Author: Momo Chan

Alex and I had been childhood sweethearts for ten years. But because of a stupid mistake he made in the lab, a chemical mixture exploded. To save him, I threw myself in front of him. The blast left massive, horrific burn scars all over my neck and shoulder. Those hideous scars made me insecure and terrified of socializing. For years, I wrapped myself up in thick, high-collared clothes, hiding from the world. Alex repented over and over again. He showered me with guilty love, slowly coaxing me out of my shell. Under the sparkling lights of the Eiffel Tower, he gave me a romantic wedding of the century. He cried as he kissed my scar, promising me, “Kate, I swear to God, I will never let you suffer another day in your life.” But four years into our marriage, his love turned into disgust. He told me, “I wish you hadn’t saved me back then. At least I wouldn’t have been forced to marry you out of sheer guilt.” Later, I saw the flirty Snapchat messages on his phone that he hadn’t had time to delete. That was the moment I knew this marriage was over. It was time for me to finally start loving myself.

Ever since a dinner with our old classmate Pete, Alex had become obsessed. All he could think about was getting promoted, making tons of cash, and proving himself. “If I hadn’t given up my funded lab spot at MIT to Pete back then, he would never have landed that high-paying job at Apple,” Alex would snap. “I was better than him in every single class. I’m going to prove that even without a master’s degree, I can still run circles around him.” So, he started working himself to the bone. He spent every night at client dinners and late-night happy hours, trying to climb the corporate ladder. One morning, at 1:30 AM, the front door finally clicked open. The heavy stench of alcohol immediately filled the living room. He stumbled in, his eyes completely bloodshot and out of focus. I rushed over to support him, guiding him to the couch, and handed him the warm milk I had prepared. “Why did you drink so much again? You’re going to ruin your stomach.” He frowned deeply, pushing my hand away. “Do you think I drink for fun? I’m doing this to bring home money!” “If I don’t drink with the bosses, how am I supposed to get noticed? How do I get promoted? How do I close deals?” Impatience flashed in his eyes. I didn’t know when it started, but he had become so easily annoyed with me. Even when I was just trying to care for him. Still, knowing how stressed he was at work lately, I swallowed my hurt and coaxed him gently. “Just drink some milk first. It’ll make your stomach feel better.” “Can you just get off my back for once?!” He shoved me away in frustration. The glass slipped from my hand, shattering on the hardwood floor. Warm milk and broken glass splattered everywhere. He froze, looking slightly guilty. “I… I didn’t mean to.” Looking at the dark circles under his eyes, I let out a soft sigh. “I’ll clean it up. Go take a shower.” He didn’t say a word. He just turned and walked into the bathroom. Soon, the sound of running water started. I carefully picked up the broken glass and grabbed his coat from the couch to take it to the laundry room. But as I reached into his pocket, my fingers brushed against a crumpled napkin. I pulled it out. It was smeared with red lipstick. My mind went completely blank. Right then, his phone buzzed on the counter. I automatically picked it up. A notification popped up on the screen. SnapChat from Marta: You forgot to hug me goodbye today. You owe me one next time. The blank space in my mind suddenly felt like a freezing void. I tried to unlock the phone, only to realize he had changed his password. “Kate! What the hell are you doing?!” Alex rushed out of the bathroom, soaking wet. He snatched the phone out of my hand, his face a mix of panic and rage. “Why are you snooping through my phone?!” He had never kept secrets from me before. His passcode had always been our wedding anniversary. When did he change it? I looked up, trying my best to keep my voice from shaking. “Who is Marta?”

Guilt, panic, and anger flashed through his eyes before settling into defensive rage. “She’s just an assistant to one of my clients! She has a crush on me, okay? But since she works for a client, I can’t just brutally reject her.” “Can you stop being so paranoid? I have to play nice at these dinners. I’m doing all of this for us!” I took a deep breath, trying to force myself to believe his lies. But a woman who leaves lipstick-stained napkins in his pocket… was she really just an assistant? “Then explain the lipstick napkin in your pocket.” He followed my gaze and saw the napkin in my hand. His face turned incredibly pale. “She… she couldn’t find a trash can, and her dress didn’t have pockets. So I just held onto it for her.” It was the most pathetic excuse I had ever heard. But I didn’t have the energy to argue. “Our college reunion is the day after tomorrow,” I said quietly. “Are we still going?” We had graduated from the same university. Afterward, thanks to my advisor’s recommendation, I got a research assistant job at a biotech firm. Alex, however, went into sales and marketing because he thought it was a faster way to make money. He hesitated for a second, then gritted his teeth. “Yes, we’re going.” “Who knows? Maybe I can turn some old classmates into clients.” At the reunion, we ran into a lot of familiar faces. Everyone was laughing and reminiscing about the old days. “Alex was literally the top student in our major. All the professors loved him.” “Right? Back then, we all thought Alex would be running a hedge fund on Wall Street by now.” “Speaking of which, Alex, where are you working these days?” The smile on Alex’s face froze. “Skyline Technologies.” The classmate looked confused. “Skyline? Never heard of it. What do they do?” Alex’s expression darkened with embarrassment. Another classmate saw how awkward things were getting and quickly intervened. “Hey, it’s the weekend! No work talk. Let’s eat!” For the rest of the night, Alex sat in silence, staring at his plate. As we were leaving, Pete walked up and slipped a business card into Alex’s hand. “Alex, I know how capable you are. If you ever want a referral at Apple, let me know. I can get you an interview.” Alex coldly pushed the card back. “I’m not that desperate yet.” The truth was, with the recent tech downturn, Alex’s company was struggling and rumors of layoffs were everywhere. But his pride wouldn’t let him bow his head to the guy he used to beat in school. Pete sighed and took the card back. On the Uber ride home, Alex stared out the window, his jaw clenched tightly. “It’s okay,” I whispered, trying to comfort him. “Once the economy gets better, you’ll find a much better opportunity.” “At least you still have me. And my manager, Jennifer, said I have a really good chance of getting promoted in the next review.” “Enough!” He suddenly snapped, raising his voice so loud that the driver glanced at us in the rearview mirror. “What is your problem, Kate?! Are you mocking me?!” “So what if you make a little more money than me right now? I’m going to make it big sooner or later! I won’t always be a loser compared to you!” “And let’s not forget, you only got that cozy job because your professor handed it to you on a silver platter. At least I got mine on my own merit!” I stared at him, completely shocked. I had no idea he harbored so much resentment. I didn’t know he viewed me—and our entire marriage—this way. “I never meant it like that…” Suddenly, his phone screen lit up. Marta’s Snapchat bitmoji flashed. Alex quickly tapped out a reply, his tense shoulders relaxing just a fraction. Then, he looked up at me, cold as ice. “Whether you meant it or not, you know the truth in your heart.” With that, he barked at the driver to pull over. He got out of the car and slammed the door, leaving me alone in the backseat. He didn’t say where he was going. He didn’t say when he’d be back. I stared at the empty seat beside me, feeling completely hollow. The driver looked back at me, his voice gentle and sympathetic. “Are we still going to your address, ma’am?” I blinked back my tears and found my voice. “Yes. Please.”

He came home extremely late that night. I didn’t ask him any questions, and he didn’t start another fight. We acted like it was just a minor, insignificant disagreement. But both of us knew that this argument was like a thorn, buried deep inside our hearts. A few days later, while doing the laundry, I found a flyer for an MBA program in his coat pocket. “Are you thinking about going back to school?” I asked casually. He snatched the flyer from my hand, his face flushing with embarrassment, and ripped it to shreds before throwing it in the trash. “It was just trash some street recruiter handed me.” “If you want to get your master’s, I’ll support you,” I said gently. Like a dog whose tail had been stepped on, he yelled, “It’s just a stupid piece of paper! I don’t need it!” After that, we couldn’t even have a normal conversation. It was either sharp sarcasm or icy silence. He continued to come home late, sometimes smelling faintly of expensive women’s perfume. His phone never left his hand. Sometimes, he would stare at it and smile so warmly—a smile he hadn’t given me in years. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. Catching him smiling at his phone again, I asked point-blank, “Are you seeing someone else?” His smile vanished, twisting into an ugly scowl. “Kate, are you insane?!” “Just because I’ve been busy for a few days, you think I’m cheating on you?!” His eyes swept over my clothes, and his anger flared even hotter. “And what’s with you wearing that scoop-neck top today? Are you doing this on purpose?” “You’re just trying to remind me of those ugly scars on your neck, aren’t you? Trying to guilt-trip me into staying, reminding me that I ‘owe’ you my life!” “Kate, I gave up a career in New York just to stay in this dead-end town with you. My entire future was ruined because of you! What more do you want?!” “If I knew you’d turn into this, I wish that lab explosion had just killed you back then!” The words echoed in the quiet living room. We both froze. Even Alex realized he had gone too far. He panicked, grabbed his car keys, and stormed out, slamming the door so hard the walls rattled. I shivered. I didn’t know if I was shaking from the loud noise, or from the absolute ice that had just settled into my chest. My scars were hideous. They stretched from my neck, down my shoulder, and covered my entire upper arm. They were bumpy, red, and twisted. During our senior year of college, I was helping Alex with his graduation project in the chemistry lab. But he rushed the procedure, causing a highly volatile chemical reaction to explode. In that split second, I saw him freeze in terror. Without thinking, I threw my weight into him, shoving him out of the blast zone. My own upper body took the brunt of the fire. That was how I got these terrifying scars. For a twenty-two-year-old girl, it was the end of the world. It meant enduring whispered comments, stares on the street, and the fear of never being loved. I used to cry myself to sleep every single night in the hospital. While I was recovering, Alex received a prestigious fellowship offer in New York. But he turned it down. He told me he wanted to stay and take care of me. He said he couldn’t leave me alone, and the moment I was discharged, he proposed. “Meeting you is the best thing that ever happened to me,” he had whispered. I believed him. I thought his love was pure. I never could have guessed that four years later, I would hear his real thoughts. All this time, he felt trapped. He saw me as a parasite demanding payback, the villain who ruined his bright future. Our entire marriage was built on a foundation of guilt and resentment. Slowly, I reached up and ran my fingers over the rough, uneven skin of my shoulder. Because of the summer heat, I had simply worn a comfortable tank top at home. I wasn’t trying to guilt-trip him. I had just forgotten to hide my scars. And it had disgusted him.

Alex texted me saying we both needed some “space.” Kate: Where are you staying if you’re not coming home? Alex: None of your business. Our chat history ended on that freezing note. I didn’t text him again. I didn’t ask where he was. Until his birthday. I dialed his number. “What?” he answered, his voice impatient. I swallowed my pride and kept my voice soft. “It’s your birthday. Come home for dinner.” He quieted down for a long moment. “Fine. I’ll be there.” We had made a pact when we first started dating: no matter what, we would always spend our birthdays together. But by 9:00 PM, the seat across from me was still empty. The food had gone completely cold. I called him again. “When are you coming home?” The background of the call was incredibly loud. Music was blasting, and then, I heard a girl’s sweet, giggling voice. “Alex! Come on, hurry up and blow out the candles!” My eyes slowly drifted to the beautiful cake sitting on our dining table. The box wasn’t even opened yet. The candles were still sealed in plastic. Alex covered the phone’s microphone, and the noise grew slightly fainter as he walked away. “I’ll be home soon. Stop calling me, I’m busy!” He hung up. I slowly set my phone down. My gaze landed on the drawer beside the door. Inside lay the divorce papers I had drafted days ago. At 11:00 PM, the door finally opened. Alex walked in looking slightly guilty. He tried to offer a peace offering. “My coworkers insisted on throwing me a party. You know how it is, I have to network if I want to survive in that place. I couldn’t say no.” I smiled, a tiny, empty smile. “Okay.” Seeing that I wasn’t going to yell, he let out a huge sigh of relief. He eagerly opened the cake box and started placing the candles on it. Through the flickering candlelight, Alex looked at me with a soft smile. “Kate, sing me Happy Birthday?” I stared at the faint smudge of pink lipstick on the inner collar of his shirt. My smile vanished completely. “Alex, as of today, we’ve been together for six years.” “Yeah? What about it?” As the candles began to melt, his familiar impatience started to creep back in. But I was done. “Let’s get a divorce.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “457598”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

I woke up in a hospital bed with amnesia. I remembered everyone—except Ethan Hayes, the man I’d desperately chased for five years. But Ethan was never good to me. All his tenderness belonged to his first love, his ultimate obsession. Even when I tumbled down the stairs and knocked myself unconscious, his only concern was whether she had gotten a scratch. Everyone used to say I loved Ethan so much that I threw my dignity into the dirt. What a joke. Now, I don’t even remember who Ethan Hayes is. If he wants to be cold and distant, fine. I’m done chasing him. But later, Ethan grabbed my arm so tight his knuckles turned white. With bloodshot eyes, he begged me: “Chlo, please. I beg you to remember. Once you remember, you can love me again.” “Chlo, are you seriously faking this? Or is this just your new tactic to get Ethan’s attention?” Harper tilted her head, utterly confused. She couldn’t understand why I remembered everyone else but forgot Ethan Hayes, the man I used to love more than life itself. But hearing that name now, my mind was a complete blank. I blinked blankly and asked, “Who… is Ethan?” Harper was completely stunned. She quickly grabbed my phone from the nightstand and thrust it into my hands. “Ethan Hayes!” “Look! Your lock screen is a photo of him, and your password is his birthday. Ever since you fell head over heels for him at a gala five years ago, you’ve been obsessed. You chased him like crazy for five whole years.” “You even gave up your dream admission to the Parsons School of Design just to work a grueling corporate finance job at his company!” Harper spoke with intense passion, but as my eyes fell on the photo on the screen, I felt nothing. No butterfly in my stomach. No warmth. Just complete detachment. “So, did we get together?” My question made Harper choke on her words. She shook her head, looking at me with pity. “No. Ethan… he actually disliked you a lot.” “He has this first love, Veronica, whom he could never forget. You fell down the stairs because you got into a fight with her right after she came back to the country. Ethan lost his temper and pushed you. It was an accident, but still…” As Harper spoke, a strange, residual muscle memory flared up in my body. My nose stung, and a dull, aching pain throbbed in my chest. I looked down at the man on my lock screen. It was clearly a candid photo. The way he looked at the camera was filled with annoyance and disgust. It made me want to cry for the girl I used to be. I took a deep breath, swiped my phone, and changed both the lock screen and the password. “Chlo, what are you…” “Since five years of chasing got me nothing, maybe forgetting is a blessing for both of us. I won’t have to suffer anymore, and he can finally be free.” I patted Harper’s hand to reassure her. Then, I deleted every single trace of Ethan Hayes from my phone, including his contact info. Harper sniffled, suddenly throwing her arms around me. “Good! You should’ve done this a long time ago!” “He’s not the only guy in the world. You’re beautiful and kind, Chlo. You can have anyone you want! Why the hell did you suffer in that toxic finance department, working overnight every day? Ethan has terrible taste anyway, choosing to love that fake green tea b”tch, Veronica!” Harper got more worked up by the second, ready to curse Ethan for another three hundred rounds. Just then, a nurse knocked on the door and called her out. “Chlo, hang out for a bit. I’ll be right back.” I smiled and nodded, picking up a fashion design magazine to pass the time. I was completely absorbed in it when— “Knock, knock.” The ward door was pushed open. I looked up. “Mr. Hayes?”

