Author: Momo Chan

It was the third year since I broke up with Ryan, and I returned to the States brimming with a fierce determination for revenge. But to my surprise, Ryan had completely vanished from the city of Fairview. I thought I would never see him again, until, while visiting my uncle at the mental health hospital, I heard a nurse call out: “Ryan Shaw, come take your medicine.” My steps faltered. As if drawn by an invisible thread, I turned back and saw Ryan sitting on a hospital bed, his face stretched into a goofy, childlike smile. I felt as if I’d been struck by lightning. I never thought I would reunite with him in a place like this. 1 For the three years I was exiled, I dared not slack off or stop for a single moment—all to return with enough power to crush the Shaws and send Ryan to hell. When I finally returned to Fairview, Ryan had vanished like smoke. I scoured every alley, every shadow, but the city swallowed him whole. Just as despair clawed at me, a nurse’s voice pierced through the sterile hospital air — “Ryan Shaw.” My steps halted. “Ryan Shaw, come take your medicine.” My heartstrings tightened. I instinctively turned, stepping back a few paces, and there he was: sitting on a hospital bed, my ex, Ryan, the man I wished I could slice into a thousand pieces! He was smiling foolishly, innocently. “…” In that moment, I felt like I’d been struck by lightning. Before I could even react, I saw Ryan pull a ring from his pocket and place it in front of the nurse, his face beaming with pride. “It’s for Riley.” I recognized that ring. Years ago, Ryan, the heir apparent to the Shaw family, fell in love with a humble, ordinary girl. His mother spoke to the girl, telling her to be sensible and leave her son. The girl, her pride as high as the sky, began to waver. Ryan suddenly arrived, took her hand, and declared firmly, “I won’t leave Riley.” Ryan tossed his wallet and phone onto the table, his stance clear. “I’m willing to give up my inheritance of the Shaw family. Please, Mother, don’t make things difficult for the one I love.” Later. The Shaw family’s golden boy gave up everything for love, moving with the girl into a damp, dark fifteen-square-meter basement apartment. It was perpetually damp and dim, but those were the happiest times for the girl. She tried to grow like a wild weed, even in such adversity, hoping to build a good life with the man she loved. Even if it wasn’t lavish, at least they would escape that perpetually sunless basement. And Ryan. He showed no trace of the spoiled arrogance of a rich young master. For the one he loved, even when facing setbacks at work, he was willing to carry bricks at construction sites, to wash dishes in restaurants. He worked twelve hours a day, saving his first bit of money. With it, he bought this ring. He held the ring, his eyes reddening, like a puppy waiting to be taken home by its owner, and asked the girl: “Riley, will you be with me, a man with no special talents, but willing to work hard?” The girl stood by the bed in the basement, tears streaming down her face. Her eyes red-rimmed, she nodded frantically, “Yes, I will.” She told Ryan with all her might, “Yes, I will. Yes, I will!” That day was the happiest day in her bleak life, and the most complete day she had ever felt as an orphan. She gave her all, completely merging with the man she loved. She finally felt whole. She woke up in the arms of the man she loved, and just looking at that ring made her feel so happy. But happiness was too short. Now. Three years later. Reunited. Everything had changed. I stood outside the hospital room, watching Ryan lovingly cradle the ring as if it were a precious treasure. Under the nurse’s coaxing, he earnestly asked her, ” If I take these pills… will Riley come back to me?” His voice trembled, fragile as the hope he clung to. But I wouldn’t fall for it again. Watching Ryan’s extraordinary acting, it was hard not to believe he was setting another trap for me. I smiled and walked into the hospital room, raising my hand to take the ring from Ryan’s grasp, sliding it onto my ring finger, and raising an eyebrow at him. “Ryan, what are you playing at?” 2 Three years ago. Ryan personally forced me to leave the country, looking down at me with an arrogant demeanor, uttering the words: “Skylar Olsen, playing seriously with me? You’re not worthy.” He smiled cruelly. “Someone like you, from the slums, only wants to use my status to cross social classes.” He sneered. “Now, I’m tired of playing. You don’t need to be in the country, bothering my eyes.” Back then. I simply couldn’t believe that was Ryan. I cried, begging him not to drive me away. I even shamelessly pressed him, “Is someone forcing you?” I thought of the Shaw family and, with red eyes, demanded, “Is it your mother? Is she forcing you to say these things?” I frantically grabbed Ryan’s hand, placing it on my lower abdomen, crying as I told him, “Ryan, we’re having a baby. We’re having a baby, Ryan.” I thought Ryan would love that child. That’s why his expression softened, why his eyes involuntarily grew tender, why his body stiffened as he instinctively looked at my still-flat belly. But the next second, my dream completely shattered. Ryan, utterly disregarding our past affection, spoke in a cold, indifferent voice from above my head. It was he who said: “Bearing a Shaw child? You’re not worthy.” Ryan violently shoved me away. I fell to the ground, staring at him in disbelief, as he ordered the bodyguards beside him, “Don’t let her leave with the child. It will become a liability.” I cried out Ryan’s name, desperately crawling towards him. But he didn’t look back, letting the bodyguards drag me to the hospital. Despite my fierce struggles, I was no match for the burly guards, who pinned me to the hospital bed and administered anesthesia. Before losing consciousness completely, I thought I saw Ryan glance at me in a panic. But I wouldn’t believe it again. Liar. As my eyes closed, I thought, Ryan, we are over. When we meet again, it will be either your death or mine. So, I looked at the perfectly fitting ring on my ring finger, then back at Ryan on the hospital bed. “You heard I was back in the country, so you hid in a mental hospital?” I raised an eyebrow, smiling. “Mr. Shaw, you really are—” I eyed him from head to toe. “—flexible, aren’t you?” I scoffed. “What a shame.” My gaze hardened. “Even if you hide here,” I pressed my fingers into Ryan’s neck, “what you owe me, you still have to pay.” Ryan’s bewildered eyes were filled with my domineering reflection. I saw my own reflection, and the next second, as Ryan’s eyes narrowed slightly, it fragmented into confusion. My hand was suddenly seized by Ryan. He gripped my wrist tightly, then called my name in a soft voice. “Riley.” His voice was gentle, no different from the boy who had lived in the basement and swore to love me forever. “Are you here to take me home?” Ryan smiled, his eyes crinkling. “I’ve waited for you for so long. Have you finally come to take me?” I looked at Ryan, so innocent and bewildered, and my impulse to strangle him sharply diminished. I instinctively took a step back. I saw the nurse step in front of him, treating me like a dangerous beast. “Miss, Mr. Shaw is currently not of sound mind. Please do not take advantage of his condition.” The moment the nurse finished speaking. Ryan peeked his head out from behind her. “Riley, she’s Riley.” Ryan seemed very happy. He pushed the nurse aside and explained for me, “She’s the best Riley in the whole world.” 3 I was startled by Ryan’s sudden change in behavior, still unwilling to believe that the Shaw family’s young master, who had once manipulated me so easily, had become like this. I suddenly felt an urge to flee. I didn’t want to stay here for a second longer. I pushed Ryan away with force. Seeing his face twisted in hurt, I pulled the ring from my finger and threw it at his face. “You’re not worthy!” Each word was enunciated clearly. “To receive my true heart! You’re not worthy!” I watched Ryan, like a wounded puppy, looking at me with pitiful eyes. I turned and walked away without a second glance. Before I reached the door, Ryan caught up to me. He grabbed my wrist, looking bewildered and wronged. “Riley, don’t be upset. It’s my fault.” His deliberately softened posture created an illusion of time warping, the young man before me overlapping with the boy from years ago. I remembered the first time I discovered Ryan working at a construction site, moving bricks. He had been maliciously targeted, fell from the second floor, and cut his head, but he tried to hide it from me, saying he accidentally bumped it. When I found out, I was furious. He also pulled at me, looking wronged, and said, “Riley, don’t be angry. I was wrong, it’s my fault.” Back then, I looked at Ryan and felt a pain in my heart so intense I could barely breathe. Ryan was the golden boy, born with a silver spoon. He could have lived a life of luxury, yet I, living in the mud, had dragged him down from the clouds. I cried uncontrollably, not just out of heartache, but a heavy sense of guilt. I cried and asked Ryan if I should let him go, let him return to his original life path. I cried, saying I had dragged him down, but even if I had dragged him down, I still loved him so much. I still couldn’t let him go. I cried hysterically in Ryan’s arms. In the end, it was Ryan who consoled me, saying, “Wherever Riley is, that’s my home.” He gently kissed away my tears, his eyes filled with deep affection. “Wherever Riley is, I’ll be there. So, stop talking nonsense. Don’t make me a wanderer. Only with you can Ryan truly be Ryan.” Such a good Ryan, such a heartbreaking Ryan, such a beloved Ryan – it was all a lie. How much of this Ryan was real? I pushed Ryan away with force, stepping back a few paces, warning him, “Don’t come near me!” I kept my voice flat, suppressing the tumultuous emotions in my heart. “Ryan, I don’t care if you’re faking mental illness or playing dumb. It won’t work on me.” My gaze turned cold, just as cruel as he had been to me three years ago. “I’m telling you, I came back for only one purpose: to make your Shaw family pay for my unborn child!” I turned to leave. I bumped into Ryan’s mother, Eleanor Shaw, who had just arrived at the hospital to visit him. Enemies meeting, eyes blazing with hatred. I simply looked at the elegant, aristocratic woman, the hatred I had hidden for three years now etched on my face. However. Eleanor didn’t have her usual haughty demeanor towards me. Instead, she clutched at me as if I were a lifeline. “Skylar Olsen! You’ve finally returned!” She pleaded, “Please, save Ryan!”

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1 After ten years of grinding at the company, my boss, convinced my pregnancy was to blame for a drop in performance, tried to force me out. I filed a labor arbitration claim against him and cut off all my business partnerships. Eventually, the company went bankrupt, and the boss faced court enforcement. Desperate and cornered, he blamed everything on me. On the day I was supposed to give birth, he intentionally ran me over with his car in a fit of rage, killing me. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day my boss first started making my life hell. Suddenly, a few lines of comments popped up above my head: [The protagonist’s reborn! Go get ’em! Ruthlessly crush everyone, equally!] [Love watching the protagonist go insane, if it’s not messy, I’m not watching!] … I looked at the floating comments above my head, bewildered. The slight bump of my belly and my hurrying colleagues jolted me awake. I had been reborn! I gasped, taking deep, excited breaths, my eyes welling up. It’s real! It’s real! My baby’s still here. Amber frowned, her face etched with disdain. She rapped a file box sharply on my desk. “Manager Lee, are you dense?” she snapped. “I told you pregnant women aren’t suited for work. Look at you—I’m just trying to brief you on a project, and you start crying! Honestly, first thing in the morning, how unlucky!” Seeing me ignore her, Amber tossed a final remark over her shoulder as she sashayed away. “You can explain to the boss why your sales are down now that you’re pregnant.” I looked down at the date on my phone. On this very day in my previous life, the boss had sent his conniving assistant, Amber, to subtly torment me. At noon, he called me in, using my declining sales performance as an excuse to force me into early maternity leave, even though I was only five months pregnant. In the afternoon, he had me move out of my manager’s office and removed me from the company’s organizational chart. That evening, I received my termination notice. I had worked at this company for ten years; no one had more seniority than me, except the boss himself. The company had grown from a cramped storage room of less than 100 square feet to its current 20,000 square feet. Over those ten years of growth, I had contributed 70% of the company’s revenue. Yet, simply because I was pregnant with my second child at an older age, and my performance wasn’t what it used to be, I was forcibly laid off. My decade of dedication had been utterly wasted on a scumbag. In my previous life, after being laid off, I collected evidence and filed a labor arbitration lawsuit demanding legal compensation. I also severed ties between my loyal clients and the company’s business. Without my clientele, the company’s revenue plummeted, leading to its eventual collapse and bankruptcy. All of Leo’s assets were seized by the court to repay bank loans. Cornered and desperate, Leo blamed everything on me. On the day I was supposed to give birth, he ran me over with his car right outside the hospital in a fit of rage, killing me. Even after hitting me, he wasn’t satisfied, repeatedly running over my body with his car. Now, with a second chance at life, I absolutely would not let that tragedy repeat itself. At noon, in the conference room, lines of comments appeared before my eyes again. 2 [Don’t agree, protag, absolutely do NOT agree to maternity leave!] [This jerk is discarding you after using you, he deserves to rot in hell.] [Just send the boss to jail, then become the boss yourself.] I paused for a second. This time, I certainly wouldn’t agree to maternity leave. Sending the boss to jail seemed like a pretty good option. I declined the iced coffee Leo offered, making no comment on his forced maternity leave demand. “Thank you, Mr. King. The doctor advised me not to drink coffee.” Leo gave an awkward smile, while Amber stood by, seething. “Manager Lee, this coffee was specially handmade for you by Mr. King. Don’t be so ungrateful.” Leo lowered his gaze, smirking, tacitly approving Amber’s behavior. Just then, the comments popped up again. [Go get her, quickly, that scheming bitch! Roast them!] [Isn’t that bitch trying to usurp the original wife?] [Let that witch know the scumbag boss’s wife is pregnant. That’ll infuriate her.] I leaned back in my chair, half-joking, “Assistant Amber is still young. In a couple of days, when you get pregnant, the doctor will tell you if you can drink iced coffee.” Others might not know about the boss and his assistant’s frequent office rendezvous, but I certainly did. It wouldn’t be surprising if she ended up pregnant one day. It was just a pity for his long-suffering wife at home, toiling to give him a third child, a son to ‘honor the ancestors.’ Amber’s face turned green with rage. “Leo, fire her! Fire her now!” I stared coldly at Leo, speaking unhurriedly, “Mr. King, your wife must be seven months pregnant by now, right? You’ll be a dad of three soon. You must know what a pregnant woman can and cannot eat.” I paused, “Right, Mr. King?” Leo nodded, his face flushed with embarrassment. I turned to Amber, smirking. Amber’s eyes turned red with fury; she looked like she wanted to kill me. I let out a soft laugh, then pressed Leo further, raising my voice to ensure all my colleagues in the outer office could hear. “Mr. King, I’m an old-timer here, a loyal employee to the bone. No one knows my contributions over the years better than you.” My voice sharpened. “I know you’re considering my pregnancy and hard work, but are you really going to fire me just because I won’t drink iced coffee? Using someone and then discarding them isn’t your style, is it?” Playing the moral card, holding someone to account—who couldn’t do that? Outside, everyone was watching the drama unfold. Leo, losing face, could only bite his lip and scold Amber. This time, I wasn’t forced out of the manager’s office, though my approval authority was suspended. Leo also didn’t bring up maternity leave again. I was happy to enjoy my newfound leisure, opening the blinds daily to bask in the sun and sipping plain water. I followed the guidance of the comments, avoiding conflict and deliberately slacking off. I’m a person who finishes what I start, with efficiency. Even if I wasn’t pursuing new business, I still wanted to complete any unfinished tasks for my clients to give them a satisfactory conclusion. My position in the company was now awkward. Many colleagues, accustomed to sucking up, treated people differently based on their status. The water cooler in the office ran empty. I called the facilities team twice, but they ignored me. Left with no choice, I took my cup to the pantry for water, only to run into Amber. “Well, well, well, the old-timer pregnant employee is different, alright. She’s even coming to the pantry to sponge off company resources now.” I had to admit, she was good at provoking me, trying to get a rise out of me. I clenched my cup tightly, glaring at her, truly wanting to smash my thermos into her face. But I knew this little schemer was deliberately trying to anger me. I took a deep breath, calming myself. I kept reminding myself that it wasn’t time to go all out yet. Just endure a little longer. A colleague nearby, Sarah, couldn’t stand it and spoke up for me. “Assistant Amber, it’s normal for Manager Lee to come out for water if her office dispenser is empty.” Amber looked haughty. “Who are you? Don’t you want to work here anymore? She does nothing all day and expects others to change her water. Is she some kind of queen because she’s pregnant? Should everyone bow down to her?” The entire office fell silent. Everyone tried to make themselves scarce. The pantry faced Leo’s office, and a furious Leo, with visible scratch marks on his face, was now standing behind the blinds, watching us. Amber, a fresh graduate, daring to strut around the company like she owned it, was clearly a result of Leo’s implicit approval. Sarah’s face was grim. I narrowed my eyes, making a quiet decision. Half an hour later, Leo came out to make an example of me, clearly siding with Amber. 