview mirror, his gaze locked with mine. “My bad,” I said, an awkward laugh escaping me. “Just heard it on the charts yesterday, thought it was catchy, decided to use it as my ringtone.” He paused. “But that’s from this year’s concert.” Right… I forgot. It was the live concert version. The audio quality was terrible, background noise and all. “Have you seen my concert, Ms. Lin?” he asked. Memories crashed over me like waves. But how could I admit it? It was my deepest, most guarded secret. Even after all these years, deliberately avoiding any news of him, I couldn’t resist. I’d gone to his seven-year anniversary concert. Sat in the very last row, tears streaming down my face for his success. “No,” I said. “Must’ve been uploaded by a fan online, I guess? I’m not really tech-savvy.” “Is that so?” He didn’t break eye contact. He just calmly studied my reflection in the mirror, his thoughts unreadable. A moment stretched between us. “Ms. Lin, aren’t you hot?” “Excuse me?” “Wearing a mask all the time, aren’t you hot?” he asked, his voice casual, like simple concern. I wiped sweat from my forehead. “No, I’m fine. I… have a cold, don’t want to spread it.” “…I see.” My phone grew hot in my grip. Message alerts buzzed one after another. He glanced at them, replying calmly, yet unable to control the tremor in his fingertips. I lowered my eyes, quickly changing my ringtone. Once done, I snuck a glance at the front. Seeing him preoccupied with his messages, I let out a silent breath of relief. Close call. Almost blew it. 7 The car started moving. In the gentle sway, I drifted into a short dream. I was back in that classroom, last row again. Our homeroom teacher had set up a tutoring group, one-on-one. And I, second to last, was assigned to tutor Owen, who was dead last. Back then, Owen was the resident rebel, avoided by everyone. His days were split between sleeping and stirring up trouble. As the group leader, I’d tried every trick in the book to whip him into shape, but he only ever made me cry with frustration. A month later, midterm results were out. He was second to last. I was dead last. I cried so hard that day. Owen was sick of me. Just to get some peace, he ditched class with me and took me for some street food. “Just eat, relax. You’re dead last, nowhere to go but up, right?” “Me? I don’t care. Learning or not, it’s all the same. My old man only cares about his other kid anyway.” “Alright, drop it. Music conservatory? That old guitar? I haven’t touched it in ages!” “La la la, I can’t hear you!” “LILY! What I learn or don’t learn is none of your business! I regret buying you that food, now spit it out—” … Owen always asked why I was so set on him studying. He’d never know. How, long ago, I’d seen another side of him. Brilliant, playing his own songs, full of youthful vigor and fire. I wanted that Owen to wake up. What a shame, what a waste. 8 Ten minutes later, the car pulled up to our destination. I’d slept the entire ride, oblivious to Owen watching me the whole way. The live broadcast resumed. Everyone else entered the school through the main gates. Except Owen. As the ‘Slacker,’ even entering the school required a challenge. Solve a riddle, or do fifty push-ups. Pick one. The comments section collectively melted for Owen. 【Go for the riddle, push-ups will drain too much energy for the rest of the game. But riddles take forever! Owen’s fit, he should just do the push-ups!】 The camera zoomed in on Owen. It seemed like a crucial decision. But Owen… chose neither. He surveyed his surroundings, then scaled the school’s side wall. “Slackers gotta find slacker ways, right?” On camera, he sat perched on the wall, wild and unbridled, just like he’d been all those years ago. He looked at me, his eyes flashing. “Give me your hand,” he said. As his camera op, I felt I had no choice. The moment our hands clasped tightly… “Ms. Lin, you remind me of someone.” I looked up, confused. “What?” He looked at me, a gentle, old breeze sweeping through his eyes. “Nothing. Just a feeling that today might be very lucky.” ? What was he on about? My body felt weightless. He’d pulled me up beside him. The directors were stumped. It took a while for the security guard NPCs to catch up. We jumped down, ducking into the janitor’s closet, waiting in the cramped space for what felt like an eternity. The NPCs finally wandered off. I let out a soft sigh of relief. I turned my head and found Owen staring at me, as if deep in thought. In the dim light, we were so close I could almost hear the frantic beating of our own hearts. I swallowed. “…Owen? Is something wrong?” He offered a quiet smile, then reached out. From the cabinet above my head, he plucked the hidden treasure. “See, Ms. Lin? I told you today would be lucky.” The bullet comments went wild. 【OMG, HELP, why is this so flirty?!】 【Dying laughing, Owen’s a newbie to reality TV, has no idea he’s practically flirting with the camera op!】 【I’m low-key shipping them now, is that wrong?】