Ethan Hayes frowned when he heard my formal, cold greeting. He looked at me with deep suspicion and guardedness, clearly thinking this was another one of my games. He kept his chin high, his posture arrogant. “The stairs incident… I admit I have some responsibility. I’m here to apologize.” “I’ve already wired ten million dollars to your account. If you have any other demands, as long as they aren’t ridiculous, I can meet them. But if you’re trying to use this accident to force me to be with you, let me tell you right now, that is absolutely im—” I put down the magazine, sat up, and cut him off. “Mr. Hayes, that won’t be necessary.” “You’re Harper’s uncle, and what happened was just an accident. You’ve paid the compensation, and you’ve delivered your apology. Let’s just call it even.” Ethan stared at me, his eyes widening slightly. It was as if he thought I had lost my mind. He had come here prepared for me to cry, scream, and hold onto his coat. And now I was just… letting it go? “If you don’t have any other demands, I’m leaving.” I nodded, offering him a polite, professional smile. “Thank you for visiting, Mr. Hayes. Have a safe trip back.” Ethan purposely slowed his steps. Right before he stepped out of the ward, he finally heard my voice. “Wait, Mr. Hayes.” The tight frown on Ethan’s face instantly relaxed. When he turned back, his expression was already replaced by his usual impatience. “Chloe, I knew you couldn’t resist! Tell me, what do you want?” I tilted my head, looking completely puzzled by his sudden outburst of anger. “I’m sorry, but could you please close the door on your way out?” Ethan choked on his breath, his face turning red and then pale. He never expected that the only reason I called him back was to ask him to shut the door. It was as if he was humiliated by the realization that he was actually “expecting” me to ask him for something. Ethan slammed the door shut with a deafening bang. “Ethan? You came to see Chlo too? The doctor said she’s recovering well, but her mem—” Before Harper could finish her sentence, Ethan gave her a cold, dismissive glance and swept past her. Harper rolled her eyes, pushed the door open, and walked in. She complained to me, “Thank God you don’t like him anymore. What an arrogant prick!” “Did he bully you just now? He hasn’t given you a single good look in five years. He even dumped you in the most brutal investment department to make things hard for you. I was so sick of his behavior.” Since we were on the topic, I took the opportunity to say, “I want to resign.” “To be honest, since I woke up, I’ve looked over my current job, and I really don’t like it. I probably only did it because of Ethan. But now, I want to chase my own dream.” I waved the fashion magazine in my hand toward Harper. “The Royal College of Art.” “My application was accepted. In two weeks, I’m moving to London.” Harper froze, clearly shocked by my sudden decision. “So sudden? Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” I offered a bitter smile, not wanting to hide anything from her. “I just decided. When I saw him earlier, my heart still ached for some reason. But I can see he doesn’t love me at all. His voice was filled with disgust, and his face was so cold.” Harper quickly tried to comfort me. “No, Ethan actually cares about you. Don’t make a rash decision!” “Otherwise, he wouldn’t have rushed over to see you. Back then, all those finance study materials I gave you? He actually compiled them for you himself. And last time…” I shook my head, my eyes calm and clear. “Harper, it doesn’t matter. I don’t love him anymore.” Harper was stunned into silence. Yes. The Chloe who loved Ethan Hayes to death had already died when he pushed her down those stairs. But the day before my discharge, an unexpected guest arrived in my ward, wearing a sweet, gentle smile. I recognized her from Harper’s description. Ethan’s first love, Veronica. “I heard you have amnesia?”

I was a bit taken aback. Because of Ethan, my relationship with Veronica was bound to be terrible. I didn’t expect her to visit me. Seeing that I didn’t reply, Veronica wasn’t angry. She sat right beside my bed and started bragging. “Sorry I didn’t give you a heads-up. Ethan is just too protective of me. My stomach was feeling a bit off, and he was so worried. He literally confiscated my phone and forced me to take a nap. He only just left because of an urgent company matter, so I finally found time to see you.” I nodded, my voice flat. “Thank you for coming. Since you’re sick, you should rest more.” Veronica froze for a second, then her smile grew even wider, dripping with venom. “So… you really did lose your memory.” “I heard that during the five years I was gone, you clung to Ethan like a desperate dog.” “But even if you don’t remember, I’m sure Harper told you how much he loves me. I really want to get back together with Ethan, but because you fell down the stairs, he has this lingering guilt. It’s holding him back.” She tilted her head, the sweet smile vanishing to reveal pure, raw malice. “So, I need you to disappear from Ethan’s sight, you pathetic loser.” Before I could even speak, Veronica’s eyes welled up, and massive tears began to roll down her cheeks as she sobbed into her hands. Before I could figure out what game she was playing, Ethan burst through the door with brute force. The moment he saw Veronica crying, he turned on me like a savage animal. “Chloe, what the hell is wrong with you?! Veronica came here out of the goodness of her heart, and you have the nerve to bully her? I’ve told you a thousand times, Veronica is my life. She’s the only woman I will ever love.” “I actually thought you were behaving lately with your cold act. I didn’t realize your tactics had just gotten dirtier!” I kept my composure and explained, “I didn’t say a thing. Veronica came into my room and insulted me under the guise of visiting. There’s a security camera right there. Just pull the footage.” Veronica’s eyes flickered, and she immediately sobbed, “Ethan, please, she’s still a wealthy heiress. My family is ruined now, I can’t afford to offend her.” “If she says I insulted her, then I did. Miss Chloe, I apologize to you. I’ll bow to you. Just please, don’t be mad!” Ethan already loathed me for using my family’s influence to chase him. Seeing Veronica humiliate herself like this made him lose all rationality. He pulled Veronica into his arms, cooing softly, “Veronica, you’re just too kind.” He then glared at me. “Last time, she almost got physically violent with you. Thank God I got there in time. I thought falling down the stairs would teach you a lesson, but you’re still as vicious as ever!” He spat out his warning. “Chloe, for the sake of your recovery, apologize to Veronica right now, and I’ll let this go!” I was shaking with anger. “I will not apologize! Why should I apologize for something I didn’t do?!” “Ethan Hayes, I said I didn’t do it! If you don’t believe me, check the security cameras!” Ethan sneered, completely ignoring my words. He turned to the bodyguards standing behind him. “Check the cameras? Do you think Veronica would lie to me?!” “Since you refuse to apologize on your own, I’ll have to have someone teach you some manners.” I had barely recovered from my head injury, and my physical strength was no match for professional bodyguards. Within seconds, they pinned my arms back. The brute force bruised my shoulders instantly, making me gasp in pain. Under Ethan’s cold command, the bodyguards violently dragged me out of bed. They forced my head down, trying to make me bow to Veronica. I was already suffering from a concussion and prone to dizziness. After being violently wrestled like this, my vision went black. My head slammed hard against the metal edge of the hospital bed. Warm blood immediately gushed down my forehead, blinding me. The pain was excruciating. “Leave her! She’s just playing victim again. Today, she needs to learn her lesson.” Blood blurred my eyes. Weak and dizzy, I collapsed to my knees on the cold floor. The bodyguards kept pressing my head down, forcing me to bow to Veronica. My forehead hit the hard floor repeatedly. Ethan stood there, watching it all with absolute indifference. It hurt. It hurt so much. My head felt like it was being shattered by a sledgehammer. My entire body began to convulse with pain. Eventually, I lost the strength to struggle and slipped into complete darkness. The last thing I saw through the blood was Ethan gently wrapping his coat around Veronica, whispering sweet words as he led her out. Veronica looked back at me, sprawled miserably on the floor, her face twisted in a triumphant grin. Clinging to Ethan, she silently mouthed to me: “You lose, b”tch.”

When I woke up again, the first thing I saw was Harper’s swollen, tear-stained eyes. “Chlo, thank God you’re awake.” “The nurse said if they had been a few minutes later, the second concussion and the blood loss would have killed you. You almost never woke up. That man is an absolute monster!” But Ethan was still her uncle. I didn’t want to ruin her family relationships. I gently patted Harper’s head and let out a long sigh. “It’s fine. Let’s just say I paid my debt for bothering him for five years.” The day I was discharged, I went straight to the office with my resignation letter. “You’re resigning?” Ethan looked stunned when I handed him the envelope. His eyes lingered on the white gauze wrapped around my forehead. His expression turned awkward, and he spoke in a stiff, uncomfortable tone. “About last time… I went too far. But you were the one who started it. Look, I’ll hand the Apex Project over to your family’s company as compensation. Stop throwing a tantrum.” I simply shoved the pen into his hand, my voice devoid of emotion. “I did nothing wrong. If you don’t believe me, check the cameras. I don’t accept your apology.” Ethan’s face darkened at my rejection. He forced himself to say, “I know you’re upset that I promoted Veronica to be the head of your department. But I made you the deputy head. It’s not like I demoted you. But on major decisions, you still have to defer to Veronica, and you absolutely cannot bully her! Otherwise, I’ll—” I cut him off sharply, repeating my demand. “Mr. Hayes, your company’s promotions have absolutely nothing to do with a person who is resigning.” “Sign it.” Ethan, humiliated by my repeated rejections, finally snapped. His eyes turned ice-cold. “Fine! I’ll sign it! Do you really think I can’t run this company without you?” “I’ve given you enough face, Chloe, but you threw it back in my face. Once you walk out that door today, don’t you dare come back crying to me. Because I will never let you back in!” Ethan signed the paper and threw the resignation letter in my face. I didn’t care to argue. I picked it up from the floor, turned on my heel, and walked out without looking back. Behind me, Ethan stared at my retreating back, suddenly falling into a tense silence. The day before my flight, Harper threw me a small farewell party. At the venue, I ran into Ethan and Veronica again. Harper gave me a helpless look, and I instantly knew Veronica must have wormed her way into the guest list. But with so many people around, I couldn’t make a scene, nor did I want Veronica to start drama. I greeted them politely, but my coldness was obvious to everyone. Halfway through the party, I went to the back garden to get some fresh air by the fountain. “Why are you still throwing yourself at Ethan? Can’t you see he only has eyes for me? All this drama about resigning and throwing a farewell party… do you honestly think Ethan cares?” I was done playing nice with Veronica. I spoke with sharp venom. “Didn’t you two crash this party yourselves? I didn’t invite you. If you don’t like it, the door is right there. Leave!” Veronica stomped her high heels in anger and hissed, “You’re the one who’s desperate! You’ve been acting so cold lately, and it’s making Ethan so distracted.” “You and Harper are just a pair of cheap sl”ts trying to seduce him. If it wasn’t for you two, Ethan and I would have been married by now!” A surge of hot anger rushed to my head. She could insult me all she wanted, but Harper? Who the hell did she think she was to talk about Harper like that? “Aren’t you the cheap one? You ran away for five years when his family was struggling, and now you crawl back to beg for his money.” “Ethan is Harper’s family, and you dare call her names? You’re not just cheap, you’re disgusting. No wonder Ethan’s grandfather refused to let you marry into the family. He saw right through your trashy soul!” “Slap!” Before she could react, I delivered a clean, hard slap to her face. Veronica never expected me to hit her. Clutching her red, swollen cheek, she screamed in rage and lunged at me. We ended up in a full-blown physical fight. “I said what I said! Do you think Ethan will believe you or me? You’re a sl”t, and Harper is a trashy wh”re helping you hook up with her own uncle!” I found an opening and slapped her again, drawing blood from her lip. By the time the guests rushed to the garden, they had to pull us apart. Ethan, without asking a single question, stepped in front of Veronica and demanded with a dark face: “Chloe, apologize!” I was held back by Harper, screaming in fury. “Apologize for what?! She insulted me and Harper with the most disgusting words! Am I supposed to just take it?!” Ethan didn’t hear a word I said. He looked at Veronica with pure heartbreak. “Chloe, I said, apologize!” “Are you deaf, or do you just refuse to see the truth? You believe every single word that comes out of her mouth! Pull the damn cameras! It will show exactly who needs to apologize!” Ethan’s eyes turned murderous as he repeated, “Yes. If Veronica says it, I believe it.” “Chloe, I am giving you one last chance. Apologize!” I was so angry I felt dizzy. I broke free from Harper’s grip, ready to scream at him. “No! Veronica was the one who—” “Slap!” A massive force sent me stumbling back. I clutched my burning cheek, staring at Ethan in absolute shock. He had just slapped me in front of everyone. The entire crowd gasped. The looks thrown at me were filled with gossip, disgust, and even malicious satisfaction. Ethan pulled Veronica into his arms and barked at me, “That was just a lesson.” “If you’re still not satisfied, I will check the cameras myself later!” With that, Ethan led Veronica away, leaving the party. Harper was so furious she wanted to chase them down, but I grabbed her arm. There was no point. Right now, Ethan was completely blind to everything except Veronica. I quietly held my swollen cheek and left the party. The next morning at the airport gate, Harper’s eyes were red as she hugged me goodbye. “Go to London and focus on your studies, Chlo. I promise I will clear your name today!” I smiled softly. “It’s fine. It doesn’t matter anymore.” Ethan’s slap didn’t just shatter my dignity; it completely killed any lingering feelings I had for him. To the current me, the truth didn’t matter. The man named Ethan Hayes, along with my love for him, had completely vanished from my heart. I just wanted to leave this toxic place behind. Meanwhile, Ethan, who hadn’t slept a wink all night, finally pulled the security footage in the morning. As he watched the screen, his face turned pale, and his eyes filled with absolute horror. He listened to the “sweet, gentle” Veronica on screen, her face twisted in malice as she screamed “sl”t” and “wh”re.” His hands began to shake violently. Ethan suddenly realized he had made a horrific, irreversible mistake. A wave of intense panic washed over him. His hands trembled so much he could barely hold his phone. He tried to call my number, only to realize he had been blocked. He hurriedly dialed Harper’s number. “Harper… I think I misunderstood Chloe.”

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When my son, Leo, was three, my wife, Chloe, secretly took him away and gave him to her childhood friend, Carlos. She then lied to me, claiming our boy was lost. While I was frantically searching the streets, out of my mind with worry, I saw Carlos’s latest Instagram post. “A family of three. Simple happiness.” The photo showed Carlos holding a sleeping Leo, with Chloe leaning in close for a cozy selfie. Ignorant friends had flooded the comment section with blessings. My reply was the only one that stood out like a sore thumb: “Give Leo back to me.” Ten minutes later, the post was deleted. Chloe called me, absolutely furious. “What is wrong with you? He’s just a kid! We can always have another one later!” “Carlos can never have his own children. What’s wrong with letting him raise ours?” In the background, I could hear Carlos’s soft, soothing voice. Chloe snapped, “You need to think about your attitude,” and hung up. An hour later, Carlos updated his Instagram again, tagging me directly. “The one who truly loves you will bring everything you want to your feet.” The picture showed the custom diamond ring I had ordered six months ago. It was Chloe’s way of putting me in my place. But this time, I wasn’t going to take it anymore.

Chloe didn’t get home until 9 PM. By then, I was already packing my bags. The bedroom was a total mess. She walked in with a sneer. She was clearly here to fight for Carlos. “You know Carlos just found out he’s sterile! Why would you rub salt in his wound? Don’t you think you’re being incredibly cruel?” Looking at this self-righteous woman spitting words at me, I found it almost hilarious. This was my wife. She was terrified that a single word from me would hurt Carlos. Yet, she didn’t care at all about how terrified I was when she lied and told me our son was missing. I didn’t even want to argue. I stood there, holding a glass of water, watching her storm around the room, frantically packing up the rest of Leo’s things. My mind flashed back to two mornings ago. I had barely sat down at my desk at work when my phone rang. Her voice was trembling on the other end: “Liam, what do we do? Leo is gone! I lost him!” Through her sobbing, she claimed Leo had wandered off at the mall. I panicked. I immediately called my friends and organized a search party around the mall. Even as I frantically searched every corner, I didn’t forget to call and comfort her. But where was she? She was probably by Carlos’s side the whole time. Because Carlos had just been diagnosed with infertility. He could never have biological children. Her heart bled for him. She wanted to be with him twenty-four hours a day, terrified he might do something drastic. And when I called her a few more times to get more details about how Leo went missing, she got annoyed. She thought I was interrupting her time with Carlos, so she blocked my Snapchat and my number. For two days and nights, I didn’t sleep or eat, searching desperately. Still, there was no sign of him. Just as I was on the verge of a total breakdown, I stumbled upon Carlos’s Instagram update. “A family of three. Simple happiness.” In the photo, Carlos was holding a sleeping Leo with one arm, his other arm wrapped around a blushing Chloe. They looked like a perfect, happy family. At that moment, all the strength drained from my body. I couldn’t understand what I was to Chloe. Seeing me sitting silently at the table, Chloe’s anger flared up again. “Why aren’t you talking? Playing mute again? Giving me that silent treatment—who do you think you are?” “I already explained it to you on the phone. Carlos can’t have kids.” “Isn’t it perfect to give Leo to him? He didn’t ask for much—just one child!” My hands trembled around the glass. I forced down my rage, looking up at her. “He can ask for whatever he wants. But Leo is mine. Bring him back.” Chloe lost her temper, throwing a pile of clothes right at my face. “Liam, have you had enough?!” “I’ve told you a thousand times, Carlos and I are strictly platonic! I’m just trying to help him!” “You’re always jealous whenever I’m near him. Now that he’s sick, why do you have to throw a tantrum?” “Carlos was right. You’re just a controlling, insecure guy trying to satisfy your own ego!” I was too stunned to speak. The scratch on my leg from searching for Leo began to throb.