3 Leo wanted to fire Sarah, the colleague who had just spoken up for me, and demanded that I sign her termination papers. I refused. Amber, having been rebuffed, then had Leo personally accompany her to my office to question why I wouldn’t sign. “Sarah didn’t do anything wrong, and she didn’t resign voluntarily. Why should I sign it?” I challenged. “She’s still under contract. Just because she stood up for me this morning and argued with Assistant Amber, she’s going to be fired in retaliation?” Leo was speechless, his face flushed with anger. The two of them playing this card at such a crucial moment was truly malicious. Sarah had just helped me out this morning, and this afternoon I’m supposed to sign her termination? What would other employees think of me, Skylar? That I’m just like Leo, discarding people after using them? Ridiculous! Amber linked her arm through Leo’s, ostensibly scolding me, but actually fanning Leo’s anger. “Skylar, are you the boss, or is Mr. King the boss? You’re just a lowly employee. Since when does the company’s decisions fall to you?” She smirked. “Are you getting too big for your britches just because your past performance was good?” I noticed the comments section really hated Amber. Whenever she confronted me head-on, new comments would pop up, this time directly citing legal statutes. [Unjust dismissal of an employee during contract period: N+1 compensation. Employees cannot be terminated during pregnancy.] I chuckled, waving my hand at them. “Fine, do what you want. I just want to remind Mr. King: Sarah has been with the company for five years. If you fire her without cause, it’s N+1 compensation. Her base salary is $10,000. You guys can pay up!” I continued, “And I’ve been with the company for twelve years, with a base salary of $15,000. If Assistant Amber doesn’t like me, Mr. King, you can also fire me. Just pay the N+1 compensation.” I leaned in conspiratorially. “But you can’t fire an employee during pregnancy, otherwise it’s against the law, you know!” Amber’s face was livid. She brazenly declared, “Pay then, just pay! Take the money and get out! Pregnant women get double to get out!” Leo immediately slapped Amber across the face, then forced a smile. “What are you talking about? How could I fire you? Sarah’s situation, I simply misspoke.” Amber tried to say something else but clamped her mouth shut after a sharp glare from Leo. I provocatively raised an eyebrow at Amber, feeling like her lungs were about to explode. Leo currently didn’t dare to forcibly terminate me. He would only occasionally send Amber, his tool, to annoy me. And I, too, began to prepare my plan. Many employees at the company had elderly parents and young children, and Sarah’s incident today served as a warning. The external economic environment was tough, and everyone wanted to secure their jobs, unwilling to directly oppose the boss. It had to be said, Leo’s goal was achieved: all my colleagues at the company began to deliberately isolate me. In the department meeting, Leo pointed out that the sales sector I was responsible for had suffered losses and asked everyone for explanations. At first, everyone hung their heads in silence. Leo then directly called on Sarah. Sarah’s face changed dramatically, filled with apprehension for a few seconds, then she bit the bullet. “Manager Lee didn’t consider the company’s actual situation; she didn’t push down costs enough.” After Sarah sat down, various departments involved in different aspects of the process stood up one by one to speak. They all pointed to my personal issues as the cause of the losses. I snorted, watching their performance quietly. Finally, Leo even feigned asking me “why?” 4 Just then, comments popped up again. [It’s a trap! Just make them understand how hard your pregnancy is.] [Exactly, this jerk is just trying to pressure you. Play along.] I leaned lazily in my chair, answering nonchalantly. “I’m getting older, plus I’m pregnant. My body just can’t keep up. Hope everyone understands.” Leo was momentarily speechless. Other colleagues looked down, lost in thought. Just then, Amber, the boss’s mouthpiece, spoke up again. “Don’t use pregnancy as an excuse. If you can’t do the job, just get out and let someone capable take over as manager.” She then added, “Considering Manager Lee’s pregnancy, how about we cut her salary and reassign her role? All those who agree, please raise your hand.” I looked around. Besides Leo and me, everyone raised their hand. Another batch of comments appeared. [OMG, all that just to cut her salary and demote her.] [So disgusting. If the protagonist didn’t have a plan, I’d want her to smack that witch to death.] [Hurry up and get your revenge! I want to see that scumbag and witch bite the dust!] Amber’s face was filled with triumph. She deliberately tried to embarrass me. “It’s a unanimous vote, Skylar. What’s your take?” Comments: [Agree first, then screw them over.] I smiled faintly, forcing a grin. “No problem. I’ll follow the company’s arrangements.” Demotion and salary cut, then forcing me to resign? Excellent! Absolutely excellent! Afterward, many colleagues privately contacted me, apologizing for what happened today. I told them I understood. Some even urged me not to put up with the disdain and simply resign and go home to rest. My husband, seeing me on the phone all evening, asked worriedly if I needed help. I shook my head, refusing. It wasn’t time yet. After my demotion, I immediately posted on social media: “I’ve been reassigned and am no longer responsible for sales. If you need anything, please contact my other colleagues.” For the next two weeks, I lived like a pampered slug, focusing on my health. Because of my non-intervention, the company’s revenue dropped by half! Our company was sales-driven, and everyone, from front-line to support staff, had a salary structure of base pay plus performance bonuses. The more you did, the more you earned. With the sudden drop in revenue and poor performance, employees began to complain. Funds weren’t coming in, forcing them to take out loans to do business. The first to lose patience was Leo. “The company understands you’re pregnant, but why aren’t you handling any business? You need to write a 3,000-word self-reflection and present it at the department meeting.” He lectured, “Don’t slack off just because you’re pregnant. Powerful women in the workplace work until they give birth and then rest. You’re a modern woman; you can’t be lazy.” He added, “As sales manager, you need to set an example for your team.” Just then, the comments popped up angrily. [OMG, since when do modern women have to work until they give birth?] [I really want to slap him twice. He’s an animal with no upbringing.] [Don’t be scared, don’t be scared. The protagonist will take care of him. Let’s wait and see.] I was actually quite angry, but the comments made me laugh. I rolled my eyes, utterly speechless, and kindly reminded him. “Mr. King, you’re a busy man, so you forget things. I’m just an admin now, so I don’t have any performance targets.” I added with a saccharine smile, “And I’m not a ‘powerful woman.’ I need to go home early to prepare for childbirth.” Leo’s face flushed with embarrassment. He strategically took a sip of water. Just then, his phone rang. After he answered, his expression instantly changed. His previous worried frown transformed into a triumphant grin. “It’s good that you have that kind of awareness. The company can still run without you.” He scoffed, “Don’t be so arrogant. If you’re old, go home and rest. Women should prioritize their families.” Watching Leo’s smug retreating figure, I smiled. Excellent. The fish had taken the bait.

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I’m a wellness specialist. Lately, a wealthy socialite has been coming to The Sanctuary Spa every day, always requesting me. My services, originally just foot massages, gradually expanded to full-body treatments. She’d lean into me, pliant and soft. “Alex, it’s only when I’m with you that I feel truly alive.” I’d smile and hold her close. “Me too.” But my eyes would drift to a hidden, subtly blinking red light directly across from the massage bed… 1 “Alex Hayes, client’s asking for you.” My colleague, Mikey, let out a low whistle, telling me I’d really hit the jackpot. Just a few months into this part-time gig and I’d landed a sugar mama. Young, beautiful, and most importantly, loaded. She’d topped up her spa card with a hundred grand without batting an eye. “This is, like, the eighth time she’s specifically asked for you, isn’t it? She’s clearly smitten. Just seal the deal, and your tuition… oh, wait, your whole damn future will be set, won’t it?” I nudged him away. “Cut it out, man. I’m not interested. Besides, she’s married. I’m not about to be a home-wrecker.” Room 108 was pretty much my permanent station. I tidied myself in the mirror, making sure my uniform smelled of the spa’s signature aromatherapy blend – a scent the woman seemed particularly fond of. Once everything was perfect, I pushed the door open and stepped inside. It was pitch black, no lights on. But I could faintly smell a fragrance that wasn’t mine. I knew exactly what that meant. I spoke softly. “Ms. Thorne, are you here?” In the darkness, my senses were heightened. A soft, warm breath ghosted against my neck. “Alex, I told you last time, don’t call me that.” Cassidy Thorne’s voice slithered around me like silk, making it impossible to resist. I pressed down on her unruly hand, swallowing hard. “Cassidy, Cassie, do you… do you still need my services today?” Cassidy suddenly pulled back half a step, and the room lights snapped on with a jarring flash, momentarily blinding me. It took a few seconds for my eyes to adjust, revealing that Cassidy was prepared today. Her makeup was striking, and a silk dress clung to her body, showcasing every curve. She looked annoyed. “Was I not clear enough last time?” Last time, just yesterday, while I was giving her a foot massage, Cassidy had dropped a heavy hint. She wanted me to quit this job, said she’d take care of me. As long as I was good and stayed by her side, she’d give me a house, a car, money—anything. Cassidy picked up her fallen shawl and wrapped it around herself, a hint of impatience in her movements. “Alex Hayes, you need to think this through. My patience has limits.” I looked up at her. “This is a reputable establishment, we don’t offer… other services.” Cassidy scoffed. “Then call your boss out. I want to cancel my card.” 2 The door swung open abruptly. Right, this was a legitimate place; we never fully closed the door when serving clients. My boss rushed in, frantically giving me the eye, then turning to Cassidy with a plastered-on smile. “Ms. Thorne, this kid’s still green. Please wait a moment, I’ll straighten him out.” My boss dragged me aside and immediately launched into a tirade. He said if I didn’t land Cassidy, I wouldn’t see a dime of my monthly salary. “I know you’re a college kid, proud and a bit shy, but with something like this, you’re not losing out, you know? Cassidy’s gorgeous. You get paid, and… well, it’s a win-win, isn’t it?” I still hesitated. “But she’s married…” “So what? Cassidy is a Thorne, the sole heir to one of the state’s most influential billionaire fortunes. Her husband, Bryce, is a lightweight, a kept man living off her family’s name. He wouldn’t dare do anything even if she had an affair.” My boss coerced, tempted, and wore me down, effectively tying me to Cassidy. “Alright, Alex will be with you today.” For a hundred grand, my boss practically sold me off, completely forgetting he ran a reputable, non-sexual wellness center, as he practically pushed us into the room. Cassidy glanced at me. “So unwilling? Fine, then.” She turned to leave, but I reached out, gently took her wrist, rubbing it subtly before pressing closer. “Cassie, it’s… it’s a bit messy here. Let’s… let’s go somewhere else.” The sprawling estate was impressive, its security no joke. Cassidy strolled in with me, right past the watchful eyes of the security detail. “From now on, this person is allowed in without question, got it?” Stepping inside, I was deeply moved. But the mansion was also filled with traces of two lives intertwined. Framed photos of the couple, radiating affection, made my stomach churn. “Are you sure it’s okay, bringing me to your home?” Cassidy leaned back on the sofa, looking utterly drained. “What’s there to be afraid of? My husband, Bryce?” Cassidy was the only daughter of one of the state’s richest men, beautiful, highly educated, and with such a powerful father. She’d taken over several family businesses right after turning eighteen, a multi-millionaire in her own right, quite a public figure. Her wedding day had made headlines, front-page news and dominating local social media trends. I knew her husband, Bryce Worthington, was her college sweetheart. After graduation, they both joined the family conglomerate. Bryce held an important position within the group, but I was just a college student with no connections. If he found out I’d been sleeping with his wife, he’d skin me alive. I looked down as her scarlet nails reached out, Cassidy tracing my jawline. Her eyes held a flicker of impatience. “You’re scared of him, but you’re not scared of me?” She had a point. The Thornes were the real power. Bryce, for all his bluster, was still just riding her coattails. I turned my hand to intertwine my fingers with hers, smiling faintly. “I’m only scared of you.” Cassidy seemed pleased, her gaze sweeping to the side. “Come closer. Why are you so far away?” 3 As evening deepened, Cassidy had lured me to her mansion, yet she no longer seemed as impatient as before. She simply sat beside me, putting a movie on the projector screen, asking me to watch it with her. Snack bags piled up one after another, and the floor became littered with crumpled tissues and empty wrappers. I wasn’t sure if it was intentional, but she’d chosen a horror film. Whenever a scary part came on, Cassidy would instinctively lunge into my arms. She’d pull my hand to half-cover her eyes, her lashes fluttering against my skin, sending my heart racing. With such soft warmth in my arms, I couldn’t resist leaning down and pressing a kiss to her lips. Slap. Before I could even taste her, a stinging slap snapped my head back, momentarily stunning me. Cassidy seemed surprised herself, pulling back slightly. “What’s the rush, big boy? Just watch a bit longer.” The force wasn’t particularly strong, but I rubbed my throbbing cheek, bewildered. Earning money was hard, but dealing with the whims of the ultra-rich felt impossible. She’d been all over me just moments ago, and now this sudden, inexplicable shift to some kind of chaste romance. But Cassidy was my meal ticket now, so I dared not say anything. I sat obediently, watching the screen as she’d instructed. We stayed like that until night had fully fallen, and my stomach had growled several times. The mansion’s staff, who had prepared a lavish spread, cautiously came to usher us. Only then did Cassidy, her expression devoid of emotion, issue her next command. “Let’s eat.” The mansion was vast, and the staff vanished after serving the meal. It was just Cassidy and me, seated at a long dining table, making the room feel cavernous and empty. I hesitated, then asked, “Mr. Worthington won’t be joining us today?” “Do you want him to?” I caught the hostility in Cassidy’s tone and quickly shook my head. “No, not at all. Just curious.” Cassidy suddenly curved her lips into a smile, reaching out to hook her arm around my neck, her breath soft against my ear. “Don’t worry. With me here, he wouldn’t dare do anything to you.” “Alex, just relax and eat with me first.” Cassidy had reverted to her familiar, alluring self from the spa. I relaxed, the food was sumptuous and delicious, and I ate my fill. Cassidy, claiming she needed to maintain her figure, stopped eating early, resting her hands on the table and watching me. Her eyes held a strange, lingering intensity, yet I couldn’t shake the feeling she wasn’t truly looking at me. 4 I put down my chopsticks. “I’m full.” Following Cassidy’s gaze outward, I saw a giant panoramic window. The lights inside were as bright as day, revealing the exterior clearly, though those outside couldn’t see in. “Eat more.” “I’m full…” Cassidy’s voice suddenly sharpened. “I said eat more!” Helpless, I picked up my chopsticks again, nudging some food around. My uncertainty grew; Cassidy’s behavior was utterly bizarre. She was so unpredictable. She claimed to be keeping me, yet she hadn’t made any overtly intimate moves. I put down my chopsticks again and stood up. “Forget it. I’m heading back to campus.” “Are you mad?” Cassidy reached out and pulled me back, swaying playfully and pouting. “Don’t be mad, Alex. I just thought, you need energy for other things, you know?” She quickly glanced out the window, then pressed herself intimately against me. “Since you’re full, let’s go upstairs. To my bedroom.” Upstairs, the master suite. From the moment we entered, Cassidy clung to me like a second skin. But it was impossible to ignore the massive wedding photo hanging prominently above the bed. Doing anything intimate under that photograph felt incredibly unsettling. I managed to pull myself away from her, just enough to speak. “Maybe we should take that down?” Cassidy looked displeased. “Why are you such a chicken?” She cupped my face in her hands, rising on her tiptoes to meet my gaze. “No need to be scared. I’m in charge in this house… Besides, he wouldn’t even care…” A flicker of understanding sparked in my mind, and I was about to say something, but her soft lips pressed against mine, driving away the words. Cassidy’s eyes were closed, but mine remained open, fixed on her flushed cheeks, red with emotion. Click. The bedroom lights snapped off. But directly opposite the bed, a faint, pulsating red light shimmered in the darkness.