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I flew back to the States only to find my sister, a rising star, being bullied on a reality show. The culprits? My uncle’s mistress and my ex-boyfriend. The whole internet had branded my sister a desperate gold-digger, and the object of her alleged obsession was an ex I’d grown bored of after just two months. Brooke, the mistress, flaunted a lavish, self-made persona, bankrolled by my family’s money. Meanwhile, my sister, Mia, was ridiculed for showing off a handmade barrette I’d crafted for her as a child, accused of buying cheap knock-offs. Learning all this, I made a snap decision, pouring a significant investment into the show. I was going to walk right onto that set and stand by my sister. The moment Mia and I revealed our true identities, those who’d tormented her stumbled and fell, scrambling to save face. My ex, especially, tried to worm his way back into my life, proposing a reconciliation. I simply offered him a cold, mocking smile. “You, Riley? You were nothing more than a minor plot point in a game my fiancé and I played. There was never any ‘dating,’ so what exactly are we ‘reconciling’?” 1 The day I landed back in the States, my butler was already there, phone in hand, showing me a live stream. It was Heartstrings Unscripted, America’s hottest reality dating show, boasting astronomical viewership thanks to its live format. And my sister, Mia, was one of its featured cast members. On screen, Mia sat hunched in a corner, eyes rimmed with red, clearly nursing a raw wound. The frantic scroll of comments flying across the screen quickly filled in the blanks. Mia, following the show’s format, was paired with Riley Hayes, a popular up-and-coming actor, for a three-day challenge. But Riley was openly flirting with Brooke Vance, a former actress who’d recently reignited her career. He’d even declared his preference for Brooke, telling Mia to “know her place.” Normally, this wouldn’t be a catastrophe. But Riley consistently teamed up with Brooke, leaving Mia high and dry. When Mia, desperate to complete a task so she wouldn’t starve, approached Riley for help, Brooke had chimed in with a saccharine-laced jab. “Mia, sweetie, you seem really fond of Riley. Little girls are just so clingy, aren’t they? Riley, why don’t you go with her?” Riley was quick to jump in, “She only picked me as her partner because she won the last game. I never said I’d actually cooperate.” The chat instantly erupted with praise for Riley: “What a stand-up guy!” “So honorable!” Fans gushed over Riley and Brooke’s undeniable chemistry. Meanwhile, my sister, who’d worked tirelessly to win that game, was slammed as a desperate clinger, accused of trying to ride Riley’s coattails. Seeing this, I couldn’t help but let out a cold snort. Riley, “honorable”? Even he wouldn’t dare utter such a lie. I immediately had my assistant contact the show’s director, instructing them to add a new segment. I was buying my way in. Within minutes, I received a confirmation: I’d join as a “special guest,” a family member. “Ms. Hayes,” my assistant cautioned, “going on the show yourself might invite some backlash.” After all, the internet rarely looks kindly upon those who buy their way onto a set. “No matter,” I replied, unconcerned. “I’m not in this for the money.” I quickly changed into a fresh outfit and headed straight for the live set. Someone needed to make it crystal clear that my sister wasn’t some random nobody anyone could push around. By the time I arrived, Mia had already retreated to her room, crying. I glanced at the live chat; the insults were still piling up. 【Mia’s so dramatic. The show never said Riley had to cooperate just because she picked him, right?】 【Cry when you don’t get your way? That’s her only move?】 