Just as the pain made me break into a cold sweat, the doorbell rang. Seeing me sit there, Chloe went to open it. “Hello, we received a report of a missing child…” Before the officer could finish, Chloe cut him off frantically. “No, we found him. Sorry for wasting your time.” She slammed the door shut. Turning back to me, her face was twisted in rage. She screamed: “Liam, are you crazy?! Why the hell did you call the cops? You did this on purpose, didn’t you!” “Carlos was right. You just wanted to terrorize me so I’d submit to you!” She was about to keep screaming, but when she noticed my pale face, she stopped and took a few hesitant steps forward. But she quickly froze. “Oh, please. Are you seriously faking it now?” “You work out every day. You’re telling me searching for a kid for two days made you this weak?” “I get it. You’re trying to copy Carlos to get my sympathy, aren’t you?” Looking at her sneering face, I felt a wave of disgust. So Carlos being sterile meant he was fragile and needed protection, but me being genuinely hurt was just “faking it”? He could play the victim to steal my child and enjoy everything that belonged to me, and she found it completely justified? I gritted my teeth and wrapped a bandage around my shin, sinking back into my chair to catch my breath. Seeing this, Chloe pulled a box of chocolates out of her purse and tossed it onto the table. Her voice softened slightly. “Here. Eat up.” “Carlos made me bring this back for you.” “He said Leo is safe with him, so you don’t have to worry. Consider this box of chocolates his apology.” “Liam, we’re doing this for the kid’s sake.” “Just accept it. We can still be friends. You can visit Leo whenever you want.” I looked at the half-melted chocolates on the table, my heart turning to ice. The packaging had clearly been opened. Most of the chocolates had melted together, exposing crushed almonds. If I looked closely, I could even see bite marks on the corners of some pieces. “No, thanks.” My voice was raspy. My throat burned. Chloe didn’t use to be like this. She used to love me. She knew all my likes and dislikes. She knew I had a life-threatening almond allergy—that I couldn’t even touch them. But ever since Carlos came back from abroad, she had become a completely different person. Seeing me reject her offering, Chloe snatched the box and threw it at me. The sticky dark chocolate splattered all over my white shirt. “Enough, Liam! Stop being so ungrateful!” “If you keep throwing this tantrum, you’ll never see Leo again.” “Don’t forget, I’m the one who gave birth to him!” I froze, the pain in my leg instantly forgotten. I never thought the woman I had been married to for five years, the woman I loved deeply, would one day use our son to threaten me. “I want to see Leo. Now.” The thought of little Leo being ripped away from his parents, crying out for his dad somewhere, sent a sharp pang through my chest. Chloe smirked, thinking she finally had leverage over me. She grabbed her phone to FaceTime Carlos. “Sure. But you have to apologize to Carlos first.” I snapped my head up, utterly bewildered. “You stole my son and gave him away, and now I have to apologize to *him* just to see my own kid?” Chloe lost it. She hurled her phone at me. “Your kid? Don’t forget, he came out of my body! Without me, you wouldn’t even have a son!” “And as for Carlos?” “Let me make one thing clear: he’s my child, and I’ll let whoever I want raise him!” “If you don’t want to apologize over the phone, fine. You can apologize to him in person!” With that, she grabbed my hair and dragged me toward the door. The sudden movement tore the wound on my leg open again. Fresh blood soaked through the bandage.

The agonizing pain made me think of Leo. He was such a sweet, sensible boy. He must be so scared right now. I remembered how much Chloe had changed after she picked Carlos up from the airport. She stopped caring about me, and she barely paid attention to Leo. Until a week ago, when Chloe, who had been MIA for weeks, unexpectedly came home early and cooked a huge dinner. She apologized softly, claiming she had been neglecting us because of work. Leo was so happy that day. But he didn’t understand—what kind of “work” makes a mother completely ignore her child for three whole months? Yet, despite the flimsy excuse, I chose to believe her for the sake of our family. Ever since Carlos returned, she hadn’t sat down for a single meal with our son. I had tried to respect her choices. Even when Leo cried for her, I did my best to soothe him. But now, I finally understood. It was all because of another man. That rare family dinner was interrupted by a phone call from Carlos before we even started eating. Carlos’s low, depressed voice on the line sent her into an instant panic. She grabbed her car keys and bolted. Leaving behind a resigned me, and a heartbroken Leo. The trail of blood on the floor was hard to ignore. Chloe finally noticed, and her grip on my hair loosened. She hesitated. “Are you really hurt?” I could only offer a bitter laugh. When we first got married, we were so in love. Chloe’s entire world revolved around me. Back then, let alone this much blood, she would worry over the tiniest bruise. And now? Every vow we made had become a worthless, forgotten promise. An impatient look crossed her face as she grabbed her keys. “Fine. If you were hurt, why didn’t you say so earlier? Let’s go to the hospital.” I didn’t argue. I let her help me into the car. The moment I sat in the passenger seat, I realized her car had completely changed too. On the dashboard was a bottle of cologne from France—where Carlos had just returned from. And in the corner of the rearview mirror, there was a Polaroid of her and Carlos. Seeing my eyes fixed on it, Chloe looked slightly guilty. “Don’t overthink it. It’s just a silly photo we took as friends. He pasted it there for fun.” “If you don’t like it, I can take it down…?” I leaned my head against the window, closing my eyes to block out the sun. “It’s fine. Just take me to the hospital.” As a man, how could I not see through Carlos’s little games? He was quietly invading my space, marking his territory, and mocking me. In the past, I would have thrown a fit. But now? I didn’t want this woman anymore. Anything related to her no longer mattered. We had only been driving for a few minutes when Carlos called. Over the phone, Carlos’s whiny voice was accompanied by Leo’s hysterical crying. My heart clenched. Helpless, I grabbed Chloe’s arm. “What’s wrong with Leo?! Why is he crying like that?!” But Chloe didn’t care about my panic. She pulled over to the curb, unlocked the passenger door, and shoved me out. She left me with one sentence:

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Starting from the second week of college, I suddenly began gaining weight no matter what I ate. Meanwhile, my roommate Vivian, who used to weigh a massive 200 pounds, was visibly shedding weight by the day. Within a month, our weights completely swapped. She was down to 100 pounds. I was up to 200 pounds. She even snatched my slot to host the annual Homecoming Gala. And because she was terrified I’d stop trying, she rallied the entire class to “supervise” my weight loss. But why the hell should I listen to any of them? Wouldn’t it be much more fun if we were all fat together? Soon enough, her weight started ballooning like a pumped-up balloon. And Vivian literally fell to her knees, begging me to break the bond! I had just finished my ten-kilometer run for the day. Dragging my leaden legs back to the dorm, I hadn’t even wiped the sweat off my face before Vivian’s screeching voice pierced my ears. “Oh look, the fat pig is back!” She was sitting in my desk chair, dangling her feet in a pair of limited-edition designer heels she had just dug out of my closet. Her little clique of minions instantly caught the cue and burst into nasty laughter. “Look at her. Disgusting.” “Other people sweat, but she? She’s sweating pure lard!” “She reeks. She’s not even in the same league as Vivian anymore.” A wave of heat rushed straight to my face, making my cheeks burn. “Vivian, are you done?” I panted, my voice trembling slightly. “Not even close,” she said, standing up. Though she was barely 5’3″, she strutted toward me like she owned the world, spitting words right into my face. “Fat pigs don’t get to rest, okay? Keep moving. Otherwise, how are you going to burn off all that lard?” She poked my shoulder hard with her finger. My muscles were already trembling from overexertion, and with that poke, I lost my balance and fell straight to the floor. A surge of raw anger hit my brain. I violently slapped her hand away. “Vivian, that’s enough! So what if I’m fat? I still have my dignity!” Vivian acted like she had just heard the funniest joke in the world. She threw her head back and laughed, and her minions joined in, howling with amusement. Suddenly, she grabbed a freshly opened bottle of my expensive hydrating toner from my desk. Without even unscrewing the cap properly, she gave it a cruel flick. The ice-cold liquid, heavily scented, splashed all over my face and chest. My brand-new gym top was instantly ruined, covered in a giant, dark wet stain. “Oops, my hand slipped!” She covered her mouth, but the malicious glee in her eyes was impossible to hide. Another minion giggled as she grabbed my canvas tote bag hanging from the bedpost. With a loud clatter, she slammed it down by my feet. My textbooks and notebooks scattered all over the floor. “Pick them up, piggy.” Vivian crossed her arms and tilted her chin up, commanding me like I was a stray dog. “And while you’re down there, my shoes got a little dusty. Wipe them.” The air in the room froze. Blood roared in my ears. A crushing weight of humiliation wrapped around my chest like cold vines, squeezing the breath right out of me. I bit my lower lip so hard I tasted copper. My fingernails dug into my palms. The sharp pain was real, but it couldn’t drown out the overwhelming shame and anger. Just a month ago, Vivian was a 200-pound girl who was too terrified of rejection to even look people in the eye. But today, she had completely transformed. Not only had she successfully shrunk to a model’s size, but her personality had also taken a nasty, arrogant turn. I had never done anything to hurt her. In fact, I was the only person in this entire school who had ever treated her like a real friend. How dare she treat me like this!

I didn’t know what was happening lately. No matter what I ate, I just kept blowing up. My weight was climbing like crazy. Going from 100 pounds to 200 pounds took only a single month. And somehow, Vivian had managed to lose exactly that much weight in the same month, dropping from 200 to 100 pounds. It was pure insanity—the kind of ridiculous plot you’d only see in a trashy fantasy drama. Yet, it was happening to me in real life. But I refused to believe it at first. The moment I realized I was gaining weight, I started starving myself and working out, pushing my body to the absolute limit. I woke up before dawn to run, with only the streetlights cast stretching shadows on the track. At the cafeteria, I only dared to order plain celery and boiled kale. By midnight, my stomach would burn with agonizing hunger. Every single time I stepped on the scale, my heart lodged in my throat. But that cursed number remained welded to the display, refusing to budge. Occasionally, I’d lose half a pound, only to gain back double the next day. Despair slowly crawled up like cold ocean water, submerging me. The beliefs I had lived by for over a decade almost crumbled in that moment. Was Vivian really some kind of chosen one? And was I just her miserable foil? I stared at the bloated, swollen stranger in the mirror. The fat had swallowed my facial features, leaving no trace of the sharp, pretty girl I used to be. But what about Vivian? She spun around in an XS-sized dress she had stolen from my closet, practically floating. She basked in the attention of the boys who swarmed around her like flies, soaking up titles like “goddess” and “untouchable,” while they used me as a doormat to make her look better. “Don’t waste your breath, Chloe,” she whispered in my ear, her voice dripping with venom. “Some people are just born to be fat pigs.” The final string in my head snapped. To hell with dieting! I marched into the cafeteria. I loaded my tray with everything I had been terrified to touch before—cheeseburgers, pizzas, loaded fries. The rich aroma of grease and carbs hit my nose, bringing a sense of pure, vengeful euphoria. I buried my face in the food, eating like a starving wolf. Strangely, after a few days of total indulgence, no matter how much trash food I shoved down my throat, my weight stayed completely stagnant. That was bizarre. Losing weight was hard, but gaining weight shouldn’t be this difficult either. Just then, Vivian’s hysterical shriek echoed from across the room: “Where is my jawline?! Why do I have a double chin?! What happened to my face?!” She was clawing at her cheeks, which had visibly rounded, and at the sudden roll of fat spilling over her waistband. She looked like she was losing her mind. A bizarre, wild thought suddenly crept into my head. Something was seriously wrong here. I was eating like a pig, so why was she gaining weight? And back when I was killing myself at the gym, my weight wouldn’t budge, but she was getting lighter by the day!

I decided to investigate Vivian. If she was behind this, I was going to destroy her. That evening, she received a phone call. Her voice instantly turned sweet enough to cause cavities, and she hurriedly ran downstairs. Acting on pure instinct, I quietly followed her. Sneaking past the secluded woods behind the campus library, I spotted Harry in the distance. My boyfriend of one year. The guy who always claimed he loved me for being “independent and confident.” They were hooking up behind my back. I clenched my fists so hard my knuckles turned white. Nice move, Harry! We hadn’t even broken up yet, and you were already screwing around with Vivian! The next second, Vivian threw herself into his arms like a butterfly. Harry wrapped his arms around her waist, leaning down to nuzzle her forehead with a tenderness I had never seen him show me. “Harry, do you like my new dress?” Vivian’s voice drifted over with the breeze. “You look beautiful. You look amazing in everything.” Harry’s voice was pure mush. “Way better than Chloe, right? She’s got such a nasty temper, and now she’s as big as a house. It’s so embarrassing to be seen with her.” “Don’t even mention her,” Harry said, his voice dripping with utter disgust. “My Vivian is the best. You have such a perfect body. Walking with you makes me look so good.” So that was it! I forced myself to stay calm. They made out for about half an hour before Vivian took a shopping bag from Harry and started walking back. I slid behind a thick bush, letting the darkness swallow my heavy frame. Vivian hummed a tune as she walked, practically skipping. She was on cloud nine. “Chloe thinks she’s so special. Too bad she’s bound to my system now! Her perfect weight belongs to me!” She snapped a twig in her hand, her voice sending a chill down my spine. “Chloe, you’re nothing but my stepping stone for the rest of your life. Once I lock Harry down for good, everything you own will be mine.” Vivian’s sudden weight loss. Harry’s sudden coldness and his constant threats to break up with me. All the puzzle pieces fell into place, revealing a terrifying truth! Vivian had bound a system to me, and she had swapped our weights. Fine. Perfect. Vivian, so this is how you repay me. To think I actually felt sorry for her poor background and constantly bought her food and clothes. She literally stabbed me in the back! Vengeance spread through my veins like wildfire. Force her to unbind? No. I wanted her to drink her own poison! Losing weight is pure torture. Working out is a nightmare. Why don’t we just give up and be fat together like “best friends”?

