Author: Momo Chan

From the first day I was brought home, The girl who’d been living my life wanted me gone, maybe even dead. Even my own mother treated me with a chilling indifference. Then, one day, when my life hung by a thread, that girl’s boyfriend dove in front of me, taking a bullet meant for me. And that was when my mother finally broke down. 1 When my biological parents came to get me, Dad was beaming, but Mom looked miserable, depressed even. The way she looked at me… it felt like disgust. I couldn’t figure it out. Okay, so I wasn’t exactly living some main character fantasy. My grades sucked, I was painfully shy, but I knew I wasn’t hard on the eyes. Especially because— I looked exactly like Mom did when she was young. So why would she hate me? The moment I stepped into the Ashton house, a giant wedding portrait hung in the foyer. It was Mom and Dad, twenty years ago. Faded, sure, but you could still see how bright her eyes were, how dazzling her smile. Beautiful, vibrant. … “Splash—!” The instant I crossed the threshold into my new bedroom. A bucket of rank, stinking water drenched me. Behind the door, a shrill laugh erupted. “Welcome home, Ava! Like your little sister’s housewarming gift?” Brooke stood there, wearing a face mask and holding a big, now empty, bucket, smirking at me. I picked off the slimy bits clinging to me. Looked like old shrimp shells, fish bones… stuff left to rot. You know the saying, garbage in, garbage out. Brooke, yeah, the ‘imposter daughter,’ must have been brewing this welcoming committee stink bomb for days just to make a point. Real classy. Brooke looked nothing like Mom or Dad. She did, however, bear a striking resemblance to the family’s former driver, the one who’d just gotten locked up. Simple reason: she was his daughter. I’d been born two weeks premature, whisked straight into an incubator. The driver’s wife gave birth a few days later. He saw his chance and swapped me with his own baby girl. He wasn’t about to raise me with kindness. When I was just a month old, he dumped me by the side of the road. Lucky for me, a kind old woman, my Gran, who scraped by collecting cans and bottles, found me and took me in. Until… well, until I grew up looking so much like my mother. Someone, I still don’t know who, snapped a picture of me working at the coffee shop and sent it to Dad. Dad looked at me, then looked at Brooke, who looked more and more like the driver every day. Next thing I knew, the driver was in prison, and I was ‘home.’ 2 I stared at Brooke’s smug face, didn’t say a word. Just bent down and silently picked up a couple of chunks of putrid fish that hadn’t fully dissolved into slime yet. Even through her mask, she pinched her nose, looking down at me with utter contempt. “Tsk, figures. Grew up digging through trash, didn’t you? This stuff suits you perfectly, Miss Stinky Fish.” “Yeah, well, I never keep the good stuff all to myself.” With that, I walked towards her, grabbed her chin, and yanked off her mask. Brooke started to say something, her mouth forming a perfect ‘O’. I seized the moment and stuffed the handful of rotten fish from my other hand right into it. Then, like force-feeding a duck, I clamped her jaw shut. Her throat worked, an involuntary swallow. … Brooke froze for a few seconds, then let out a bloodcurdling scream and burst into tears. Forgetting the stinking puddle on the floor, she dropped to her knees, retching violently. Her shrieking was ear-splitting. Seconds later, Mom and Dad rushed in, looking panicked. “What’s going on… What are you two doing?!” Both Mom and Dad instinctively covered their noses. Brooke saw them like they were cavalry charging to her rescue. She howled even louder, practically leaping into Mom’s arms. “She attacked me! She forced my mouth open and made me eat rotten fish! Dad, Mom, do something! Ugh…” I glanced at her. “She was hiding in my room. She dumped this on me the second I walked in.” Dad saw me, soaked and reeking. His face darkened. He turned and snapped at Brooke. “What is the meaning of this? I told you yesterday, don’t bully your sister.” Brooke, pale-faced and looking utterly wronged, sniffled. “Dad… I wasn’t bullying her. My teacher told us… there’s this old custom, when long-lost relatives return, you splash them with dirty water… it represents washing away past misfortunes. I… I just wanted Ava to have a happy future… sob…” “Is that so? Well, thanks ever so much.” I nodded at her, my face blank. 3 Dad’s brow furrowed even deeper, just as I expected. “What kind of nonsense is that? What garbage have you been listening to? You have no manners at all! You get to your—” “Richard.” Dad was mid-sentence when Mom cut him off. Her voice was soft, but held an undeniable edge, a tone that didn’t invite argument. “Brooke’s been very emotional lately, Richard. As her father, you should be more mindful of her feelings. She was just a baby back then, and Miller never acknowledged her all these years. Why take it out on her?” With that, Mom gently pulled Brooke closer, wiping away the vomit residue from the corner of her mouth. Then she looked at me, her eyes still empty of any real warmth. “Go take a shower. I’ll have the housekeeper clean up the room. Your sister meant well, perhaps she just went about it the wrong way. Let’s not dwell on such minor things.” I looked at Mom’s face, so uncannily like my own. I opened my mouth, then closed it, saying nothing. Instead, I turned to look at Dad. Anger still simmered in his eyes, but when he glanced at Mom beside him, his expression softened considerably. He was silent for a moment, then nodded at me, forcing a gentle smile. “You just got home, let’s not fight. Be good, go get cleaned up. Dinner will be ready soon.” I didn’t argue further. I just nodded obediently. “Okay… I understand.” Dad. He was completely wrapped around her finger. I’d noticed it the moment I met them, and now I was certain. No matter how upset he was with Brooke, if Mom stepped in, he’d always play peacemaker. With Mom backing her up, Brooke seemed to instantly forget the humiliation of eating rotten fish. She peeked out from behind Mom, shooting me a look dripping with scorn. “Get. Out. Of. My. House.” I saw her mouth the words silently. I discreetly flipped her the bird and turned towards the bathroom. 4 “Tsk, struck out, didn’t you, princess?” I’d just reached the bathroom door when an unfamiliar voice popped up behind me. I turned around. It was a boy, looked about my age. He was good-looking, dressed well, leaning casually against the wall, watching me. “Who are you?” I looked up at him. The boy walked right up to me, leaning in close. “What, you seriously don’t recognize me?” I shook my head. I honestly couldn’t recall ever seeing him before. He let out a few disdainful snorts, then pinched his nose and backed away a few steps. “I’m Brooke’s boyfriend. You better be nice to me, or your life here won’t be easy.” “Oh…” I nodded. “You stink. Go get cleaned up, now.” The boy seemed seriously annoyed and walked off quickly. This house… there was something really strange, almost suffocating, about it. “Oh— I’m so sorry, Miss Ava! I should have shown you the way. You just got here, you don’t know where anything is yet.” A voice, getting closer, broke my thoughts. A young woman hurried over, clearly one of the household staff. “That guy—” I pointed in the direction the boy had gone. “Oh, oh, you must mean Miss Brooke’s boyfriend? His name is Liam. Mrs. Ashton and Miss Brooke both adore him.” The maid hesitated, then added in a lower voice, “You should probably keep your distance from him. Last time, two girls who tend the garden just chatted with him for a minute, and Miss Brooke threw a fit and had them fired. Besides, his personality is… weird. Kind of unpredictable, moody.” I nodded. “Got it. Thanks for the heads-up.” 5 Dad was often away on business. Mom treated me with cool indifference. And Brooke? Don’t even ask. So, bored out of my mind, I started chatting with the housekeeper and the other staff. After a few months, we actually got pretty friendly. I was holding onto the two dogs, keeping them from bothering the young woman cleaning out their kennel. Her name was Lily. She looked after the family pets – two dogs, three cats. She wiped sweat from her brow, then glanced at me, looking hesitant. My interest piqued, I leaned closer. “What’s up? You can tell me.” Lily wrestled with it for a moment, then finally whispered: “Miss Ava, please don’t tell anyone I told you this… I just thought it was really strange…” “A couple of days ago, Duchess refused to take her bath and ran off into Mrs. Ashton’s bedroom. I was afraid she’d make a mess, so I chased after her.” Right, Duchess was one of the family’s Ragdoll cats. “Turns out, Mrs. Ashton was in there… and I accidentally saw her looking really intently at a photo album. The pictures in it… they were all of Miss Brooke’s boyfriend, Liam.” “What?” My eyes widened involuntarily. “Shh…” Lily looked conflicted, unsure if she should say more, probably already imagining some kind of high-society soap opera drama. “What are you two whispering about over there?” A voice suddenly called out from nearby, making both of us jump. Liam waved dramatically, raising an eyebrow, drawing out his words, like he’d caught us red-handed. I silently clutched the dogs and backed up a step. Liam strolled closer, giving Lily a long, meaningful look. “Jobs aren’t easy to come by these days, you know. If you don’t mind losing yours, feel free to keep gossiping.” Lily flushed bright red, suddenly flustered. “No… I wasn’t! I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have been chatting on the job. Please don’t tell Mrs. Ashton or Miss Brooke.” Liam shot me a sly look. “But you’ve got the new princess here, haven’t you? She’ll protect you. What are you afraid of?” I frowned, but before I could say anything, the dog in my arms suddenly started barking frantically at something in the distance. 6 Both Lily and Liam’s faces changed. We saw Brooke charging towards us, furious. She yanked off one of her high heels as she ran and hurled it straight at my face. I didn’t have time to dodge. The heel hit my forehead with a sickening thud. I stumbled back several steps, clamping a hand to my head. It came away warm and wet. The world started to spin. “Miss Ava!” Lily rushed to help me, but Brooke shoved her hard, sending her staggering. Brooke pointed a finger right at my face, sneering. “Everyone in this house knows Liam is mine! Who gave you permission to talk to him? You trashy little slut, trying to seduce him? If you’re that desperate for a man, just tell me! I can pick up a few bums off the street for you!” Liam’s face turned ugly. He looked like he wanted to say something but stopped himself. I’d pretty much figured out his situation lately. Liam’s family had no money. In fact, they were dirt poor. His parents died when he was in elementary school. He’d scraped together money for college through part-time jobs and financial aid. Getting together with Brooke was clearly his fast track out of poverty. My head was swimming, my forehead throbbing like crazy. I just collapsed onto the grass, weakly reaching out to Lily. “Ah… I’m so dizzy… my head hurts so bad… I think I’m dying…” “Miss Ava, hang on! I’ll call 911 right now!” Lily was terrified, fumbling for her phone with trembling hands, only for Brooke to slap it out of her grasp. Brooke was clearly shaken by the sight of my bloody face too. Her voice trembled as she yelled, “Are you trying to scam me? You think I, Brooke Ashton, scare that easily? Get up! Get off the ground right now!” My hand trembled even more violently. My voice grew weaker. “So dizzy… feel sick…” Liam, probably fearing he’d be accessory to actual bodily harm, turned white as a sheet and finally stepped in, grabbing Brooke’s arm. “That’s enough! Even if you wanted to kill her, there are security cameras all over this backyard. Today’s not the day.” Liam bent down, picked up the phone, brushed off the dirt, and handed it back to Lily. Brooke was still furious, but Liam’s words seemed to douse her impulsive rage. She stomped her foot angrily, hastily put her shoe back on, grabbed Liam’s arm, and they both turned and ran. 7 Dad, terrified by Lily’s description over the phone, immediately had the driver rush me to the hospital. He dropped everything at work and hurried over himself. Okay, maybe I hammed it up a little, but my head genuinely hurt, I was dizzy, and the amount of blood streaming down my face meant I ended up needing a few stitches on my forehead. Thankfully, apart from the cut, there was no serious damage. Dad held my hand, his face etched with relief and fear. “Thank God you’re okay… What if this leaves a scar on your face?” He gritted his teeth, his brow furrowed in anger. “That animal, Brooke… Like father, like daughter, I swear. Cut from the same cloth as Miller. If your mother wasn’t so attached after all these years, I’d have thrown her out long ago.” “Mom…” I whispered the word, my expression darkening slightly. When the driver and the housekeeper had rushed in to carry me out, the commotion had brought Mom out to see what was happening. But she just glanced at me, told the housekeeper to take care of me, and went back into her room. Even the housekeeper and the driver looked stunned. Was this really my mother? Dad looked awkward at the mention of Mom. He patted the back of my hand comfortingly. “Don’t be angry with your mother… You don’t know, Ava. When you were little, after… after everything happened, she got sick. She suffered from severe depression for a long time, even spent quite a while at a private clinic upstate before she recovered.” “The doctors said the illness changed her personality. It’s not that she doesn’t love you. Don’t blame her.” I was surprised. I hadn’t known any of that. Pushing down my questions, I nodded obediently. “Okay, I won’t blame Mom. Dad, you’ve worried enough. You should go back to work.” Dad sighed, gently stroking my hair. “My daughter gets hurt like this, how can I possibly focus on work? You just rest. Don’t worry about me.” I felt a flicker of warmth, a bit touched. I didn’t say more, just nodded and closed my eyes. I knew perfectly well that right now, in this house, Dad was my only real ally, the only one who genuinely cared about me. I had to hold onto that. 8 I was in a private room at the hospital. In the dead of night, aside from the chirping crickets outside, it was almost silent. Suddenly, the door handle turned softly. Footsteps, deliberately slow and quiet, still sounded loud in the stillness. The footsteps stopped beside my bed for a long moment, likely checking if I was asleep. I lay still, eyes closed, hooked up to a breathing mask, not moving a muscle. Suddenly, the person beside the bed acted fast, ripping off my breathing mask. She let out a suppressed giggle, then smothered my face with the blanket. “You idiot… My dad didn’t have the guts to finish you off back then, so let me do it for him! You want to steal my parents, steal my Liam, steal my inheritance? Go to hell!” She leaned close to my ear, her voice dripping with venomous hatred. Her perfume filled my nostrils, and I almost sneezed. Then, I reached up and pulled the blanket off my face. My wide-open eyes stared right into hers. “Ah!” Brooke shrieked in terror. Simultaneously, the room lights flipped on. She froze, completely stunned. “You… you were supposed to be dying! How are you okay?” Behind her, Dad, unable to contain his fury, stormed over and slapped Brooke so hard she crumpled to the floor. “Ava told me! You wouldn’t let Lily call 911, you wanted her dead! I didn’t want to believe it! How could I, Richard Ashton, have raised such a vicious monster! Mrs. Davis, call the police!” Dad was shaking with rage. He waved his hand, signaling the housekeeper, who had been hiding in the adjoining bathroom with him, to call the authorities. I’d only meant to bluff Brooke. I’d asked Dad to tell everyone I was seriously injured, unconscious even. Knowing Brooke’s cruel, impulsive, and impatient nature, I figured she might try to sneak in at night and finish the job, eliminate me for good. Turns out, my gamble paid off.