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My best friend was a prankfluencer, and she’d gone viral for humiliating people online. On my birthday, she gave me a giant cake. After I blew out the candles, she reached out, intending to smash my head into it. But instead, it was her eyes that were pierced and blinded by the cake’s support pillars. 1 “Happy birthday, Daisy!” My so-called best friend placed an enormous cake in front of me, and everyone around us gasped at Skylar’s extravagant gesture. I looked up, my face beaming with feigned excitement at Skylar. “Skylar, thank you! You’re just too good to me.” My sugary compliments always worked wonders on Skylar, and she immediately started boasting about her gift to her phone. I subtly glanced at Skylar’s screen from the corner of my eye. The chat was flooded with comments. Of course, she was live-streaming. At everyone’s urging, I closed my eyes to make a wish. The excited chatter of the crowd buzzed around me, each voice a stark reminder that I’d been given a second chance. I made no wish. My mind was consumed by the agonizing memory of my cruel death in the previous life. If I had one wish, it was for Skylar to experience everything I had endured, in excruciating detail. I took a deep breath, opened my eyes, and blew out the candles, my gaze fixed on Skylar’s movements. “Alright, everyone, today’s all about Daisy! Don’t hold back, let’s get this party started!” Just as expected, Skylar leaned forward, reaching a hand out towards the back of my head. I seized the moment, ducking down just before her hand could connect. I casually picked up a fork from the floor, feigning mild annoyance. “Oh, darn it. We already have so many people, and now a fork’s on the floor. Not enough to go around!” Then, I watched the scene unfolding before me in feigned shock. “Ah!” With a startled shriek, Skylar, due to her own momentum, tumbled forward, headfirst into the cake. Karma, perhaps, that her face landed right in the center of it. I repeated Skylar’s words from my past life, keeping the upbeat energy going. “Hahaha, looks like Skylar really wanted a piece of that cake, she just dove right in!” The room erupted in laughter, everyone teasing Skylar mercilessly. “Skylar, you’re so greedy! It’s not even your birthday, why are you hogging the cake?” Several hands eagerly pressed Skylar’s head down further, ensuring the cream was spread even more evenly. I glanced at Skylar’s live-streaming phone; the live chat was a sea of ‘LOLs’ and ‘Hahas.’ 2 But Skylar kept her head buried in the cake, not rising. A guy who loved being in the thick of things reached out, grabbed Skylar’s hair, and yanked her upright. This sent a splatter of cream everywhere, making everyone recoil a few steps. Skylar’s face was covered in cake cream, her perfectly applied makeup utterly ruined. But Skylar’s eyes were tightly shut, her whole body swaying precariously. Everyone was still cracking jokes about her appearance when Skylar suddenly snapped her eyes open. Her gaze was unfocused, and her state clearly off. I knew that feeling—she was about to pass out. What was truly horrifying, though, was the fresh blood welling from her left eye. This gruesome sight left the attention-seeking guy frozen in shock. “It wasn’t me! I just tried to pull her out! You all saw it, you have to vouch for me!” The guy immediately let go of Skylar, frantically explaining himself to the onlookers. Deprived of his support, Skylar collapsed onto the table with a thud. Seeing that the spectacle had gone far enough, I urgently spoke up. “Enough chatter! Call an ambulance!” That finally jolted everyone, and they scrambled for their phones to dial 911. I thoughtfully picked up Skylar’s live-streaming phone, turning it to the camera and apologizing to the viewers. “I’m so sorry, everyone, there’s been an accident. The live stream might have to end here. I need to go to the hospital with Skylar.” A stream of concerned comments scrolled by, interspersed with praises for me. “This girl is so sweet! Suddenly feel bad about all those pranks we pulled on her before.” I stared at that comment, a momentary flicker of distraction. Just as I was about to end the stream, the screen was flooded with “DON’T END IT! WE WANT UPDATES!” I mused for a few seconds, then decisively agreed. 3 “Daisy, how are my eyes?” Skylar finally woke up, her left eye wrapped in a thick bandage. My expression grave, eyes brimming with tears, I delivered the devastating news. “I’m so sorry, Skylar. The doctor said your left eye will most likely be permanently blind. The pillar went too deep. It’s a miracle you even survived.” At my words, Skylar froze, utterly stunned. I reached out, wanting to take her hand and comfort her, but she violently flung it away. I let myself fall to the floor with the motion, wrapping my arms around my knees and quietly weeping. “Don’t pretend to care! This is all your fault! If you hadn’t moved, I wouldn’t be blind!” I hung my head in shame, my voice thick with feigned tears, as I apologized. “I’m so sorry, Skylar. If I had known, I’d have rather been blind myself than let this happen to you.” My heartfelt apology seemed to remind Skylar of something, and she suddenly became stiff. I continued my act of misery. “Skylar, don’t worry, I’ll definitely help you find a way to heal your eye.” Skylar, however, abruptly changed the subject, frantically searching for her phone. I pointed to her live-streaming phone in the distance, explaining what had happened. Skylar’s face instantly contorted, and she snapped at me to bring her the phone immediately. “How dare you touch someone else’s things without permission? This is so annoying!” I meekly took the phone from its stand, only to see the comments now fiercely defending me. “What’s wrong with Skylar? Daisy’s been running around for her, handling hospital admission, even lending money for upfront fees, and this is how she repays her? Seriously ungrateful!” “Yeah, what happened to our sweet, adorable Skylar? She’s so snappy now!” “Honestly, I’ve always found her annoying. No sense of boundaries with her pranks.” I fought to keep the triumphant smirk from twisting my lips, then handed the phone to Skylar. Skylar naturally saw the comments too, and her face became a kaleidoscope of conflicting emotions. Skylar quickly smoothed her hair, then turned to the camera, explaining in a syrupy, high-pitched voice. “I’m so sorry, everyone. I just lost control for a moment. Waaah, I’m just so heartbroken…” Her shrill voice and phony demeanor made my stomach churn. 4 No matter how many fans Skylar had, or how much she raked in from endorsements, medical science wasn’t going to bend to her will. On the day she was discharged, Skylar, still in denial, badgered the doctors about her condition, but still received the same grim prognosis: “Highly likely to be permanently blind.” Back in the dorm, it wasn’t a few days after she was discharged that Skylar resumed her pranking antics. These days, Skylar was constantly holding her phone, searching for new content, and I, predictably, was her new target. “Daisy, have you felt anything… different these past few days?” “Daisy, have you washed your hair recently?” She should have looked pitiful with the bandage wrapped around her eye, but all I saw on her face was a chilling delight. I shook my head, feigning complete bewilderment. Skylar’s face fell, just as expected. Then I suddenly spoke up. “Oh, you know, now that you mention it, I have been feeling a bit tired and noticed some hair loss lately.” Skylar’s previously drooping lips instantly curved upwards. “Skylar, why are you so happy about me losing hair? Did you… do something?” 5 Just as she started to stammer out a panicked explanation, I cut her off, blocking her excuse. “Hahaha, you look so flustered! I’m just kidding with you.” Skylar’s expression relaxed. “Hahaha, Skylar, the way you look so relieved makes me even more suspicious now.” I deliberately drew out my words, savoring the wicked pleasure of watching Skylar’s pupils flicker with unease. Then I answered my own question: “Makes you wonder why you’re so easy to trick, hahaha. You’re just too cute!” Skylar’s carefully constructed composure finally shattered under my teasing. A silent, wicked chuckle rose within me. Oh, you want to see hair loss, do you? This time, you’ll get an eyeful. 6 “Argh! Why is so much of my hair falling out?!” Skylar’s shriek shattered the dorm’s peace. The other roommates peered out, curious about the commotion. Skylar stumbled out of the bathroom, clutching a large clump of dark hair in her hand. And the top of her head was now conspicuously bald in patches. The source of that tangled mass of hair in her hand was painfully obvious. “Oh my god, Skylar, I’ve only seen hair loss this bad from cancer online. Maybe you should get checked out at the hospital?” A kind roommate urged Skylar to get medical attention, but Skylar, however, wasn’t grateful in the least. She snapped back, her voice laced with venom. “Who are you wishing cancer on? You have cancer! Your whole family has cancer!” Suddenly, Skylar’s gaze swung to me. “It was you!” Her hateful glare sent a shiver down my spine, but I replied, feigning confusion. “What is it, Skylar? What about me?” Skylar’s lips worked for a few seconds, but she ultimately said nothing, only glaring at me before stomping back into the bathroom. Of course, she wouldn’t say anything. After all, this was her own handiwork; she had no one to blame but herself. Instead, the roommate who had just been attacked by Skylar came over, defending me. “Hmph, what kind of person is that? We were just trying to be nice, and she treats us like this. Seriously ungrateful!” I pitifully defended Skylar, only for my roommates to label me ‘too kind.’ That night, I saw Skylar’s shampoo bottle in the trash. A full bottle, yet it had been discarded. The reason? It wasn’t just shampoo inside that bottle. It was mixed with hair removal cream. And I, well, I had merely swapped our shampoo bottles. In my past life, I had unknowingly used the shampoo a few times, and almost all my hair had fallen out. My best friend, far from comforting me, had filmed my patchy scalp and posted it online. With its bizarre subject matter and funny editing, that video actually made Skylar go viral. Infuriated, I demanded Skylar take down the video and those humiliating photos, but she just casually brushed me off. “Don’t be so petty, Daisy. Why are you so sensitive now?” Petty? Anyone would be furious if their long hair was ruined by patchy baldness. I thought it would end there, but Skylar went further, turning my photos into memes and posting them in the school group chats. My thoughts snapped back to the present, and a new idea for my plan began to form. 7 “Ring! Ring!” Class began. It was a general education lecture, with students from several different departments. I glanced at Skylar, bundled in a hat and wig, then at the fierce wind outside the window. The weather was truly unpleasant today; branches thrashed wildly, yet the sun was blindingly bright. I turned to my classmates. “Should we open the window? I bet the breeze outside would be really refreshing.” Several roommates, eyeing the stuffy classroom, quickly nodded in agreement. Skylar, in particular, was a hundred percent on board. “Daisy, go ahead! Just try not to get yelled at by the professor.” Ever since Skylar had been the victim of her own prank, she’d grown suspicious of me, scrutinizing my every move, finding fault with everything. This time, she wanted someone else to do her dirty work, too lazy to open the window herself, yet desperate to relieve her stifling heat. After all, wearing a wig and hat in this kind of heat was pure torture. Of course, I was happy to oblige. Otherwise, the coming show wouldn’t go on. I opened the window, and a cool breeze immediately rushed into the classroom. Skylar squinted blissfully into the breeze, even lifting her hat to let the air circulate. The other students gave me a thumbs-up, but only Skylar, despite enjoying the coolness, continued to nitpick. “Tsk, tsk. Daisy’s only good for this much, I guess.” 8 “Ah!” Suddenly, a startled cry echoed. I whirled around, just in time to see a hat and wig tumbling through the air. A student in the back row, perhaps not quite seeing what the dark, flying object was, let out a startled yell. “Whoa, what the heck is that?!” Then, someone instinctively snatched it up and flung it even further. Meanwhile, Skylar frantically touched her suddenly bare scalp, terror creeping across her entire face. Seeing this, I immediately shrieked, “Oh no, Skylar’s wig flew off! Everyone, help her catch it!” My words sent Skylar into a complete breakdown, and she bolted after her wig. All I felt was a blur of motion beside me. Now, the entire class turned to stare, eyes glued to Skylar. Even the professor gaped at Skylar’s shiny scalp and the few pathetic strands of hair remaining. A few mischievous students pulled out their phones, snapping photos of Skylar’s head like crazy, and the whole situation spiraled out of control. The professor finally snapped out of it and put a stop to the chaos. But before class even ended, humiliating photos of Skylar were already flooding every campus forum. I looked down at the post on my phone: Campus Confession Page: “To Skylar from the English department: Your gleaming scalp captivates me, your frantic dash enthralls me. Please, grant me the chance to pursue you!” The post included a photo taken from an incredibly awkward angle, perfectly capturing Skylar at her baldest and most enraged. The comments section was a goldmine of hilarious and savage replies. I nearly burst out laughing, masking it with a few feigned coughs. Skylar whirled around, glaring at me, her eyes spitting fire. I flashed a wide smile. “Why are you so petty now? I was just having some fun with everyone. It’s all in jest, no malice intended.” Panting with rage, she buried her head in her arms on the desk, sobbing softly. Cruel, you ask? In my past life, when my hair had almost completely fallen out, what did Skylar do? She “accidentally” knocked my hat off in front of everyone. There were only a few people who saw it then, but Skylar deliberately kicked my hat away, then shouted at the top of her lungs: “Oh my god, Daisy, I’m so sorry! I just wanted to help you pick up your hat! Don’t worry, everyone, I’m sure nobody will laugh. It’s just hair removal cream mistaken for shampoo, right? No big deal!” After that announcement, everyone on the path swarmed around, pointing and snapping photos with their phones. What I didn’t know then was that Skylar was live-streaming the entire time. Tens of thousands witnessed my humiliation, live.

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1 I compiled all my assets into a single document, naming my fiancée, Vivian Lee, as the sole beneficiary. I explicitly instructed Mr. Henderson, my lawyer, to deliver it to her precisely on New Year’s Eve. “Are you not keeping anything for yourself, sir?” Mr. Henderson asked me. I had. I had left Vivian a very special New Year’s gift: All my savings, and my cold, lifeless body. … “Mr. Roberts, are you absolutely certain that Vivian Lee is the only name you wish to list as the beneficiary for all your assets? No portion for yourself?” Mr. Henderson repeated the question twice before my attention drifted back to him. I scrolled through my phone, managing a bitter smile. “I don’t have long to live. There’s no need to keep anything.” He hadn’t anticipated my answer and offered a solemn apology, extending his hand. “You have my word, sir. As per your instructions, I will deliver the document to Ms. Lee on New Year’s Eve.” Stepping out of the law office, the biting cold wind sent a shiver through me, but it was nowhere near as sharp as the pain inflicted by the message on my phone. That afternoon, Vivian had posted a photo on her social media of two hands clinking glasses. The opposing hand had distinct knuckles and was adorned with the newest matching couple’s ring. “Celebrating my dear Ethan’s promotion to attending physician!” That post, without a doubt, had me blocked. I’d liked it from a burner account. “Dear Ethan,” was Vivian’s childhood friend. I used to believe Vivian’s love was exclusively mine. But after our engagement, she seemed burdened, rushing out in the dead of night to meet Ethan, confessing her true feelings. “It was only after getting engaged to Sam Roberts that I realized I don’t feel anything for him anymore. I can’t marry him.” The first night I followed Vivian on my burner account, I lay on the couch and watched for hours. They went to concerts, danced by the ocean, revisited childhood haunts… In the year since Vivian and I got engaged, she had never once truly affirmed her love for me, yet with someone else, her affection overflowed. Unconsciously, I found myself outside Vivian’s pottery studio. The storefront was adorned with cheerful, festive decorations. New Year’s was just over a week away, meaning my planned end was drawing closer. The bell above the door suddenly jingled. It was Vivian, stepping out with a bright smile. “Hello, welcome…” But upon seeing me, her smile faded. “Where have you been? Don’t you know the studio is swamped?” Leading up to the holidays, Vivian’s pottery studio always got hectic. Everyone wanted to make a handmade New Year’s gift, mostly couples or families. Vivian would get overwhelmed with teaching, so she’d call me to help. “I called you tonight, no answer. Texted you, no reply. What were you doing?” Her tone was laced with displeasure. I fabricated a lie. “Something came up at the sports club, I had to go there.” She didn’t doubt me much, or perhaps, she simply didn’t care what I was doing. I demonstrated to a customer by the window how to sculpt the desired shape, but after only a sentence or two, the child burst into loud sobs. “That man’s finger is scary! I don’t want to look at him!” The shriek made customers around us turn, their eyes drawn to my severed index finger, making me feel utterly exposed. I wanted to hide my hand, but seeing Vivian approach, I instinctively blurted out, “Vivian, I didn’t mean to…” The child’s amplified wails grated on everyone’s ears, becoming incredibly annoying. “Owner, tell that man to leave! Don’t scare the children anymore!” “Get his hand away! Is he trying to make the child cry even louder?” My explanation was drowned out by the cacophony of accusations. Vivian heard nothing of it. She shot me a disgusted glare. “Don’t you know your hand looks disgusting? Couldn’t you hide it from the child?” Those words were like nails, hammered into my heart, stinging with excruciating pain. Vivian might have forgotten that this very hand, this disgusting hand, had saved her life. 2 Two years ago, in a car crash, Vivian had lost consciousness in the passenger seat. Terrified of losing her, and with the ambulance taking too long, I cradled her unconscious body and sprinted to the nearest hospital. Only after she was wheeled into the operating room did I finally breathe a sigh of relief. It was then that a young nurse beside me gasped, “Sir, your hand is bleeding!” Only then did I notice my index finger had been pierced by vehicle debris, and the delayed surge of pain overwhelmed my mind. Unfortunately, help arrived too late, and that segment of my finger couldn’t be saved. But at that time, I had Vivian’s wholehearted love. She sat on the hospital bed, wrapped her arms tightly around my neck, and shed tears of relief, of having cheated death. “Sam, the doctor said if we’d been any later, I might have died…” She even gently kissed my bandaged finger, asking softly, “Does it hurt?” I shook my head, saying no. “What are you muttering about? Good thing no customers complained, otherwise, if my studio’s reputation went down, I wouldn’t know who to blame.” Vivian’s complaints, reaching my ears, shattered my memories. She was busy recording a video. That video, of me carrying her to the hospital after the crash, had gone viral, bringing a lot of attention and followers. So Vivian was now a small influencer with a decent fan base. The comments used to be uniformly congratulatory and envious. But times had changed, a new wave of viewers had arrived, and the comments section now held much more noise. “Feel like the influencer’s boyfriend looks kinda average, a bit mismatched.” “Yeah, her boyfriend looks really fierce, kinda worried for her…” Things like that. Vivian had even said, “Can you please just stay out of sight when I’m recording videos from now on? My fans don’t like you on camera.” This time, when she recorded, I hid on the balcony. Vivian and I had been together for five years. I discovered her change of heart a year ago. I’d considered breaking up, but then wondered, why was she hiding it from me? She could have simply told me she didn’t love me anymore and wanted to be with Ethan. But she never confessed. I, too, stubbornly waited for her to speak. As the hurt and disappointment piled up, I gradually grew numb. My phone rang, interrupting my sadness. Mr. Henderson called. “Mr. Roberts, we need to record Ms. Lee’s contact information.” I clearly recited her number. When I hung up and turned back into the room, I noticed Vivian standing behind me. She stared at me suspiciously. “Who did you give my number to?” Seeing her suspicion rise, I forced a smile. “The sports club needed to re-register personal information. They called to ask for my next of kin’s number.” Vivian frowned the moment she heard the words “next of kin.” She told me firmly, “What’s all this ‘next of kin’ talk? We’re not married yet. Couldn’t you have given your own family’s number?” We’d been together for so long; Vivian always knew exactly what to say to twist the knife. My parents divorced, and I’d always lived with my mother. After she passed away two years ago, Vivian became the only family I had left in my heart. She had also promised me countless nights, “Sam, don’t be too sad. I’m your family too.” “Your emergency contact, your next of kin… you can put me down. I’ll be there. Always.” The one who promised forever had pulled away, leaving me trapped forever in past memories. A year of agonizing thought led to only one conclusion: I couldn’t live without Vivian, and I wanted her to remember me forever. 