Step one: get my stolen stuff back. I went straight to Professor Ford, throwing down photos and receipts on his desk. The Cartier necklace Vivian bragged about every day, the Chopard watch on her wrist, and the empty jars of La Prairie skin cream stacked on her vanity. Every single item belonged to me. “Professor, these items are worth over $30,000 in total. Vivian has been ‘borrowing’ them for almost a year and refuses to return them.” “Should I call the police and file a grand larceny report, or would you prefer to contact her parents directly?” Professor Ford’s face turned several shades of pale. When Vivian was summoned to the office, she still had her nose in the air. She dragged a heavy plastic bag behind her and tossed it at my feet with a loud clatter. The necklace was scratched and dull—clearly a cheap replica, not my original. The watch was real, but she obviously hadn’t cared for it; the leather strap was heavily worn, severely tanking its value. And the luxury skincare jars were practically scraped clean. “There! Take it back! We’re classmates, is it really that serious?” She rolled her eyes, acting like I was the dramatic one. “You seriously don’t know the first thing about being a team player!” “I don’t touch trash that other people have ruined,” I said coldly, pushing the bag away. “Either you pay me the full $30,000 value, or you can explain it to a judge.” Vivian’s face drained of color instantly. I knew her family’s financial situation. Forget $30,000—they couldn’t even scrape together $2,000 without selling their house. She shot a panicked look at Harry, who had just burst into the office. “Chloe! Don’t push it!” Harry yelled, looking incredibly righteous. “Vivian just used a few of your things! What’s the big deal?” “Can’t you just be the bigger person? Do you have to ruin her life? Apologize to Vivian right now!” Where did this clown get the nerve? I almost laughed out loud. “Did you pocket the cash from the real necklace I bought, Harry?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “Or did you plan this theft together? Because let’s be real, Vivian doesn’t have the brains to pull this off alone.” Vivian probably didn’t even know what luxury brands were before she met me! Harry panicked, quickly cutting me off. “Chloe, shut up! I… I’m just standing up for what’s right.” “We’re all classmates. There’s no need to make things this ugly.” Even now, he was still trying to play both sides. Even if I adopted a dog, at least it would be loyal! I looked at the two of them—one completely lost, the other shifting his eyes guiltily. I felt a sudden wave of pity for my past self. How did I let myself get played by these two absolute idiots? What a joke! I stood up, done wasting my breath. “That’s why I brought Professor Ford in as a witness instead of calling the cops directly. I was trying to spare you guys.” “But let me make this clear: the total value is $30,000. I don’t take cash. Wire it directly to my bank account!” Hearing this, Vivian completely lost her mind. “Chloe! You’re robbing me! A stupid necklace is not worth $30,000! You’re insane!” I slapped the original purchase receipts onto the desk one by one. “I get that you don’t understand luxury brands, Vivian. But I have the receipts. Feel free to take them to the store to verify.” Vivian looked at Professor Ford, begging him to intervene. But Professor Ford just rubbed his temples and said with a sigh, “Chloe is right. If you don’t believe her, we can involve the police. The amount is too high for the university to handle internally.” Vivian’s face went entirely white. Harry didn’t dare say a word. He was completely stunned. I didn’t expect to get the money today anyway. I had to give them some time to sweat and scramble, after all. Professor Ford, terrified of a scandal reflecting badly on the department, promised me he would make sure they paid me back. But I knew Vivian’s revenge would be fast and dirty. She had never planned on playing nice. But the trap wasn’t fully set yet. I couldn’t let them off the hook too easily…

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I ran into a lost child at the Westfield Galleria today. He told me his dad was William Vance, a major real estate tycoon. Coincidentally, my child’s father was also named William Vance, and he was also a giant in the real estate industry. Right then and there, I decided to ask for a divorce. But when I turned our entire house upside down, I couldn’t find our marriage certificate anywhere. Just as I was about to confront William, a cold, hard truth hit me—we never actually registered our marriage. I wasn’t his wife. I was just his dirty little secret. The kept woman. 0 “My dad is William Vance. He works at Apex Developments. Ma’am, can you please take me to him?” “I’m lost, and I’m really scared.” It was the weekend, and I was just doing some light shopping when a little boy suddenly ran up to me and grabbed the hem of my dress. He said he had accidentally slipped out of his dad’s office building and got lost. I asked him for his father’s name and the company he worked for. When he answered, I froze. Coincidentally, my son’s father was also named William Vance. And he also worked at Apex Developments. Could these two boys… have the exact same father? The thought made me shiver violently. If they were the same person, it meant I had been sharing my husband with another woman this whole time. “Ma’am? Are you okay? Can you please take me back?” “My dad has a lot of money. If you take me back, he’ll give you whatever you want.” The boy’s innocent voice pulled me back to reality. I looked down at his face. He looked so much like my own son, Leo. My hands and feet went completely numb. My heart felt like it was being squeezed by a pair of invisible hands, aching so sharply I could barely breathe. “Do you know what your dad looks like?” I whispered. The boy smiled brightly and pulled a photo out of his jacket pocket. It was a family photo. They looked incredibly happy. “The man on the left is my dad.” With blurry, tear-filled eyes, I pointed at the woman standing on the right side of the photo. “And who is she?” “That’s my mom! Isn’t she beautiful? My dad loves my mom so much. For their tenth anniversary last month, he bought her a huge yacht. It was this big!” The little guy gestured widely with his arms. My fingernails dug deep into my palms. My heart skipped a beat, then plunged into a cold abyss. The pain was so intense I could barely stand. A tenth anniversary? I had been with William for seven years. Our son was almost four. Yet, he had been married to another woman for ten years. This brutal truth struck me like a bolt of lightning, instantly shattering all the love and trust I had built over the years into a million jagged pieces. I couldn’t choke down the rising bile. My stomach turned, and I rushed to a nearby trash can, dry-heaving violently. The little boy trotted after me, asking softly, “Ma’am? Are you okay?” He pulled a small handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to me. “Here, you can use this. Please don’t cry. It’s okay if you can’t take me back.” “Can I just borrow your phone? I can call my dad to pick me up.” I stared at the handkerchief in his hand. The monogrammed pattern was incredibly unique. I had seen it before—on FaceTime. My son’s nanny used the exact same handkerchiefs to wipe Leo’s hands. My heart shattered completely. I took the handkerchief, clutching it so tightly my knuckles turned white. In the end, I personally dropped the boy off at the lobby of Apex Developments. Then, I sent William a Snapchat message: *See me at home in thirty minutes.* ### 0

*Amber, I’m so sorry, but I have a major emergency at work. I can’t leave right now.* He replied instantly. He had always been like that over the last seven years. *I need to see you right now.* After I sent that, there was no reply. For the first time in our relationship, he just vanished mid-conversation. About five minutes later, another message popped up: *Okay. Wait for me at home.* I figured he only had free time now because his son had been found. I took an Uber home. Not long after I arrived, William walked through the door. He was wearing his usual black designer suit, but his tie was slightly crooked. He must have rushed back in a panic. “Amber, what’s wrong? Why the rush?” He had a warm smile on his face as he walked toward me, leaning down to press a tender kiss on my forehead. In our seven years together, kissing me was always the very first thing he did when he came home. But the thought that he had been doing the exact same thing to another woman for ten years made my stomach turn. It felt like a rusty blade was carving up my chest, leaving me bleeding and raw. It was all an act. Every single bit of it was a lie. “William, let’s end this. I want a divorce.” As soon as the words left my mouth, we both froze. During the few minutes I had waited for him, I had searched every drawer and cabinet in the house. I couldn’t find our marriage certificate. Only then did it hit me. We had been together for seven years. But I had never met his parents. We never had a legal, registered marriage license. I used to think that a relationship was just between two people. As long as he loved me, a piece of paper didn’t matter. How incredibly naive. How pathetic. I had been a mistress for seven years without even knowing it! “What are you talking about, Amber? It’s not April Fool’s Day. Don’t make jokes like that.” “If you’re upset about something, we can talk about it. I told you when we first met, I am never letting you go.” I shoved him away with all my strength. “The ’emergency’ you had earlier… it was because your son went missing, wasn’t it? You hadn’t found him yet when I texted you.” “Do you want to guess how he got back to you?” I felt William’s body go completely rigid. He was always so calm, so in control of his business empire. This was the first time I had ever seen him look utterly terrified. I quickly wiped the tears from my face, trying my best to salvage whatever dignity I had left. “I brought him back.” “He asked me to take him to you. And he showed me a picture of his happy little family.” “He also told me… that you’ve been married for ten years!” “Amber, it’s not what you think. Let me explain.” William lunged forward and wrapped his arms around me. No matter how much I thrashed and screamed, he wouldn’t let go. “I don’t love her. There’s no affection between us.” “It’s really not what you think.” “No affection?” I scoffed, tears streaming down my face. “You legally married her! So what am I? Your side piece? Your kept woman? You made me an unwitting mistress for seven whole years!” It was sickening. The man I had loved with all my soul for seven years had just driven a knife through my heart. And now, he was telling me it was fine, that the wound would heal. “If you don’t want to see her, I can send her away. I can move her to another country tomorrow. She won’t affect us.” “Amber, we’ve been so happy these past seven years. Her existence changes nothing.” *Slap!* My hand flew across his face. I was shaking so hard I could barely breathe. I couldn’t believe those words had actually come out of his mouth. He wanted me to stay? He wanted me to willingly remain his dirty little secret? Was this how he loved me? “We are done, William. I’m taking our son, and I’m leaving.” “No!” His eyes turned a furious, bloodshot red, and his grip tightened on my shoulders. “If you ever want to see Leo again, you will stay right here. Be a good girl and stay by my side.” My feet felt like they were glued to the floor. I had almost forgotten. A year ago, he told me that in order to give Leo the best education, he was sending him to an elite boarding school in Switzerland. William said we had to groom him from a young age. Thinking about our son’s future, I had agreed. I never realized it was actually a trap to keep me on a leash. ### 0

But I still left. The William standing before me was a complete stranger. It felt like I had spent the last seven years sleeping next to a man wearing a mask. I couldn’t bear to be in the same room with him for another second. I began to call my son’s phone frantically. Ten times. Twenty times. Fifty times. The result was always the same—it went straight to voicemail. William was truly ruthless. He had cut off my only way of contacting my own son. At that moment, the anger faded, leaving behind nothing but cold, hollow despair. I dialed William’s number one more time. But when the call connected, a furious female voice answered instead. “Who is this?” “Why does my husband have your contact saved with a heart emoji?” My hand clamped tightly around the phone. I didn’t know how to explain myself. “Are you his little whore?” she spat. I gasped. I wanted to scream back, *No! I’m not his whore! I’m his wife!* But the words died in my throat. They had been married for ten years. They had a child. They had a legal marriage certificate. What did I have? To a legal wife, there was no difference between a mistress and a whore. Both were homewreckers. I hung up the phone in a panic, pulled the hotel blanket over my head, and sobbed until I couldn’t breathe. I hated myself. I hated myself for being a good Samaritan at the mall, and most of all, I hated myself for ever falling in love with William Vance. … I first met William on a freezing, snowy night. I literally picked him up off the street. He was shivering, his skin bruised and blue from the cold. I had to admit, the moment I saw his face, my heart skipped a beat. William was incredibly handsome—sharp brows, striking eyes, the exact type I had always been drawn to. I took him to the hospital and took care of him. At first, he was a man of few words. He only answered when asked, and our conversations were dry and brief. It wasn’t until the day he was discharged that he finally initiated a conversation. He only said three words: “I have nothing.” I had smiled. Later, he moved into my tiny rented apartment. In the winter, we ordered cheap takeout and ate it under one blanket. In the summer, we got tacos from street vendors. After dinner, we would walk to the neighborhood park and watch the old folks play chess. William told me he had never experienced a life like this before. I assumed he had grown up in extreme poverty, so I loved and pitied him even more. Until one day in September, a fleet of black Escalades blocked our narrow street, and a group of men in suits took him away. Only then did I realize how wrong I had been. William was the sole heir to the Vance empire. I started Googling everything about his family. I knew that someone from his background would never cross paths with me again. But fate decided to play a cruel joke on me. William ran away from his family estate. He showed up at my door, dropped to one knee, and slipped a ring onto my finger. He begged me to marry him. He said he loved me. He said that although we couldn’t legally register the marriage right away due to his family’s interference, he would make them accept me one day. I believed him. I loved him. So, I said yes. I cooked his meals for seven years, and I gave him a son. And because of my foolish, blind love, I became his secret mistress. ### 0

The next morning, the hotel front desk called to tell me a woman named Victoria Croft was looking for me. I told them I didn’t want to see her. But somehow, she got a duplicate keycard to my room. She burst through the door, followed by a horde of paparazzi. Cameras flashed in my face, blinding me. Panicked, I pulled the duvet over myself, trying to hide. But Victoria had no intention of letting me off easily. She ordered her bodyguards to tear the blanket away. I had never felt so utterly humiliated. I was like a lamb led to the slaughter, completely defenseless. “I want the whole city to see what a homewrecking whore you are!” she screamed. She lunged at me, clawing at my face and ripping at my hair while the cameras captured every second of it. It was clearly a orchestrated, public execution. Fortunately, the police arrived quickly. They kicked the paparazzi out, and I was finally saved. At the station, a female officer kindly wrapped a jacket around my shivering shoulders and gave Victoria a stern warning. But Victoria’s voice in the interrogation room was loud and proud. Even sitting in the lobby, I could hear every word. “She’s a mistress! She ruined my marriage! Why shouldn’t I teach her a lesson?” “Clearly her parents didn’t raise her right, so I had to do it for them!” I stared at the floor, my fingernails digging so deep into my palms that they drew blood. I stood up abruptly, marched into the interrogation room, and pushed the door open. I knew I looked like a hot mess, but I didn’t care anymore. “I didn’t ruin your marriage,” I said, my voice trembling but clear. “He proposed to me. He told me he was single. He said he loved me and wanted to build a life with me.” “We’ve been together for seven years. The only reason we didn’t have a big wedding was because he said we had to wait for his family’s approval—” Before I could finish, William rushed into the room. He walked right past me, pulling Victoria into his arms as if I were nothing but thin air. “Are you okay?” he asked her softly. Victoria nodded. “Let me take you home. Leo is crying for you.” William turned to the police officer. “I’ve already spoken to your chief. I’m taking my wife home now.” Then, he finally looked at me, his eyes cold and distant. “Miss, I apologize for my wife’s behavior today. I will have my assistant reach out to explain everything later.” I watched him guide Victoria out of the station. At that exact moment, I realized that my beautiful seven-year dream had officially turned into a nightmare.

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The night before our contract was set to expire, Carter Sterling grabbed my waist from behind. My voice trembled slightly. “Carter… our arrangement is over.” His raspy voice brushed against my ear. “I don’t care. It’s not midnight yet.” What followed was a ruthless, breathless possession. “Are you sure you don’t want to renew the contract? If you stay, I might actually marry you.” Carter’s words struck a chord in my heart. For three years, I had stayed by his side. While he filled my body, he had also completely occupied my heart. But before I could even answer, he let out a cold laugh. “Just kidding. Fiona is back. After midnight, we are officially nothing.” I turned away, hiding the tears spilling from my eyes. Of course. The real queen had returned. It was time for the substitute to leave the stage. … At 2:00 AM, a sharp, unbearable pain ripped through my abdomen. Cold sweat instantly drenched my pajamas. I curled up on the bed, gasping for air. Every breath felt like a knife twist. Acute appendicitis. That was the only thought left in my mind. Shaking, I grabbed my phone and dialed the one number engraved in my soul. The phone rang for a long time before someone finally picked up. “Carter,” I whimpered, my voice cracking with pain. “My stomach hurts so bad… Can you please take me to the hospital?” The background on his end was loud. I could hear music blasting. Then, a sweet, playful female voice chimed in. “Carter, who is that? Come back and have a drink with us!” It was Fiona Vance. My heart instantly turned to ice. Carter’s impatient voice came through the receiver, cold and cutting. “I’m busy. Call an ambulance yourself.” He hung up. The harsh dial tone echoed in the silent, dark room. I lay in bed, shivering. The physical agony in my abdomen clashed with the freezing numbness in my chest. My vision began to blur. I was completely abandoned. Right before I blacked out, I used the last of my strength to dial my best friend, Sebastian Cole. When I finally woke up, the first thing I smelled was bleach. Sebastian was sitting by my bedside, his eyes bloodshot with worry. “You’re awake? The doctor said if you had arrived thirty minutes later, you wouldn’t have made it.” He let out a massive sigh of relief. I tried to speak, but my throat was parched. Sebastian quickly handed me a cup of warm water and helped me sit up. “Your appendix ruptured. They had to do emergency surgery.” I took a sip of water and asked softly, “How did you get into my apartment?” Sebastian’s face darkened, anger flaring in his eyes. “You weren’t answering my calls, so I drove straight to your place. Thank god I remembered your door code.” He paused, his voice trembling with rage. “Chloe, where was your precious Carter? Did you even call him?” I remained silent. Sebastian let out a bitter laugh. “Do you have any idea what he was doing last night? He rented out the most exclusive VIP lounge in the city for Fiona’s welcome-back party. It was trending all over Instagram!” “The whole city knew about it, and you, you silly girl, were still hoping he’d save you!” His words felt like a sledgehammer crushing my chest. I thought about the last three years. To match his bland palate, I had stopped eating spicy food entirely, which eventually messed up my stomach. I dressed like Fiona. I learned how to arrange flowers like her. I watched the indie movies she liked. I had turned myself into a shadow of another woman, all for a fleeting smile from him. Looking back, it was incredibly pathetic. Just then, there was a knock on the ward door. A man in a sharp suit walked in. It was Carter’s personal assistant, James. He walked to my bed with a blank expression and handed me a check. “Miss Mitchell, Mr. Sterling said this is your compensation for the past three years. Five hundred thousand dollars.” James’s tone was completely professional, devoid of any warmth. “Mr. Sterling also said that from now on, you two are completely even.” I looked at the numbers on the check and suddenly laughed. I laughed so hard that tears streamed down my face. I asked Sebastian to help me sit up straight. I looked directly at James. “Please pass a message to Carter for me.” “Tell him, thank you for his generosity.” My voice was dead calm, showing no emotion. “And wish him and Miss Vance a very happy marriage.” James froze for a second, then nodded and left the room. The moment the door closed, the smile vanished from my face. I turned to Sebastian. “When we go back, help me throw away everything of his in my apartment.” “Don’t leave a single thing.” Sebastian nodded firmly. “About damn time!” I pulled out my phone, found Carter’s contact, and without a shred of hesitation, blocked his number. The pain, the betrayal, the despair, the anger, the humiliation. At this very moment, they all burned away, leaving nothing but absolute resolve. Time to wake up, Chloe. — **Chapter 2**