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The whole family found out about Mom’s online romance, and everyone laughed at her. My cousin Chloe scrolled through Mom’s phone. “Aunt Megan, your boyfriend is even pretending to be a celebrity? His profile is full of pictures of Ethan Cole.” Mom stated firmly, “That’s right. He is the actor Ethan Cole.” That just brought on louder, more explosive laughter. But when Ethan Cole actually showed up at our house for New Year’s Day, they stopped laughing. 1 On New Year’s Eve, the family was gathered around watching TV, but Mom’s phone wouldn’t stop buzzing. My Aunt Carol saw her chance and started poking around. “Megan, why are you glued to your phone giggling like that? Don’t tell me you’re online dating like some teenager?” For some reason, Aunt Carol had been nagging Mom all day about finding someone new. Ever since Mom got divorced, she and I had moved in with Grandma and Grandpa. But Aunt Carol kept saying that being around my dad for so long had rubbed off on us, that we had inherited his ‘scammer genes’ and would try to swindle Grandma and Grandpa out of their house. Funny, when our family was doing well financially, she was the one who visited the most, always managing to walk away with bags full of stuff. Sure enough, as soon as Aunt Carol saw Mom and me at Grandma’s today, her face soured. She slammed the door loud enough to shake the walls. The first thing out of her mouth after sitting down was, “So, Megan, when are you going to find your next meal ticket? You can’t just hang around your parents’ place in your thirties.” And now, here she was, starting up again. Except this time, she was actually right. There was a handsome man in Mom’s phone, and he even sent me snacks and toys sometimes. Mom blushed and quickly put her phone away, saying nothing. But wouldn’t you know it, my younger cousin Kevin snatched Mom’s phone right out of her hands. Mom doesn’t use a passcode, so he opened it easily. The screen was still on her recent chat history. Mom had saved the contact with a heart emoji. Kevin gasped, “Whoa, Aunt Megan really is dating someone online!” Mom scratched her head, nodding shyly. “I was planning to tell you all once things were a bit more stable.” I grabbed the phone back from Kevin, scolding him, “That’s rude!” But just as I got it, a slender hand plucked it away. My older cousin Chloe started scrolling through Mom’s online boyfriend’s social media feed. Suddenly, she burst out laughing, shaking so hard she almost dropped the phone. “Aunt Megan, your boyfriend is pretending to be a celebrity! His whole feed is pictures of Ethan Cole.” Chloe excitedly called over to Aunt Carol, “Mom, come look! It’s all Ethan Cole, the guy from that show you were binge-watching last month.” Uncle Rick and Aunt Carol crowded around, staring at the pictures of the handsome man on the phone. Aunt Carol started lecturing Mom in a patronizing tone, though the corners of her mouth were turned up in amusement. “You’ve definitely run into a scammer. Did the divorce mess with your head? How could you fall for something so obvious?” Mom got annoyed, insisting firmly, “I’m not being scammed. He is Ethan Cole.” That just led to another round of explosive laughter. Uncle Rick clutched his stomach, saying he was laughing so hard it hurt. “Come on, Sis. Think about it. A huge star like him? He’s got fans everywhere. And look at you – divorced, with Jenny to raise. Why would he possibly be interested in you? You’re dreaming.” Chloe took a picture of Ethan’s feed with her own phone and started typing furiously, even sending voice messages. “OMG, girls, you won’t believe this! My aunt is dating Ethan Cole online! LMAO!” After listening to a reply, Chloe chattered back into her phone, “Right? The scammer really knows how to target middle-aged women, though. Ethan Cole is like, the ultimate heartthrob for that generation.” Aunt Carol took Mom’s phone from Chloe and handed it back. “Megan, why don’t you try video calling him? You probably haven’t even done that, right? Bet it’s just some creep pretending on the other end.” 2 Mom quickly refused, “He’s rehearsing for a New Year’s broadcast right now! It’s not convenient for him to video chat!” “Rehearsing for a New Year’s broadcast? Oh my god, Aunt Megan, you’re killing me! Hahaha!” Chloe acted like she’d heard the funniest joke ever, bending over laughing and unable to straighten up. Uncle Rick sighed. “Sis, you can say stuff like this at home, but please don’t go embarrassing yourself outside.” Even Mom, who’s usually mild-tempered, started getting flustered. “I’m telling the truth! Don’t call!” But Aunt Carol had already hit the video call button. Sure enough, it rang for a long time with no answer. Not giving up, Aunt Carol tried again. Same result. Mom shrugged. “See? He’s busy right now.” Aunt Carol chuckled behind her hand, then pulled me aside. “Jenny, honey, talk some sense into your mom. She’s about to give you a scam artist for a stepfather.” Her words made me really uncomfortable. I pulled away and said seriously: “He’s not a scammer! I’ve seen him! He looks exactly like his pictures.” Once, our school had a big clean-up day, and we got out earlier than usual. When I came out of the school gate, I happened to see Mom talking to a man. But when he saw me, the man quickly looked down and walked away. It was only because I asked Mom later if her friend could come to the amusement park with us that he came back. He was tall and handsome, and standing next to Mom, they looked like what my teacher calls a perfect match. He’s definitely not a scammer! Aunt Carol’s face hardened, and she was about to scold me when Ethan Cole’s video call came through. Aunt Carol, quick as lightning, snatched the phone and answered. The lighting on his end was dim. You could vaguely see him looking down, tidying things up. “Hey Megan, what’s up? I was rehearsing and didn’t see my phone.” Uncle Rick, Aunt Carol, and Chloe all huddled closer. They couldn’t see his face clearly, their heads practically glued to the screen. Just then, he finished tidying up, picked up the phone, looked at the screen, and exclaimed, “Whoa! Who are you people?” Aunt Carol grabbed Chloe’s arm, her voice trembling slightly. “Chloe, doesn’t that voice sound exactly like him on TV?” Mom, clearly annoyed, took the phone back from them and exchanged a few brief pleasantries with Ethan Cole. When she turned back, Uncle Rick, Aunt Carol, and Chloe were just staring at each other, wide-eyed. Aunt Carol said, “I swear, that voice, and what I could see of him… it really seemed like Ethan Cole. But… that can’t be right, can it?” Chloe jumped in, her voice shrill. “Mom, you guys are so behind the times! That was probably an AI deepfake video. There are tons of scams like that going around lately.” Chloe then quickly searched for news articles about AI impersonation scams and showed them to Aunt Carol. Aunt Carol’s eyes widened in understanding. “Oh, right, right! That must be it!” 3 Grandma came out of the kitchen carrying a platter of food, calling out cheerfully, “Okay everyone, clear the table, time to eat!” Aunt Carol, Uncle Rick, and Chloe rushed to the dining table. In the end, Mom and I had to help Grandpa, who had just woken up from a nap, to his seat. Even though Grandpa has high cholesterol and sleeps a lot these days, his temper hasn’t softened a bit. At the table, Aunt Carol brought up Mom’s online dating again. Grandpa slammed his hand on the table and yelled, “Nonsense!” “When Jenny’s father got scammed, it was because you weren’t watching him properly! Are you going to get scammed again now?” I didn’t understand why Grandpa blamed Mom for Dad’s debts. Dad was the one who racked up debt and ran off. Mom only found out when the court came to repossess our house. Ever since Mom brought me here to Grandma’s house, Grandpa brings this up and blames Mom whenever he’s unhappy. Mom usually just listened silently, but this time she couldn’t hold back. “Dad, Gary was always like this. I saw the warning signs the first time he messed up. You were the one who insisted I give him another chance.” Grandpa’s face flushed with anger, his mustache bristling. “So your husband wasn’t good enough, and now you’re blaming your old man?” Aunt Carol chimed in to support him. “You know what they say, ‘for better or worse.’ Besides, you chose to marry him, didn’t you? How can you turn around and blame Dad now?” As Aunt Carol said this, I saw Uncle Rick nervously tugging at her sleeve. “That’s not how it happened at all!” Mom’s eyes turned red with hurt. “It was practically an arranged marriage! What choice did I have?” She murmured, “Dad, you ruined my career prospects back then for the sake of my brother. Are you going to control the rest of my life too?” Grandpa’s finger trembled as he pointed at Mom. “What- what are you saying? If I hadn’t brought you back, you’d still be in the city being some kind of… groupie?” I shouted, correcting him, “Not a groupie, Grandpa! An agent! A talent agent!” I had pestered Mom before to tell me stories about when she was young. Back then, Mom listened to Grandpa and went to work in a big city. She made some great friends who saw her potential and recommended her for a job as an agent. Mom said an agent’s job is to find work for the stars they manage, promote them, and help them become famous. Even though the agency was small and the actors Mom managed weren’t well-known, Mom said it was the happiest and freest time of her life. But later, when Grandpa heard about Mom’s job, he called it indecent, accused her of flaunting herself and not behaving properly, and actually went to her company, made a scene, and dragged her back home. As soon as Mom got back, Grandpa immediately arranged a marriage for her, forcing her to marry my dad, giving her absolutely no chance to resist. Mom only found out later that Grandpa was actually desperate for money to help Uncle Rick start a business, and that’s why he used the excuse about her job to bring her home and marry her off quickly. Hearing our conversation, Chloe’s interest was piqued. She put down her phone and stopped texting her friends, asking curiously: “What agent? You don’t mean like… a celebrity agent?” “Alright!” Uncle Rick cleared his throat, telling Chloe to be quiet. Then he said to Grandpa, “Dad, let’s not dredge up ancient history.” Grandma brought Grandpa a fresh pair of chopsticks and stepped in to smooth things over. “Let’s not argue on New Year’s. We still have the New Year’s Eve show to watch together after dinner.” I looked at Mom worriedly. She smiled and patted my hand, then lowered her head and took a bite of food. 4 After dinner, we all sat on the sofa to watch the New Year’s Eve specials on TV. My cousin Kevin complained, “It’s so crowded.” Aunt Carol, cracking sunflower seeds, remarked, “Well, there are two extra people this year, of course it’s crowded. Never heard of a married daughter coming back to her parents’ place for New Year’s Eve anyway.” Hearing Kevin say it was crowded, I started to get up to find him a small stool, but Mom stopped me. She asked Aunt Carol, “What exactly do you mean by that, Carol? I already told you I’ll look for a place of our own after the holidays.” Aunt Carol uncrossed her legs and sat up straight, facing Mom. “Megan, it’s not that I don’t want you here.” “I’m just worried you’ll get too comfortable and start thinking this is your house. What if you end up like your ex-husband and try to mortgage Mom and Dad’s house too?” Mom frowned. “That’s a ridiculous thing to say. I don’t owe anyone money. Why would I mortgage the house?” Chloe interjected with a worried expression, “My friend just sent me a bunch of news stories about people getting tricked by scammers into sending money or making donations online. Aunt Megan, be honest with us, how much has he scammed you out of already?” “He’s not a scammer,” Mom repeated tiredly, having said it several times already today. Just then, Aunt Carol pointed at the TV in shock. “Look! Isn’t that Ethan Cole?” On the screen, Ethan Cole was performing a solo, wearing a festive red suit. He was singing his own hit song, the one he wrote the lyrics for: “Moonlit Serenade.” Aunt Carol muttered to herself, “Why is he wearing the same clothes as in the video call earlier? Can scammers predict the future now?” Chloe patted Aunt Carol’s shoulder, explaining, “His performance outfit must have been leaked online by fans. Seriously, Aunt Megan, the scammer you’ve found is really meticulous.” Hearing this, Aunt Carol became even more convinced Mom was being duped. “Megan, this scammer really seems to have some tricks up his sleeve. Scams are so sophisticated these days, they can even fake what a big star is wearing on the same day! You absolutely cannot send him any more money.” Mom had been watching Ethan Cole’s performance with a soft smile, but Aunt Carol’s words made her expression harden again. After a long silence, Mom said, somewhat exasperated, “He is Ethan Cole! And I haven’t been scammed! If you really don’t believe me, should I ask him to come over for a New Year’s visit tomorrow so you can see for yourself?” Chloe secretly whispered in Aunt Carol’s ear, “Mom, I think she might actually be losing it.” “You said it! Let’s see Ethan Cole come visit our house,” Aunt Carol grinned, barely able to contain her amusement, eager to watch Mom make a fool of herself. But I was thrilled to hear this. I had secretly overheard Ethan telling Mom on the phone that he wanted to come visit for the holiday, but Mom kept saying they should wait. I’d been quite disappointed about that. 5 The next morning, Uncle Rick went out early, leaving Aunt Carol alone on the sofa, cracking sunflower seeds. “So, Megan, when is Ethan Cole arriving? If he doesn’t show up today, maybe you should start looking at apartments? Are you really planning to keep freeloading off Mom and Dad?” “He just finished his New Year’s