3 Early that afternoon, Vivian was already set to leave. I called out to her. “Vivian, I booked a table at that restaurant for tonight. Let’s have dinner together.” She rejected it without a second thought. “No, Ethan’s family invited me over for dinner tonight. I need to go there.” Before she even finished speaking, she was clicking away on her heels. My only plan for the evening had fallen through. Just as I thought I’d spend the entire evening of this pre-holiday period staring blankly at movies, Coach Davies from the sports club called, inviting me to a team outing. A week after making the audacious decision to end my life on New Year’s Eve, I’d quietly resigned from my coaching job at the club, without telling Vivian. After a few rounds of drinks, the colleagues from the club started talking about me. “Hey Sam, he used to be a provincial athlete, you know? Came to our club to coach. Didn’t his girlfriend get on his case about the low pay?” They laughed and ribbed me, and I just had to play along, not wanting to spoil the fun. In truth, I’d stepped down due to injuries to my legs and hands. And also, being with Vivian had softened my sharp edges; I’d wanted to settle down. But now, it seemed I’d failed on both fronts. They were about to start another round of teasing. I had no choice but to use the restroom as an excuse to slip out for some air. Passing by the private dining room next door, I briefly thought the alcohol was making me see things, but blinking repeatedly didn’t change the fact that Vivian and Ethan were inside. Her face held a tenderness I hadn’t seen in ages. She was leaning against Ethan, her words laced with a playful complaint. “Dear Ethan, you haven’t had time to see me these past few days.” Vivian acted like a little girl, accusing the man beside her. “I’ve been busy since becoming an attending physician. Can’t make any mistakes. Besides, meeting too often, what if Sam gets suspicious?” Ethan brushed his fingers against her nose, their intimacy palpable. Perhaps my name had ruined the mood, for Vivian’s tone sharpened, her voice tinged with anger. “I regret getting engaged to him now. He gave up being a professional athlete to go coach at some small club.” “His job is unstable. Does he expect me to support him forever?” “You don’t know, Ethan, I have to wake up every morning and look at his face. Just thinking about it makes me sick.” As she spoke, she suddenly kissed Ethan’s cheek, her voice sweet and cloying. “Ethan, you’re so much better. Handsome and successful. Sam can’t even compare.” The door was ajar, and I heard every word, my hands gripping my clothes so tightly just to keep myself from collapsing. Perhaps Vivian’s resentment had festered for too long, for she continued relentlessly. “And his broken finger, it makes my skin crawl just looking at it. It’s scared off several customers already, and he treats it like some badge of honor.” Ethan suddenly spoke. “Vivian, you can cut ties with Sam. I’ll always be right behind you.” Vivian didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she fell into a long silence, which was finally broken by a phone ringing. She saw the caller ID, and immediate displeasure flooded her face. “Didn’t I say I was at Ethan’s family dinner? What do you want now?” I gently pushed open the half-closed door, saw her startled expression, and spoke into the phone, and to Vivian herself. “You don’t need to lie to me. I’ve seen everything.” A silent standoff stretched between the three of us. My gaze shifted back and forth between them, the alcohol I’d consumed earlier boiling in my stomach. I couldn’t stay. I had to leave. “Sam, where are you going? Can you just let me explain!” Vivian’s anxious shouts were left behind me. I almost thought she was worried about me. It was only when I stepped out and saw everyone in the restaurant staring that I realized. She was only worried about me making a scene and embarrassing her. I vomited until I was dizzy in the public restroom. Passersby just assumed I was a drunken mess. I half-sat on the floor, burying my head in my arms, weeping. I couldn’t comprehend how a love that had come so close to marriage could shatter into so many pieces. When I got home, all the lights were off. I accidentally stepped on something while changing shoes, and a sharp pain shot through the sole of my foot. I squatted down to look. The bottom of my foot had been pierced by a shard, bleeding outwards. Vivian had smashed every decorative item in the house. She was sitting in a corner of the sofa, looking at me coldly. “I ran into your colleagues at the restaurant. They said you quit your job.” Vivian’s voice was devoid of emotion, chilling like a venomous snake. “Sam, why?” I didn’t answer her. Instead, I traced the ceramic shard in my hand, letting it cut thin lines of crimson into my skin. This was a mug Vivian and I had made together on the first day her pottery studio opened. It wasn’t particularly pretty, but she loved it, placing it right in the center of the TV cabinet. “Sam, when we get married, we absolutely have to use this mug for our toast.” Later, that mug gathered dust. The mug Ethan made, however, sat on display at the pottery studio, polished to a shine. Vivian took the shard from my hand and tossed it into the trash can. “I might have thrown a bit of a fit tonight, but I was angry that you’re not taking responsibility for our future. How can you just quit your job like that?” “Sam, Ethan and I had dinner together, but it was just a casual thing. If I were to choose someone to settle down with, I’d still pick you.” She wrapped her arms around my waist, rested her chin on my shoulder, and whispered, “I love you, Sam. So you’ll find a new job, and we’ll have a good life together, okay?” Lie after lie wove a suffocating web, gradually crushing my hope, solidifying my desire to leave completely. “Okay. I’ll look for a job after the New Year.” 4 I planned to die in our marital home, the one my mother had bought for us two years ago. She had always longed for me to settle down early; it was her wish, and that house was purchased with all her savings. I hadn’t told Vivian, always wanting to surprise her. But now, it seemed ‘shock’ would be a more accurate word. While Vivian was at the pottery studio, I wanted to visit the house one last time. But fate had other plans. At a crosswalk, I was hit by a car that appeared out of nowhere. I lay on the ground, my consciousness fading, my knee throbbing with excruciating pain. But more shocking than the pain was seeing Ethan and Vivian emerge from the car. Vivian was crying, seeking refuge in Ethan’s arms. She dared not look, unaware that the person lying on the ground was me. Before I lost consciousness, I could only hear her sobbing. “Dear Ethan, what do we do? We hit someone… Is that Sam?” “It couldn’t be Sam, what are the chances…” When I woke up in the hospital, Vivian was leaning by my hand, her eyes red and swollen from crying. Feeling me stir, she immediately woke up. “You scared me to death, you know that?!” She choked back tears and lunged to embrace me. It had been so long since I’d seen her worry for me, it felt like another lifetime. “You’re lucky to be alive. It’s just a fractured leg, it’ll heal.” Vivian handed me the water from the bedside table, recounting the terrifying ordeal. “Who hit me?” The words left my lips, and she immediately fell silent. Her face held so many emotions—hesitation, evasion—it was hard to tell which predominated. Then she turned and handed me a piece of paper. “Ethan hit you, but it wasn’t on purpose. The road was slick, no one expected it, and he feels really bad…” I looked at the contents of the paper and understood what it meant. “Let’s just settle this privately. It’s best for everyone. Ethan’s life shouldn’t have a blemish, okay?” The momentary, almost dreamlike concern from earlier evaporated, revealing Vivian’s true colors. I paused for a few seconds, then swiftly signed. Vivian jumped up, beaming, but then caught herself, asking, “Sam, are you okay?” I offered a smile that was uglier than a grimace. “I… I’m just happy to be alive, you know?” She didn’t ask anything further. Perhaps there was a mix of genuine guilt in Vivian’s feigned concern, as she spent some time with me during my week-long hospital stay. A flicker of hope stirred within me: if she stayed by my side on New Year’s Eve, maybe I wouldn’t want to die. But that thought didn’t last long. On the morning of New Year’s Eve, she took a call, quickly hung up, and prepared to leave. “Vivian, we haven’t had New Year’s dinner together yet.” My heart screamed at her not to go, not to leave me alone again. “Ethan’s dealing with a patient dispute turned violent. I have to go.” Seeing me still stubbornly holding onto her, Vivian suddenly yelled. “What if the family gets too emotional? Ethan’s life could be in danger! You’re almost fully recovered, don’t be so selfish!” She tore free from my desperate grasp and quickly walked away. She still chose Ethan, between his life and mine. 5 I chose a quiet way to die, though it was somewhat painful. Before slitting my wrists, I drew myself a bath. Despite the on-duty nurse’s repeated warnings not to let my injured leg touch water, I did it anyway. I wanted Vivian to find me clean. The pain from my wrist was more piercing than that in my knee. My consciousness swam, and I could only watch as the bathtub water turned a deep crimson. When we renovated, I specifically chose this tub because Vivian always complained that bathwater got cold too quickly. I spent extra time finding one that could continuously re-heat water. Now, it was stained red by me. I don’t know when I left my body, but after a period of darkness, I opened my eyes to see myself in the bathtub. Lying in shallow red water, my lips still pursed as I departed. Perhaps phasing through walls is a major skill for ghosts, because I found myself watching Vivian and Ethan intertwined on the bed. Vivian, breathing heavily, playfully scolded the man sprawled on her. “You really thought of a good one, tricking me back here with a ‘patient dispute’ excuse.” She started putting on her clothes. “I still need to go see Sam at the hospital. Such a hassle.” I’d heard that word “hassle” from her many times before. It seemed Vivian really did say it often. Ethan, however, wrapped his arms around her waist on the bed, his voice a tempting murmur. “Why don’t you just stay? I really want to be with you until next year.” Their lustful eyes glowed in the dark. If the phone hadn’t rung, I could have predicted what would happen next. “This number’s called several times. Are you sure you don’t want to answer?” I looked over. It was Mr. Henderson’s number. Vivian frowned, taking the phone from Ethan’s hand. The official voice on the other end sounded like a telemarketer. “Is this Ms. Vivian Lee? Your fiancé left you a New Year’s gift, and he asked me to deliver it to you personally.” This clearly spoiled her mood. She refused without a second thought. “I don’t need it. Just throw it away.” But Mr. Henderson persisted. “I can’t. Mr. Roberts insisted that I deliver it directly to you.” “Sam Roberts, he saved up all this money behind my back?” Vivian repeatedly flipped through the contract, making sure her name was indeed listed as the beneficiary. She signed immediately. I stood opposite her. Her excited expression was exactly what I had imagined seeing when I handed her the deed to our wedding home on our wedding day. But when reality played out, I had no chance to be there beside her. Mr. Henderson, ever diligent, said, “Since you’ve signed, I’ll take you to see Mr. Roberts’ wedding home in the city center.” “I’ll have Sam take me himself. He kept such a big surprise from me.” Mr. Henderson insisted on leading the way. Vivian, meanwhile, hummed happily as she called me. Unfortunately, my phone was by the bathtub and couldn’t be answered. “He’s not answering his phone. Alright, Mr. Henderson, please lead the way.” Vivian hummed all the way to the wedding home. Getting money and a house out of nowhere would only make her happy enough to take photos and post on social media. Aside from me not answering my phone, it was a pretty good New Year for her. Mr. Henderson handed her the keys at the door before leaving. Vivian’s steps were light as she surveyed the house, moving from the entryway to the living room, then into the kitchen. She even nodded in satisfaction at the bedroom layout. She didn’t forget to call me, muttering to herself, “Sam, if you don’t answer your phone, I’m going to get angry…” Suddenly, a jarring phone ring echoed through the house. Vivian looked around, startled, searching for the source of the sound, and finally stopped at the bathroom door. Before I could even register her expression, a piercing shriek cut through the air. “Ah——”

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At the corporate gala, Ryan Albright’s assistant, without any sense of propriety, splashed a glass of wine on an investor and then publicly berated him. To retaliate, the investor demanded Vanessa personally atone for it, or he would withdraw his investment. To ensure the company’s successful public listing, Ryan handed me a drink that he’d spiked, then pushed me forward to smooth things over. He looked at me, his eyes filled with a struggling reluctance. “Vanessa is different from you. She just graduated; she’s pure and innocent.” “Daisy, don’t struggle. I will compensate you once the company successfully goes public.” When I fully came to, I looked at the man across from me, my voice hoarse: “The agreement you mentioned, I’ll sign it.” 1 Arthur Grant closed the file in his hands, adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses, and cast a dismissive glance my way, a faint smile playing on his lips. “Then I wish us a pleasant partnership, Ms. Albright.” I looked at his polished, urbane demeanor, my face pale as I recalled the scene from last night. When the smarmy investor had slung his arm around me, ushering me towards a private room, the elevator doors chimed open. Arthur Grant stood perfectly straight inside, like a divine apparition. Seeing the elevator about to close, I immediately cried out to him for help. The man was then viciously beaten to the ground, his gruesome, blood-soaked image still vivid in my mind. I swallowed hard, unsure if my choice was truly the right one. Pushing down my apprehension, I managed to say to him: “Pleasant partnership.” As I gathered my things and left the hotel, I ran straight into Ryan Albright and Vanessa in the lobby. He had his arm intimately around Vanessa. Upon seeing me, Ryan awkwardly released her. Vanessa, however, excitedly rushed forward, feigning concern, her face a mask of gratitude, but her eyes were full of defiance. “Daisy, are you feeling okay?” “Did that old man… hurt you? I’m so sorry, it’s all my fault for being so foolish. If I had known, I would have just put up with his harassment, and you wouldn’t have been… ruined.” The crowd, catching wind of the gossip, fell silent for a moment, secretly scrutinizing me, their gazes a mix of disdain and pity. Ryan, hearing Vanessa’s words, a subtle flicker of disgust crossed his face. He pulled Vanessa back to his side, reprimanding her. “Put up with what?!” “A woman’s self-preservation is paramount.” Watching him ignore me, a wave of bitterness involuntarily washed over my heart. I stepped forward, looking at him through tear-filled eyes. “Ryan, nothing happened last night.” “Do you believe me?” Ryan’s expression froze for a second, a flicker of emotion in his eyes. Vanessa tugged at his sleeve, her red lips pouted, and she said, sounding troubled: “But Mr. Sterling said he’d withdraw his investment if we didn’t make amends to him, and this morning he called Ryan to say the partnership was continuing.” “I know every woman would choose to run from something like this, unable to accept reality.” “But, Daisy, you can’t lie just to save face!” Hearing that, I clenched my fists, glaring at her with resentment. “You shut your mouth!” Last night, as I was shivering and dazed in an ice-cold bath, Arthur Grant pulled me out, dragged me to the wall, and forced me to listen with my ear pressed against it. On the other side of the thin wall, they were popping champagne, celebrating loudly, preemptively toasting to the company’s certain public listing once this deal was secured. Ryan looked at me with displeasure, faulting me for yelling at his young assistant. “Why are you yelling at her? What did she say that was wrong?” I stared at the man before me, tears gradually welling in my eyes. It seemed my uncharacteristic reaction startled Ryan. He uncharacteristically stepped forward, put his arm around my shoulder, and whispered coaxingly: “Daisy.” “You have to believe your sacrifice is valuable. Once the company goes public, I will truly compensate you.” Seeing that I remained silent, impatience gradually showed in his eyes. His tone hardened, and he grudgingly said: “Don’t you just want to marry me?” “I promise you, as soon as the company goes public, we’ll have our wedding.” “Is that enough?!” Looking at his impatient expression, a wave of self-mockery washed over me. Daisy, this is the man you tirelessly pursued, burning everything to stand by his side. The thought of spending my entire life with him had now utterly vanished. I looked up, held back my tears, and looked at him, saying firmly: “No, I don’t want to marry you anymore.” At my words, Vanessa’s face bore a sneer of triumph, and she immediately cheered: “That’s great! You’re not good enough for Ryan anyway!” But Ryan’s face abruptly darkened, his gaze heavy and fixed on me. He said nothing, trying to force my compliance with his silence. In the past, whenever his face fell silent like that, I would immediately apologize and try everything to appease him. But this time, I didn’t avert his gaze. Each word clear and deliberate for him to hear: “Ryan Albright, I’m serious.” “I.” “Don’t want to marry you anymore.” “This relationship ends here.” “Daisy!” He roared my name. I remained unmoving. After a tense staredown, he sneered. “I’ll wait for the day you regret this.” With that, he abandoned me there, pulling Vanessa away. 2 That evening, as I packed my belongings in my apartment, my phone chimed, signaling a new post from a special contact. I opened TikTok and saw a video of Ryan Albright and Vanessa. They were kissing by the ocean, beneath a spectacular fireworks display. Watching the scene, memories washed over me like a tide. When our love was at its peak, he promised to give me the most romantic fireworks show, proposing to me beneath them. I put my phone away. My packed bags and boxes made my heart feel empty. I always thought I’d spend my entire life with Ryan, and I’d bought so many things to decorate my dream home. But leaving, it turned out, wasn’t as hard as I’d imagined. After sending my luggage away, I went straight back to the office. Walking into my office, I found my belongings scattered haphazardly in a corner. The entire room had been redecorated in pink. I looked outside my door. My colleagues avoided my gaze, pretending to be busy with their tasks, heads down and silent, until an imperious voice broke the quiet. “Quick! Throw that table out too! It’s hideous!” “What outdated taste?!” Vanessa walked in, looking triumphantly at me. “Oh, I’m so sorry, but Ryan said this office is mine starting today.” “I saw you hadn’t come in, so I just… tidied your things up a bit.” “Old woman, you’re not mad, are you?” I merely glanced at her, ignoring her, and instead crouched down in the corner, searching for a trophy that was very important to me, but I couldn’t find it anywhere. I looked up, fixing my gaze on Vanessa. “Where did you hide my trophy?” Vanessa pulled out a cylindrical glass trophy from her desk. “Are you talking about this cheap trinket?” I extended my hand towards her. “Give it back.” She looked at me, her eyes filled with malice, her red lips curling scornfully. I had a bad feeling, and I was about to snatch the trophy from her. The next moment, the trophy was violently smashed onto the floor. I froze, staring at the glass shards on the ground. The rage I had suppressed for so long finally erupted, and I shoved her away. “What the hell gives you the right to smash it?!” This trophy was the first National Innovation Award I’d won in college. It was thanks to the success of this project that Ryan Albright’s company was able to