On the day I was discharged, Sebastian came to pick me up. To celebrate my “rebirth,” he took me to the trendiest spicy Sichuan hot pot restaurant in the city. “You’ve been craving this for three years. Today, you finally get to eat it.” Sebastian put a piece of spicy beef into my bowl. The fiery flavor exploded on my tongue. It felt both familiar and strangely new. But just as I picked up my fork, a commotion broke out near the entrance. Carter walked in, his arm wrapped around Fiona. They looked incredibly intimate. Fiona was smiling brightly, putting food onto his plate—all of which were the bland, light dishes he preferred. It was an eyesore. Since our table wasn’t far from theirs, he spotted me almost instantly. Carter frowned, whispered something to Fiona, and stood up, walking toward the restroom hallway. As expected, he blocked my path in the corridor a few minutes later. The expensive cologne on him drifted over, but his eyes were as cold as ice. “Are you recovered?” He spoke with no real concern, only a condescending stare. “I assume you got the check. Don’t contact me again.” His words were laced with warning and arrogance. I looked at the face I used to adore, feeling absolutely nothing. “Don’t worry,” I said indifferently, trying to step past him. “I wouldn’t want to get dirty.” Carter’s face instantly twisted. The word “dirty” clearly struck a nerve. He grabbed my wrist, his grip so tight it felt like he wanted to crush my bones. “What is that supposed to mean? Didn’t I give you enough money?” he snapped, his voice low and dangerous. I didn’t struggle. I simply lifted my arm, showing him the dense needle bruises on my wrist from the IV drips. “Is this what you mean by ‘enough’?” I looked at him calmly, speaking word by word. “To cater to your taste, I ate bland food for three years until I ended up in the emergency room.” “Carter, your money was bought with my health.” His pupils contracted, and his grip on my wrist loosened slightly. Embarrassment flashed across his face, quickly turning into rage. “Don’t push your luck, Chloe.” He shoved me against the wall, his voice freezing. “If you piss me off, I can cancel that check in a heartbeat.” Looking at his distorted, angry face, I suddenly remembered another night. He had a severe stomachache in the middle of the night. I had run across half the city in the freezing rain to find a 24-hour pharmacy just to buy the specific medicine he wanted. When I brought it to him, dripping wet, he didn’t even say thank you. Yet, on the night I almost died of ruptured appendicitis, he was out drinking and partying with another woman. What was I to him? Just a convenient tool he could summon and discard at will. This realization officially killed any lingering feelings I had. I stopped looking at him and forcefully shook off his hand. When I looked up again, I gave him a genuine, polite smile. “Mr. Sterling.” There was no longer any affection in my voice. “Have a nice life.” Without another word, I walked back to my table, leaving him standing in the dead silence of the hallway. I had completely let go of my obsession. I finally saw him for the selfish man he truly was. I was free. — **Chapter 3**

Sebastian helped me move into a new apartment. But to my surprise, Fiona showed up at my door the very next day. She walked in like she owned the place, scanning my cozy apartment with pure disdain. “Chloe, I thought you’d buy a mansion with that five hundred thousand dollars,” she said, sitting on my couch with an arrogant posture. She casually waved her left hand, letting the massive diamond ring on her finger catch the light. “Carter already proposed to me. We’re getting engaged next month.” Her voice was dripping with smug provocation. I didn’t say anything, just stood there quietly, watching her little show. Seeing that I wasn’t reacting, she shifted to a fake, sympathetic tone. “Look, I know you stayed with him for three years. It wasn’t easy.” “If you want more money, just tell me. Stop trying to slide into his Snapchats. Carter has a soft heart, and I don’t want you taking advantage of him.” What a laughable attempt to mark her territory. I remained silent and took a sip of water. My silence seemed to infuriate her. Fiona’s smile vanished, her voice turning sharp and venomous. “What? Is half a million not enough for you?” She sneered. “I guess that makes sense. After all, you slept with him for three years. You probably want a hefty ‘youth tax,’ don’t you?” Every single word was designed to humiliate me. My fingers tightened around my glass. Fiona saw this and thought she had won. She unlocked her phone, swiping through her photo album to show me. “Look, Carter took me to Provence for this shoot.” “And this one was in the Swiss Alps.” In the photos, Carter was smiling with pure tenderness. But the camera angles, the compositions, even the way he looked at her… They were identical to the photos I used to keep on my phone. It turned out that even the poses he took with me were just copies of her. That was the final blow. A dull ache throbbed in my chest, but I suppressed it. Suddenly, I smiled. Looking at Fiona’s bewildered face, I spoke slowly. “You’re right. Five hundred thousand is indeed a bit low.” My voice wasn’t loud, but it was crystal clear. Fiona smirked, thinking I was finally going to demand more money. I set my glass down, leaned in slightly, and looked her dead in the eye. “He’s actually pretty good in bed. That should be worth at least ten thousand dollars a night, don’t you think?” Fiona’s smirk froze. She clearly didn’t expect me to say something so shameless. “You… you shameless bitch!” she gasped, her face turning pale with rage. Just as the words left her mouth, the apartment door was suddenly pushed open. Carter, who was supposed to be at his office, stood at the doorway. His face was thunderous. He had obviously heard every single word. The air in the living room froze instantly. Fiona recovered quickly and immediately threw herself into his arms, sobbing hysterically. But Carter didn’t even look at her. His dark, burning eyes were locked onto me, as if he wanted to tear me apart. He squeezed out a few words through his teeth, his voice dripping with icy venom. “Is that really all I am to you?” The tension in the room was suffocating. I knew the real confrontation had just begun. — **Chapter 4**

Fiona sobbed against Carter’s chest. “Carter… she asked for more money, and she said those horrible things to humiliate me!” She cried beautifully, looking like the ultimate victim. I expected Carter to comfort her and blow up at me like he always did. But his next move caught me off guard. He actually pushed Fiona away. “Go wait in the car. I need to talk to her alone.” His eyes were incredibly complex—filled with anger, disappointment, and some emotions I couldn’t quite read. Fiona reluctantly left the apartment, closing the door behind her. Now, it was just the two of us. Carter stepped toward me, his powerful aura making the room feel incredibly small. “Are you really that desperate for money?” he demanded coldly. “You’ll say anything just for a paycheck?” I looked at him, finding it hilarious. In his mind, everything I did was about money. He didn’t believe I would actually leave him. He thought this was just some twisted tactic to squeeze more cash out of him. “Fine.” He pulled out his checkbook and a sleek pen, throwing them onto the coffee table with a sharp clack. “Write down a number. Then disappear from my life forever.” His voice was thick with disappointment and disgust. My heart was completely dead now. Under his cold gaze, I picked up the blank, signed check. Then, I pulled a lighter from my pocket. *Flick.* A blue flame danced in the air. Right before his eyes, the check caught fire, slowly turning into ashes. I dropped the burning paper into the empty glass. The entire time, I didn’t say a word. Action was the ultimate insult. Carter was completely pushed over the edge. He lunged forward, grabbing my wrist with bruising force. “You think you can just walk away from me?” His eyes were bloodshot, filled with a wild, possessive madness. “Chloe, without my permission, you are going nowhere!” His desperation only made me feel exhausted. The next day, with the savings Sebastian helped me secure, I quietly left the city. I moved to a place where no one could find me. When Carter returned to my apartment, it was already completely empty. He searched the place like a madman. Finally, in the living room trash can, he found the silver brooch. It was the very first gift he had given me three years ago. The symbol of me being a substitute. Now, it lay in the trash. I was gone. — **Chapter 5**

One year later. Paris, France. At a highly anticipated international business bidding conference, representatives from major corporations were gathered. Carter, representing Sterling Group, looked extremely confident, determined to win the bid. But when the rival company’s chief representative walked onto the stage, he froze. It was me. I was wearing a sharp, tailored business suit, standing confidently behind the podium. Beside me stood Sebastian. He was now my business partner and co-founder. We smiled at each other, looking incredibly close and synchronized. In the audience, Carter’s eyes turned red instantly. He lost the bid that day. And he also realized he had lost the one thing he used to take for granted—my love. His regret officially began at that moment. During the intermission, I went to the restroom. In the quiet hallway, Carter blocked my path once again. He smelled slightly of alcohol, and his gaze was even more intense than before. “Where have you been this past year?” His tone was still the same—bossy and demanding. “Withdraw from this project.” It wasn’t a request. It was an order. I looked at him, letting out a soft laugh. “And why would I do that?” He took a step closer, lowering his voice in a threatening manner. “Because I can make sure you never work in this industry again.” “Mr. Sterling,” I said coldly. The formal title felt like an invisible wall between us. “This is a professional conference, not my old apartment. Watch your boundaries.” My coldness visibly unnerved him, his brows furrowing deeply. “Chloe, don’t test my patience!” Before he could do anything, Sebastian walked over. Sebastian naturally placed his hand on my shoulder, gently pulling me behind him. He looked at Carter with a warning glare. “Mr. Sterling, please stop harassing my partner.” Sebastian’s voice was polite, but his stance was incredibly protective. He smiled and added, “In case you didn’t know, Chloe is our chief representative and the brilliant mind behind this entire project.” Every word of praise felt like a slap to Carter’s face. Carter’s eyes locked onto Sebastian’s hand on my shoulder, his anger flaring. “Ha,” he sneered. “Can’t survive without a man, can you? Found a new sugar daddy so quickly? Your taste is still trash.” His words were dripping with malice. Before I could speak, Sebastian’s face hardened. But I held him back. I stepped out from behind Sebastian and faced Carter directly. I smiled—not out of anger, but out of pity. “Mr. Sterling, are you jealous?” With one sentence, I ripped away his arrogant disguise. “Too bad you no longer have the right to be.” Carter’s face drained of color. The second half of the conference began. I walked up to the stage, facing hundreds of industry leaders, and delivered our presentation with absolute precision. My logic was flawless, my data was bulletproof, and every point was delivered with confidence. The judges nodded in approval, their eyes filled with admiration. When it was Carter’s turn, he was clearly distracted. He stumbled through his presentation, hesitated on basic questions, and gave vague answers. It was a complete disaster compared to my performance. Fiona, who was sitting next to him, felt the threat. Seeing how successful and beautiful I had become, her face turned pale. She started whispering frantically in Carter’s ear. Carter’s face grew darker by the second. He probably thought I had come back just to humiliate him. When the results were announced, there were no surprises. We won. Carter had lost the project he was absolutely certain he would get. He couldn’t accept it. In the underground parking lot, his sports car roared and blocked our path. He got out of the car, his eyes bloodshot, looking like a cornered beast. He stubbornly believed that everything I did was still about him. “Chloe! You did all this just to get my attention, didn’t you?” he screamed, his voice filled with desperate denial. “Fine! I see you now! You succeeded! Are you happy?!” Looking at his pathetic state, I felt nothing but pity.