performance. He’s on his way now.” “Right, right.” Aunt Carol smirked knowingly, spitting sunflower seed shells all over the floor. Grandma was mopping. Mom felt bad for Grandma, took the mop from her, and started cleaning, reminding Aunt Carol: “Don’t spit the shells on the floor. Mom just mopped there.” Aunt Carol scoffed, swinging her legs idly. Kevin was playing with my building blocks. I snatched them back from him. Having nothing to do, he started wandering around bored. Aunt Carol got up and went to the fridge, calling Kevin over. “Come here, sweetie. Mommy will steam some crab for you.” Suddenly, she exclaimed, “Oh dear, I didn’t realize Megan and Jenny would be here too. There are only six crab legs!” Then, with a look of mock apology, she said, “These are Alaskan King Crab legs, you know. Very special. We only splurge like this once a year for the holiday. Megan, surely you wouldn’t expect Mom and Dad to give up their share for you two.” Even I understood her implication – there were none for us. But I remembered there was still a whole box of crab legs in the freezer that Ethan Cole had sent over last time. Plenty to go around. Mom ignored Aunt Carol and put our entire box of crab legs in the steamer pot. It was packed full. When they were cooked, the aroma was incredible. Aunt Carol proudly declared that Alaskan King Crab always smelled that good, but when she went into the kitchen, she realized the delicious smell was coming from our crab legs. She immediately changed her tune, saying ours must have additives, that the smell was just artificial flavoring. At the table, Kevin finished the crab legs Aunt Carol had brought and reached for the ones Mom had steamed. Aunt Carol slapped his hand away with her chopsticks. “Don’t eat that junk. Who knows how long those freezer-burned things have been sitting there.” But Kevin threw a tantrum, whining and insisting he wanted to try one. Our crab legs were huge and looked much better than Aunt Carol’s; no wonder Kevin was tempted. He cracked open a shell and greedily started eating the meat inside. Aunt Carol got flustered and offered her own crab leg to him. “If you’re hungry, eat Mommy’s. Don’t eat that!” But Kevin threw the crab leg Aunt Carol offered onto the floor, shouting, “Aunt Megan’s crab is way better than yours!” Aunt Carol’s face turned ugly. Skeptically, she took one of our crab legs herself. The moment the crab meat hit her tongue, her eyes widened in astonishment. She was completely speechless. She silently finished the crab leg, then stared longingly at the platter, wanting another but too embarrassed to take one. Just then, the doorbell rang. “Is that Ethan?” I gasped, happily jumping down from my chair to answer the door. Aunt Carol muttered behind me, “No way, the scammer actually dared to show up…?” I opened the door, and standing there was a young man with a friendly face. His hands were full of bags, and he was balancing a large gift basket. He smiled when he saw me. “You must be little Jenny.” He had a baby face, but his voice was surprisingly deep, which startled me, making me step back. Aunt Carol peered over my shoulder, and her lips immediately curled into a smirk. “Seriously, Megan? This is your boyfriend? If he didn’t speak, I’d think he was your nephew! Hahaha…” “And you were so insistent it was Ethan Cole coming. You bring this guy instead? Are you trying to make fools out of us?”

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I’m Ethan Vance’s wife. We had a wedding, but we never made it legal, never filed the papers. That marriage license he gave up for his career eventually became the knife twisting in my chest. Later, he knelt in the rain like a madman, begging me to forgive him. But Ethan, dear… without that license, I didn’t even need to tell you I was leaving. 1. When Wendy Bellweather sat down across from me, I recognized her instantly. She was the hottest A-list actress right now, just one step away from winning her Oscar. “Mrs. Vance, fancy meeting you here.” “You’re… simpler than I imagined.” She smiled as she spoke. Movie stars really are on another level, looks-wise. Every little expression was captivating. If I were Ethan, I probably would have indulged a little too. “Ethan talks about you all the time, but he never wanted to bring me to meet you. Said he was embarrassed to show off his plain little wife.” She pouted, her eyes sparkling, but her words cut like a knife. What a perfect little actress, playing the innocent flower! I rarely kept up with entertainment news, but my secret husband was just too famous. Rumors about him were everywhere. After quitting my job, the housekeeper handled everything, so besides coming to this coffee shop, I hardly ever went out. Who knew the rare occasion I did step out, I’d walk into something like this. “It’s my birthday in a couple of days. Ethan said he’s throwing a party for me. Will you come too, Mrs. Vance?” She kept talking, relentless. But as I stayed silent, expressionless, a flicker of impatience and calculation started showing in her clear eyes. Honestly, I was silent because I wasn’t sure how to deal with a mistress who sought me out directly. Ethan had a new rumored girlfriend every year after winning his big award, but it was always just gossip. This one in front of me was the first to actually confront me. I’d lived by the book for thirty years, never imagining I’d end up in such a trashy, humiliating situation because of the man I loved deeply. “Huh, are you mute or something?” She was finally losing her patience, or maybe she just decided I was easy prey. A nasty look crept onto her face. She stood up and poked my forehead hard. “I really don’t know what Ethan sees in you, marrying a country bumpkin like you. Now you’re like gum on his shoe he can’t scrape off.” “Ethan has a scar on his upper thigh, he said you gave it to him when you were kids. Claire, don’t you think you’re just like that scar? The only blemish on his otherwise perfect life?” She even knew about the scar on his thigh. I couldn’t help but sigh softly. The flimsy veil of denial I’d desperately held onto for five years was finally ripped apart. The next second, the coffee in my hand was splashing across her face. 2. Two screams echoed simultaneously. One was Wendy Bellweather’s. The other came from a girl nearby. She must have been a fan of Wendy’s, watching secretly from a distance for who knows how long. “Wendy! Are you okay?” “I’m fine.” Luckily for her, the coffee had cooled down. Wendy quickly wiped the viciousness off her face, reverting to her usual pure and innocent look. A single tear slid perfectly from the corner of her eye right on cue – a truly pitiful sight designed to evoke sympathy. “Why did you throw coffee on our Wendy, you evil woman?” “Yeah, who even are you?” A barrage of insults hit me instantly. The quiet coffee shop turned chaotic. The light drizzle outside had unknowingly turned into a downpour. Wind and rain hammered against the windows, fraying everyone’s nerves. I grabbed my bag, wanting to leave, but someone shoved me back into the chair. A sharp pain shot through my ankle where it hit the seat frame. “Well, isn’t this lively today? How about I treat everyone to a little show?” The coffee shop’s background music stopped abruptly, replaced by a vaguely familiar voice over the speakers. At the same time, a security camera recording appeared on the large screen in the shop. In the footage, Wendy Bellweather was clearly visible, poking my forehead with a malicious expression. “Well, well, isn’t this the future Oscar winner Wendy, always marketed as the pure, angelic goddess? What brings you to my humble coffee shop to bully one of my customers?” The voice from the speakers dripped with sarcasm. The shop instantly fell silent. The atmosphere turned strange. Wendy’s public image was built on never getting angry, always being gentle like an angel. She’d never shown such a nasty expression in public. I shot a grateful look towards the second floor, at the somewhat nonchalant man standing there – Marc Riley, the owner of this trendy coffee shop. He was a former colleague. We weren’t exactly close. Years ago, back in Ridgedale, Marc had been known as one of the city’s top young lawyers. It was a mystery why he suddenly quit at the peak of his career to open a coffee shop here. But he was famous and good-looking, so the place quickly became a hotspot. I’d run into him here by chance. I didn’t know many people in Westbridge, so after a few visits, I became a regular. “I didn’t want to! But she’s a stalker fan! She’s been harassing me constantly, I couldn’t take it anymore! I’m about to have a breakdown! Please, Miss… Claire, just leave me and Ethan alone!” Wendy recovered quickly, expertly painting me as the villain with just a few sentences. “Oh, so she’s a stalker.” “Wendy is too nice! If I were harassed like that, I would have called the cops ages ago! And she’s begging her? Why?!” “Crazy bitch!” … Suddenly, a cup of hot coffee splashed directly onto my face. I stared in disbelief at the person who threw it. 3. As the coffee dripped down my face, I heard gasps and excited murmurs erupt all around. “Omg, omg, is that Ethan Vance?!” “No way, no way, no way! Ethan Vance is here!” The late autumn rain already carried a chill. Ethan was wearing a black trench coat today. I saw the disgust in his eyes directed at me. Before I could even speak… “Ethan, I… I just wanted to—” Wendy stammered, looking flustered, unable to form a complete sentence. But the next second, her expression shifted to shy adoration. Amidst the crowd’s hushed whispers, Ethan took her hand. “More people are showing up. My car’s right outside, let’s go.” “Okay, whatever you say, Ethan.” Wendy nodded, her voice soft enough to melt butter. But before leaving, she subtly tugged on Ethan’s hand, her gaze sweeping intentionally towards me. I was completely frozen, my mind blank. What was happening? My husband just threw hot coffee on me in public and walked away holding another woman’s hand right in front of me? Sticky coffee dripped from my hair onto my eyelashes. Through the blurry haze, I saw Ethan’s cold gaze flick over me. It was so unfamiliar. “Ethan, I—” I stood up numbly, my lips parted, but the word “hurts” never came out. The surrounding fans grabbed me roughly, cursing. “You stalker bitch, you’ve got some nerve! Still trying to bother them?” “She needs a good slap to learn her lesson.” In the jostling crowd, I saw Ethan frown and glance at me one last time. Then, holding Wendy’s hand, he walked out into the rain. Just before getting into the car, Wendy turned back and shot me a triumphant smirk. Tears finally streamed down my face. I gave a self-mocking curve of my lips. This really felt like a scene from a movie. “Smack—!” The next second, a stinging slap landed hard across my face. The fans, still not satisfied, swarmed around me. More blows and insults rained down. I threw my hands up to shield my face, feeling dazed, as if I were back in the orphanage of my childhood. Only this time, my little hero had walked off with another girl. He wouldn’t rush in front of me to protect me anymore. Claire, how did you let your life become such a mess? 4. In the end, it was Marc and his staff who rescued me. “Sorry, I made you close up early.” “Don’t mention it, Claire.” He placed a glass of hot water in front of me, then hesitated before speaking. “Have you seen what’s trending online?” “Trending?” I paused, then shook my head. “I deleted all those apps.” “Well… want to look at mine?” He held out his phone. The top three trending topics were all explosive. Number one: #EthanVanceWendyBellweatherOfficial. Ethan had many rumored girlfriends, but it was always just blurry paparazzi photos, and he never confirmed anything. This public display was indeed the first official confirmation. Number two was: #EthanVanceRumoredGirlfriends. But it was number three— I saw the hashtag #StalkerFan and my hand trembled as I tapped on it. The top post featured my face, with a big red X marked over it. “Don’t read the comments.” Marc quickly covered the screen with his hand, but I’d already glimpsed the vile personal attacks. I don’t know how I got home. By the time I snapped back to reality, it was completely dark. Marc’s words echoed in my head. Asking how I planned to clear my name. Asking what I was going to do. Asking me— I didn’t know. I didn’t know anything. The door opened, and a familiar figure hurried in, bringing the cold air from outside. “Honey.” As usual, Ethan immediately wrapped me in a hug the moment he walked in, nuzzling my neck like a puppy. All the cold indifference from earlier in the day was gone. “Honey, happy seventh anniversary.” He gently kissed my lips, placing a large bouquet of roses and a cake in front of me. His eyes were full of intense, sincere emotion. I stared at him, stunned. After a moment, my numb, stiff lips moved silently. “So you did remember… today is our wedding anniversary.” 5. “How could I forget?” His expression was still flawless, his long, fair fingers stroking my cheek with infinite tenderness. “That was the best day of my life,” he said. I looked at the man I knew so well he felt etched into my bones, but all I could see was Wendy Bellweather’s face from earlier that day. A perfect performance, impeccable acting. Suddenly, I felt like I didn’t recognize the man in front of me. “Before, I just thought you treated me like I was deaf and blind. Turns out, you think I’m an idiot too.” Ethan’s hand paused. His eyes finally showed a hint of panic when they met my tear-filled gaze. “No, Claire, that’s not it. You know it was all for publicity, it was all an act.” “An act? Do you really think I’m that stupid?” I sprang up from the sofa, dodging his touch. “Ethan Vance, you make me sick. Absolutely disgusting. Don’t touch me. You’re filthy.” His face instantly crumpled, filled with hurt and brokenness. The more he acted like this, the more disgusted I felt. “Claire, I thought you’d always understand, just like you always have,” he said. So that’s how he saw all my efforts over the years. Just… understanding. No wonder he never bothered to explain anything for so many years. No wonder he took it for granted that after abandoning me, humiliating me in public, I’d just continue to play dumb and treat him the same way. “Ethan, why?” I finally couldn’t stop myself from asking. “Is it because you don’t love me anymore? Is it desire? We could have gotten divorced, Ethan. Why did you have to humiliate me like this?” “Of course not, Claire!” He shot up, stepping closer urgently. “How could I not love you? I told you, I love you. Till death do us part.” “You know… my dream.” His dream. Always his dream. I slumped back onto the sofa with a bitter smile, feeling like I was stranded in an endless desert, unable to take another step. Because there was no hope in sight. 