【Can this Mia just leave? I only want to see Riley and Brooke’s sweet romance.】 The director quickly introduced me to the audience, and then I stepped into frame. “No way? Both sisters trying to milk this for clout?” “Is the show really coddling Mia? They’re calling her sister in because she’s upset?” Ignoring the rapidly scrolling comments, I walked directly to Mia’s door and knocked. Just then, Riley emerged from his own room, freezing at the sight of me. “You… you’re…?” He was clearly stunned by my presence, yet he tried to feign ignorance, as if we’d never met. I swept my gaze over him, a slow, dismissive appraisal, then curled my lips into a knowing smile. “Well, well. Looks like you’ve certainly upgraded since I last saw you.” “What are you talking about? Do I know you?” A flicker of panic, quick as lightning, darted through Riley’s eyes. I simply raised a brow, the smile lingering, and said nothing more. Of course, he’d panic at the sight of me. Years ago, before he’d even broken into the industry, I’d… well, I’d kept him for two months. Only two months, mind you. He was too childish. I was paying for his upkeep, and he wouldn’t even pour me a glass of water. If I hadn’t been so swamped with work, I would have kicked him out much sooner. “Blair! When did you get back? I missed you so much!” Before I could reply to Riley, the door swung open, and Mia launched herself into my arms. She clung to me, trembling like a wounded fawn. I spared a brief glance at Riley, a silent warning in my gaze. But the internet, predictably, twisted it. 【OMG, both sisters like the same guy? This Blair isn’t any better.】 2 Mia and I retreated into her room. She didn’t mention the bullying, only asking why I was on the show. When I told her I was a guest, her eyes widened in surprise. Given the live stream, she didn’t press further. Just then, Riley and Brooke knocked. “Mia, sweetie, I convinced Riley to come do the task with you! I won a challenge today, so I can use my own money to treat us to dinner. You and your sister should come along!” My sister, bless her heart, was so naive, so sheltered. Brooke was clearly trying to subtly flaunt her “generosity” and “influence,” but Mia, beaming, simply said, “Oh, thank you, Brooke! I’ve been starving all day!” Predictably, Mia was slammed again. 【She’s got some nerve. Brooke won that prize fair and square, just being polite, and Mia’s actually going?】 【Never seen anyone so shameless. Can she please not bring her sister along to be a third wheel?】 【‘Starved all day’? More like she just didn’t try to do the tasks.】 Mia tugged me out, but as we approached the car, Brooke feigned a look of embarrassment. “The show only assigned a four-seater car… and there are five of us.” I scrolled through the comments on my phone, noting how everyone was praising Brooke’s beauty and kindness. I raised a brow and quietly put my phone away. “If I’m not mistaken,” I said, my gaze resting on Brooke, “this car was Mia’s reward for completing a task.” Brooke’s smile faltered slightly. “Yes… yes, it was. But I’m inviting you to dinner, right? You wouldn’t really make me walk, would you? It’s fine, really, I can just walk.” She was playing the victim, using reverse psychology. I could already picture the vitriol that would flood the chat. Mia started to speak, but I shot Brooke a friendly smile. “You misunderstand. I simply meant, we can’t let you treat us for nothing. I’ll drive.” With that, I opened the back passenger door and gestured. “The show’s partners should sit together. You two hop in. Mia can ride shotgun.” Brooke was officially partnered with another actor, Jake Miller, on the show. By bringing Jake into the equation, I made it impossible for her to publicly switch him out for Riley. She could only manage an awkward laugh and climb in. Everyone settled, leaving Riley no seat. He looked frantic. “I’m Mia’s partner too! I can drive!” He reached for the car keys in my hand. I leaned against the driver’s side door, watching him with a knowing smile. “My sister chose you, but you were forced. Let’s not force anything, then. Everyone will be happier.” I threw Riley’s own words back at him, and his face instantly darkened. Then, the back window lowered, and Brooke leaned out. “Mia’s sister, I only managed to finish my task because Riley helped me. Wouldn’t it be rude to go to