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At the company’s annual end-of-year gala, the intern swapped my presentation slides with deepfake nudes of me. While the crowd jeered and whispered, my manager boyfriend, Ethan, fired me on the spot and broke up with me in public. The deepfake photos spread like wildfire. Everyone claimed my status as the top sales champ was bought with my body. No other company would even look at my resume. Furious, I went back to the office to confront the intern, only to find her passionately kissing Ethan in his office. “Good news! The old hag who always bossed me around is finally fired!” “She was stupid enough to try to explain things to you. If she knew that you, her own boyfriend, was in on this the whole time, she’d probably drop dead from anger.” The shock triggered a massive heart attack, and I died right there on the office floor. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day the intern was uploading my deepfake nudes. She offered to help me, smiling sweetly. “Chloe, let me carry your laptop for you.” *** Looking at her blinking and acting cute, I snapped out of the memory of my suffocating death. I smiled warmly at her. “Go ahead. The laptop is on my desk.” Mia Sterling smiled brightly. “Chloe, you’re going to shine so bright today.” I ignored her flattery and went back to my phone. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mia roll her eyes in disgust as she turned away. I squeezed my phone, forcing down the burning rage inside me. With trembling fingers, I opened the app connected to the hidden camera at my desk. The lens was pointed right at my workspace. The innocent smile on Mia’s face was completely gone, replaced by a cold sneer as she stared at my screen. Mia muttered through gritted teeth, “Just because you started working two years earlier than me, you think you’re better than me? Stop acting so high and mighty.” “After today, let’s see how you survive in this company! I’m going to ruin you.” Hearing her words sent a chill down my spine. In my past life, Mia had been shoved into the company without even going through an interview. She was the department manager’s daughter. Aside from her pretty face, she had zero working skills. Ethan, as the supervisor, had always hated people who got in through connections. At first, he couldn’t stand her. When Mia didn’t even know how to adjust the font size on a simple document, Ethan completely lost his temper and screamed at her. Even when Mia started crying to get sympathy, Ethan had looked at her with pure disgust. As Mia’s mentor, I had constantly stepped in to keep the peace between them. To help Mia, I practically ran myself ragged. When Mia “accidentally” booked a cheap diner instead of a high-end restaurant for a major client meeting, I was the one who smoothed things over with the furious client, saving her from having her pay docked. When she whined to me that she felt left out because she was younger and couldn’t fit in with the “adults” at the office, I made sure to bring her up in front of the other colleagues to help her feel included. And what did I get in return? She turned around and told everyone I was a toxic mentor who bullied her. She spread rumors that I only got sales contracts by sleeping with clients, all while sleeping with my boyfriend behind my back. Thinking about all of this, a fierce fire blazed in my chest. The live camera feed showed Mia doing exactly what she did in my past life. She swapped my presentation slides with deepfake nudes she had generated online, then copied the presentation onto my USB drive. After finishing her dirty work, Mia walked back over to me. “Chloe, can I ride in Ethan’s car with you guys to the hotel for the gala?” Before I could even speak, Ethan, who had been waiting behind me, chimed in, “Of course you can.” Mia smirked. She pushed right past me and hopped into the front passenger seat. “Chloe, I get really carsick if I sit in the back. You don’t mind, right?” I looked at Ethan. He just rubbed his nose and stayed silent. I almost laughed out of sheer anger. I pulled open the back door and got in. The moment I sat down, I saw Ethan’s hand naturally slide onto Mia’s thigh. *** **Chapter 2** Mia let out a soft, dramatic gasp. “Oh, Ethan! Stop, you’re going to make Chloe misunderstand.” Mia didn’t forget to shoot me a smug, mocking look, clearly expecting me to blow up. Ethan pulled his hand back instantly, panic in his voice. “Sorry, Chloe. I thought she was you.” I didn’t get angry. I just scoffed. “Thought she was me? Since when do I wear ruffled skirts and thigh-high white stockings to work?” A couple of colleagues walking by the car saw the whole thing and let out awkward coughs. Mia’s face flushed red, and Ethan opened his mouth to make another excuse. I didn’t want to hear it. I pulled the door open, got out, and hopped into another colleague’s car instead. When we arrived at the gala venue, Ethan dragged Mia over to apologize to me. “Chloe, I really didn’t mean to do that earlier. Just be the bigger person. Why are you getting jealous over an intern? You know you’re the only one in my heart.” “Yeah, Chloe,” Mia chimed in, her voice dripping with fake sweetness. “Ethan has loved you for three years. There’s no need to pick a fight over something so small. It’s all my fault anyway. If only I didn’t get carsick, you wouldn’t be mad.” She sounded like she was apologizing, but she was actually pouring gasoline on the fire. I ignored them both completely. I walked straight to the bar, grabbed a glass of champagne, and went to greet our clients. Just as I was having a great conversation with them, Mia popped up again. Her voice was laced with passive-aggressive jealousy. “Chloe… I’m so jealous of you. You’re so good at drinking with clients and making them happy.” “Unlike me. My face gets red the moment I sip alcohol. I can only drink this strawberry milk.” Mia held a baby-bottle cup with both hands, batting her eyelashes at me. “But Ethan is so sweet and thoughtful. He actually prepared this strawberry milk for me beforehand.” Some of the younger colleagues started whispering and giggling. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think she was Ethan’s girlfriend. I gave a tight, fake smile and addressed the room. “Don’t get the wrong idea, guys. Ethan would never date a dummy.” “He and I have been together for three years, and we’re actually planning to get married in two years.” I said it on purpose, setting up the perfect stage to slap this toxic couple in the face. Mia’s face turned pale. She quickly tried to save face. “I am indeed very clumsy. When you go up to give your speech later, Chloe, I’m going to livestream it. I need to study your speech frame by frame to learn how to make clients happy.” I clenched my jaw to keep from cursing her out. Mia was deliberately implying that I only got promoted by drinking with men, completely dismissing all my hard work. Ethan smiled warmly, leaning in to pat Mia’s head affectionately. “Mia, you’re not dumb. You’re just new to the professional world.” Then, he turned to me with a frown. “Chloe, as her mentor, is it really necessary to target her like this? It’s pathetic.” Mia gave a shy, triumphant smile. I swallowed down the urge to throw up, glared at him, and snapped, “She’s not just inexperienced, Ethan. She’s an idiot.” “And you, Ethan—acting this close to an intern right in front of your girlfriend? Anyone would think you two are sleeping together.” Honestly, Mia was actually a year older than me. She had just started college late and graduated after me. Both Ethan and Mia’s faces turned bright red with rage. Taking my temporary victory, I walked straight toward the stage. The show was about to begin. *** **Chapter 3** Mia immediately raised her phone, starting a TikTok live stream pointed at me. Suddenly, she called out loudly. “Chloe, people say that a company’s top sales rep doesn’t get there by talent, but by selling their body. Do you agree with that?” My expression hardened. The entire room went dead silent. Even Ethan frowned a little, but Mia was too drunk on her own boldness to stop. “Oh, please don’t be mad! I was just asking. I mean, you’ve signed so many massive contracts. How exactly do you please those clients? Surely it’s not just through drinking, right?” Mr. Jenkins, one of our key clients, couldn’t take it anymore. He stood up for me. “Miss Miller signed those contracts through sheer talent and hard work.” He glared at our company’s management. “What kind of people are you hiring these days? If she’s incompetent at her job, does she just resort to dragging down her colleagues?” Mia stomped her foot in frustration. She pointed aggressively at Mr. Jenkins. “Shut up! I literally saw Chloe getting out of your car last week looking completely disheveled!” Mr. Jenkins’ face went completely black. His voice shook with rage. “Watch your mouth, young lady! Chloe and I weren’t the only ones in the car that day. There was also—” “I don’t want to hear it! You’re just making excuses!” Mia shrieked, cutting him off. Mr. Jenkins slammed his glass onto the table. Mr. Sterling, the department manager, rushed over to calm Mr. Jenkins down. “Sir, please, that’s my daughter. She’s young and foolish. Please don’t take her words to heart.” Mr. Sterling poured him a drink, but Mr. Jenkins pushed it away with a cold snort. “If it weren’t for Chloe’s dedication and professionalism, I would have canceled our contract last week! My wife and I have been happily married for years. I will not have some brat spreading lies about us!” Mr. Sterling kept bowing and nodding, dragging Mia over to force her to apologize. I knew Mia was lying. There had been three other people in the car that day. But before I could speak, the crowd of colleagues began whispering. “Maybe Mia is right. Chloe’s career has been way too smooth. Every tough contract she touches gets signed.” “Yeah, remember that notoriously difficult client, Mr. Davis? Everyone knows he’s a sleaze, and Chloe has a great body. Maybe she really did…” “Who knows? Honestly, it seems pretty likely.” Hearing their whispers, my fingers clenched into tight fists. Everyone was looking at me like they were watching a circus show, waiting for my downfall. Even Ethan, my boyfriend of three years, stood there in silence, refusing to say a word in my defense. Mia gasped softly into her phone. “Chloe, is your silence a confession? The ten thousand people in my live stream are dragging you so hard right now. The comments are so brutal.” Meeting the mocking gazes of the crowd, I didn’t panic. Instead, I calmly spoke into the microphone. “Mia, are you questioning the competence of the board of directors?” “Every single project proposal I completed was approved by the board. And as for Mr. Davis, whom you all just mentioned, the CEO herself accompanied me to that meeting. She can testify for me.” “Are you saying the projects I stayed up all night working on—projects our CEO approved—are trash? Are you questioning our CEO’s judgment?” Mia didn’t expect me to bring the CEO into this. Her face turned pale instantly. Ethan quickly stepped in front of Mia, glaring at me. “Chloe, if you’re going to give your speech, do it. Stop wasting everyone’s time!” “Mia is just a kid. She speaks her mind. She doesn’t have your devious, calculating brain.” I suppressed my rage, grabbed the microphone, and prepared to speak. “Wait!” Mia interrupted loudly. “Why aren’t you projecting your slides?” I looked at her calmly. “I don’t need slides. I memorized it.” Mia panicked. “But slides are mandatory! I already copied them onto your USB drive for you!” “Chloe, surely you don’t think being the top sales rep makes you above the rules? If you didn’t prepare them, just say so. Lying is pathetic.” The person mocking me from the crowd was Lucas, my former apprentice. Once, Mia had replaced the company stamp on a contract he drafted with a cat paw print, almost getting him fired. I was the one who pulled strings and saved his job. And now, he was siding with Mia to bring me down. I felt a cold chill run through my heart. I sneered. “Fine, let’s play the slides. I actually did prepare them.” “Mia, why don’t you come up here and stand next to me to help me click through them?” Hearing this, Mia’s eyes lit up. She exchanged a quick, triumphant look with Ethan and happily strutted onto the stage. But the next second, as the projector lit up the massive screen, the entire room erupted. When Mia turned around and saw the screen, her eyes widened in absolute horror. “Turn it off! Turn it off right now!”

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On the day Ethan Carter’s first love returned to the country, he handed me a dissolution agreement. “Seraphina’s health is fragile. She suffered a lot in Europe because of me. I need you to pack up and move out of the Carter Estate. The Southside Villa is yours.” “From now on, we’ll tell the public you’re just a distant relative the Carters took in.” I stared at him. Five years of devotion, all boiled down to the words “distant relative.” I tore the agreement to shreds, turned around, and walked out of his life. Later, at the International Tech Summit, a mysterious female CEO stunned the world with a revolutionary technology. Under the blinding spotlights, Ethan stared at the brilliant tech mogul standing shoulder-to-shoulder with me. His eyes were bloodshot as he begged, “Vivian, please, come home with me!” I wrapped my arm around my new partner’s, giving Ethan a cold, detached smile. “Mr. Carter, there’s no room for you on my ‘distant relative’ list.” *** I sat in the grand living room of the Carter Estate, watching the maids quickly take down my photos. In their place, they hung portraits of Seraphina Sterling in her youth, smiling like an angel in the Carter gardens. My phone buzzed. It was a text from Ethan’s assistant, Julian: *“Mr. Carter and Ms. Sterling have landed. Expected arrival at the estate in 40 minutes.”* Seraphina was actually back. Forty minutes later, Ethan’s tall figure appeared at the door. I hadn’t seen him in weeks, and his cold, commanding aura seemed even more intimidating than before. Clinging to his arm was Seraphina, the woman who had vanished five years ago, now looking more radiant than ever. “Vivian, thank you for holding down the fort.” Ethan’s tone was polite, yet completely detached. He didn’t even let his gaze linger on me before turning back to look at Seraphina with pure tenderness. I stood up, keeping a polite, poised smile on my face—the smile expected of the “almost-Mrs. Carter.” “Ethan, Seraphina. Welcome home.” Seraphina gave a soft, sweet smile. Her eyes swept over the living room before landing on me. “So, this is Vivian? You’ve grown so beautiful. But…” She paused, her tone laced with a perfect touch of pity. “I heard you’ve been living with the Carters for the past five years? Ethan has been so busy. It’s a good thing his mother had you to keep her company.” With a single sentence, she effortlessly reduced my five years of devotion to that of a live-in nanny. Ethan’s brow furrowed slightly, but he didn’t correct her. He only said flatly, “My mother has always been fond of Vivian.” The welcome dinner, which was practically a public declaration of Seraphina’s reclamation of her throne, proceeded in a suffocating atmosphere. New York’s elite shamelessly crowded around Ethan and Seraphina. The story of their childhood romance was retold over and over, as if my five years of existence were nothing but an irrelevant typo in Ethan’s life story. I watched my fiancé cut Seraphina’s steak, his eyes filled with a gentle devotion I had never once received. For five years, I had stood by his side through Carter Enterprises’ worst financial crises. I had handled his family’s messy affairs, comforted his difficult mother, and kept a warm meal waiting for him late into the night… As it turned out, none of it could compare to a single frown from his first love. Once the guests finally left. Without looking at me, Ethan walked straight toward his study. “Vivian, in here.” His voice left no room for argument. Inside the study. Ethan stood with his back to me, staring out of the massive floor-to-ceiling window. After a long silence, he turned and pushed a document across the desk toward me. “Sign it.” My eyes fell on the title: *Southside Villa Deed Transfer and Identity Settlement Agreement.* “Ethan… what is this supposed to mean?” I still held onto a tiny, foolish shred of hope. He finally looked at me. “Seraphina is back.” His voice was as calm as if he were discussing the weather. “Years ago, she had to leave everything behind and go abroad because of me. Her health was ruined because of the stress. She has suffered enough.” “And?” My nails dug deep into my palms. “The Carters and the Sterlings have generations of history. Seraphina is the sole heiress to the Sterling Group. Her status and everything she went through mean I have to marry her. I owe her the grandest wedding and her rightful place by my side.” “Vivian, you’ve done well these past five years, and I’m grateful. But you know your background… You don’t have the pedigree to be the matriarch of the Carter family.” Every word was a sharp blade, slicing through the dignity and love I had carefully guarded for five years. So, all my sacrifices were completely worthless in the face of my “background.” “This agreement is your compensation.” He tapped the document. “The Southside Villa will be transferred to your name. Additionally, the agreement states that you are a distant relative the Carter family took in years ago after a family tragedy. It will prevent any unnecessary gossip.” He paused, adding, “It’s the best arrangement for everyone.” “Haha…” I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. With a single sentence, he wanted to erase our five-year engagement. To turn me from his fiancée into some charity case he kept hidden away to “save face”? “Ethan Carter,” I took a deep breath, looking him dead in the eye. “I am not a bird you can lock in a golden cage, and I sure as hell don’t need to play the role of a pity-case relative to survive!” I grabbed the agreement and ripped it in half, then tore it again and again until the shredded paper scattered like snow on the floor. “We are over. The engagement is off.” — #### Chapter 2 Ethan’s face cracked, showing actual shock for the first time. He took a few predatory steps forward, his towering frame casting a suffocating shadow over me. He grabbed my wrist, his grip so tight it felt like he might crush my bones. “Vivian! Don’t be ungrateful!” he growled, his eyes flashing like daggers. “Do you honestly think you can survive in New York without the Carter name? You’re an orphan with absolutely no backing. Without the title of my fiancée, you are nothing! How are you going to support yourself? With those pathetic design drafts of yours?!” His eyes flared with cold anger. “You’re just throwing a tantrum! Sign the agreement, go to the Southside Villa, and the Carters will make sure you’re taken care of! Once you calm down, you’ll realize I’m doing this for your own good!” For my own good? Stripping me of my title and locking me away as a “distant relative” was for my own good? I looked at the face I had loved so desperately, now finding it utterly repulsive. “Ethan,” I wrenched my wrist from his grip and stood tall. “We are done. I don’t want your money, your status, or your toxic family.” “As for how I’ll survive?” “You’ll find out soon enough. And I promise you, I will never regret this!” Without giving him another second of my time, I turned on my heel and walked out. Right outside the study door, Seraphina was leaning against the wall. We locked eyes for a split second before I brushed right past her. I didn’t miss the smug, victorious smirk on her face, but it didn’t matter to me anymore. Returning to the guest suite that had been my temporary room, I realized this place had never truly been a home. When I started packing, I realized how little I actually owned. Over the last five years, Ethan had gifted me expensive jewelry and designer clothes, but I had rarely worn them. They always felt like heavy armor that didn’t belong to me. Right now, they just felt like a silent joke. I opened the closet, ignoring the luxury brands, and grabbed a worn suitcase from the very back. Inside, I packed a few sentimental clothes from my college days, my digital drawing tablet, and most importantly, my thick, weathered design sketchbooks. I also packed a small velvet box. Inside lay a simple platinum band. It was the ring Ethan had given me when Carter Enterprises was facing its worst financial crisis, using a soda tab to propose in his chaotic office. He had said, *”Vivian, I’m sorry this is all I can give you now. Once things get better, I promise to give you the biggest diamond and the most lavish wedding.”* Well, the diamond never came. Only a cold “distant relative” agreement. In less than twenty minutes, every trace of Vivian Miller was packed into that single suitcase. No lingering, no hesitation. The head butler, Thomas, stood by the front door, looking deeply troubled. “Miss Miller… are you really… surely Mr. Carter didn’t mean…” He obviously thought Ethan had just spoken in anger. “Thank you for looking after me all these years, Thomas,” I said with a gentle nod. “I’m leaving. Take care.” Behind me lay five years of wasted devotion. Ahead of me was an uncertain path, but it was mine alone. Ethan stood by the study window, a half-burnt cigarette between his fingers, his dark eyes watching the slender figure wheeling a small suitcase down the long driveway. The moonlight cast a cold, sharp silhouette around her, making her look incredibly resolute. Annoyed, he crushed the cigarette into the crystal ashtray. He pulled out his phone and called Julian. “Is she gone?” “Yes, Mr. Carter. Miss Miller only took her personal clothes and design sketchbooks. She didn’t touch any of the valuables,” Julian reported meticulously. “Hmph.” Ethan let out a cold, cynical laugh, confirming his own arrogant theory. “She has no idea how cruel the real world is. Keep an eye on her. Let her struggle a bit and face some rejection. She’ll quickly realize who she actually needs to rely on.” He was absolutely certain that Vivian’s minor talent in design would never survive New York’s cutthroat market without his backing. Without him, she wouldn’t last a week. “Also,” he paused, his voice returning to its cold, corporate tone. “Announce my engagement to Seraphina to the press. Make it fast, and make it grand. And contact a few major outlets. Leak a story about how ‘the generous Carter family is providing a luxurious life and financial security to a distant relative they took in years ago.’” He was going to completely erase Vivian’s name from his future, sealing her fate as a mere footnote. “Understood, Mr. Carter.” — #### Chapter 3 A few days later, New York’s high society was rocked by a massive headline: *Ethan Carter, CEO of Carter Enterprises, to marry Seraphina Sterling next month in a lavish ceremony!* The media showered the couple with endless praise. It was as if Vivian Miller, the low-key fiancé who had stood by his side for five years, had never existed. Whenever any curious whispers popped up, they were instantly drowned out by press releases praising the “charitable Carter family for supporting their distant relative.” Meanwhile, in a quiet, slightly run-down but spotless studio apartment in Brooklyn. The space was small and simple, but golden sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating the desk. A thick sketchbook lay open, surrounded by fresh concept drafts. I sat at the desk, my stylus flying across the digital tablet, my eyes completely locked in. This chaotic, ordinary neighborhood gave me a sense of peace and reality I hadn’t felt in years. Leaving Ethan wasn’t an impulsive tantrum. Even while playing the role of his perfect fiancé, I had never given up on my dream of becoming a designer. It was just that Ethan hated me being in the public eye, and he especially despised me taking on “low-class” commercial projects. My work had been locked away in drawers, or published anonymously in small indie forums. What Ethan didn’t know was that I had stayed in touch with Ignite Studio, an independent design house. The founder, Leo Harrison, was a senior from my college days—a man who actually understood art and fought for independent creators. My phone buzzed. Leo’s name popped up on FaceTime. “Vivian, are you settled in?” Leo’s warm, direct voice came through, filled with concern. “I saw the news. What a piece of work! A distant relative? How did he even come up with that lie? Are you okay?” “I’m fine, Leo. Better than fine,” I laughed, feeling a genuine wave of relief. “Honestly, I’ve never felt lighter.” “Good!” Leo let out a breath. “Your spot at Ignite Studio has always been waiting for you. And honestly, the timing is perfect!” His voice filled with excitement. “The ‘Aura of Tomorrow’ International Design Awards just opened submissions! The deadline is in one month. This is a blind-review platform. No family names, no status—only pure talent! Vivian, I know you have the portfolio. It’s time to let the world see what you can do!” My heart skipped a beat. The “Aura of Tomorrow” was one of the most prestigious design competitions in the world, a place where unknown designers could become stars overnight. All the concepts in my sketchbooks—the ones Ethan had called “amateur”—finally had a chance to breathe! “I’m in!” I said without a single second of hesitation, my eyes burning with determination. “Send me the guidelines, Leo. I’m submitting under my real name—Vivian Miller!” “Hell yes!” Leo cheered, slamming his hand on his desk over the call. “I’ll email it to you right now! Let me know whatever you need. Bring out your absolute best, your most ‘Vivian’ work! Let’s show those arrogant snobs what they threw away!” Hanging up, I took a deep breath, my eyes landing on a chaotic but incredibly powerful concept sketch on the latest page of my sketchbook. The lines were sharp, the structure futuristic, yet it carried the powerful theme of rising from the ashes. I had drawn it unconsciously in a state of absolute heartbreak the night Ethan handed me that insulting agreement. At the time, it felt like a chaotic mess, but looking at it now, it looked like a wildfire waiting to erupt. “I’ll call it… *The Phoenix*,” I whispered, tracing the lines with my finger. It was no longer just a useless doodle. It was my manifesto. My new beginning. Over the next few weeks, I worked like a woman possessed, refining every detail of the design. Meanwhile, details of Ethan and Seraphina’s wedding prep dominated the media. Stories about their custom-designed, multi-million-dollar diamond rings flooded the internet. At Carter Enterprises, Seraphina began acting like the future boss, inserting herself into corporate projects. One afternoon, Ethan was sitting in his penthouse office, looking over a design proposal from one of his subsidiary firms for the upcoming “NextGen Smart Living” tech competition. He flipped through the pages carelessly until his eyes caught a name on the contestant list.