6. Ethan and I grew up in the same orphanage. We gradually developed feelings for each other in middle school. He confessed to me on high school graduation day, and I shyly nodded yes. I got into a top university, with some financial support from the orphanage. He went straight into acting, starting with bit parts, and would send me money for living expenses whenever he could. Then, two years after I graduated, we got married. Back then, he hadn’t won his major awards yet but was already a massive star, right in the middle of his career ascent. A recent romantic movie had gained him a huge following of female fans who saw him as their ideal boyfriend. For the sake of his career, we didn’t get a marriage license. But he insisted on giving me a wedding. So, in a rented villa outside the city, we invited a few close friends we grew up with from the orphanage and had a simple ceremony. He promised me that once he achieved his dream, he would give me the grandest wedding imaginable. I really used to look forward to that. But as time went on, the importance of the ceremony faded, and the dream wedding became a blur. Lately, all I hoped for was that he wouldn’t change, that his feelings wouldn’t waver. That would be enough. But even that small wish— “Ethan, I get disappointed too. When disappointment piles up, eventually, you give up,” I said calmly. Those words had been stuck in my heart for years, swirling around ever since the rumors started, and kept coming. But saying them out loud now surprised even me. My heart didn’t ache as much as I thought it would. It was like cutting out a piece of rotten flesh that had been festering in my chest for years. When I finally decided to remove it, the pain wasn’t as unbearable as I’d imagined. Ethan’s expression finally showed true panic. He always knew how to read me. “Claire, I messed up. I’ll cut ties with Wendy Bellweather right now. Not just her, I’ll clear up all the rumors with everyone.” “When I’m with them, I pretend I’m acting. Otherwise, I can’t stand it for a second. Claire, trust me, I never crossed the line with any of them.” See? He always knew what bothered me. Tears fell from his beautiful eyes. Ethan knelt pitifully on the floor, hugging my legs like a lost puppy. “Give me one more chance, Claire. Just one last time. I have a feeling this movie I’m negotiating for now… it’s the one I’ve been waiting for.” “After it’s done, we’ll go get the license.” “I’ll tell the whole world that you’re the only love of my life.” In the end, my heart softened. I never expected the consequences of that weakness to come so swiftly. 7. Two days later, same afternoon, same place, Wendy Bellweather sat across from me again. Probably still shaken from the last encounter, Marc proactively offered us a private room. “I’m pregnant. It’s Ethan’s.” She placed a medical report in front of me. A pregnancy test report. I’d seen them countless times on TV, imagined holding one myself countless times. To avoid the complications of having a child without being legally married and the child facing documentation issues, we had always held back from having kids. But no one understood the longing for a happy, complete family more than two people who grew up in an orphanage. “I know you two aren’t legally married. Ethan told me everything. So, as long as you don’t try to guilt-trip him with your past relationship, as long as you just leave cleanly, he can finally have a happy, perfect family.” I let out a cold snort, a sarcastic smile playing on my lips. “My husband gets a new woman every year. If you count, Miss Bellweather, isn’t your year almost up?” “Maybe you should worry about whether you’ll be sticking around first.” * That day was my birthday. It was also the anniversary of the day I was sent to the orphanage. I was already six then, old enough to remember things clearly. My parents, celebrating my birthday, had drunk too much and somehow started arguing. In the chaos, my dad shoved my mom towards a cabinet. A vase on top fell and hit her head. Blood trickled down from the corner of her eye. Mom slowly closed her eyes. Later, Dad frantically dropped me off at the orphanage gate. But as he turned to run away, a car speeding around the corner hit him, sending him flying. I lost both my parents on the same day. * Today, I went home early and cooked a big meal, waiting for Ethan. My childhood trauma made it impossible for me to spend this day alone. Ethan knew that. In the past, no matter how busy he was or how far away, he always came back to be with me. But this time, he broke his promise. Maybe it was some kind of intuition, but that day, I didn’t immediately call him to check if he was okay. Instead, I re-downloaded all the social media apps I had deleted. Trending #1: #EthanVanceProposal.

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In my past life, my sister Sophia was adopted by a wealthy couple, while I was taken in by a scrap metal dealer. Ten years later, she was cast out by her rich family, while my adoptive father and I had built Ashton City’s number one steel company. Reborn into this life, Sophia wanted to walk my path, begging the scrap metal guy to take her instead. But she didn’t know that without me, there would be no Johnson Steel, the company that would become famous throughout Ashton City. 1 I was representing Johnson Steel, one of Ashton City’s top ten businesses, making a donation to the group home where I used to live. As the donor, I was invited to attend the ceremony. At the charity gala that evening, I stepped out of a Maserati, dressed stylishly, drawing everyone’s attention. Old friends from the group home rushed to greet me, and Ms. Evans, the director, stood nearby, praising my success. The stark contrast between me now and my sister Sophia, who was currently working as a cleaner at the home, inevitably led to hushed whispers. “Sophia was so clever back then, getting herself adopted by Mr. Miller and leaving her own sister to go home with some junk dealer. Look at her now.” “Who would’ve thought Mr. Miller’s biological daughter would show up? They don’t want Sophia anymore.” “Chloe really hit the jackpot. The junk dealer’s kid is now the steel heiress. Sophia must be sick with regret.” Eyes darted towards Sophia, who was sweeping the floor nearby. She was looking at me too, her eyes bloodshot, gripping the broom handle so tightly her knuckles were white, the wood creaking. After the gala ended, Sophia found me and asked if I could get her a job at the steel plant. She seemed humbled, her small, thin frame shivering in the wind. My heart softened, and I agreed. But then Sophia grabbed my arm, pulling me towards the staff housing area. “I knew you still cared about me, sis. Come help me pack my stuff. I can’t stand another second in this place.” But once I stepped inside her small room, Sophia’s expression changed. She shoved me hard into the room, locked the door from the inside, and tossed a lit match into a wooden cabinet. Flames spread rapidly. Thick smoke choked me, making it impossible to scream. Sophia frantically pinned down my hand as I tried to open the window. “Chloe Johnson! You became the steel heiress thanks to me, so what gives you the right to pity me now?” “If my life sucks, you don’t get to live either!” “Since you’re my dear sister, let’s just burn to ashes together! Hahahaha…” But she had no idea how many life-and-death situations I had survived to get where I was. Sophia’s figure blurred in the flames. Darkness overwhelmed me, and I collapsed. 2 When I opened my eyes again, I was lying on my cot in the group home, waking from an afternoon nap. Ms. Evans burst into the room, excitement in her voice as she woke us all up. “Quick, tidy yourselves up! Two families are here looking to adopt!” All the kids in the room jumped up, getting dressed neatly, combing hair, washing faces. It was a habit we’d developed over the years; fall behind, and you get left out. An older kid who’d scouted outside came back, buzzing with news. “One family looks really fancy, loaded with money! But they probably won’t want someone my age.” “What about the other one?” “Uh, the other one’s just a guy. Looks kinda like a junk dealer.” These kids had already learned to size people up, kissing up to the rich and looking down on the poor. They started mocking the idea of a scrap metal guy adopting anyone. Sophia scoffed, shaking her head with a look of pity, as if disappointed in their short-sightedness. She came over, took my hand sweetly, “Chloe, let’s go check them out too.” She radiated a calculating maturity far beyond her years. In that moment, I understood. She had been reborn too. If I was right, her target this time was the man the others were sneering at – Carl Johnson, the scrap metal guy standing not far off. Sophia had always been charming, knowing exactly how to win over adults. As soon as Ms. Evans saw Sophia approach, she beamed and introduced her to the wealthy couple, the Millers. “Sophia here is sharp and well-behaved, always so polite. She’s a good kid.” The Millers listened to Ms. Evans, looked at Sophia’s delicate features, and nodded in satisfaction. But the supposedly polite Sophia reacted with horror, yanking her hand away as Mrs. Miller reached out to touch her. “Don’t touch me! I don’t want to go with you!” Sophia ran over to Carl Johnson, the man the other kids scorned, and threw her arms around his legs. She burst into tears, snot mixing with teardrops, acting as if she’d found a long-lost relative. “Mister, I just feel a connection with you! Please, take me with you!” Carl Johnson froze for a second, then his face lit up with joy. It was the first time anyone had ever chosen him so decisively. Mrs. Miller, clearly unprepared for such a scene, stood with her hand awkwardly suspended in mid-air, staring helplessly. Mr. Miller turned angrily to Ms. Evans, demanding an explanation. Ms. Evans grabbed Sophia, who was sobbing dramatically on the floor. “Are you crazy? What are you doing?” Sophia struggled, shouting, “Leave me alone! I want to go with this man!” She pushed Ms. Evans away and clung to Carl Johnson’s leg again, muttering under her breath, “Nobody’s stealing my fortune this time.” Ms. Evans threw up her hands in exasperation, utterly disappointed, and decided to let her be. Having gotten her way, Sophia ran back to the Millers, suddenly reverting to her sweet, well-behaved persona. She pulled me forward, introducing me with a sugary smile, “Mr. and Mrs. Miller, I’m sorry. I just felt a special bond with that gentleman, that’s why I couldn’t go with you.” “This is my sister, Chloe. She’s smart and well-behaved, just like me. Taking her would be just as good.” Sophia wanted me to walk her path from the previous life – enjoy a brief period of wealth and luxury before being thrown out and ridiculed. Ms. Evans noticed me then and chimed in, “Chloe is just a bit quiet, but she’s a very good girl.” After the shock Sophia had just given them, the Millers decided they preferred a quiet, obedient child. And just like that, they took the silent me home with them. 3 That very day, Mrs. Miller took me shopping and bought me lots of new clothes. At the mall, near the dumpsters by the service entrance, I saw Sophia helping Carl Johnson collect trash. Carl pointed towards the stockroom door, instructing her, “When the guy comes out, go ask him nicely if we can have the trash.” “Heh heh, this is all high-grade cardboard. It’ll sell for good money.” Sophia stared intently at the stockroom door, poised for action. Just then, her eyes met mine as I stepped out of a dressing room. Caught looking so grubby, Sophia flushed with embarrassment and charged at me furiously. “Chloe Miller! Are you laughing at me?!” She raised her hand to hit me. A sales clerk quickly stepped in, pushing Sophia aside. “Where did this little beggar come from?” Sophia gritted her teeth, about to lunge again, but Carl Johnson hurried over and pulled her away. He dragged the struggling Sophia with one hand while apologizing profusely to the clerk with the other. Getting banned from the mall would mean losing a significant source of income for him. The next day, Mrs. Miller dressed me up like a little princess and sent me to school. Sophia showed up still wearing the same dirty clothes from yesterday, looking completely disheveled. Several classmates were also from the group home, and they had already spread the story of what happened yesterday. Sophia used to be the teacher’s pet because of her sweet talk, strutting around school like she owned the place. Many kids already disliked her. Megan was the first to strike. Pretending to walk by, she “accidentally” knocked over Sophia’s desk, sending books scattering everywhere. Sophia gasped, pointing at Megan, about to yell, “Are you crazy?!” Megan pinched her nose, looking at the pile of books on the floor. “Why does it smell like garbage?” The whole class erupted in laughter. Instead of getting angry, Sophia called them all idiots. “You don’t know anything! I’m going to be a steel heiress