get off the ground in its early stages. It was only later, when the company lacked clients, that I abandoned my beloved R&D work and shifted to sales. Since then, the trophy had always sat in the most prominent place, a reminder to myself never to abandon my original aspirations. I had originally planned to ask him to let me step back and return to research and development after we married. I crouched down, picking up the metal base. My name and honors were inscribed on it. Even broken, I would gather the remnants. Behind me, I suddenly heard soft whimpers and Ryan’s enraged voice. “Daisy! What did you do?!” I turned around, my heart pounding. Vanessa flung herself into Ryan’s arms, her face streaming with tears. There was a smear of blood on her elbow, pierced by a shard of glass. “Waaah… it hurts so much, dear Ryan…” Ryan cupped her elbow, tenderly blowing on it, then glared at me, saying angrily: “Daisy, how can you be so vicious? Was your good-girl act all a facade?” “It was my decision to have Vanessa take your place! You don’t have the guts to confront me, so you bully a simple, freshly-graduated girl, taking your anger out on her!” I stood up, looking at them. I thought back. I had indeed pushed Vanessa, but I hadn’t pushed her to the ground. My peripheral vision could still tell if anyone was nearby. “I didn’t do it.” “If you didn’t do it, who did?! Are you going to say you didn’t push her?! Do you think I’m blind?! Still trying to argue when you’re caught red-handed!” The colleagues outside, hearing the commotion, covertly peered in. “Get over here and apologize to Vanessa right now!” “You have no situational awareness whatsoever! How did you ever manage sales all these years?! Your quotas?!” “Was it all by schmoozing clients beyond professional boundaries?!” I clutched the metal base in my hand, the humiliation in my heart surged, and my suppressed indignation uncontrollably spilled out. I was leaving anyway. Better to say my piece now. My eyes blazing with anger, I roared at him: “Ryan Albright, how can you insult me like this? Do you have any conscience left?!” “How much have I sacrificed for this company over the years?! Drinking until my stomach bled! Staying up until dawn to revise proposals! You’re right, you are blind!” “Now you’re not just completely denying all my hard work and achievements! You’re throwing dirt on my name too!” “Who told you this? Vanessa?” “You trust her that much?! You’ve only known her for half a year!” With that, I glared at him. Ryan was speechless for a moment. He hadn’t expected me, usually so compliant, to defy him. His face instantly darkened. He felt utterly humiliated in front of his employees. I didn’t want to deal with them anymore. Just as I was about to leave, Ryan’s hand suddenly grabbed my arm with force. SLAP! A powerful slap landed on my face, and a ringing filled my ears. Everyone froze in shock. “You hurt someone and think you can just run off? There’s no such easy way out in this world!” “Vanessa and I may have only known each other for half a year, but she’s purer and cleaner than you! How could a freshly-graduated person possibly play the games you’ve been navigating in the world of men for years?!” “I trust that she wouldn’t lie to me.” “And right now, she’s injured, while you stand there unharmed!” I clutched my face, staring at him in disbelief, a wave of bitterness washing over me. Even in our worst arguments before, he had never laid a hand on me. Today, for Vanessa, he broke that rule. There is no greater sorrow than a dead heart. Everything I wanted to say was trapped in my throat. At this point, I no longer wanted to argue. “Dear Ryan, please don’t argue with Daisy over me.” At that moment, Vanessa, who had been feigning fragility in Ryan’s arms, let out a soft, sobbing whimper. “My wrist hurts so much.” Ryan frantically scooped her up. As he left, he glanced at me, issuing three commands. “I’m transferring you to Maplewood County.” “You can come back when you’ve reflected enough.” “Pack your things and get out.” 3 Just as I checked out of the hotel, Mrs. Albright, Ryan’s mother, suddenly contacted me. She was one of the few people here who truly cared for me. “Sweetheart, did you and Ryan have a fight?” “I went to the company yesterday, didn’t see you, and Mikey told me you were transferred to Maplewood County. Tell your Auntie what Ryan did wrong, and I’ll make him fix it.” I gently moved Mrs. Albright’s hand from mine and said solemnly: “Auntie, Ryan and I have broken up.” “I’m leaving today, and I might not come back.” “Broken up!” Mrs. Albright sat up straight in shock, looking at me with concern. “Did Ryan do something wrong?” … “Is it that new assistant he hired?” A flicker of sadness crossed my eyes. “Ryan and I have already cleared things up. Thank you for all your care before.” “My flight is this afternoon, and time is running out, so I won’t bother you any longer.” I stood up, grabbed my suitcase, and prepared to leave. Mrs. Albright stopped me, clutching my luggage, refusing to let go. “Sweetheart, listen to Auntie. Men will be men; they all stray sometimes. He just made a mistake any man would make.” “Believe me, as long as you marry Ryan, with me backing you up, those little home-wreckers outside won’t shake your position one bit! I only recognize you as a part of the Albright family!” Just then, a sound came from the doorway. I turned to look, and it was Ryan. Mrs. Albright happily went to meet him. “Sweetheart, look, Ryan’s back! He still cares about you very much. Hurry and clear up this misunderstanding, and you can get married next month.” Ryan’s face abruptly darkened when he heard the word “married.” He stormed towards me with an air of fury. “Daisy! Who gave you the nerve?! You dared to come bother my mother again, making her trick me into coming home?!” “You’re just using my mother’s affection for you, trying to pressure me, aren’t you?” “Didn’t you say you didn’t want to get married when I brought it up before?” As he spoke, a smug expression actually spread across his face, and he looked at me triumphantly. “Regretting it now, aren’t you?” “I knew you couldn’t let me go, that you didn’t want to go to Maplewood County.” “Just beg me, then get on your knees and apologize to Vanessa, and I’ll keep you at the company. How about it?” “As for marriage, since you missed one chance, we’ll see about your performance next time.” Mrs. Albright frowned, immediately sensing something was wrong. She patted Ryan’s arm and said: “How can you talk like that?” “Daisy didn’t seek me out; I sought her out.” “You better promise Daisy you’ll fire that little home-wrecker and never contact her again!” Ryan scoffed. “Well, isn’t this something, Daisy. You’re quite popular with older people, both men and women. You’ve got my mom completely charmed, making her listen to your every word.” I looked at the mother and son, and the last shred of goodwill I had completely vanished. I went along with his words. “Fine. As long as you fire Vanessa and get on your knees to apologize to me, I’ll marry you immediately.” Ryan was taken aback, an “I knew it” expression spreading across his face. “You wish.” Just then, his phone suddenly rang, its distinct ringtone echoing through the room. I remembered. So many times before, when that ringtone sounded, he would avoid me to answer the call. “Hello, Vanessa, what’s wrong?” My dead heart still felt a momentary prick of pain, like a needle. So they had been having an affair all along. “Okay, wait right there for me. I’ll be right there.” Mrs. Albright grabbed his sleeve. “No! You’re not going anywhere today! Apologize properly to Sweetheart! I want Daisy as my daughter-in-law!” “I want a daughter-in-law! I want grandchildren!” Ryan impatiently glared at me. “Mom, stop messing around.” With that, he pushed his mother aside and left without looking back. Mrs. Albright clutched her bruised waist, staring in shock at the empty doorway, slapping her thigh and wailing: “What a disgrace to the family! My son’s forsaking a woman of good fortune to marry a troublemaker!” Then she looked at me, saying pitifully: “Sweetheart, please take Auntie to the hospital. Auntie will definitely make Ryan come to his senses.” I frowned, glancing at my watch. Time was already short. I refused: “I’ll call an ambulance for you.” “Goodbye.” As I left, I heard a chorus of wails and cries from behind me. By the time I boarded my plane, news of Arthur Grant and the Grant family heiress’s engagement had already dominated trending topics. The accompanying photo was a candid shot of Arthur Grant and me at the reception. And my fiancé by contract was already waiting for me at the airport.

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My wealthy roommate, Brittany, despised me for being from a small town, And rallied her clique to ostracize me. Loudly, she’d announce to the dorm that she was inviting everyone to her favorite pop star’s concert. When someone asked if I should come along, She’d sneer: “Look at the clothes she wears, clearly from some discount online store.” “Taking someone like that to my idol’s concert? How embarrassing!” Later, her secret crush wore the very same T-shirt I bought from that discount online store, and confessed his feelings for me at the campus singing competition. 1 “Brittany, you and Ethan are just perfect together!” It was 9PM. I hadn’t even reached the door yet, but I could already hear my roommates’ excited chatter from afar. The moment I opened the door, Brittany’s expression was as if she’d seen something unclean. She immediately hid her poster, scrambled onto her top bunk, clutched her nose, and peered over the edge of her bed, looking at me with undisguised disdain. “Cassie, you stink!” I had just finished my shift at a busy diner, so I probably did have a bit of a scent clinging to me, but I’d already changed into fresh clothes and even brought them bubble tea. “Sorry, Brittany. I’ll shower right away. Here’s the bubble tea I brought for you all.” Olivia, one of my roommates, happily took her tea, murmuring thanks. “Hmph. Such cheap bubble tea. Even a dog wouldn’t drink it.” Brittany said this with her lips curled downwards, looking utterly repulsed. My roommates, seeing her sour expression, quietly returned the bubble tea to me. “Oh, sorry, Cassie! I’m on a diet lately.” “I can’t sleep if I drink bubble tea.” I made $15 an hour from my part-time job, and each bubble tea cost $13. I’d bought three for them, not even indulging myself. I bit back my tears, forced a faint smile, set the bubble tea aside, and headed for the shower. “Her poverty stench is disgusting me. Does anyone have an air freshener?” Listening to their blatant insults, watching my belongings carelessly tossed aside, I hid in the bathroom, crying silently. It had been a year. I had tried to fit in, as my Dean of Students advised. But all I got in return was increasingly aggressive ostracism. Brittany had bought the washing machine, so I understood why she forbade me from using it. But why couldn’t I even hang my clothes on the dorm balcony? They always took half an hour or more to shower, yet they would frantically rush me if I took more than ten minutes. Every night, they’d blast their pop star videos until two or three in the morning, then complain the next day that my early morning class woke them up. … Grin and bear it, and you’ll just get sick. I decided to reject mental self-sabotage. If there was trouble, I’d just go wild. 2 The next day, they skipped all their afternoon classes to get ready for the concert that night. I returned to the dorm after my classes to find my belongings completely ransacked and scattered everywhere. “Cassie, you little thief, give me back my necklace!” Before I could even lose it, Brittany rushed at me like a madwoman. “What necklace?” I looked utterly confused. “Cassie, don’t play innocent! In this dorm, besides you, who would steal something?” Brittany’s loud voice immediately drew the attention of everyone on the floor. “I’ve never seen any necklace of yours, much less stolen it.” The three of them always went everywhere together, never including me. I had no idea she even owned such a thing. The onlookers, eager for drama, all asked what the necklace looked like, curious if anyone had seen it. “It’s a necklace endorsed by Jax, my idol! I bought it specially for tonight’s concert.” Brittany cried as she pulled out her phone, opening her photo gallery. “Brittany, without any proof, don’t keep accusing me of stealing.” I knew I was innocent, but I feared she’d twist the truth and damage my reputation for future scholarship applications. “You’re always secretly using my skincare products when we’re not around, don’t think I don’t know.” Brittany’s baseless accusation infuriated me. Her things were often scattered, and sometimes she didn’t even know if something was lost or misplaced, but whenever she couldn’t find something, she’d imply in the dorm that I had stolen it. “Seriously? Who’d want to use your skincare products? Anyone who uses them ends up with terrible breakouts, okay?” “Fine! Let’s see who ends up with a ruined face from using whose!” As Brittany started railing at me, her clique joined in, launching a full-scale assault. “Cassie, have some boundaries, okay?” “Yeah, it’s disgusting living with someone who’s always shoplifting like you.” “Oh really? Well, today I’m going to see who truly has no boundaries.” With that, I walked straight to their desks and began searching. “Brittany, is this the Fenty eyeshadow palette you accused me of stealing?” “Is this your NARS blush?” “Is this your Dior lipstick?” I placed each found item in front of Brittany, her eyes wide with disbelief. Because she knew, Olivia and Sophia weren’t much better off than me, just regular girls. “Brittany, don’t listen to her, she’s just trying to frame us.” “Yeah, Brittany. She’s just jealous that you’re friends with us and not with her.” Seeing their lies exposed, the two quickly moved to Brittany’s side, gripping her hands. “Brittany, you’re not stupid, are you? Didn’t you ever suspect anything about the makeup they usually wear?” I stood to the side, fanning the flames, thoroughly enjoying the show. “Uh, Brittany, that necklace on your phone… I think I’ve seen Cassie wear something similar.” Harper, a student from the next dorm, catching a glimpse of the photo on Brittany’s phone, suddenly blurted out. 3 “Cassie, it was you after all! A thief crying thief!” Brittany snapped back to reality, yelling that she would tell the Dean of Students. The surrounding students all urged her not to blow things out of proportion. “Cassie, if you took it, just give it back!” “Yeah! If the Dean finds out, you might get a demerit!” “I didn’t.” I stood my ground, unmoving. “You didn’t? Do you dare open your drawer right now, in front of all these students?” Brittany’s makeup was streaked from crying, a clear sign she wasn’t going to let me off easy today. I didn’t argue. I pulled the key from my bag and unlocked my drawer. Brittany roughly shoved me aside and started rummaging through it herself. “What are you doing? Those are my things.” I was about to stop her, but her clique held me back. “What’s this?” After emptying the cabinet, she finally found a necklace and dangled it in front of me. “That’s mine.” I stepped forward, trying to snatch it back, but she sidestepped, making me miss. “You say it’s yours, so tell me, where did you buy it? Do you have the order number? A receipt?” Her questions left me speechless. In reality, someone had forced it around my neck, and I had completely forgotten about it. “What, speechless now? Did I hit a nerve? Feeling guilty?” Brittany laughed triumphantly, like a victor. “Someone gave it to me. I don’t have a receipt, and I don’t have an order number.” “Hmph, then call him out! I’d like to see what kind of person would be interested in you, dressed in cheap discount store clothes.” Brittany’s challenging glare shot straight at me, making me deeply uncomfortable. “He’s busy today, not on campus.” Although a certain someone would drop everything for me, and even wanted me to publicly acknowledge our relationship, I didn’t want to drag him into this and make him witness such ugliness. “Hahahaha, Cassie, do you even hear yourself?!” The surrounding students looked at me with suspicion, tacitly assuming I was the thief, whispering and pointing. Brittany watched my humiliation, her eyes gleaming with cunning and triumph. I seized an opportune moment when she wasn’t paying attention, snatched the necklace back, and held it high, allowing the code on the back of the pendant to clearly show in the light. “This necklace, each one is unique. The code hidden in the pendant contains a vow of love. Just check it, and you’ll know if I’m lying.” “I’ve seen interviews with Jax, and I think there’s something like that.” A few students stepped forward, confirming my statement. “Hmph, I’d like to see what tricks you can pull!” Brittany opened the official website, entered her ID number, and looked up the necklace’s code. Everyone leaned in, their eyes focused on the necklace and the phone. “They really are different, wow.” Brittany’s face instantly changed. She quickly snatched back her phone. “So what if it’s different? That doesn’t mean she didn’t steal it, does it?” “My necklace has a three-digit code. Do you think I’d even care about your eight-digit junk necklace?!” The fewer digits in this necklace’s code, the purer and more exclusive the love it represented; eight-digit codes were for regular, non-limited editions. Luckily, a certain someone’s cheesy romantic lines had some effect. “Could she be… kept? Otherwise, where would a country girl like you get the money to buy something like that?” Brittany’s passive-aggressive tone made me want to punch her. “Does spreading rumors make you feel accomplished? Believe it or not, I’ll call the police right now and charge you with defamation.” “You…” Brittany’s face flushed crimson with anger, and she was speechless. “Brittany, I’m telling you. If you don’t apologize to me, pack up my things, and compensate me for my losses, this isn’t over between us.” Brittany was about to continue arguing, but Olivia pulled her aside. “Brittany, your last disciplinary action hasn’t been lifted yet. It’s not good to blow things up.” “Yeah, if we keep arguing, we’ll be late for the concert too.” Brittany, after a moment of hesitation and thought, took out her phone and transferred ten thousand dollars to me on her banking app. “Cassie, I won’t touch your things, and I won’t apologize to you. Just be smart, take the money, and shut your mouth.” I took out my phone and looked, a mischievous smile playing on my lips. I’m quite fond of money, and since I had the moral high ground, I certainly wouldn’t turn it down. “Thanks! If you have too much money you don’t know what to do with, feel free to pull a few more stunts. I’m more than happy to see them through.” That night, they returned to the dorm after the concert, constantly eyeing me with strange expressions. Brittany deliberately pushed Olivia towards me, subtly trying to get information. “Cassie! What’s your relationship with Noah?” 4 Noah is the heartthrob of the Computer Science department, and also Brittany’s secret crush. “Is something wrong?” After the afternoon’s commotion, the atmosphere in the dorm had become noticeably awkward. “Well, we saw him downstairs near the dorm earlier, and he asked if we knew you. He wanted us to bring you some late-night snacks.” Brittany sat in her chair, occasionally sneaking glances at me, clearly eager for my answer. “Oh, really? So, where are the snacks?” I casually tidied my desk, a little distracted. “Brittany said she didn’t know you, so she didn’t take them.” Olivia scratched her head, looking a bit embarrassed. I shrugged, feigning indifference. “So, what’s your relationship with him?” Olivia, under Brittany’s intimidating gaze, nervously pressed on. “Guess.” I let a slight, playful smile play on my lips. “Guess what? How could Noah even like her? A country bumpkin, utterly tasteless.” Brittany leaped from her chair, her face etched with impatience. “No need to guess. The truth is exactly what you’re imagining.” I said this, a faint smile playing on my lips, making it sound like a joke. They stared at me blankly, clearly not believing a word I said. “No, it’s not a joke!” I dropped my playful expression, turning serious. “Hmph! You say it is, then it is? If you’re so brave, video call him right now!” Seeing Brittany’s half-skeptical, half-challenging look, I almost burst out laughing. “Why should I listen to you?” Brittany’s lips pressed into a thin line, her teeth grinding audibly. “Noah is my idol, he’s my guy. I won’t allow you to fabricate a relationship with him.” Watching Brittany seethe with frustration was incredibly satisfying. “In that case, why don’t you ask him?” I paused for a moment, then pursed my lips into a smile, continuing. “Could it be… you don’t even have his number? Oh, how sad.” Brittany, hit by my words, glared at me fiercely, her hands clenched into fists, knuckles white with strain. “Though, you did say you didn’t know me when you were in front of him earlier. Otherwise, I would’ve given you his number.” A subtle, mocking smile played on my lips. Brittany finally couldn’t take it anymore. Tears welled up in her eyes, eventually spilling down her cheeks in crystal drops.