dinner without him?” I caught Brooke’s eye, a silent jab, implying I was planning to freeload. I crossed my arms, speaking slowly. “Then you two can get out. Mia and I will handle our own dinner.” Brooke, hearing this, suddenly lost her temper. She flung open the car door. “Fine, we’ll get out! Anyway, the show told me to use my own money today!” She stepped out, then turned to Mia. “Mia, you better think this through. You still haven’t finished your task. You have a car, but you won’t eat. I can pay for my own meal.” “What exactly are you trying to say?” I asked, my voice still sweet, but my eyes fixed on Brooke. “Are you threatening my sister to abandon her own flesh and blood? Or just bragging that my sister’s assigned partner helped you complete your task, leaving her to starve?” I kept my smile, laying bare every trap in her words. “That’s not what I meant at all!” Brooke stammered, quickly backtracking. I chuckled softly. “Of course not. I’m sure you wouldn’t. Since you can spend money, why don’t you just call a cab and head to dinner?” With that, I opened the driver’s door and slid inside, turning to look at Jake, who was still in the back seat. “If you don’t want to be a third wheel, I don’t mind having one more person join us.” 3 Jake was an industry veteran, well aware of the game. Brooke and Riley were milking their “romance” for publicity, Mia was the sacrificial lamb, and he was just a prop. “I’d appreciate that, Blair.” So, Jake didn’t move. He, too, saw no appeal in being a pointless third wheel. 【So, she’s breaking up the TV couple?】 【Good! Brooke and Riley are so much better together.】 【LOL, Blair tried to show off for Riley and totally crashed and burned.】 【Riley’s Mia’s partner. Brooke got help from him to finish her task, then turned around and mocked Mia for not finishing hers. That’s pretty messed up.】 【You don’t get it! This is all staged by the show for drama! Jake’s such a softy. Why give the Hayes sisters a pass? He should have just gotten out.】 I was about to start the car when Brooke tapped on the window. “Something wrong?” I lowered it. Brooke put on a friendly facade. “The show rules state we can’t use our own money. Even as a new guest, you have to follow the rules.” “I know,” I replied, nodding. “But if you want to eat something, I can pay for you.” I looked at Brooke, knowing she was trying to score points with the audience. “Thanks, but no thanks. I’m worried I might max out your card.” 【Blair is so ungrateful.】 【This woman is pure trash. Brooke is being so kind, and she’s just throwing shade.】 【These two Hayes sisters are something else. One’s a crybaby faker, the other’s a pretentious schemer.】 “Blair… you, you shouldn’t say that.” Mia tugged at my sleeve, trying to remind me we were on a live stream. I rolled up the window and started the car. “I’m just telling the truth, Mia. I’m genuinely thinking of her finances.” The online backlash raged throughout the drive. It wasn’t until I pulled up to The Obsidian Room, the nation’s largest and most exclusive restaurant chain, that the commentators had to admit one thing: the “max out your card” line might have been true. “Are you sure we’re eating here?” Jake asked, breaking the silence that had settled in the car. “Absolutely,” I confirmed. “Where else would we go?” “The production team won’t pay for this,” Jake warned again. I nodded. “I don’t expect them to. They couldn’t afford it anyway.” This place was one of the top restaurants in the country, even internationally. Breathing inside felt expensive. After all, the entrance fee alone was ten thousand dollars per person. The hostess approached, asking if we had a reservation. Mia, unfazed, simply clung to my arm, looking around with wide-eyed curiosity. Jake, trailing behind, looked increasingly anxious, probably regretting his decision. “Should’ve stayed in the car,” I could almost hear him mutter. The production crew, too, were sweating. They knew an investor had forced me onto the show, but they had no idea I was the investor. They were probably racking their brains trying to figure out how to bill me for the meal later. I produced a small card. The hostess’s eyes widened as she quickly scanned it. She immediately bowed, her voice dripping with warmth. “Ms. Hayes, right this way.” 【OMG! She actually got in?!】 【What card did she just use? A black card? If it’s a black card, that still counts as using her own money!】 