someday! Don’t underestimate me just because I’m down on my luck now! When I make it big, you’ll all be begging me for favors!” The laughter stopped, then burst out even louder. “Has she lost her mind?” “I thought she was crazy yesterday when she ignored the rich couple and begged that scrap guy to adopt her.” “Steel heiress? Yeah, and I’m the Queen of England.” Sophia stood amidst the scattered books, looking down on her laughing classmates with pity in her eyes. She casually ordered me, standing nearby, “Chloe, pick up these books for me.” I didn’t move. Sophia got furious and grabbed my arm. “Have you no conscience? Look at yourself, all dressed up! It’s because I gave you my precious opportunity!” I frowned. “Gave? Or wasn’t satisfied with just stealing? You’re just hoping I’ll repeat your last life, aren’t you?” Sophia froze for a moment, muttering, “You’re reborn too?” “Well, then.” She pulled me close, whispering mockingly in my ear, “They might not know, but you do, don’t you? Chloe Miller, just wait. This time, I’ll be the one grinding you under my heel.” I pulled my arm away, correcting her, “We’ll see about that. And by the way, it’s Chloe Miller now.” From observing them these past couple of days, I realized the Millers were genuinely kind people. Sophia being kicked out of their house in the past life must have had other reasons. She was just too impulsive, always judging things by appearances, never reflecting on her own role in how things turned out. 4 Sophia followed my old path, helping Carl Johnson collect scrap after school every day. Because her dramatic display at the group home had genuinely touched Carl, she had it easier than I did initially. She mostly avoided the dirty, heavy work. Her skin got a bit darker, but she didn’t have the cuts and scratches I accumulated. But Sophia couldn’t even stand this small amount of hardship. She cornered me in the girls’ bathroom, shaking me and screaming hysterically. “When will this miserable life end?! When did you guys start the steel plant? Tell me, damn it!” Her time collecting scrap had clearly made her stronger; her grip on my shoulders actually hurt. Megan came out of a stall, saw what was happening, and quickly kicked Sophia away. “She’s a total psycho.” Sophia really did seem crazy. One moment she was furious, the next she was giggling eerily. “It doesn’t matter if you don’t tell me. The suffering I’m going through now is only temporary.” “But you, Chloe Miller,” she sneered. “Enjoy your fancy life while it lasts. Soon enough, you’ll be homeless again.” Yeah, right. This time, I was definitely going to cherish the opportunity. In my past life, I hadn’t even finished school before Carl forced me to drop out and collect scrap with him full-time. Even later, after we started the company and hired many highly educated professionals, I always regretted my unfinished education. It wasn’t that I was unwilling to tell Sophia when the steel plant started. The truth was, given the current situation, I couldn’t guarantee there would even be a Johnson Steel. Back then, shortly after Carl had forced me to quit school, there was a huge construction project starting on the south side of Ashton City. Carl took me there to collect scrap. I quickly noticed a lot of discarded steel among the debris. I found the foreman and asked him to sell the scrap steel to us cheap. The stuff was useless to them anyway, so the foreman was happy to get paid for it. But Carl thought I was wasting money. I had to use my own pocket money, saved from my time at the group home, to buy a small amount of scrap steel and beg him to haul it home. Later, after spending a lot of time researching, I contacted a steel mill in a nearby city up north and managed to resell the scrap. Even though we didn’t have much that first time, Carl made a significant profit. From then on, he started trusting my judgment. He went back to the foreman and bought a huge load of scrap steel to flip. We used the profits from flipping scrap as our initial capital. We traveled all over, hustling and taking risks, and that’s how Johnson Steel eventually came to be. Carl had no business sense himself. Collecting the steel, buying it, finding warehouses, building the plant, sourcing equipment – I handled everything. We attracted a lot of jealousy and faced retaliation many times. There were near-death experiences. Only someone who lived through it could understand how incredibly difficult that period was. Now, Sophia was just sitting around, waiting for Carl to magically conjure up a steel empire for her. She was basically daydreaming.

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Five years ago, I helped the Shaws get back on their feet. I was the woman working tirelessly behind the scenes for Ethan Shaw. He used to say, “Scarlett, you’re the only one I’ll ever need.” Five years later, he wants to call off our engagement for another woman. I agreed. Then I turned around and started making arrangements for his imminent downfall. 1 Ethan spent five years overseas expanding into the international market. “Mr. Shaw got back yesterday afternoon,” my assistant reported. “He had a girl with him. They went back to the Shaw family home together.” After saying this, my assistant sensed my displeasure and lowered her head, falling silent. I waved a dismissive hand. “Get some gifts together. We’re going over to the Shaws’ tonight,” I said coldly. Five years apart, and it seemed my fiancé had developed some new ideas. When I arrived at the Shaw residence that evening, it was dinner time. A girl sat next to Ethan. When she saw me, she stood up along with him to greet me. My eyes swept over his face. His features were sharper, more defined than when he was younger. Dressed in a black custom suit, he looked tall, imposing, coolly sophisticated. I clicked across the floor in my heels and sat down opposite Ethan. I glanced around at the standing figures, a perfectly innocent smile playing on my lips. I raised an eyebrow at the girl. “Aren’t you going to introduce us?” Ethan frowned slightly, discreetly taking the hand of the girl beside him. “This is Miss Reed. And this is—” Before he could finish, the girl interrupted, eagerly introducing herself with a face full of excitement. “My name is Sophie Bell. I’m Ethan’s girlfriend.” I glanced down at her for a split second, not bothering to respond directly. I turned my head to look at the expressionless Ethan and let out a soft scoff. “Well, isn’t that convenient. You’re his girlfriend, and I’m his fiancée.” Sophie didn’t raise her voice or question me. Instead, she calmly withdrew her hand and smiled. “I know. He told me everything.” I leaned back in my chair, arms crossed, radiating confidence. “So you knew, and you still dare to call yourself his girlfriend.” Sophie linked her arm through Ethan’s, putting on an innocent face. “But Ethan already told you he wanted to break off the engagement, didn’t he?” Ah, right. I did get a text from him yesterday. Something about calling things off. However. “He says break it off, we break it off? That depends on whether I agree.” I shifted my gaze to Ethan’s father, waiting for him to weigh in. Five years ago, when the Shaw family business hit rock bottom, it was my family, the Reeds, who bailed them out. That huge overseas market? Without the Reed family’s backing, Ethan never could have handled it. Seeing the tension, Mr. Shaw quickly tried to smooth things over. “Scarlett, have you eaten? Why don’t you join us?” “Sure,” I replied sweetly. I pushed the plate of shrimp in front of me across the table. “Miss Bell, would you mind peeling these shrimp for me?” Ethan immediately pushed the plate back towards me, his eyes flashing with annoyance. “Sophie isn’t a servant. If you want shrimp, peel them yourself.” I propped my elbows on the table, resting my chin in my hand, a half-smile playing on my lips. “She won’t do it? Then how about you?” Mr. Shaw frantically signaled Ethan with his eyes. Ethan clenched his jaw, then visibly forced himself to relax his fist and began peeling the shrimp with grim determination. Soon, a plate of perfectly peeled shrimp sat before me, arranged neatly in a circle. I picked up the plate and walked over to Ethan’s side. I lifted it high above his head, then tilted my hand. The entire plateful of shrimp slid down over his hair and onto the floor. Sophie shrieked, immediately grabbing napkins to wipe the grease from his face. I leaned down close to his ear and whispered a warning, “I don’t care how big you think you’ve gotten. If you make me unhappy, I can break your wings just like that.” I looked up and met Sophie’s furious glare, her teeth gritted as she stared at me. “Keep looking, and I’ll gouge your eyes out.” I held up two fingers, mimicking the action. Ethan instinctively grabbed my wrist. “Scarlett, don’t go too far,” he growled. I yanked my arm back, freeing myself from his grip. I picked up Ethan’s soup bowl, took a delicate sip, and savored it. “You touched what’s mine. Now you face the consequences.” Standing tall, I gave one last look at each member of the Shaw family, nodded politely in farewell, and left. On the drive back, my assistant gave me a detailed report on Ethan’s overseas business development. I fiddled with my watch, gazing out at the passing scenery. “Five years,” I mused aloud, “is long enough to change a person’s heart.” Sophie Bell was a student the Shaws had sponsored. She studied abroad, working part-time to support herself. During his years overseas, Ethan had kept in touch with her. Apparently, he was moved by her “sincerity” and “resilience,” and naturally, they hooked up. A pure, innocent little flower? I tossed the file aside, scoffing at how blind and foolish Ethan was. The attitude of the Shaws tonight was even more chilling. I’d let things slide for too long. It was time for a little reminder. 2 I instructed my assistant to inform the Reed family’s overseas team: Take down the Shaw’s market share, piece by piece, no matter the cost. When it came to financial power, Ethan Shaw was still leagues behind. If I hadn’t had some lingering feelings for him back then, the Shaws would have been begging on street corners long ago. A few days later, I received an invitation to a celebration party hosted by the Shaws. My parents wanted to use the opportunity to defend my honor, but I stopped them. “Not yet,” I said. “Slow burn. I’m going to boil this frog slowly.” Dylan Troy was Ethan’s biggest rival. We’d gotten closer over the past few years. He was always talking about chasing after me, usually while trying to get some business advantage out of me. In a private room at the club, Dylan lounged in a flashy deep purple suit. With his long, elegant fingers, he pushed a limited-edition designer bag across the table towards me. He sighed dramatically. “You know, you promised me the South Hills development project. Now that Ethan’s back, you’re not really going to back out, are you?” I swirled the drink in my glass, truly looking at Dylan for the first time. Unlike Ethan’s ruggedness, Dylan had a certain refined, almost feline grace. When his almond-shaped eyes narrowed slightly, he looked like a cunning fox. Yet, somehow, he seemed to possess a surprisingly genuine core. In all the time he’d spent by my side, he’d never crossed any lines. After all, the infamous Scarlett Reed, known for her arrogance, didn’t have many friends. Dylan was perhaps the only one. Just then, the door pushed open, and a Little Miss Innocent type appeared in the doorway. Dylan’s first reaction was, “Who the hell are you?” The colorful club lights flashed across the girl’s face. Sophie? Recognizing her, I put down my drink and settled into a more comfortable position. “That’s Sophie Bell. Ethan’s little sweetheart.” Hearing this, Dylan immediately wrinkled his nose in disgust. “Ew.” He looked her up and down with those foxy eyes and delivered his verdict: “Doesn’t hold a candle to even one of Scarlett Reed’s fingers. Is Ethan blind or something?” Sophie seemed to summon all her courage before finally lifting her head to meet my gaze, trembling slightly. “Miss Reed, when are you going to break off the engagement with Ethan? He doesn’t love you anymore. Can’t you please just stop clinging to him?” I watched her, amused, tapping my finger idly against my watch face. Dylan saw the gesture and knew my patience was wearing thin. He gestured to the bodyguards standing behind Sophie, signaling them to remove her. The burly guards surrounded Sophie, frightening her so much she dropped to her knees with a thump. She started crying, tears streaming down her face, making it look like we’d actually done something horrible to her. I rose and strolled over to her. Bending down, I tilted her chin up with my finger, my voice lazy and distant. “If you want the engagement called off, you should have Ethan come talk to me. You don’t have the standing to make demands here.” Footsteps hurried closer, and suddenly, Ethan appeared. He must have run, as his hair and shirt were slightly disheveled. He rushed forward, helped Sophie to her feet, his eyes, usually like calm pools, now dangerously cold, his brow furrowed. “Scarlett, do whatever you want to me, but you can’t use your dirty tricks on an innocent person.” Ha! That was rich. “Innocent?” I advanced on him, my voice sharp. “She knew you had a fiancée and still hooked up with you. You dare call her innocent?” “What position is she in to come here demanding I break off our engagement? You dare call her innocent?” “We haven’t even officially broken up yet, and she’s already crawling into your bed. You dare call her innocent?” Behind me, Dylan chuckled. “Sounds like a classic snake in the grass to me. Didn’t realize Mr. Shaw had such low standards.” At that, Ethan’s pupils contracted, his annoyance written all over his face. “Dylan, you’re nothing but Scarlett Reed’s lapdog. Who are you to judge anyone?” Did Ethan really just say that? I was stunned.