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My husband, David, didn’t love me, and he certainly didn’t love our son. The day Finn was born, David didn’t even glance at him, just thrust him into my arms. Years later, on Finn’s eighth birthday, The man, usually so distant, came home for the first time, completely drunk, and held Finn and me in his arms. I thought the years of frozen indifference were finally melting. But then I heard him, his voice slurred, endlessly murmuring the names of his “sunshine” and her son. And that day was precisely when his “sunshine” had returned from overseas. Finn, with his congenital hearing impairment, still clung to his father’s neck, asking me joyfully: “Mommy, is it because I scored a hundred on my test that Daddy finally likes me?” I knelt, pulling him into my embrace, explaining through reddened eyes: “It’s because the person Daddy loves has returned, so Daddy is very happy.” “But we also need to leave Daddy and live our own lives now.” 1 The next morning, I submitted my resignation at the office. Mr. Davis, my manager, looked at me in surprise: “You’re resigning?” “Mr. Evans just promoted you to department head. Why would you resign now?” Hearing that familiar name, the smile on my face stiffened even further. Mark Evans was my boss, and the father of my child. Nine years ago, I was his personal assistant. One wild night, fueled by alcohol, we had a child. This year marked our eighth year of a hidden marriage. And his eighth year of forbidding our son from calling him “Dad.” Thinking of the hope in Finn’s eyes last night, and the name David had continuously whispered. I used the excuse I’d prepared long ago, telling Mr. Davis: “Finn’s father has settled abroad and called us to join him, so we can finally be a complete family.” Hearing this, Mr. Davis nodded understandingly: “I see. We thought you were a single mom.” A single mom? Hearing that term, I couldn’t help but let out a bitter laugh. My eyes were full of unshed tears. I wasn’t a single mom, but I was worse off than one. I had a husband, my son had a father, yet he wouldn’t spare us even a glance. The tears welling in my eyes became impossible to hold back. I quickly thanked Mr. Davis and walked out of the office. In the hallway, David was showing Chloe around the company. The woman walked ahead, a gentle smile on her face. David walked behind her, his eyes never leaving her. A female colleague, Maya, unaware of the truth, pulled me over to watch the spectacle. “Hey, Grace, do you think Mr. Evans is finally thawing out?” I managed a strained smile. An iron tree blooms only after decades. But David… Even if I waited a lifetime, he would never truly look at me. In the fleeting moment we passed, I couldn’t help but call out to him: “Dav…” I’d barely started when David shot me a chilling glare. “Assistant Miller, do you need something?” His distant words held a warning, a warning for me to swallow the words in my mouth. A warning for me to remember my place. I lowered my eyes, using my last bit of strength to hide the redness in their corners. “My apologies, Mr. Evans.” David grunted in acknowledgment, not breaking his stride, as if he were passing a stranger. I laughed at myself, swallowing the news of my resignation I had originally intended to tell him. He wouldn’t care anyway. Sitting back at my desk, I saw a voice message from Finn on his smart watch. “Mommy, I thought about it. Let’s give Daddy three more chances, okay?” “If… he really doesn’t like us, then we’ll leave him forever.” Last night, after I suggested to Finn that we leave David. Finn had been silent for a long time. He didn’t understand why his father didn’t like him. Nor did he understand why his father would give such a precious gift to a child he didn’t like. He just held out the toy in his hand to me. “But Mommy, Daddy just gave me a gift. If he doesn’t like me, why would he give me a gift?” His expression was so eager, so desperate to prove he was a child loved by his father. I parted my lips, but no words came out. He was still small; he didn’t understand the complexities between adults. He couldn’t even clearly hear his father’s murmurs when David held him. He just mistook that name for his own. Mistook that love as a belated gift for himself. I kissed Finn’s forehead, fighting the urge to sob, and said with a smile: “Daddy gave you a gift because you’ve been doing your homework so well lately.” “But, Daddy… he doesn’t like us staying in his house…” “Mommy will take you away, okay?” Finn pulled back his hand, clutching the toy David had given him tightly. He didn’t speak another word all night. Looking at Finn’s request now, I swallowed my tears and answered, “Okay.” David, Finn and I will give you three more chances. After three chances. You and us, we’ll be done. 2 Hearing me agree, Finn excitedly made his first request. He wanted his dad to pick him up from school. Finn had told me before. From kindergarten to elementary, every kid had their dad pick them up from school. Only he didn’t. I knew this was Finn’s hope, so I swallowed my pride and called David. The call was immediately hung up. He sent a text message with just two words. “Busy now.” It was his usual line. But from my desk, I could see him and Chloe in the break room, deep in conversation, looking quite intimate. When someone passed by, he instinctively pulled Chloe closer, his eyes filled with an undeniable tenderness. Pushing down the bitterness in my heart, I sent David another message. “Finn wants you to pick him up from school today. Are you free tonight?” From the break room, I saw David pick up his phone, then put it down less than three seconds later, his expression unchanged. Looking at the chat screen, which remained without a reply, I gave a self-deprecating laugh. I asked Mr. Davis for some time off, planning to leave work early to buy Finn some of his favorite snacks. While snacks couldn’t fully compensate for his dad not being there, I couldn’t let Finn be hurt anymore. But just as I finished checking out at the grocery store, David, as if he’d just seen my message, replied: “Okay.” A surge of surprise instantly filled my heart. I practically couldn’t wait to message Finn: “Finn, be a good boy at the school gate.” “Today, Daddy and Mommy will pick you up from school together!” Without even seeing Finn’s reply, I could already imagine his excited expression. His little hands clapping, showing off his two small canine teeth, burrowing into our embrace, Sweetly calling out “Daddy” and “Mommy.” That was the happiest scene I had imagined in eight years of marriage. At Finn’s school gate, I looked around but didn’t see David. Thinking he might be delayed, I quickly sent him another message, urging him. Soon, Finn’s class emerged. He rushed towards me, just as I’d imagined, full of excitement. But seeing only me, he froze, a little dazed. Finn lowered his head, adjusted his backpack strap, and asked me: “He didn’t want to come, did he?” Then, he smiled, pretending not to care, with an air of maturity beyond his years. “It’s okay. Daddy’s busy, I understand.” Listening to Finn’s understanding words, my chest felt as if it were crushed by a heavy stone. The pain was so intense I could barely breathe. “Finn, it’s okay. Mommy’s here, isn’t she?” “And I bought you lots of your favorite snacks.” “And a Transformer toy, too.” I sniffled, quickly pulling out the gifts I’d prepared for him. But in my haste, I fumbled, and the items in my hand scattered across the ground with a clatter. Finn knelt down, carefully putting everything back into the bag, one by one. He tugged my hand and said: “Mommy, let’s go home.” I nodded, and on the side Finn couldn’t see, I wiped away my tears. I took out my phone, intending to call a car to go home. But as soon as I opened my phone, I saw Chloe’s social media post. In the photo, the usually stern man wore a smile I had never seen before. His arms were open, embracing a strange little boy. And their location was at Finn’s school. I looked up, searching frantically, and then suddenly caught sight of that familiar figure. David was wearing the coat I had given him last year for our wedding anniversary. I suppressed my emotions, picked up Finn, and started walking away. Finn’s voice, suddenly very soft, reached my ear: “Mommy, that looks like Daddy.” I pressed Finn’s forehead to my chest, shielding his view, biting my lip hard. “Silly boy, you’re mistaken. How could that be Daddy?” “Daddy just told Mommy he’s in a meeting.” “When Daddy finishes his meeting, he’ll bring you your favorite cake.” I forced a smile, trying to comfort Finn. I held him even tighter. David, if you knew that you had only two chances left with Finn and me, Would you regret it? 3 David came home the next afternoon. He carried a cake, a rare hint of apology on his face. “Sorry, I was too busy yesterday. Couldn’t pick up Finn. My bad.” He certainly owed an apology, but I wouldn’t accept it. The damage was done; no amount of compensation could cover it. I silently took the cake, And was surprised to find it was truly Finn’s favorite teddy bear cake. In eight years of marriage, David had never remembered Finn’s preferences. For Finn’s last birthday, I was the one who bought the gifts and cake. He merely made an appearance. The gift he gave Finn then was just a freebie from the gift he bought for Chloe’s son. Now, looking at the cake before me, I had a bad feeling. But Finn was overjoyed. He excitedly hugged David and said: “Uncle, thank you.” Watching Finn’s lips, I knew he had meant to say “Daddy.” But in this moment of happiness, he feared David might show any displeasure. And then he wouldn’t like him anymore. Finn’s thoughtfulness and caution made my eyes sting. I was about to say something to David, But he suddenly pulled me aside. As if he had something to say. “I heard from Chloe that Finn’s school is having a parent-child sports day.” “Chloe is alone with her son, and they just moved here. They don’t know anyone.” “I want to attend with them.” Hearing his words, I felt a chill spread through my entire body. My gaze drifted to Finn, who was happily eating cake in the living room. I said nothing. He seemed to sense my mood. He parted his lips, his tone softening unusually: “You can spend whatever you want from the card. Find an excuse, take Finn on a trip abroad.” “Otherwise, he’ll be unhappy if he sees me with someone else.” He said it so easily. But he already knew Chloe’s son and Finn were at the same school. And he knew Finn would be unhappy seeing him play with someone else’s child. Yet he still chose to do this. He’d rather I lie, to deceive our son. Than not accompany Chloe and her son. My nails dug into my palms. I looked at the man I had spent so many years with, And felt like he was a complete stranger. He didn’t know, He had lost another chance. He had only one chance left. “Understood.” “I’ll pack our things as quickly as possible and take Finn away. We won’t disturb you.” Since we were leaving anyway, a little sooner or later made no difference. Seeing my prompt agreement, David was taken aback. “I will compensate you two.” I didn’t look up, just remained silent. After David left, I thought for a moment, then delicately told Finn about it. “Finn, Daddy might not be able to join you for the parent-child sports day this weekend.” “Mommy’s thinking of taking you to Disneyland instead. How does that sound?” Finn’s happy expression from eating cake froze. He asked me, a little confused: “Daddy’s not coming to the sports day, but Mommy can come with me. Why do we have to go to Disneyland?” I clutched my clothes, afraid to meet Finn’s eyes: “Because, Mommy doesn’t want those other kids to laugh at you for not having a daddy anymore.” But Finn calmly opened his arms, embracing me, As if to comfort me: “It’s okay, Mommy. I’m already used to it.” “Don’t be sad.” I froze, tears finally streaming down my face, unstoppable. How could I tell Finn the cruel truth? Should I tell him that his father didn’t want to see him because he was going to play with other children? Or should I tell him that his father didn’t love us, only others and their children? I couldn’t say anything. I could only silently swallow the bitterness and heartache, and as before, protect my child with a sugarcoated truth. I kissed Finn’s forehead, wiping away my tears where he couldn’t see them. This was a mother’s pretense, maintained even in ultimate pain. I knelt down, holding Finn’s small hand, forcing a smile. “Finn…” But before I could finish, Finn spoke first: “Mommy, does Daddy really not want us anymore?” 4 “No, Finn, no.” I shook my head, not wanting Finn to be so sad, desperately trying to deny the truth. I wanted to tell him, Dad still has one more chance. To tell him not to rush. But Finn, instead, took my hand, drawing closer into my embrace. “Mommy, let’s go. I don’t want to give Uncle another chance anymore.” I looked up in disbelief, only to see Finn’s eyes slightly red. My child, so well-behaved, so understanding. All he ever wanted was a tiny bit of affection from his own father. Just a little bit. He used to think his dad disliked him because he wasn’t good at school, which was why he wouldn’t let him call him “Dad.” But he studied so hard, getting perfect scores in every subject, even insisting on going to class when he had a fever. David, still wouldn’t let him say “Dad.” Later, he thought his dad disliked him because of his bad hearing, not being able to understand people. So no matter how painful the surgeries and treatments were, he insisted I take him to the hospital. But now, his hearing was gradually recovering. David had still not given him a single smile. Instead, he whispered another person’s name in his ear. My heart ached so much I could barely breathe. Closing my eyes, I agreed to Finn’s request. “Okay.” David, this time, Finn and I, we won’t want you anymore. We started packing our luggage together. Everything David had ever given to Finn and me, we left it all behind in that house. Finn’s face was bright with a radiant smile again. Like a little man, he helped me carry the luggage downstairs. And the day our flight took off, Was also the day David was supposed to attend Chloe’s son’s parent-child sports day. The night before, he had been afraid we would disturb his and Chloe’s family happiness. He made a special trip home to see us. His attitude was unusually gentle. He even took the initiative to hold a gift, wanting to hug Finn. But facing the embrace of the father he had once yearned for, Finn pulled away. He stood to the side, not taking David’s gift, and said: “Thank you, Uncle David. You can just put the gift on the coffee table.” Hearing the title Finn used, A flicker of panic suddenly crossed David’s face. He looked at me in disbelief: “Finn… what did he call me?” I smiled, feeling a bitter irony. “Isn’t this what you always wanted, Mr. Evans?” Eight years of hidden marriage, David not only kept our relationship a secret. He never even let Finn call him “Dad.” The only difference was, Before, he forced Finn to call him “Uncle.” Now, Finn was actively drawing a line between them. David looked at me, his eyes complex: “Is this about the parent-child sports day?” “I can explain it to Finn.” I reminded him: “Then what about Chloe? How will you explain it to her and her son?” David seemed to just realize, reluctantly releasing my hand. I scoffed, and took Finn’s hand, ready to leave. Only then did David notice the packed luggage of Finn and me. He asked, surprised: “You’re going on a trip abroad, do you need to bring this much luggage?” I smiled calmly: “Yes, when a child travels, they need to bring a lot of things.” “Mr. Evans has never taken care of a child, so it’s normal that you wouldn’t know.” In those few short sentences, I clearly articulated David’s indifference to our family over the years. A rare look of apology and panic appeared on his face. He blocked our path to the car and said: “When’s your flight? I’ll drive you.” “Tomorrow.” I said it directly. Because I knew he would absolutely not show up tomorrow. David froze for a moment, saying nothing, only telling us: “Then be careful, you’re traveling alone with the child.” His concerned eyes met ours. But we, we no longer cared. Waking up the next day, I took Finn into the private car bound for the airport. Just as we arrived at the airport, preparing to check in our luggage, I heard a voice behind me: “Grace, Finn!” David, who should have been at the parent-child sports day, came rushing, his face beaming as he looked at us: “Finn, how about Daddy comes with you to Orlando Disney? Are you happy?” This was the first time he had openly acknowledged himself as Finn’s father. But looking at the suitcase in his hand, Finn waved his hand, decisively refusing: “No, thank you, Uncle David. Mommy and I are going to Australia to find my dad.” “Please don’t disturb us anymore.”