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On the day we moved into our new apartment, the technician told us that the smart lock could only register four master fingerprints. Dad registered his. Mom registered hers. My brother, Brandon, registered his. Even Brandon’s girlfriend of six months, Ashley, got her fingerprint registered. When it was finally my turn, Mom shut the door in my face. “You live on campus anyway. You barely come home, so there’s no need for you to have access.” On the first day of winter break, I took three different greyhound buses and finally made it back to this “new home” late at night. The lock screen kept flashing red. I pressed the doorbell until the battery died. I called every single one of them, but my calls were repeatedly hung up. I sat in the cold, dark stairwell until sunrise. Only later did I find out that they had taken Brandon’s girlfriend out to a fancy restaurant to celebrate purchasing the new place. When Mom finally came back and saw me, her only reaction was irritation. “You’re bringing us bad luck, crouching at the doorstep like a beggar.” A month later, Dad had a severe asthma attack at home. Standing outside the door, I could hear his weak, desperate cries for help. “Help… open the door… medicine… on the coffee table…” The building superintendent urged me to hurry up and open the door. But…I didn’t have a registered fingerprint.

The sound of something heavy crashing to the floor echoed from inside. Marcus, the superintendent standing beside me, was sweating bullets. “Chloe, hurry up and open the door! What are you waiting for?” “I don’t have a registered fingerprint.” “Look.” I pressed my hand against the black scanner. The red light flashed three times. *Access Denied.* Marcus gasped, frantically pounding on the door. “Arthur! Arthur! Can you hear me?” No response. Suddenly, my phone buzzed. It was Dad. His voice came through the speaker, gasping and disconnected. “Medicine… TV stand… Chloe…” The next second, the line went dead. He didn’t hang up. Either his phone had run out of battery, or it had dropped and shattered on the floor. Marcus looked at me, his voice trembling. “Call 911. Call the paramedics and a locksmith. Now!” As I dialed 911, footsteps echoed down the hallway. A neighbor poked her head out, asking if everything was okay. Marcus grabbed his toolbox, asking, “Who else in your family has access?” “My mom, my brother, and his girlfriend.” “Call them! Every single one of them!” I called my mother, Sarah. It rang until it went to voicemail. I called my brother, Brandon. No answer. I called his girlfriend, Ashley. She hung up on me, but sent a quick text on Snapchat: *Chloe, stop making a scene. We’re having dinner.* Looking at the words “stop making a scene,” my hands and feet went completely numb. Marcus called three different locksmiths. The first said it was too late to come out. The second said the homeowner had to be present. The third, hearing that it was a medical emergency, finally agreed to come in twenty minutes. Twenty minutes. The man inside might not even have twenty seconds. Marcus raised a crowbar, looking at me. “Do we break it?” “Do it.” Just as I spoke, Mom’s callback came through. The background was loud. People were singing and laughing. “Chloe, what is wrong with you? Why are you calling like crazy in the middle of the night?” “Dad’s having an asthma attack. The door is locked.” There was a second of silence on the other end. Then, her voice shrieked, “The medicine is right under the TV stand! Can’t you just open the door and get it?” “I don’t have a registered fingerprint.” The line went quiet. Then, Brandon’s voice cut in, annoyed. “Stop playing victim, Chloe. Isn’t the passcode your birthday?” “The passcode was changed a long time ago.” “Who changed it?” Silence. No one answered. In the background, I heard Ashley murmur softly, “We’re celebrating our new apartment today. This is so depressing.” Her voice was crystal clear through the receiver. Marcus snatched the phone from my hand and screamed into it, “Your husband is dying in there! Get your asses back here right now!” Mom finally seemed to realize the gravity of the situation. Her voice shook, but she still directed her fury at me. “You stay right at that door! Don’t touch anything! If anything happens to your father, I will make you pay!” Just as the crowbar wedged into the door frame, the firefighters arrived. The locksmith ran up the stairs, panting. They crowded around the door, working in a frenzy. The smart lock’s alarm shrieked in high-pitched bursts. I was shoved to the corner, my back pressed against the cold hallway tile. When the door finally flew open, the living room lights were blazing. Dad was collapsed next to the coffee table, his right hand stretched toward the TV stand. His fingertips were just inches away from the drawer. The paramedics immediately knelt down to perform CPR. Mom and the others still hadn’t arrived. The hallway echoed only with the paramedic’s urgent shouts. “Clear! Oxygen!” “Epinephrine!” “Keep compressing!” I stood just outside the entryway, my feet glued to the floor. The drawer under the TV stand was half-open. The white bottle of his inhaler peeked through the gap. As they lifted Dad onto the stretcher, the medicine bottle rolled out of the drawer. It rolled across the hardwood floor and stopped right against my shoe.

The red light of the emergency room stayed on for forty-seven minutes. When Mom finally rushed in, her hair was disheveled. She was still clutching a leftover cake box from their celebration dinner. The sweet, sickening smell of whipped cream wafted from the box, making my stomach churn. “Where is your father?” “In surgery.” The moment the words left my mouth, a sharp slap stung my face. Everyone in the hallway turned to look. Mom’s palm was red. Her eyes were bloodshot. “Chloe, how could you be so heartless?” My ears rang. I had to lean against the wall to keep from falling. Brandon rushed forward and grabbed my collar, shaking me. “You were standing right at the door and did nothing? You just watched him die?!” Marcus quickly stepped in to pull him off me. “Brandon, stop blaming her! Chloe called 911, and she called the locksmith. She literally couldn’t get in because she didn’t have access!” “Then why didn’t she break the door?” “We did! We broke it, and the fire department had to help!” Mom glared at Marcus. “This is family business. Keep out of it!” Ashley stood behind Brandon, her eyes perfectly red with tears. “Chloe, I know you’ve always felt like your parents favored Brandon, but your dad was innocent. How could you take it out on him?” Her words were like a bucket of filthy water poured over my head. I stared at her. “You hung up on me.” She bit her lip. “I thought you were throwing another tantrum. How was I supposed to know it was real?” “I sent you a text saying Dad was having an attack.” “The restaurant was too loud. I didn’t see it.” Brandon sneered. “You always do this. Whenever something goes wrong, you blame everyone else.” The nurse pushed the double doors open. “We need a family member to sign the critical condition notice.” Mom’s knees buckled. Brandon and Ashley immediately caught her. Nobody looked at me. The nurse asked, “Who is the immediate next of kin?” “I am his wife.” Mom snatched the pen, her hand shaking violently. As she was about to sign, she suddenly stopped. She turned her tear-stained face toward me. “Chloe. Get on your knees.” The hallway fell dead silent. “Kneel in front of the operating room. Beg God to let him live.” My chest felt suffocated. Dad hadn’t been the perfect father. But he had carried me to the clinic when I was sick as a kid, and he had once secretly slipped a hundred dollars into my bag for college. Before I could speak, Brandon’s heavy hand slammed down on my shoulder, forcing me down. My knees hit the hard tile with a sickening crack. Tears of pain instantly welled in my eyes. Mom buried her face in her hands, sobbing. “Arthur, look at your precious daughter. She finally admits she was wrong.” Ashley knelt beside me, her voice sickeningly sweet. “Chloe, just apologize. Don’t make your mom suffer any more than she already is.” Apologize for what? For not having a fingerprint? For being locked out of my own home? For the four of them celebrating while leaving Dad alone to die? The doors swung open again. The doctor stepped out, taking off his mask. His face was a mask of exhaustion. “We did everything we could. I’m sorry.” Mom let out a piercing shriek and collapsed backward. Brandon grabbed the doctor’s coat. “How? Is it because she called too late? If he had gotten his medication earlier, would he have made it?” The doctor was silent for a moment. “It was a severe attack. But yes, with asthma, every second counts. The sooner the intervention, the higher the survival rate.” Brandon whipped around to look at me. His eyes looked like he had finally found his murderer. “Chloe.” Mom pushed herself up against the wall, walking toward me step by step. Her voice was like gravel. “You killed your father.” Inside the room, the white sheet was pulled over Dad’s face.

The funeral was scheduled for three days later. The living room was crowded with funeral wreaths. A black-and-white photo of Dad hung in the center. His smile in the photo was stiff—it was just an ID photo taken during his physical exam last year. All the relatives showed up. Aunt Linda walked in and immediately hugged Mom, weeping. “Sarah, Arthur’s passing was too sudden.” Mom cried so hard she could barely stand, but she didn’t forget to drag me in front of everyone. “Ask her! She stood right outside the door and refused to open it. She watched her own father suffocate to death!” Every eye in the room fell on me. Some held pity, some held disgust, and some held the cheap excitement of watching family drama. Aunt Linda wiped her tears and asked, “Chloe, is that true? You really didn’t open the door?” “I didn’t have a registered fingerprint, and I didn’t know the new passcode.” Cousin Jason chimed in. “What daughter doesn’t know her own house passcode? Your parents raised you for twenty years, stop making excuses.” Marcus came by that day too, holding a bouquet of white lilies. Hearing this, he frowned. “Their smart lock only had four registered users. Chloe wasn’t one of them. I was there that night. I can testify to that.” Mom immediately wailed louder. “If she didn’t have access, why didn’t she say so earlier? We raised her for twenty years, was I supposed to beg her to register her finger?” A bitter laugh escaped my throat. But the moment I laughed, Aunt Linda’s face hardened. “Your father just passed away, and you’re laughing?” Ashley, wearing a modest black dress, walked over with swollen eyes and held my arm. To anyone else, she looked like a grieving, caring future daughter-in-law. But her fingernails dug deep into my flesh. “Chloe, please stop triggering your mom.” “Let go of me.” “Just apologize, and let this whole thing go.” *Let it go?* Dad was lying in a cold drawer at the morgue, and I was still waking up in the middle of the night to the sound of pounding doors. And she wanted me to just “let it go.” Brandon walked out of the bedroom, slamming a piece of paper onto the coffee table. “Chloe. Sign this.” On it was a typed statement: *I, Chloe Miller, acknowledge that due to personal resentment, I intentionally delayed rescue efforts for my father, Arthur Miller. I agree to assume full responsibility for his funeral expenses, outstanding debts, and my mother’s future financial support.* The signature line at the bottom was blank. I looked up at him. “Are you insane?” Brandon’s face was livid. “You killed him. You don’t think you should pay for it?” Mom lunged forward, grabbing my hand. “Sign it! You have to sign it! If you don’t, I will go to your university and make sure everyone knows what a heartless monster you are!” My wrist was bruised red under her grip. Ashley took a pen from her bag and forced it into my palm. “Chloe, just sign. Your brother is under so much pressure with his mortgage, and your mom’s health is failing. When you make a mistake, you have to take responsibility.” They didn’t want an apology. They wanted a scapegoat to carry Dad’s debts, his funeral costs, and the burden of their future financial lives. As the tip of the pen touched the paper, a raspy voice echoed from the doorway. “Don’t you dare sign that.” Grandma Evelyn stood there, leaning heavily on her cane. Mom’s face fell when she saw her. “Mom, what are you doing here?” Grandma Evelyn ignored her, slowly walking over to me. She gently cupped my cheek. “Chloe, my poor child, does it hurt?” Those words broke the dam. The tears I had held back for three days finally spilled over. Mom’s face turned icy. “Why would she be hurting? It’s her father who’s dead.” Grandma Evelyn looked at the paper on the table, picked it up, and tore it in half right in front of all the relatives. Brandon lost his temper. “Grandma! Stop defending her!” Grandma Evelyn pointed her cane at him. “The four of you registered your fingers and locked her out. Now that Arthur is gone, you want to pin his death on her? Brandon, is this the kind of man your father raised you to be?” Brandon’s face went pale. Aunt Linda frowned. “But Evelyn, you can’t blame a smart lock for a tragedy like this.” Grandma Evelyn stared directly at Mom. “Sarah, do you dare deny that you were the one who refused to let Chloe register her fingerprint?” Mom’s lips trembled. She avoided her gaze. For the first time, the room went completely quiet. Right then, Ashley suddenly clutched her chest and collapsed onto the sofa. “Brandon… I feel so dizzy…” Everyone instantly crowded around her. Brandon held her in his arms, crying out, “Ashley! Don’t scare me like this! My dad just left, if anything happens to you, I don’t want to live either!” Mom screamed at me, “What are you standing there for? Go get her some water!” The torn pieces of the agreement lay on the floor, fluttering right against the tip of my shoe.