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I’d been in love with my childhood best friend for twenty years, but he only ever saw me as a little sister. When I finally gave him a love letter, he told me to forget about it immediately. That is, until I held my boyfriend’s hand right in front of him. Ethan’s eyes went red. He pushed my boyfriend aside and bit my lip, possessively. “Maya White, I don’t want to be your brother anymore.” I slapped him hard across the face. “You don’t even deserve to be treated like a dog.” 1 This marked my third failed attempt at skipping class this month. Once again, Ethan Miller grabbed me by the back of my collar and dragged me back. Rubbing the red mark on his wrist where I’d bitten him, he asked, “Maya White, are you trying to start a rebellion?” Knowing I couldn’t win a fight against him, I muttered “Control freak” under my breath as I followed. Ethan heard me. He stopped and turned around. “I’m your older brother. You think I can’t keep you in line?” I swung my backpack onto my shoulders, hopped on my bike, and took off. “We’re not even related! Mind your own business.” This time, Ethan didn’t chase after me. I knew I’d gotten under his skin again. My family and Ethan’s lived in the same apartment building, his family downstairs, mine upstairs. It was strange, really. Ethan’s parents were regular folks, working steady jobs with fixed salaries. But their son was incredibly bright, practically a genius. My parents were both partners at a law firm, courtroom champions. My grandpa was a renowned literature professor, and my grandma was a retired head teacher. Me? I was always at the bottom of the class, couldn’t even win a simple argument. When I was six, my mom and Ethan’s mom, Mrs. Peterson, had a whim. They took Ethan and me to get our IQs tested. The results: Ethan scored 130, a certified genius. I scored 80. The doctor mentioned potential developmental concerns, suggesting I might struggle. Mrs. Peterson looked at me with pity and told Ethan earnestly, “You have to take good care of your poor little sister from now on.” My mom, seeing the neighbor’s brilliant kid, was eager to latch onto him. She basically forced me to accept Ethan as my older brother right then and there. They might not have meant much by it, but Ethan took it seriously. Even at an age where he still occasionally wet the bed, he remembered his “mission”: To take care of me, his “slow” little sister. From that day on, it felt like I had a second dad. If the ages weren’t impossible, I’d almost suspect Ethan was secretly my father. 2 When I started elementary school, my parents’ careers were really taking off, leaving them little time for me. Mrs. Peterson downstairs would often bring me to her place. Back then, I really disliked Ethan. He didn’t talk much and always had a serious expression. He’d get annoyed if I didn’t study, annoyed if I didn’t eat properly. Honestly, I rarely saw him happy. Our neighbor, old Mrs. Gable, shrewdly commented, “He’s so young, but acts more serious than his own parents.” But despite his cold demeanor, his sense of principle was unbelievably strong. If he decided I needed to be asleep by ten, not a second later was allowed. Once, I went playing in the mud with classmates in a partially drained pond. When he found out, he borrowed a fishing net from someone nearby, scooped me up like a fish, and hauled me out. His strength and stern face scared the other kids in the pond into tears. Kids at school teased me, saying my mom had found me a “little husband.” I was so embarrassed and furious. During Ethan’s nap time, I took some watercolors and drew silly mustaches and devil horns on his face. The whole class burst out laughing. He just calmly wiped it off with a tissue. The moment he started wiping, I knew I was done for. After school, I hid like a mouse. I never expected my own parents to betray me. They practically bowed as they invited Ethan in, then dragged me out of the closet. Ethan had brought a box of watercolors and a stack of drawing paper. He sat at the table and watched me draw doodles for what felt like a day and a night. He said calmly, “Maya White, you like drawing so much? Go on, draw until you’ve had enough.” Later, I learned the term “calculating.” Looking back, it fit him perfectly. 3 It wasn’t until around the start of high school that I really began to like Ethan. At fifteen or sixteen, hormones were raging through the school. Crushes and early relationships were normal. As time went on, Ethan really started to stand out. He was remarkably handsome compared to the awkward teenagers around us. Back then, the girls in my class were obsessed with pop stars. Their yearbooks and notebooks were filled with pictures of idols with brightly colored hair. But gradually, they realized something: none of those idols were as good-looking as Ethan. They started acting like characters in teen dramas, giving Ethan love notes and fancy chocolates. Several times, I saw chocolates I wanted sitting on Ethan’s desk. I’d stare at them and ask, “If you’re not going to eat those, can I have them?” He wouldn’t let me. He returned all the letters and gifts to their original senders. On the way home from school, I’d argue with him. Why couldn’t he just take the free stuff? Returning it hurt people’s feelings. Ethan scolded me, “Maya White, you have no self-respect.” Maybe he was afraid I’d tattle to my parents, or start crying uncontrollably like I used to. Ethan walked into the corner store and bought a huge bag of assorted chocolates. He tossed it into my arms like feeding a stray dog. “Here, eat these slowly. Don’t touch chocolates other people give you.” I retorted defiantly, “Aren’t you ‘other people’ too?” He flicked my forehead with his finger. “I’m your brother. Would I ever try to harm you?” Ethan’s logic was seriously twisted. Were those girls who liked him trying to harm him? He was an expert at applying the ‘too much of a good thing’ principle to me. I ate that bag of chocolates over two days and ended up needing an emergency dentist appointment. After that painful lesson, I reluctantly brought the rest to school to share with my friends. Chloe Davis, munching on my chocolate, asked indistinctly, “Maya, do you think Ethan likes you? Why else would he give you so much chocolate?” I thought back over Ethan’s attitude towards me for the past decade or so. I shook my head firmly. “He’s less like a boyfriend and more like my dad.” Chloe clicked her tongue. “Your brain really is slow, isn’t it? Isn’t that exactly what they call a ‘protector’ type – the kind that acts like your dad?” 4 Chloe’s words stuck with me. Even though Ethan was harsh, everything he did was supposedly for my own good. Thinking about it that way, I realized I did depend on him. After all, since I was born, I’d spent more time with him than with my own parents. From the moment I could understand things, it felt like I’d unconsciously accepted it: I was meant to be with Ethan forever. So, even when he was strict with me, I took it gladly. Mimicking the other girls, I wrote Ethan a long love letter and slipped it into his desk. After school, while packing up, Ethan pulled out an envelope. He was about to return it out of habit, but then he saw the name on it. His fingers paused. My heart leaped into my throat. Finally, under my hopeful gaze, he put it in his bag. That evening, he called me up to the rooftop. I thought my romantic dreams were about to come true. Instead, he tore the letter into tiny pieces right in front of me. He said, “Maya White, are your grades perfect now? You have time to copy others writing love letters?” Among the shreds, I spotted the decorative washi tape I’d used to seal it. He hadn’t even opened it. When he returned letters to other girls, he at least managed a polite smile. With me, he was more ruthless than ever. I cry easily. When I’m hurt, the tears just pour out uncontrollably. But Ethan pretended not to see. He said coldly, “Go home and think about what you’ve done.” I knew for sure then: Ethan didn’t like me. I secretly vowed never to speak to Ethan again. Maybe this was the awkwardness of confessing to someone you know too well. The next day, trying to avoid Ethan, I left home half an hour early. Just around the corner, Mrs. Gable asked, “Maya, why aren’t you walking with young Ethan today?” A few steps later, Mr. Henderson, out for his morning walk, asked, “Hey kiddo, haven’t seen the Miller boy this morning?” Mrs. Diaz, coming back from grocery shopping, chimed in, “Maya, why are you out alone today?” I clutched my head and practically ran the rest of the way. What was I supposed to say? That I confessed my love, got rejected, and now we were enemies? But Ethan acted like nothing happened. He arrived at school right on time. Just like always, he brought me a bagel and the mushroom and swiss melt I liked. I glanced at it and threw everything into the trash can. 5 Ethan retrieved the breakfast from the trash and placed it back on my desk. “You can throw a tantrum, but wasting food is not okay.” Meeting his unusually stern gaze, I backed down again. In that moment, I felt a sudden wave of despair. I really didn’t have the luxury of acting like some novel heroine, running off to another country for weeks just to make the brooding CEO miss me. Just like now, no matter how much I sulked, when I went home, I still had to call him ‘Ethan’ or ‘big brother’. Looking back, the most rebellious thing I’d ever done was probably just sulking in secret. Then hiding, making Ethan find me, and then making him guess why I was mad. But he never guessed; he knew my patterns too well. Mad today, easily bribed with some candy tomorrow. I hated myself for being so predictable, but he’d always say it wasn’t my fault, because my IQ was only 80. The storm of the confession blew over quickly. Because we had high school entrance exams coming up, I temporarily shelved our feud for the bigger picture. Luckily, Ethan wasn’t petty. He was still willing to carve out precious time to tutor me. In the end, Ethan and I both barely scraped into the same Magnet High School. He was number one in the honors program; I was dead last in the regular track. When my parents saw my results, they treated Ethan to dinner three times in a row. I was left at home, stomach growling, surviving on ramen noodles. I thought life would just drift along like this. Ethan would continue being my unrelated but ever-present older brother. He didn’t like me, but at least for now, he didn’t seem to like anyone else either. Thinking about that brought me a sliver of comfort. But we were growing up, and things inevitably changed. Junior year, a transfer student arrived in Ethan’s honors class and immediately took the top spot in the grade rankings. As a struggling student myself, I wasn’t interested in their academic battles. I only noticed that Ethan, usually laid-back, suddenly got serious. He stopped walking to and from school with me, always leaving early and coming home late. I wanted to keep him company, but he said it wasn’t necessary, worried I wouldn’t get enough rest. During the mid-winter exams of junior year, Ethan caught up to the transfer student, tying with her for first place. Their homeroom teacher was ecstatic, happily predicting two Ivy League prospects from the class that year. My classroom was on the floor above Ethan’s. Afterwards, I often saw Ethan and the transfer student studying together in the hallway. The girl was elegant and composed. I’d seen her name on the ranking lists: Sophia Bellweather. 6 Chloe said they were dating. I didn’t believe it. Ethan was the least likely person to get into a relationship during high school. But they were always together, seemingly closer each day. Later, I noticed a little Stitch keychain dangling from Ethan’s backpack zipper. It looked familiar because Sophia had a pink Angel one (Stitch’s girlfriend). Ethan usually disliked cute things like that. Last year for his birthday, I gave him a pair of sneakers. As we were leaving the shoe store, someone outside was selling squishy stress toys. One was an ugly-cute, big-eyed monster that squeaked “love you” when squeezed. I bought one and secretly tucked it into the shoebox. I even planned my excuse: if he found it, I’d say it came free with the shoes. But unexpectedly, Ethan opened the gift box right in front of me. He glanced inside, then handed the big-eyed monster back to me. “I don’t need this. You can play with it.” Yeah, he was always mature and serious; he probably thought anything like that was childish. But now, this big-eared Stitch wasn’t childish? Hanging a keychain on his backpack wasn’t childish? Turns out, he just thought I was childish. Fingering the keychain on his bag, I asked Ethan if he and Sophia were together. He ruffled my hair. “You’re just a kid, what do you know?” My heart sank. Ethan was straightforward. Yes meant yes, no meant no. If he didn’t like something, he’d say it directly. Like how he rejected me years ago. But this time, he didn’t deny it. That was basically a confirmation. I hadn’t expected my first real encounter with Sophia to happen so soon.