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Willow. Her name meant grace, but her reality was anything but. A daily smoky eye, a mouth full of curses, a true rebel kid. The neighbors would say, “Just what you’d expect from a gambling addict’s spawn.” The teachers would say, “She’s ruining the school’s reputation.” Everyone called her a lost cause, mud that wouldn’t stick to a wall. Yet, she was the least of their worries. She left home to work right after high school, and at 20, married out of spite to her own father. But her luck in love was terrible. Far from living happily ever after, She got the whole package deal of misery: cruel, greedy in-laws, a selfish, deceitful husband, and a rebellious, cold daughter. She fell ill and passed away before forty, and her husband openly flirted with another woman at her funeral. It was utterly tragic. And I. I was determined to rewrite her destiny. 1 It all began when I crossed back in time to the year 2000, into the body of someone dying from an incurable illness. No, not dying. Already dead. The girl’s name was Skylar. Though terminally ill, she was born with a silver spoon in her mouth; her parents doted on her. In some ways, she was infinitely luckier than me—a person who, though perfectly healthy and full of life, had a dad who didn’t care and a mom who didn’t love her. Alright, I admit there’s a tiny bit of jealousy in that statement. Despite the unscientific event of transmigration, I could feel it: the cancer cells hadn’t slowed their invasion and destruction of this body. I died in a car crash and was reborn, but not completely. “Sky.” The hospital room door pushed open, and a beautiful woman, her face shadowed by a faint veil of sorrow, yet forcing a smile, walked in, followed by five or six household staff. The woman was the mother of the girl whose body I now inhabited. Sky was her nickname. “How are you feeling today? Anywhere uncomfortable?” Honestly, I felt uncomfortable everywhere. Since I’d arrived, it had been less than half a month, and I’d already undergone five rounds of chemotherapy. Each one felt like the agony of being flayed alive. But facing Eleanor, Skylar’s mother, at this moment, I could only put on a brave face. “I think I have a bit more energy than yesterday.” Eleanor’s eyes instantly sparkled with dazzling hope. She rushed to the bedside, scooping up my hand as if it were a fragile piece of porcelain. “Really? Oh, then, do you feel like eating anything, Sky? Mommy made your favorite mini pastries today, they’re still warm! Want a bite?” I truly had no appetite, but for the sake of a mother’s heartfelt kindness, I could manage a bite. But Eleanor still noticed my hesitation and immediately had the pastries taken away. “Sky,” Eleanor forced a smile, “Your eighteenth birthday is coming up soon. Have you thought about how you want to celebrate?” I thought for a moment, then told her what was, for both me and the original Skylar, the greatest desire so far. “Mom, I want to go to school.” 2 The year 2000, Northwood High. If this wasn’t a parallel universe, then… “Hey, hey, move it, pal! Get out of the way, will ya?” A sharp retort interrupted my thoughts, followed by a flash of a girl—her uniform jacket tied at her waist, wearing a short skirt even in the dead of winter—dashing past me. A gust of cold wind followed in her wake. “Miss! That student was so rude! Are you feeling alright? Should we go back to the doctor–” My private nurse, Ben, who was here as a chaperone, nervously rushed over, fussing with concern, afraid I couldn’t handle the sudden draft. “I’m fine.” Cutting off Ben’s incessant chatter, I looked at the distant figure who had already run off, lost in thought. Ben quietly closed his mouth, but began to watch our surroundings constantly. After that incident, he was even more on edge. Thankfully, everything went smoothly afterward. After completing the registration process at the administrative office, our homeroom teacher led us to my new classroom. Senior Year, Class 9. It was silent reading time, but a few students stood haphazardly at the classroom door, all looking utterly blasé. Among them was the girl in the short skirt I’d seen moments ago. She stood out conspicuously among the boys, leaning against the wall, head bowed, her brightly colored hair falling over her face. Seeing the nurse, the hand pushing my wheelchair instinctively tightened. “Miss, isn’t that the one from earlier…” I gave him a cool glance, and Ben immediately shut up, though his face still showed confusion. Hearing the commotion, the students at the classroom door all turned to look. Mr. Finch, the homeroom teacher, looked livid. “You lot again!” Mr. Finch’s gaze, sharp as a knife, sliced across each student, but deliberately skipped over the girl in the short skirt. The boys grinned sheepishly: “Honestly, Mr. Finch, we tried our best today, we were only one minute late!” Mr. Finch looked exasperated. “One minute? Your total tardiness for this semester has already exceeded 72 hours!” The boys wheedled and cajoled Mr. Finch, who, losing his temper, waved them into the classroom. Again, he deliberately skipped over the girl in the short skirt. 3 Perhaps because I didn’t need to study hard, Senior year was far more relaxed than I expected. Of course, arriving at school in a wheelchair, accompanied by a nurse and bodyguards, immediately piqued the curiosity of most students. They speculated about my background, gossiped about my health, and most of their words weren’t very pleasant. Once it was clear the bodyguards wouldn’t easily interfere, my classmates joined the gossip brigade. “Coming to school in a wheelchair, probably just a drama queen.” “And the nurse and bodyguards? Too many melodramatic movies, huh?” “She thinks she’s some kind of star.” A few girls huddled together, whispering. Their seats weren’t far from mine, and I could hear every word clearly. Ben intended to intervene, but I had no desire for a confrontation at school, so I held him back. But then, a second later. Bang! “Ahhh!!!” A loud crash, followed by several screams, erupted. I turned my head, startled, to see the girl in the short skirt, Willow, looking impatient. “Are your mouths permanently stuck on repeat? Non-stop chatter this early. If you love talking so much, maybe try stand-up comedy instead of school. You’d probably ace it.” The overturned desk lay on its side, its contents scattered across the floor like confetti. The girls who had been badmouthing me moments ago huddled together, looking utterly shaken. Willow frustratingly ran a hand through her hair, as if muttering to herself. “Haven’t brushed your teeth in years? Your breath stinks so bad, you’d think this classroom was a sewer.” The girls’ faces turned ashen with anger, but none dared to confront her directly. The previously noisy classroom fell silent in an instant. 4 “Pfft.” Inappropriate time, place, and atmosphere. Inappropriate laughter. The girls who had just been quivering like quail before Willow immediately glared at me, subtly but fiercely. I met their gazes unperturbed. Barely old enough to drive, their collective courage was more fragile than a soap bubble. Within seconds, the girls nervously shifted their eyes away under my cool stare. Willow scoffed, hands in her pockets, and walked out of the classroom. The girls reverted to their old habits, starting to chirp about someone again, but this time, their target was Willow. “Hmph. Deadbeat dad, and a mom who ran off with another man. No idea why she acts so high and mighty all the time!” “My mom said her dad sometimes gets drunk and hits her! On the surface, she looks fine, but she’s bruised black and blue underneath, it’s horrible!” “Serves her right! People like her are just a waste of air.” “Hey, I heard she’s also involved with some sketchy crowd outside of school, I wonder…” The girl didn’t finish her sentence. A few of them suddenly let out knowing giggles. She just stuck up for me, so I couldn’t just sit by, could I? Amidst the girls’ meaningful laughter, I raised my hand and tapped the desk in front of me, sweeping my gaze coolly across them. “Can’t you go a minute without badmouthing someone? ‘Gossip queens’ definitely suits you three.” “You!” One of them, Ruby, with straight-cut bangs, indignantly stood up, as if coming to confront me. I smirked, casually retorting. “Heard who? Your shady friends? If you were so brave, why didn’t you dare say a word earlier?” Ruby sputtered in anger: “Are you effing crazy?! We weren’t talking about you! Stop looking for trouble!” I smiled faintly. “Can’t help it. Guess I’m just a drama queen.” 5 As expected, The girls ran to Mr. Finch to complain, playing the victims. When I was called to his office, The moment I stepped inside, I saw their triumphant expressions, clearly expecting a show. I shook my head inwardly. It was time to give them a little shock. Seeing me enter, Mr. Finch immediately stood up and rushed forward, even taking over from Ben, personally pushing my wheelchair to his desk. He said nothing about the complaint, only fussing over my well-being with eager concern. The previously smug girls looked dumbfounded, standing awkwardly, unsure whether to stay or leave. I glanced at them. Mr. Finch didn’t speak, and neither did I, just leaving them hanging. After a few minutes of polite small talk, someone finally couldn’t take it anymore. “Mr. Finch, Skylar cursed at us for no reason in class! The whole class can vouch for it!” Mr. Finch’s smile instantly froze. He glared at the girl, then turned to me, gently seeking confirmation. “Skylar, is what they’re saying true?” I gave an affirmative answer. “Yes, cursing was indeed a fact.” Mr. Finch, who was clearly ready to defend me, stared blankly, his mouth half-open. The girls immediately became smug again. I chuckled inwardly, then continued: “But I didn’t curse without reason.” “How not?!” Ruby, the one with bangs, blurted out anxiously. I gave her a poker-faced glance, then, mimicking their previous tone precisely, recounted every single one of their nasty comments to Mr. Finch. “Publicly cursing is certainly wrong, but my actions can at most be considered self-defense.” 6 After hearing my recitation, Mr. Finch’s face turned green. The girls immediately started yelling. “You’re lying!” “Stop slandering us! We never talk behind our classmates’ backs!” “You’re just making things up!” It was as if their mouths could hold up the sky. Too lazy to bother with them, I addressed Mr. Finch directly: “Of course, if you don’t believe me, you can do as they say and call the other classmates to confront us face-to-face.” “No need for a confrontation!” Mr. Finch said bluntly: “Skylar, I know you wouldn’t lie about something like this.” Then, he turned to the girls: “Maliciously speculating about others, spreading harmful rumors, and then playing the victim by complaining first! Is this what you’re learning at school?!” The girls were completely dumbfounded. They had probably grown accustomed to using the same tactics against others. Now, faced with Mr. Finch’s sudden reversal, they instantly broke down. “Mr. Finch, you know us! We’ve never wronged or slandered any classmate! It’s her, she’s the one who–” “Alright, alright!” Mr. Finch waved his hand, cutting off their excuses impatiently. “In the past, I turned a blind eye a few times, considering your good grades. But now, Skylar has just transferred to our school, and she’s not well. Instead of helping and looking after a new classmate, you’re brazenly slandering her! It’s completely unacceptable!” Mr. Finch looked utterly righteous. “You three, apologize to Skylar immediately, or I’ll have to call your parents to school for a serious discussion!” “No, Mr. Finch, please don’t call our parents!” The girls cried out in panicked helplessness. The three of them glared at me resentfully. Judging by their furious expressions, they were probably wondering what magic potion I’d given Mr. Finch. Girls who were used to ruling the roost in the ivory tower of high school. This was probably their first encounter with a “pay-to-win player” like me. 7 Ultimately, the girls, unwillingly and grudgingly, were forced by Mr. Finch to apologize to me. Mr. Finch would, of course, side with me. After all, to ensure my comfortable schooling, my parents had, without a second thought, agreed to renovate the school’s athletic fields, donated two academic buildings and a science lab, and, fearing I might not eat well, even arranged for a dozen star chefs for the school cafeteria. Even the ingredient procurement had a dedicated team. Oh, and this morning before heading to school, I heard my parents discussing plans to replace all the school’s desks and chairs with more ergonomic ones. Was I a normal student? Clearly, I was the school’s cherished benefactor. Let alone the homeroom teacher, even if they complained to the grade head, the principal, or even the superintendent. Who among them would dare to say a single bad word about me? On the way back to the classroom from the office, the few girls walked distinctly on the other side. Nearing the door, Ruby suddenly stopped, her eyes fixed on me with resentment. “She must have used some underhanded trick to get Mr. Finch on her side! Just you wait, we’re not letting this go!” I shrugged, making no comment on her words. Even if she didn’t let it go, what could she do? Nothing but the usual isolation tactics. As for more severe physical bullying. I wasn’t being presumptuous, but just seeing how two sentences from Willow had silenced them, and how they only dared to complain about me, I knew that even without a nurse and bodyguards, they lacked the guts. The moment I entered the classroom, my gaze happened to meet Willow’s. She scoffed, rolled her eyes, and slumped onto her desk, clearly intending to take a nap. I gestured for Ben to push me over. Ben, though confused, strictly followed my parents’ instructions, always prioritizing me. As I reached Willow’s desk, I boldly tapped on the surface. Willow looked up, her eyes incredibly impatient, but when she saw who it was, surprise flickered across her face. But Willow, determined to maintain her rebel persona, still spoke harshly. “Got a problem?” 8 Facing Willow’s rude remark, I calmly nodded. “Yeah, why else would I be in a wheelchair?” Willow froze, completely dumbfounded. I smiled and leaned in closer: “Hey, thanks for sticking up for me earlier.” The girl, snapping out of her daze, rolled her eyes to cover her embarrassment. “What’s it got to do with you? I cursed them out purely because they were bothering my nap.” I ignored her bad temper, glancing at the English textbook on her desk. “Hey, next period is Mr. Finch’s math class. Even if you want to sleep, you should at least put out your math book, or he’ll find a reason to pick on you.” Willow’s expression grew even more impatient. She raised an eyebrow, sizing me up repeatedly. The class bell suddenly rang. Willow didn’t hesitate to dismiss me: “I’ll put out whatever book I please. No need for you to be nosy. Get lost!” Seeing the uncontrollable annoyance and embarrassment on her young, pretty face, I couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh. Just before Willow could lash out in fury, I gestured for Ben to push me back to my seat. On the way, passing Ruby’s desk, I overheard her nasty comment to her deskmate. “Birds of a feather, I guess. Trash belongs with trash. They’re a match made in hell!” I signaled Ben to stop, then turned to face Ruby with a blank expression. Ruby looked at me warily, warning: “What! I wasn’t talking about you! Don’t jump to conclusions!” I smiled faintly. Then, a second before Mr. Finch walked into the classroom, I quickly grabbed Ruby’s hand, twisted my body, and slammed myself onto the floor. Amidst the rising screams and gasps, I hit the ground hard. 9 For publicly assaulting a sick classmate, Ruby’s parents were called to school by Mr. Finch. Hearing I’d been bullied, Eleanor rushed to the school immediately. Upon seeing me in the infirmary, my arms and legs covered in fresh bruises, Eleanor’s eyes immediately welled up with tears. “Mrs. Albright…” Bypassing the Vice Principal who was trying to schmooze her, Eleanor rushed to my side. “Skylar, Skylar, are you okay? How did you get such serious injuries? It must hurt so much, doesn’t it? Tell me, who bullied you? Mommy won’t let them off easy!” Although I had used a self-inflicted injury to get Ruby a disciplinary record and sent home to reflect, The moment I saw Eleanor’s tears, I couldn’t help but feel guilty. I’m sorry, for hurting your daughter’s body. “Mom,” I gently called her, “I’m fine, please don’t be sad…” With outsiders present, Eleanor quickly composed herself. She gently patted my shoulder twice, then stood up and turned to the flustered Vice Principal, her tone sharp and serious. “Vice Principal Miller, the school personally promised me they would create a 100% safe learning environment for Skylar. And since Skylar also expressed interest in attending here, Richard and I ultimately chose to enroll her. But now, less than a week after Skylar’s enrollment, something like this has happened, making me question whether your school can truly deliver on its promises. If not, we will transfer Skylar as soon as possible!” “We can!” The Vice Principal, sweating profusely, terrified of losing the financial backing, stated unequivocally. “Mrs. Albright, I guarantee you, absolutely nothing like this will happen again from now on!” Eleanor said nothing, only giving the man before her a cold, scrutinizing look. The atmosphere in the infirmary suddenly became suffocating. The Vice Principal’s sweat flowed even faster. He frantically wiped his brow while apologizing to Eleanor, swearing repeatedly. Finally, Eleanor glanced around the infirmary and asked, “Where is the student who pushed my daughter?” The Vice Principal quickly replied. “The school has already disciplined that student! Her parents have taken her home to reflect.” Seeing Eleanor frown, he added: “Of course, if you’d like to personally meet that student, we’ll contact her parents immediately and bring her to school!” After a moment of thought, Eleanor waved her hand. “Let’s leave it at this for now. If it happens again…” “No, no, don’t worry! Absolutely it won’t happen again!” 10 After dismissing the Vice Principal, Eleanor returned to the bedside, shedding the assertive demeanor she’d maintained for outsiders. “Skylar.” She gently stroked my hair, her voice trembling with lingering fear: “Do you really have to attend school? Your father and I are so worried your body won’t be able to handle it. Your last check-up report… ” Eleanor couldn’t continue, her eyes suddenly filled with a painful redness, and her hand, as it dropped, trembled uncontrollably. Everyone knew the truth. No matter how much money the Albright family could pour in, Skylar’s body was already at its limit, like a lamp running out of oil. When I first arrived, I saw from Skylar’s memories that, because her illness was congenital, her parents had taken her to countless hospitals since childhood. Domestic and international, they traveled to so many places. But all doctors gave the same exact answer. “Given current medical technology, all we can do is extend her life by a few years.” But no matter how much they extended it, Skylar had no chance of living past 20. “Mom,” I held Eleanor’s hand, trying to speak in a tone as normal as possible: “I know my body better than anyone. Please, just consider this my lifelong wish. I truly don’t want to be confined to a small hospital room until the very end.” Although, given the Albright family’s wealth, the hospital rooms Skylar had stayed in since childhood were more spacious and comfortable than most ordinary people’s homes. But no matter how spacious or luxurious, a hospital room was still just a hospital room. Skylar had suffered from being cooped up for too long; she dreamed of stepping out and seeing the world. She was just too thoughtful, not wanting her parents to worry, so she had always endured and restrained herself, never even taking a single step outside until she finally left this world. I admit that my insistence on attending Northwood High this time was because I had something I absolutely had to accomplish. But wasn’t this also Skylar’s wish? “Mom.” Seeing Eleanor didn’t want to talk about it, I smoothly changed the subject. “I found a really interesting girl at school. I really want to be friends with her, but she doesn’t seem to like me very much.” Sure enough, Eleanor’s attention was quickly diverted, and she listened as I recounted Willow’s story. 11 Clearly, my first interaction with Willow hadn’t fully captured her attention. But I wouldn’t be deterred by that. Even after returning home to recuperate for a few days and then going back to school, I continued my persistent efforts to approach her. “What now?” Under my relentless “harassment,” Willow had finally managed to patiently exchange a few words with me. I rested my crossed arms on her desk, my chin propped up. “Willow, this Saturday is my birthday. Do you want to come to my house to celebrate?” Willow’s tightly furrowed brow looked like it could crush walnuts. She pursed her lips, exasperated. “No, seriously, I don’t think we’re that close, are we? And who gave you permission to call me that?!” To me, her behavior was no different from a kitten throwing a tantrum. So I continued boldly. “But from the time you spoke up for me, I’ve considered you my friend!” I looked at her with eyes crinkled in a smile: “If I could have a friend as smart, pretty, and cute as you, I’d be the happiest girl in the world!” Willow’s eyes widened as if she’d seen a ghost. I pretended not to notice, carefully tugging at her oversized school uniform sleeve, begging humbly. “Please, please, come celebrate my birthday!” Willow impatiently ran a hand through her messy dark hair: “Fine, fine, fine! Just stop being crazy, and I’ll do whatever you want!” She’d already said it, how could I not press my advantage? “Okay, then let’s walk home together after school tonight!” Willow: “…” Though she didn’t say anything, just by looking at her expression, I knew she was cursing up a storm. To show my sincerity, I immediately placed several types of pastries, which I’d specifically asked the household cook to make yesterday, on her desk. “Willow, try these! They’re all your favorite flavors!” Willow looked at me suspiciously: “How do you know what flavors I like?” I chuckled mischievously. “Guess! I’ll tell you a secret: I know you better than you think.” Then Willow’s gaze at me turned into: “Are you, like, a total creep?”