On the day of the funeral, it rained. The cemetery steps were slick. Mom was supported by Brandon the entire way. Ashley held a black umbrella, walking ahead, her shoulders shaking as she wept. The relatives whispered about how dutiful she was. “Such a tragedy before they even got married. Poor girl.” “Arthur really missed out on a good daughter-in-law.” When it was my turn to lay down a flower, Mom blocked me. “Don’t touch your father.” Rainwater dripped down the ribs of my umbrella onto my hand. The petals of the white rose in my hand were crushed. “I am his daughter.” Mom’s eyes were filled with pure venom. “He called you before he died, and you let him suffocate. You don’t deserve to stand here.” The crowd began to whisper. Aunt Linda tried to quiet her down. “Sarah, please, not today.” But Mom raised her voice even higher. “I’m not the one causing trouble, she is!” She whipped out a stack of medical bills and slammed them against my chest. “The funeral costs are $8,000. The burial plot is $25,000. Your father owed another $5,000 to relatives before he died. If you don’t pay your share today, don’t even think about leaving.” The paper, wet from the rain, clung to my coat. “I’m still a student.” Brandon scoffed. “So what? Don’t you get scholarships? Don’t you work part-time? You pay for your crimes, and you pay your debts.” Ashley added softly, “Chloe, Brandon and I have a mortgage to pay, and your mom only has us now. You can’t just think about yourself.” Every word she spoke was soft, yet every word shoved me closer to the edge. Aunt Linda sighed. “Chloe, your family is going through a hard time. Be reasonable. Don’t be selfish.” Grandma Evelyn stepped forward under her umbrella. “The law decides who inherits debt, not your loud mouths.” Mom snapped at Grandma Evelyn. “Shut up! If you hadn’t spoiled her so much back then, she wouldn’t have turned out this heartless!” Grandma Evelyn began to cough violently from anger. I reached out to support her, but Mom shoved me away. “Stop acting like you care!” Grandma Evelyn’s foot slipped on the wet steps. She began to fall backward. I lunged and managed to grab her, but my knees slammed heavily against the concrete steps. My umbrella rolled away, and the cold rain instantly soaked my hair. Grandma’s cane fell into the mud. Gasps erupted from the crowd. Mom froze for a fraction of a second, but quickly looked away. “Nice acting.” My knees burned with pain. My jeans were torn, and blood mixed with rainwater was running down my leg. Grandma held my hand, her lips pale with fury. “Sarah… you will regret this.” Mom laughed coldly. “The only thing I regret is giving birth to her.” Those words were colder than the rain. As Dad’s urn was lowered into the ground, Brandon, Ashley, and Mom stepped forward. When I tried to step up, Brandon blocked me. “You don’t have the right.” Grandma Evelyn finally snapped. She raised her hand and slapped Mom across the face. The loud *crack* echoed through the pouring rain. Mom clutched her cheek, her eyes wide with shock. “You hit me? For her?!” Grandma pointed her trembling cane at the grave. “If Arthur could wake up right now, the first thing he would ask is: Why didn’t Chloe have access to her own home?” Everyone’s faces changed. In front of the headstone, Mom suddenly screamed and lunged at me, clawing at my clothes.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “457590”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

I have mutism, but I wasn’t born with it. When I was five, I cried out that I was hungry. My foster mother locked me in an abandoned warehouse because of it. She told me I could come out when I learned to shut up. I never spoke another word after that. At eighteen, the wealthy Shaw family of New York found me. They told me I was their real daughter. But on my first night home, Chloe, the girl who had lived my life for eighteen years, started packing her bags with tearful eyes. “Are you hoping that if you stay silent, Mom and Dad will kick me out?” “If my leaving makes you happy, Maya, I’ll go right now!” I froze and raised my hands to sign: [No, I just can’t speak.] But no one understood sign language. Chloe bit her lip, tears spilling over. “I know you hate me for stealing eighteen years of your life. You can scream at me, hit me.” “But please, can you tell them not to discard me just because you’re back?” My brother, Julian, stepped in front of her and glared at me coldly. “Chloe is already begging you, Maya. How much further are you going to push her?” “Is it really that hard to just say something?” Everyone was waiting for me to speak. After a moment of silence, I pulled out my phone and slowly typed a line: “I’m sorry, but I haven’t spoken a word since I was five.” … ##

The living room fell dead silent. Mom was the first to snap out of it. She took a few steps toward me, her lips trembling. “What do you mean? What do you mean you haven’t spoken since you were five?” I raised my hands. I wanted to tell her that every time I tried to make a sound, that pitch-black warehouse would flash before my eyes. But she couldn’t read my hands. I could only lower my head and continue typing. “I can’t make any sound.” Julian frowned. “When we found you, your foster parents never mentioned this.” My fingers paused on the screen. The day the Shaws came for me, my foster mother, Brenda, had held my hand tightly. She had wept hysterically in front of everyone. She claimed she had raised me like her own biological daughter. She said she wanted no reward from the Shaws, only hoping I wouldn’t forget her. From beginning to end, she never asked me a single question. Because she knew very well that I couldn’t answer. Chloe suddenly set her suitcase down and walked over cautiously. “Maya, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you couldn’t speak.” “I must have misunderstood you just now and made you upset.” She reached out, trying to grab my wrist. The moment her hand touched my skin, I flinched and stepped back. Her eyes immediately welled with tears again. “Do you still hate me touching you?” Julian’s expression, which had softened for a second, turned cold again. “Maya, Chloe already apologized to you.” I looked at him and didn’t move. Mom placed a hand on Julian’s arm. “That’s enough. Today is Maya’s first day back. Don’t push her.” She wanted to touch my cheek, but her hand stopped halfway, as if she was afraid of startling me. In the end, she only gently adjusted my crooked collar. “Tomorrow, I’ll take you to the hospital. Whatever the reason is, we will cure it slowly.” I nodded. That night, for the first time in my life, I slept in a bed so soft. But I didn’t dare turn off the lights. In the middle of the night, whispered voices drifted from outside my door. “Julian, do you think she’s just pretending to be mute because she doesn’t want to call you guys family?” Chloe’s voice was very soft, laced with a quiet sob. Julian was silent for a while. “We’ll know after the doctor examines her.” “What if it’s true?” “Then we will definitely get her cured.” “And what if she’s lying?” “…” It went quiet outside the door. A moment later, Julian replied in a cold, detached voice: “The Shaw family has room for a sick daughter, but we have no room for a liar.” … The next day, Dr. Evans finished my examination and took off his stethoscope. “There is no structural damage to her vocal cords. Her mutism isn’t physiological.” “Based on her behavior, it is closer to psychogenic mutism caused by severe psychological trauma.” Mom’s face drained of color. “What kind of trauma could keep a child silent for thirteen years?” Dr. Evans glanced at the faded, pale scars on my wrists. “You’ll have to ask the people who raised her.” Standing by the door, Chloe’s expression froze. ##

My foster parents arrived that afternoon. The moment Brenda entered, she lunged at me, grabbing my shoulders and scanning me up and down. “Maya, why are you still playing mute?” “You’re back with your rich parents now. Why are you bringing those old tricks here?” Mom gasped. “Playing mute?” “This girl has been like this since she was a kid. Whenever she’s unhappy, she stops talking just to make everyone guess what’s on her mind.” Brenda wiped her non-existent tears, her words rushing out like a flood. “When she was five, she stole money from us. We scolded her a bit, and she threw a tantrum and refused to speak.” “Since then, whenever outsiders are around, she plays the miserable victim. But once we get home and discipline her, she speaks perfectly fine.” My entire body went rigid. No! That’s not how it happened! I didn’t steal any money when I was five. That day, my foster father got drunk and knocked over the last bits of food in the pantry. I was starving, so I went to the kitchen to ask Brenda when we could eat. She found my crying annoying, so she dragged me into the abandoned warehouse and locked me inside for two whole days. I signed frantically. [She is lying! She locked me up for two days. It was pitch black. No water, no food.] Brenda couldn’t understand me, but as if she had prepared for this, she threw her hands up and cried out to the room. “Look at her! This is exactly what she does!” “Every time she doesn’t want to admit she’s wrong, she makes these random gestures that nobody can understand, making herself look like a poor, abused victim.” Chloe asked softly, “Brenda, did Maya really speak in front of you?” “Of course she did!” “Has anyone else ever heard her besides you two?” Brenda hesitated for a fraction of a second, then slapped her thigh. “We lived together as a family every single day. Why would we need witnesses?” “Do you think we raised her for eighteen years just to maliciously frame her?” The pity on Mom’s face slowly turned into hesitation. My father, Arthur Shaw, remained silent for a long time. Finally, he looked at me and asked in a low voice, “Maya, are you willing to try calling me Dad?” I opened my mouth. But my throat felt like it was stuffed with dusty cotton. I couldn’t even force out a whisper. Julian stared at me. “You can’t call him, or you just don’t want to?” I pulled out my phone: “I really can’t.” Brenda sighed. “You all have to walk on eggshells around her from now on.” “She knows exactly how to manipulate people. The more attention you give her, the worse she gets.” Mom suddenly asked, “Then what about the scars on her wrists?” Brenda’s face tightened. “Kids in the countryside get bumps and bruises all the time. Isn’t that normal?” I quickly rolled up my sleeves. In addition to my wrists, there were circular scars from cigarette burns on the inner side of my arms, and white rope marks from being tied up. Brenda rushed forward and violently pulled my sleeves back down. “You silly girl, why are you stripping in front of everyone!” Mom’s eyes locked onto those scars, turning red instantly. As the tension peaked, Chloe suddenly clutched her chest, her breathing turning shallow and rapid as she collapsed onto the sofa. “Chloe!” Everyone rushed to her side. The family doctor examined her and said she was just suffering from hyperventilation due to extreme anxiety. It was nothing serious. Leaning against Mom’s chest, Chloe still didn’t forget to “defend” me. “It’s all my fault. I’m not mature enough.” “Maya must have suffered a lot in the past. That’s why she mistakes discipline for abuse.” With one sentence, she excused my foster parents’ abuse and turned my traumatic memories into exaggeration and revenge. Before leaving, Brenda walked past me and whispered in my ear: “Don’t think you can settle old scores just because you’re in the Shaw house. If you dare speak a word against us, I got them to bring you back, and I can get them to throw you right back to me.” That night, Mom told me she had hired a professional sign language teacher. “It’s okay if you don’t want to speak. You don’t have to change. We will learn to understand you.” For a moment, I thought that maybe coming back here wasn’t a bad thing. But outside the door, Chloe watched me silently for a very long time. ##

A week later, I transferred to the same private school Chloe attended. The teacher placed my desk right next to hers. “Chloe, your sister is new here and doesn’t know her way around. Take good care of her.” Chloe smiled and nodded. “Don’t worry, Ms. Davis. I’ll take great care of her.” And she did. When people curiously asked why I didn’t speak, Chloe would explain with teary eyes that I had suffered a lot growing up, asking them not to discriminate against me. Within a day, the entire class knew I was the biological daughter recently recovered by the Shaw family. They also knew that after my return, I had used my mutism to guilt-trip my parents, almost forcing their adopted daughter to run away from home. During lunch break, a group of girls gathered around my desk. A girl named Amber Kelly made a few random gestures with her hands and laughed. “I’ve learned some sign language. Can you understand this?” She had signed: [How many books did you eat today?] It was a completely meaningless sentence. Thinking she had made a mistake, I patiently corrected her, showing her that the signs for “book” and “food” were different. Amber stared at me for two seconds, then burst out laughing. “Chloe, she doesn’t even know sign language.” Everyone in the classroom looked over. Chloe acted surprised. “How is that possible? Maya always communicates with us using sign language at home.” “She’s signing complete gibberish. Her hand shapes and grammar are totally wrong.” Amber raised her phone, showing a few search results of sign language gestures on her screen. “My aunt is deaf. I’ve known sign language since I was a kid. Real sign language looks nothing like what she’s doing.” I quickly typed on my phone to explain: “ASL has regional dialects and informal signs. Your signs were incomplete.” Amber read it and sneered. “Got caught, and now you’re making excuses?” Whispers erupted around us. “Her foster parents said she could talk, right?” “Maybe she’s just trying to gain sympathy.” “The real daughter just got back, of course she wants to kick the adopted one out.” I looked at Chloe. She immediately grabbed my hand and shook her head at the others. “Don’t talk about my sister like that.” “Even if she can actually speak, she must have her own reasons for staying silent.” Her words sounded like a defense, but they only cemented the belief that I was faking it. … In the afternoon, I went to the main office to submit some paperwork. When I returned, my sign language notebook had been ripped to shreds and scattered in the trash can. Amber crossed her arms. “Don’t look at me. I didn’t do it.” I knelt down and picked up the pieces, one by one. That notebook was given to me by Granny Nora, a deaf neighbor, when I was six. Back then, everyone thought I was just being stubborn, but she was the only one who never forced me to speak. The first sign she taught me was “I’m hungry.” The second was “I did nothing wrong.” Chloe knelt down to help me pick up the paper, her tears falling first. “Maya, I’m so sorry. If it weren’t for me, they wouldn’t doubt you like this.” I looked up at her. She leaned in, whispering in a voice only I could hear: “Who do you think they’ll believe? A girl who can’t even speak a word, or the daughter who has been by their side for eighteen years?” Before the last class of the day, the teacher asked me to go to the office to hand in the rest of my transfer documents. Once the classroom was empty, Chloe took my phone and sent a Snapchat to my mother. “I’m having a hard time adjusting to school. There are some things I want to tell you in person.” “Can you guys come over after school?” After school ended, Chloe sent me a text on iMessage: “I found evidence of your foster mother admitting to abusing you. She’s terrified Mom and Dad will find out and wants me to delete it.” “If you want the evidence, come to the warehouse behind the auditorium.” I stared at the text for a long time. Ultimately, I went alone. ##

The warehouse door was slightly ajar. It was dark inside, with only a small window near the ceiling letting in a faint sliver of twilight. I stood at the entrance, hesitating. Chloe sent another message: “The evidence is on the old computer in the back. If you’re too scared to come in, I guess you don’t care about proving yourself.” I gripped my phone tightly and stepped inside. The corners were piled with old stage props and leftover paint cans. An old computer sat on a wooden desk. Its screen was lit, displaying a single audio file. The moment my hand touched the mouse, I heard a sharp click behind me. The door was locked. I rushed over and pounded on the door, but there was no response from the outside. The smell of paint thinner in the warehouse was overwhelming. As the darkness deepened, the memories of thirteen years ago flooded back. The five-year-old me, huddled next to a cardboard box, crying and begging for food. Outside the door, Brenda kicked the wooden panel impatiently. “Shut up! Cry again and you’ll stay in there forever!” I began to gasp for air. At the same time, Mom, Dad, and Julian arrived at the school. As they were heading toward my classroom, Chloe walked over from the direction of the auditorium, holding a stack of notebooks. Seeing them, she stopped in her tracks, a perfect expression of surprise on her face. “Mom, Dad, Julian? What are you doing here?” Mom showed her phone. “Maya asked us to come.” “She said she’s having trouble adjusting and wants to talk to us in person.” Chloe froze for a few seconds, and then, as if realizing something, her face went pale. “There’s something… I don’t know if I should show you.” She led the three of them into a private meeting room. After some hesitation, she pulled out an audio recording. “I found this by accident today when I was helping Maya grab her iPad.” “I was going to ask her about it when she got home, but I didn’t expect her to call you to school first.” In the recording, a young girl’s voice said clearly: “I’ll lock myself in the warehouse and pretend to have a panic attack. Then I’ll text them.” “Once they rush over to save me, they’ll believe my foster parents abused me.” “By then, nothing Chloe says will matter anymore.” Mom’s face went white. “Is that… Maya’s voice?” “I don’t know,” Chloe said, biting her lip. “I found it on her iPad.” “I wish it wasn’t her, but some kids at school said they’ve heard her talking in private.” Julian sneered. “No wonder she insisted on transferring to this school. She even picked out the warehouse in advance.” Right then, Mom’s phone buzzed. It was a text from me: “I’m locked in the warehouse behind the auditorium. Please, help me!” Mom stood up abruptly. “Whether it’s real or not, we have to go check!” But Chloe held her back. “Mom, if you go now, aren’t you falling right into her trap?” “She knows how much you care about her, so she keeps pushing your limits.” Dad frowned deeply, but instead of texting, he initiated a FaceTime call to my phone. I answered it immediately. The screen was dark. They could only see my pale, sweat-slicked face and my violently trembling hands. I signed to them desperately: [The door is locked from the outside.] [The paint smell is too strong. I can’t breathe.] [Please, hurry!] Julian stared at the screen, his face grim. “Maya, we already heard the recording.” “You went through all this trouble to lock yourself in just to see if we’d rescue you?” “Tell us where you are with your voice, and I’ll come get you right now.” “If you’re going to keep playing these hand-sign games that nobody can understand, then stay in there and think about what you’ve done!” I shook my head frantically. My fingers were shaking so hard I couldn’t even form the signs correctly anymore. [I’m not lying.] [The door is really locked.] [Mom, I’m scared.] Julian turned his head away in annoyance. Mom’s eyes were red. She reached for the phone several times, but the memory of that recording kept her paralyzed. “Maya, just say one word.” “Just say anything, and Mom will come get you!” I opened my mouth, pouring every ounce of strength I had left into my throat, but only a ragged, broken gasp came out. On their end, the door to the meeting room was suddenly pushed open. A middle-aged woman walked in. “Mrs. Shaw? I’m Ms. Miller, the sign language teacher you hired.” “I’m so sorry, the traffic was terrible.” “You texted me saying Maya was having communication issues at school and told me to meet you here directly.” The moment her eyes fell on the FaceTime screen, she froze. In the next second, she snatched the phone out of Mom’s hand and stared intently at my gestures and the dark background. “Where is this child?!” Chloe’s expression flickered. “She’s just throwing a tantrum with the family…” Ms. Miller snapped her head up, her face dead serious. “She is using highly fluent, natural ASL!” “She’s saying the door is locked from the outside, the warehouse has toxic chemical fumes, and she is suffocating!” “Her last sign wasn’t a tantrum!” Ms. Miller spun the screen toward them. On the screen, I had already slid down the wall onto the floor. My fingers were unconsciously repeating the same trembling gesture over and over. “She is crying for her mother!”

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