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My mother-in-law made my life hell during my postpartum recovery. Even when I jumped off the roof, she showed no remorse. Given a second chance at life, I decided I wouldn’t tolerate it anymore. I was determined to teach that mother and son a lesson. 1 “You couldn’t even give me a grandson, so what’s wrong with me finding someone else?” I stood on the rooftop, holding my three-month-old daughter. The wind howled, carrying my mother-in-law’s voice even further. She’d always been materialistic, blatantly favoring boys over girls, incredibly two-faced – saying one thing to your face and another behind your back. Before the wedding, she showered me with sweet talk, making me dizzy with promises, convincing me to ignore my parents’ objections and marry Jake. After the wedding, the mask came off, revealing a monster. My husband, Jake, wasn’t the sharp, capable man he’d pretended to be. Quite the opposite – lazy and a total mama’s boy. After our daughter was born, he barely visited, letting his mother “take care” of me during my recovery. When I finally got out of that postpartum haze and went looking for him, I found out he’d secretly bought a house, and there was a pregnant woman living in it. The postpartum period is rough enough, prone to physical and emotional issues. The constant gloom plunged me into postpartum depression. So, after that series of blows, I ended up on the rooftop. I looked at my daughter in my arms and managed a weak smile. Behind me, my mother-in-law was already starting her usual drama queen routine. Spouting nonsense like, “Our family needs an heir! How dare a woman who can’t even produce a son think about ending her life!” I tuned her out like background noise. Gently, I stroked my daughter’s soft cheek. Sweet baby girl, maybe in the next life, if we’re lucky, you can be Mommy’s daughter again. As I jumped, I turned and saw my parents’ faces. Suddenly, it hit me – I’d lived such a pathetic life, letting everyone down. If there was a next life… If I could just start over… 2 “Honey, I need some cash right now. Mom says Mr. Johnson’s factory is having cash flow problems. If we invest, we can get a stake in the business!” Jake’s excited voice buzzed in my ear. My mother-in-law sat beside him, egging him on. “Ashley, you’re pretty far along now, almost due. Keep enough for the hospital bills, but give the rest to Jake for his business venture!” My head felt foggy as I looked at the familiar scene, instinctively touching my belly. At this point, I was seven months pregnant. Right on schedule for Jake asking for money for his “business.” Just like last time. Last time, seeing Jake so ambitious, I took $25,000 out of the $30,000 my parents gave me as a wedding gift and handed it over, fully supporting his “career.” During that period, my mother-in-law and Jake were sickeningly sweet to me, showering me with attention. It was almost overwhelming. That was the best treatment I got after they found out I was carrying a girl. But did that money really go into a business? Nope. His mother had introduced Jake to another girl. That pair, mother and son, conned $25,000 out of me to make a down payment on a house for her. I let out a cold snort, looking at the fawning duo with a half-smile. “Mom, I can give you the money, but when are Jake and I actually going to get our marriage license?” Her eyes darted around nervously, looking from Jake to me. Jake didn’t dare speak either. I leaned back on the couch, flashing the same sweet smile I used to, and asked again. She slapped her thigh abruptly, annoyance flashing across her face. “Obviously, after you’ve given our family an heir, a son! Then we’ll get the license!” I agreed softly, “Okay, I’ll transfer the money to your account tomorrow.” Hearing this, Jake and his mother couldn’t hide their excitement. Sitting across from them, I smirked inwardly. A marriage license? Jake had already married that other woman. How could he possibly marry me? This time, I’ll make sure this mother and son get exactly what they deserve. 3 The next morning, my mother-in-law knocked on my bedroom door early. Her voice was syrupy sweet, “Ashley, breakfast is ready!” I fumbled for my phone on the big bed. 7 AM. She really couldn’t wait. I mumbled an acknowledgment, slowly put on my robe, and went into the en-suite bathroom to wash up. After dawdling for half an hour, ignoring her constant calls, I finally emerged. The moment I stepped out, the door to the adjacent room opened too. Jake, hair sticking up like a bird’s nest, groggily started venting his morning grumpiness, “Mom, what’s all the racket this early? Can’t a guy get some sleep!” His mother shrieked, “Why were you sleeping in that room? Ashley, how could you let Jake sleep in that dumpy room!” I ignored her and walked straight to the dining table. Gotta hand it to her, she really pulled out all the stops for my money. There must have been eighteen different breakfast dishes. I picked up a fried egg, put it on my plate, and took a careful sip of the slightly too-hot oatmeal. Seeing me ignore her, she grabbed Jake and stood beside me, snatching the bowl out of my hand. “Ashley, I’m talking to you! That little room has nothing in it but a crappy old mattress! How could you make Jake sleep there!” “Jake snores so loudly at night, I can’t sleep. If he doesn’t stay there, should he sleep with you instead?” Just looking at Jake made me sick now; sharing a room was out of the question. Last night, when he tried to get into bed, I kicked him out and sent him to the unfinished guest room. Jake initially refused, but I just stared at him coldly and asked flatly, “Do you still want that twenty-five thousand or not?” His face turned pale, and he obediently grabbed his pillow and shuffled off to the next room. My mother-in-law wouldn’t let it go. “Why are you so delicate? Back in my day, women worked in the fields while pregnant! How can a little snoring bother you?” “Aren’t you afraid your man will run off to another woman’s bed!” I glanced at her, a cryptic smile playing on my lips. Isn’t Jake already in another woman’s bed? But I couldn’t expose them yet. Not the right time. I decided to mimic her shrewish behavior, only worse. With one sweep of my arm, I sent the lavish breakfast crashing to the floor. Porcelain plates and bowls shattered, the clattering sound like music to my ears. My mother-in-law and Jake froze, stunned. Jake reacted first, rolling up his sleeves and storming towards me menacingly. “Ashley, how dare you throw a tantrum at my mom?” I raised an eyebrow, unfazed, and used my trump card again. “What? You gonna hit me? I guess you don’t want that twenty-five thousand after all!” Jake froze mid-stride. His mother forced a strained smile onto her ugly face. I knew it. This pair only bullied me because they thought I was weak. Try to bully me now? Not a chance. 4 The money had to be given, but I wasn’t going to make it easy for them. Yesterday I told them I’d go to the bank today. But after this morning’s scene, did they really expect me to just trot off to the bank? No way. I nonchalantly dropped the line, “I’m not in a good mood. I’m going back to my parents’ place for a bit. We can go to the bank another day.” Without waiting to see their reactions, I steadied myself with my hand on my belly and slowly went back to my room to pack. Behind me, my mother-in-law put on a show of scolding Jake, her voice loud enough for me to hear clearly. “Jake! You ungrateful son! How could you almost raise a hand to Ashley! She’s carrying your child! Are you trying to kill your mother with anger!” Jake mumbled apologies to his mom. Quite the actors, really treating me like an idiot. And Jake – he wanted to hit me, why was he apologizing to his mom? I rolled my eyes behind their backs, muttered “Hypocrites,” and slammed my bedroom door shut with a bang. The voices outside quieted, but I could still faintly hear them. “Son, are you stupid? Wait until we get the money, then you can hit her all you want! If you scare her off now and she doesn’t give us the money, what about… over there?” Disgusting. Looked decent enough, but couldn’t speak or act like a human being. Planning to hit me once the money was secured? I won’t give you the chance. I knew who “over there” was – that other woman. She was pressuring Jake to buy the house. But what did that have to do with me? Let Jake deal with his own headache. Since Jake had shown he might get violent, I definitely couldn’t stay under the same roof. If he actually hit me, I’d have no one to turn to. I packed my clothes and dug out the property deed from the closet. I opened it and planted a big kiss on the page showing only my name. Jake came from a rural background, clawing his way up through college. I was a city girl, raised comfortably. My family was well-off, and I’d met plenty of rich kids. But Jake presented himself as hardworking, down-to-earth, and kind, with a decent face – different from anyone I knew. We fell in love quickly in college, and after graduation, I married him despite my parents’ strong objections. My parents were furious at my stubbornness, practically wanting to crack my head open to see what was inside. But in the end, they relented and agreed to the marriage. I remembered my dad, wiping away tears in anger, shoving this deed and a bank card at me. “This is the house I bought for you, and the money in this card is your dowry. Don’t bother coming back to see your mother and me. We’ll pretend we never had a daughter.” I didn’t say anything then, just took Jake’s arm and left. I even complained that the 1500-square-foot house was too small. But now, I was incredibly grateful. Thank goodness I hadn’t impulsively added Jake’s name to the deed, otherwise, I’d have no way to kick this mother-son duo out later. I packed all my valuables into my suitcase and walked out under their watchful eyes, head held high. 5 Instead of going straight to my parents’ house, I went to the hospital first. Last time, my daughter was premature, which made her frail. I needed to check on the baby’s condition this time around. “Your baby is positioned very low. You should be on bed rest during the third trimester.” I clutched the check-up report, the doctor’s words echoing in my ears. I was already seven months pregnant. In these seven months, I’d only had two proper prenatal checks, both at small clinics. One was to determine the baby’s sex, the other because of sudden abdominal pain. I wanted to go to the main city hospital, but my mother-in-law always said it was unnecessary. “As long as the baby’s healthy, why waste the money?” After the first check revealed it was a girl, my mother-in-law threw the ultrasound report at my head right then and there, yelling, “Useless! A good-for-nothing can only produce another good-for-nothing! Our family line is going to end with you!” The second time was the sudden pain. I was so panicked I didn’t notice my mother-in-law’s reaction, just kept urging Jake to get me to the hospital. Thinking back now, her expression was clearly one of suppressed excitement and joy! I never even got a glimpse of the test results from that visit; Jake and his mother hid them completely. Jake even offered fake comfort, saying, “It’s nothing, you just got too emotional, there was a risk of miscarriage.” At the time, I wondered how that could be. I’d been trying hard to stay calm and avoid getting angry. How could “being too emotional” cause a threatened miscarriage? Thinking of this, I looked down at the report in my hand again, gripping it so tightly my knuckles turned white. I remembered my mother-in-law constantly nagging me, “Ashley, you have to walk around a lot before giving birth, that way you won’t have a difficult labor.” She repeated this almost daily. Luckily, back then I was genuinely scared of miscarrying, so I stayed put on bed rest for a while, which saved the baby. The thought sent a shiver down my spine. If I hadn’t come to the hospital today, wouldn’t my baby have suffered the same fate as last time? I clenched my teeth and cursed under my breath, “That old witch, always plotting how to harm me, never doing anything decent!” But right now, none of that mattered. The only thing in my head was “bed rest, protect the baby.” I ignored Jake’s incessant calls, carefully cradling my belly as I walked to the hospital entrance and hailed a cab. 6 This was the first time I’d been home in the three years since I married Jake. The furniture in the house hadn’t changed; it still felt familiar and warm. When I walked in, my parents were snuggled on the sofa watching TV. From the doorway, I could see their graying hair. They looked much older than three years ago. My nose stung, and I couldn’t even manage to call out “Mom, Dad.” For them, it was seeing the daughter they’d essentially cut ties with for three years. For me, it was the unspeakable regret spanning two lifetimes, separated by death. I stood in the doorway, pregnant, pulling my suitcase, momentarily speechless. My mom spotted me first. She froze, then nudged my dad urgently, “She’s home! Look, Ashley’s home!” My dad didn’t turn around immediately. As I stepped further inside, I couldn’t hold back anymore. I threw myself into my mom’s arms and sobbed uncontrollably. Mom held me tight, crying with me, gently patting my back. “You stubborn girl! Said you wouldn’t come back and really meant it! Did you think Mom and Dad would actually disown you?” I buried my head in her shoulder, shaking my head. My dad sighed heavily beside us. “You got hurt, didn’t you? Told you not to marry him! You wouldn’t listen. Would your parents ever steer you wrong?” I looked up at him. His aged eyes were filled with tears, a deep, undeniable pain in them. My parents’ faces merged with the last image I saw before I jumped in my previous life. Wiping my tears, I forced a smile. “Dad, you were right. Jake is no good. But I’ll make sure he pays for what he did!” My parents didn’t ask what exactly happened. But a married daughter, heavily pregnant, showing up at her parents’ doorstep looking disheveled and pulling a suitcase – it was obvious she’d been through hell. My dad nodded, patting my shoulder. “It’s okay if you took a wrong turn for a while. The important thing is to turn back.”