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I’d been married to Jared Blackwood for three years, and the whispers in our quiet suburb painted me as a manipulative cling-on, someone who’d even threatened to take my own life to force him into marriage. Furious, I dragged Jared over, demanding he set the record straight. In front of everyone, he simply handed me divorce papers and a blank check. “Rory, don’t make a scene,” he’d said. I’d thought we were high school sweethearts destined for forever, a love story from the classrooms to the altar. But to him, it was just a transaction, a convenient entry ticket to my sister’s inner circle, a pass to fall under her spell. They’d moved like a pair, two halves of a whole, their lips intertwined under the silent, judging moonlight. Then came the anonymous tip, costing me my teaching job because of my past struggle with depression. Catching my husband red-handed had sent Mom into a spiral, leaving me with nothing but shattered pieces. Heartbroken, I stumbled out the door. The roar of a semi-truck filled my ears just before it slammed into me. When I opened my eyes again, I was eighteen-year-old Jared Blackwood. This time, I’d watch that backstabbing jerk lose everything. 1 “Mom, maybe we should just go home.” I stood by the hotel room door, trying to reason with Brenda Miller, but her temper was already blazing. She roughly shrugged off my hand, muttering curses about my lack of backbone. Brenda stood with her hands on her hips, shouting, “Barely a day after the divorce, and he’s already shacked up with someone! I want to see which home-wrecker ruined my daughter’s life!” The words hadn’t even fully left her lips before Brenda kicked open the slightly ajar door. Soft moans and heavy breathing filled the air, two figures tangled beneath a thin sheet. I couldn’t stop her. Brenda whipped off her shoe, aiming it squarely at the heads on the bed. But then a woman’s voice cut through the air, freezing our entire family in place. “Easy there, brother-in-law.” That breathy, coy voice. I’d know it anywhere, even in a different life. It was Skye, my little sister, the girl I’d adored since she was a baby, the princess of the Miller family. Brenda gasped, a disbelieving “Skye Miller?” escaping her lips. Only then did the figures on the bed react. Jared quickly pulled the sheet over the woman, exposing his own bare torso. His brows were furrowed, and his eyes met mine. My body swayed, feeling like it might give out, but Jared didn’t seem to care. “What, did I not pay enough? Aurora, I used to think you were so sensible.” The blatant impatience in his voice struck me like a block of ice. Just three days ago, we’d celebrated our third wedding anniversary. How could everything have fallen apart so completely in so short a time? Brenda wouldn’t stand for it. She lunged, nails extended, aiming for Jared’s face, desperate to rip the sheet off the bed and expose the truth. “Enough!” Jared shoved Brenda to the floor and reached for the hotel phone to call security. I rushed to help Brenda up. Our eyes met, both brimming with unshed tears. There was no doubt about it. It was Skye. But… why? “Skye, was I ever anything but good to you?” The woman under the sheet, now wearing a T-shirt, casually snuggled into Jared’s embrace. “Oh, you were wonderful, sis. The best sister in the world,” Skye scoffed, a cold sneer twisting her lips. “But who needed your ‘goodness’ if it was just to show everyone how compliant and sensible you were? You always got the attention, Mom and Dad, Grandma, Aunt Carol, everyone always sang your praises. You hogged all the favoritism, so what if I took one thing from you?” Before she could finish, Brenda darted forward, her arm swinging, slapping Skye hard across the face. “You disgraceful creature!” Blood welled at the corner of Skye’s mouth, half her face swelling, yet she laughed, a wild, unhinged sound. “You’re so desperate to save face, but look where it got you – nobody wants you!” Brenda’s face went ashen. Without another word, she collapsed to the floor. An ambulance, call an ambulance! My hands trembled as I fumbled for my phone. “Mom!” Skye and I both knelt beside her. Time stretched, each second dragging, as Brenda’s body grew cold beneath our hands. Brenda wasn’t breathing. 2 “How could this happen?” Skye grabbed my throat, her grip tight. “I just wanted to make her mad, wanted her to notice me, why? Why did this happen?” I ripped her hands away, my eyes blazing, delivering her death sentence. “Mom was diagnosed with a serious heart condition last month. She didn’t want to distract you from your big promotion, so she made me keep it quiet…” Skye buried her face in her hands, sobbing, kneeling before Brenda’s lifeless body. Jared stood beside her, his gaze filled with concern and tenderness. So, ten years of silent adoration, from high school crush to husband – it was all a lie. All my own pathetic delusion. What I thought was a love story, a journey from childhood sweethearts to husband and wife, was just a tool for Skye to exact her twisted revenge. My mind cleared. I grabbed the vase from the nearby table, intending to smash it over Skye’s head. You pathetic bitch. Go apologize to Mom, six feet under. But Jared sensed my intent. He kicked me hard in the stomach. I collapsed to the floor, a warm wetness spreading beneath me. Then, a sudden, chilling memory. I’d come here today to tell him something else. I was pregnant. Two months along. But now, it didn’t matter. Jared’s pupils contracted. He instinctively took a step back. A strange, savage sense of satisfaction surged through me. “Your baby. No, wait. It’s just a pool of blood now.” Then, an immense emptiness and regret washed over me. I had brought a wolf into my home. I had ruined myself and killed Brenda. As the hotel security guards dragged me out, Jared remained frozen, stunned. He did, uncharacteristically, mouth a silent instruction to the guards: Be gentle with her. I was cast out of the hotel, the dizzying effects of blood loss making my body sway. Suddenly, a semi-truck barreled around the corner, heading straight for me. In a haze, I heard a familiar shout of “No!” “Aurora!” As my eyes met Jared’s, my consciousness dissolved into a blinding white light. When I opened my eyes again, I saw seventeen-year-old Skye Miller. 3 She clung to my arm, whining, “Please, baby, I hate Aurora. Help me get back at her.” Her entitled demeanor made my body tremble. My cold stare, however, made her uneasy. She tentatively called out, “Jared?” I couldn’t help it. My hand shot out, slapping her across the face and sending her sprawling. Only then did I register the name. Jared? I pulled my phone from my pocket. Glancing at the screen, I froze. I was eighteen-year-old Jared Blackwood. Eighteen. What a perfect age. Nothing had started yet. Everything could still be changed. “Okay.” My smile widened. I blamed my earlier action on an accident. “Skye, you’re not mad at me, are you?” I blinked my clear, innocent eyes, my face full of feigned apology. When she needed something, Skye had always been able to swallow her pride. It was laughable, though. I’d always believed they barely knew each other, just classmates. Before our engagement, Jared had visited my parents. Skye, in a fit of pique with Brenda, had broken things, threatening to run away. Skye had looked Jared up and down, a smile blossoming on her face. “Brother-in-law—” The drawn-out suffix sounded less like a greeting and more like a flirtation. She’d extended her hand. Jared politely shook it. The memory had faded over time, but now it sharpened in my mind. Jared had frozen in that moment. As Skye withdrew her hand, I’d seen a flicker of regret, a reluctance in his eyes. When I snapped back to reality, Skye was already covering her face, turning to leave. As I turned my head, my gaze locked with eighteen-year-old Aurora Miller. “Aurora?” Her tentative question made me realize I wasn’t the only one who had traveled back to eighteen. Jared Blackwood had become eighteen-year-old Aurora Miller. He seemed genuinely worried about me, scanning me for any injuries from being hit by the truck. A visible sigh of relief escaped him when he found none. I couldn’t help but sneer. Now he plays the concerned act. I walked slowly towards Jared, gripped his wrist, and pulled back his long sleeve. “Jared Blackwood, enjoy the world of eighteen-year-old Aurora Miller.” Across his pale arm, four or five fresh cuts crisscrossed over older, unhealed scars. Made with a compass. The more my body hurt, the calmer my anxiety became. 4 Jared didn’t seem to mind that I had occupied his body, yet he wouldn’t stop hounding me, begging me to go easy on Skye. “She’s just a kid, and doesn’t mean any harm. As her older sister, don’t you have a responsibility?” The words hit me with a chilling familiarity, pulling me back to the time we got married. Skye had run away from home then, only to return cradled in Jared’s arms. Rumor had it Jared had spent sleepless nights searching the entire city for her. I’d thought he was simply fulfilling his duty as a brother-in-law, even foolishly telling him to be patient with Skye, that she was just spoiled. Jared had uncharacteristically frowned then. “If a child is raised properly, how could they turn out like this?” His tone had been one of blame, of dissatisfaction. He was defending Skye, wasn’t he? I leaned in, whispering into Jared’s ear, “Now you’re the older sister. You better take responsibility.” “I will, of course.” Jared didn’t try to deny his true identity. He truly began to act like Skye’s doting older sister. He wanted Skye to get everything she desired. I merely shrugged, unconcerned. My only goal was to reclaim everything I’d lost. Skye’s earlier words echoed in my mind. She’d sabotaged the hurdles at the school sports carnival, planning for Aurora to fall flat on her face in front of the entire school. And Jared was supposed to descend like a prince, turning the existing crush into a deep-seated obsession. Turning eighteen-year-old Aurora into Jared’s devoted puppy. If Skye hadn’t brought it up, I would have forgotten that darkest moment. My body screamed in pain, bleeding, utterly exposed on the track. Classmates gawked, but no one dared to help. It was Jared who picked me up and took me to the hospital. “Don’t be scared, Aurora.” “Don’t cry, it won’t hurt for long.” I’d desperately clung to that glimmer of kindness and light, only to discover it was all a deception. In the days that followed, I kept seeing Jared trailing behind Skye. Reminding her to eat breakfast, urging her to study, foolishly trying to reform a black-hearted, ungrateful snake. Compared to what I had done for her before, these efforts were nothing. Skye was a year younger than me. When she was born, Mom and Dad were busy with their business and left her with our grandparents in the countryside. By the time they brought Skye back, she had become lawless, selfish, and willful. My parents felt guilty, so they pampered her endlessly. I, too, poured all my energy into making up for the missing family bond. Anything she wanted, I gave her. I believed we were a loving, harmonious family. 5 “Jared, are you daydreaming?” Skye’s voice cut through my thoughts. She leaned against the railing next to me, her head tilted, a breakfast bag dangling in her hand. She tossed the bag in a perfect arc into a nearby trash can. “Who needs her fake kindness?” She was trying to butter me up, wanting me to stick to her plan. To string Aurora along, then drop her hard. My gaze darkened as I stared at the triumphant Skye. “What if she doesn’t like me?” “Impossible.” Skye was absolutely certain. She’d secretly read Aurora’s diary, the one filled with teenage crushes. “So, you chose me just to get back at her?” The sudden question caught Skye off guard. Her eyes flashed with undeniable panic, and she quickly denied it. The answer was clear as day. My eyes met Jared’s, who was lurking near the wall. He clenched his fists and disappeared. The next day after school, I finally encountered Jared. “You bitch! Always trying to seduce men!” “I’ve had enough of you for a long time!” Jared was cornered, hands shoving him, a fresh bruise blooming around one eye. No, it was Aurora’s body they were hitting. I seemed to see eighteen-year-old Aurora, huddled in the corner like a scared little mouse. No one offered a hand, no one stepped in to help her. She was swallowed by the darkness. And now I had the chance. I could save that innocent girl who was being inexplicably hurt. But I didn’t. Under Jared’s mortified gaze, I coldly walked past the crowd. 6 I didn’t leave. I just watched from the corner. The filthy curses, the cold misunderstandings, the inexplicable hatred – none of it could hurt me. The crowd dispersed. Jared collapsed against the wall. This body’s lack of strength left him defenseless, only inviting harsher retaliation with every attempt to fight back. Jared gasped for breath. Suddenly, the light was blocked. He looked up, his gaze locking with mine. Jared instinctively called out, “Rory.” He used the wall to prop himself up. “I… I didn’t know. I didn’t know what you went through…” Anything he said would have sounded hollow and weak. I simply frowned, making no move. The sympathy in Jared’s voice sickened me. I motioned for Jared to follow me, to witness a good show. We stood on the stairwell. The conversation from the first floor drifted up clearly. Skye was joking around with a group of people, making inane small talk. “Skye, if she ever messes with you again, you have to tell us. We’ll teach her a lesson.” Then came Skye’s soft sniffles, as if she were utterly heartbroken. Jared gripped the railing, his face beet red, about to storm out and confront Skye. After all, it was Aurora who was being bullied. I stood a few steps above Jared. “Feeling sorry for yourself?” Jared’s eyes were red-rimmed. “She shouldn’t be like this.” His rare defense of me made me laugh without reason. I leaned into Jared’s ear. “Honey, have you forgotten? The pain you inflicted on me was a hundred times worse than this.” Watching Jared’s tormented expression, I felt a surge of satisfaction. 7 I walked down the stairs, catching up with Skye. She was walking alone, tears still glistening on her cheeks. Just before I could speak, she threw herself into my arms. “Jared, why does everyone like my sister?” Skye held a report card in her hand. The failing grades made her jealousy towards her older sister swell even more. At family dinners, relatives always loved to discuss my and Skye’s grades, comparing us. Then they’d conclude by telling me to remember them when I became successful. I’d offer an awkward smile, while Skye remained silently sullen. Worried she felt bad, I specifically asked our relatives not to compare us or mention grades. I was protecting Skye’s fragile self-esteem. But she clearly didn’t need it. Skye tore up the report card, then kicked the trash can a few times to vent her frustration. “You know she told Aunt Carol not to bring up grades at dinner? Aunt Carol and the others probably think I’m sensitive, that I’m petty, that I’m a loser.” In Skye’s version of events, her sister had clearly become a manipulative snake. I stared at my shoes, muttering to myself, “Yeah, what a bitch she is!” Skye’s grades weren’t good enough to get into a prestigious prep school. But she had thrown tantrums, so Brenda, out of desperation, pulled strings and paid a hefty fee for a spot for her as a guest student. Yet Skye hadn’t changed. She spent her days with the local troublemakers, neglecting her studies, becoming known as a wild child, a delinquent. She got into brawls, dated prematurely, skipped classes. Later, more and more people started disliking me. I thought it was Skye’s fault, and that as her older sister, I had a duty to pay for her mistakes. She made mistakes, and I, her older sister, was willing to atone for them. So I silently endured, never telling anyone about the bullying or isolation, only finding relief in the pain on my arm late at night. But it was all Skye’s doing, orchestrated by her own hands. “If you had the chance, would you want to switch lives with your sister?” My casual question made Skye’s pupils contract. She remained silent for a long time, as if I had just exposed her deepest, most hidden secret. I hid the dark gleam in my eyes. Few knew that Skye and I had already swapped lives for ten years. But not this time, Skye. You won’t get another chance to take my life.

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