【The penthouse suite! That’s an impossible reservation to get!】 【Is this sister actually a rich heiress?】 “What was that card? How did we just walk in? Three of us, plus three camera operators… ten grand each, you seriously…?” Jake looked at me with genuine concern. I nudged my chin at the card I’d just shown, which was now back in my hand. “Just a business card. Sometimes, knowing the right people works better than flashing a credit card.” 4 I didn’t just bring the camera crew inside; I even arranged a private room for the rest of the production staff. “Blair,” Mia said, glancing at her phone, “Brooke just texted, asking where we are. She wants to pay for us.” I chuckled. “Text her the address. Whether they come is their problem.” Jake looked at the table laden with exquisite dishes, giving me a thumbs-up from across the table. “Seriously rich.” This meal alone would easily run into six figures. I simply raised a brow, a knowing smile playing on my lips. Being rich was my least remarkable quality, and yet, it was undeniably the most practical. Soon, Brooke and Riley arrived, but it wasn’t them who first entered our private room. It was the restaurant manager. “Ms. Hayes, there are two individuals at the entrance claiming to be with your party.” I took a slow sip of my exorbitantly priced nutrient smoothie. “Ah, yes. They’re here to pay for me.” The manager scrutinized my expression, then immediately understood. “Understood. I’ll arrange it immediately.” Brooke and Riley never made it to our table. They waited by the entrance until we finished our meal. “Did you… did you use your own money?” Brooke pressed, her voice laced with an urgent curiosity. When they’d tried to enter the restaurant, the entrance fee alone had been twenty thousand dollars for the two of them. It felt like highway robbery. “Nope.” I waited for the valet to bring my car around. Brooke, unconvinced, followed me, pushing further. “You didn’t use your own money? Did the production team pay for you? Your meal was so expensive, even if the show is good for covering expenses, the place you chose was just… too much.” “Was it expensive?” I countered. Brooke pondered for a moment. “I know you wanted to experience something lavish, but the production team has a budget. What you did was a bit inappropriate. Maybe you should sign an IOU with the show? They’re so understanding, you can pay them back slowly.” “Brooke,” Jake interjected, sensing the need to protect his nominal partner, “Blair didn’t pay for the meal.” He, too, saw an opportunity to earn some goodwill from the audience. I understood his motive and didn’t mind giving him a little boost. Brooke froze. “Didn’t pay? What do you mean? Did you just… dine and dash?” Jake didn’t know how to explain. The meal had made it clear to him that my identity was far from ordinary. So, faced with Brooke’s relentless questioning, he simply fell silent. “Ms. Hayes, our owner just called specifically to prepare a gift for you.” The restaurant manager hurried out, carrying a selection of jewelry and a set of car keys. “How terribly gauche,” I muttered, taking the items and tossing them to Mia. I didn’t bother to explain further, simply got into my car and drove off. Mia held up the jewelry, comparing each piece to her ears. “Blair, these earrings are beautiful!” Her eyes sparkled. “Good,” I replied. “When we get back, run my bath. I need to soak.” “No problem, Blair! With me here, you can just relax.” She promptly put the earrings on herself. Back at the filming location, after my bath in Mia’s room, she told me everyone was gathering downstairs. I emerged, still wearing a face mask. “Tomorrow, each pair of partners will choose one person to take the other home for dinner. You can meet family or friends.” The director had barely finished speaking when Riley suddenly stood up. “Director, I’d like to switch partners.” Riley’s announcement stunned everyone. Brooke, in particular, looked flushed with shy pleasure, clearly flattered that Riley would openly defy the show for her. Only I watched Riley with an amused, knowing glint in my eyes. “You want to switch partners, Riley? Is it because you don’t want to go to my house, or are you worried about Mia coming to yours?” “Then again, if I were you, I’d be scared too.”

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