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My grades tanked on the midterms, and I got kicked out of the Honors Program, dumped back into regular classes. My parents took a belt to me until I was covered in welts, then made me kneel in the living room until late at night. My genius older sister, Emily, called me an idiot. My pretty, artistic younger sister, Chloe, flaunted the love letter she got from Ethan—the guy I had a secret crush on. So, I gripped the fruit knife tightly and killed them both with my own hands. 1. All I ever dreamed of was my parents acknowledging me just once, praising me just once. But growing up, it never happened. Not even once. All because I had a genius older sister, Emily, and a pretty, artistic younger sister, Chloe. Even though we were triplets, I was the plain, awkward one. Every time I handed my parents a report card where I barely scraped by, trembling, they’d scowl, and then, without warning, a slap would land across my face. My ears would ring violently, but it didn’t stop their voices from cutting through: “You pig! Do you think I work my ass off just so you can embarrass me like this? Are you brain-dead?” “Why don’t you just go die!” My parents were obsessed with appearances. And I was just a constant source of embarrassment for them. My nightmare always began after family get-togethers. My aunts, uncles… the words spilling from their mouths were like a curse. “My little Susie got straight A’s again, top of her class!” “My Timmy’s doing great too, made class president.” “Our Jenny won an award at the Mathletes competition!” Every time, my mom’s face would darken, forcing a tight smile. She’d glare at me, huddled in the corner with my head down. “Our Ashley just can’t compare to those good kids. Bad grades, no common sense… just useless.” Back home, the moment my dad reached for his belt, I’d wet my pants in fear. While I screamed and tried to shield my head, my sisters, Emily and Chloe, would stand nearby, watching with blank expressions. Emily’s brilliance and Chloe’s outgoing nature weren’t enough to erase the stain my uselessness brought upon my parents. I still don’t know why. I just couldn’t grasp those complicated math symbols, couldn’t memorize vocabulary words, couldn’t understand dense texts. Just looking at a textbook made me tremble. 2. I sat on the floor, staring blankly at Emily lying in a pool of blood. She still wore her thick, black-framed glasses, her face frozen in terror, hands clutching her bleeding stomach. Ignoring the throbbing pain all over my body, I tried to drag her corpse under the bed. We triplets had the exact same face. As I pulled her, I felt disoriented. It was like I was the one lying there. Or maybe, like I had finally become Emily. Emily was the smart one. She could effortlessly get the grades that made Mom and Dad happy. She could solve math problems in seconds that I couldn’t figure out even if I stared at them all night. At home, she could do whatever she wanted. Never yelled at, never hit, never forced to kneel. But she never helped me either. She’d only whisper in my ear while I studied late into the night, “Ashley, stop trying. You’ll never get it. You’re just an idiot.” “No matter how hard you work, Mom and Dad will never approve of you. In their hearts, there’s only room for their brilliant daughter—me.” As if to prove her point, the next second, Dad would get up to use the bathroom, see my light still on, kick my door violently, and start cursing. “It’s this late, and you’re still wasting electricity! If you can’t get decent grades, I’ll beat you to death!” Emily would just give a soft chuckle, yawn, and climb into bed for a peaceful night’s sleep. Now, she lay on the floor, pale and breathless, unable to mock me ever again. The sensation of the knife sinking into her soft belly was strange. I didn’t feel scared, just a sort of grim satisfaction. With her dead, would Mom and Dad finally see me? Finally approve of me? Would they stop tearing up my report card when I improved by one rank? Stop ripping up my honor roll certificates? Stop throwing away the gifts I saved up to buy them? 3. Using all my strength, I shoved Emily’s body under the bed. Then I leaned against the bed frame, gasping for breath. Chills ran through me, making me shiver. It was so cold. Just like that winter freshman year when I failed English. Dad ripped off my winter coat and made me kneel on the balcony in just my thin clothes. It was snowing that day. I was freezing, collapsing onto the cold concrete. The snow landed on my swollen, red face. It felt cool, almost soothing. I couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. That just made Dad angrier. He whipped me again, hard. “You stupid idiot! Your mother and I never amounted to anything, working dead-end jobs our whole lives. We pinned all our hopes on you, hoping you’d make something of yourself, make us proud! Why are you so damn dumb!” Emily and Chloe peeked out from behind Dad, making funny faces at me. I mumbled, “You still have them.” Dad kicked me again, harder this time. “Don’t change the subject! Talking back now, are you?!” A whimpering sound started. It wasn’t me; it was Mom. “Ashley! I eat leftovers every day ’til my stomach hurts, my hands are chapped and raw from washing your clothes, I walk everywhere instead of taking the bus, all to save money for your education! Why can’t you just try harder?” “Can’t you make your parents proud just once?” I looked towards where Emily’s body lay hidden and shook my head silently. There are so many naturally smart and talented people like her. Does only a child as brilliant as Emily deserve a parent’s love? Footsteps sounded outside the door. Mom and Dad! I held my breath, my heart pounding like it would burst out of my chest. “Is Ashley asleep?” “Looks like it. The light’s off.” “Sigh.” A heavy sigh, then silence returned outside the door. But that sigh felt like it crashed right into my heart. They must be so frustrated, so disappointed. I wanted to be the child they could be proud of. But… I just couldn’t do it. I could never be as perfect as Emily. Since I couldn’t become her, my only choice was to kill her. After shoving her under the bed, I let out a long breath. Emily, you must really regret coming in to mock me tonight after I got beaten, just like all the other times, right? I stumbled a few steps and tripped on something, nearly falling. Looking down, I saw a few paintbrushes. Nearby lay Chloe’s body. 4. I crouched down, reaching out to touch her cheek. I still couldn’t understand why, with the exact same face, she was considered prettier than me. Oh, right. She had that small beauty mark near the corner of her eyebrow, adding a playful charm. I really didn’t want to kill her. I liked her the most. She was pretty, cheerful, her eyes always bright, a smile always on her lips. What adult wouldn’t like her? Once, after finishing my homework, I secretly started drawing. Using a pencil, I sketched the world of my dreams. The lines and shades seemed to come alive, flowing and dancing on the page. I was lost in it when suddenly, Mom was standing behind me. I hadn’t even heard her come in. Her jaw clenched, she snatched my drawing, ripped it into shreds, grabbed my pencils, and threw them violently across the room. Then she dragged me up and called Dad. “Instead of studying, you’re messing around with this useless junk! Drawing? Can drawing put food on the table? If I catch you doing this again, I’ll break your hands!” As Dad smacked my palms with a ruler, Chloe skipped over, picked up my fallen pencils, her eyes sparkling as she examined them. After that day, Mom and Dad signed Chloe up for art classes. They didn’t pressure her about grades; they let her become an art student. I gritted my teeth and dragged Chloe’s body with all my might. The shiny fruit knife was still embedded in her stomach. As I pulled, a pink envelope fell out of her pocket. I picked it up, studying the envelope closely. This letter. This was what cost Chloe her life.

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My daughter was found in the gymnasium storage room. She wasn’t breathing. Her school uniform was gone. Semen was found on her lower body. The school blamed it on a homeless man with mental health issues. Three months after my daughter died, I received an anonymous text message. 【How do you like my masterpiece? Your daughter was crying for her mommy right before she died! It was so much fun hahaha…】 Masterpiece? My hand tightened around the phone. I was going to make the real killer truly “enjoy” my masterpiece! 1 I had just finished a surgery when I got the call from the homeroom teacher. The surgery had gone exceptionally well; the patient was stable. But before I could even take a breath, the teacher’s voice on the phone was frantic. “Chloe’s mom! You need to come to the school right away! Something’s happened to Chloe!” When I arrived at Maple Creek Middle School, the area was already cordoned off with police tape. I saw a group of officers struggling to restrain a man who was fighting wildly. He was dressed in rags, his hair a tangled, dirty mess, and he was screaming for them to let him go. Ms. Peterson, Chloe’s homeroom teacher, led me to the gym storage room. That’s where I saw my daughter. My Chloe lay naked and still on one of the green gym mats, her legs spread apart. A dark purple bruise circled her neck like fingerprints. Her wide eyes stared blankly at the ceiling, her face pale with the unmistakable look of death. Just yesterday, she’d been bouncing around, full of life. The world spun around me. I stumbled and fell to my knees beside her body. The moment I saw two officers carefully lift her into a body bag, I lost all control. A raw, heartbroken sob tore through me. After my husband passed away, it was just Chloe and me. She was my entire world, my reason for living! Who killed my daughter?! I stopped working, put everything on hold. Two weeks later, the police finally gave me their findings. They had interviewed students, Ms. Peterson, and people in the neighborhood. Piecing it all together, they arrived at a logical conclusion. The man who killed my daughter was the same one I’d seen the police struggling with that day. He was a homeless man, known to have psychiatric problems. He often wandered near the school, so the security guard hadn’t paid much attention. On the day Chloe died, the security guard had accidentally fallen asleep on duty. The man had slipped into the school and killed my daughter. I couldn’t accept it. My daughter… my Chloe… just starting seventh grade… Her life, barely begun, snuffed out by a mentally ill man! And violated even after death! What made it even worse was knowing that because of his diagnosis, the man wouldn’t face the death penalty – he’d just be sent to a psychiatric hospital. But the police report showed the semen recovered from my daughter was a definitive match to the homeless man. The hard evidence was laid out in front of me. Not just the police, but Ms. Peterson and the school administration urged me to accept the outcome quickly. “Sarah,” Ms. Peterson said gently, her voice full of strained sympathy, “I know this is incredibly hard to accept right now. But dragging this out won’t do anyone any good.” Filled with a turmoil of doubt, grief, anger, and confusion, I finally signed the paper closing the case. For the next three months, I felt hollowed out, stripped of all energy and spirit. I spent my days sitting numbly in the empty house, from dawn till dusk, replaying memories of Chloe. The hospital sent me a termination letter due to my unexplained absences. I had no heart left for being a doctor, for saving lives. Every time I thought of the patients I’d healed, a bitter unfairness washed over me. Why them and not my Chloe? Don’t they say good things happen to good people? Then why did my daughter die so horribly? One morning, I was sorting through Chloe’s things, tears streaming down my face, soaking the floor. “Chloe, you always complained I didn’t have time to play with you. Mommy was wrong. Please come back, okay?” I spoke to the empty air. Of course, the silent room offered no reply. Clutching the little pony stuffed animal she loved so much, a sudden urge hit me. I wanted to see the man who supposedly killed her. He was confined to the state psychiatric hospital now. No phones, no internet. Just patients with vacant stares. Through the thick observation window, I watched the man sitting on his bed. My hand slipped into my pocket… I had brought a knife. Just as I was about to rush in, to end him, my phone vibrated. An anonymous text message popped up. 【How do you like my masterpiece?】 【Your daughter was so stupid, so easy to trick. Oh, forgot to tell you, she was crying for her mommy right before she died!】 【Hahahaha so funny, so much fun…】

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My cancer came back. I begged my husband, Ethan, to take me to the hospital. Instead, he went to be with Sophia, his old flame. His parting words were cruel. “Your acting is getting way too convincing.” Ten years of devotion, and all I got was scars. Later, Sophia needed an emergency heart transplant. To give them their happily ever after, I gave Sophia my heart. But then… Ethan lost his mind. 1 Late at night, clutching my stomach where a dull ache pulsed, I struggled out of bed. Cold sweat beaded on my forehead from the pain. I needed to get to the hospital, but waves of sharp pain made me unsteady on my feet. Familiar footsteps approached the door—Ethan. I don’t know where I found the strength, but I gripped the doorknob tightly and opened the door. “Ethan.” Just saying his name felt like a knife twisting in my chest. Ethan stopped, turned, and looked at me with cold indifference. “You’re back. Have you eaten?” My voice was hesitant, trying to sound gentle, pleading without begging. But Ethan’s expression remained distant, cold, as if he hadn’t heard me. He turned to walk away. His dismissal pierced my heart. I stumbled after him, grabbing his sleeve. I bit my lip so hard I nearly drew blood. The sharp pains in my abdomen made it hard to breathe. “Let go!” Ethan’s eyes flashed with anger. I loosened my grip, daring only to hold onto the very edge of his cuff. My voice trembled. “Ethan, my stomach… it hurts really bad. It’s so late, can you please take me to the hospital?” If it had been daytime, I wouldn’t have bothered him. Ethan turned back, looking down at me intently. Suddenly, he let out a cold laugh. “Lauren, you’ve really perfected this act, haven’t you? How long did you rehearse this little scene?” He slowly pulled his sleeve from my grasp. He reached out, tilting my chin up. “From the day you betrayed me, I swore I’d never forgive you. Unless…” A cruel smile touched Ethan’s lips. “Unless you die.” It felt like all the blood in my body froze. I couldn’t stop shaking. Ethan didn’t look at me again. He went straight to his room and slammed the door shut with a resounding bang. It felt like a knife was twisting inside me. The pain forced me to my knees. Trembling, I fumbled for my phone and dialed 911. … Downtown General Hospital. The entrance bustled with cars and people hurrying by. I sat on a bench in the hallway, staring blankly ahead, clutching my test results. The results were in. Late-stage colon cancer. I couldn’t believe it. I went to find my friend, Mark Evans. He’d been a senior when I was in college, now a specialist in gastroenterology. My eyes were red-rimmed, but I managed a weak smile. “Mark.” I gripped the report tightly. “The doctor said… it’s late-stage colon cancer…” I looked at him pleadingly. “Can you check again? Maybe… maybe they made a mistake?” Mark quickly took the results, scanning them carefully while gently reassuring me. “Okay, Lauren, calm down first. Let me run some more tests, we’ll double-check everything. Don’t panic. Even if… even if the results aren’t good, I’m here for you. Just breathe.” Soon, I was wheeled back into an examination room. The new results came back the same. Late-stage colon cancer. I sat there stunned, my lips moving slightly. “How long… how long do I have?” Mark crouched down, meeting my gaze. His steady hand rested on my shoulder. “Lauren, I’ll do everything I can to save you.” His eyes were full of determination, but tears streamed down my face uncontrollably. “Cancer… it’s cancer, Mark.” I buried my face in my hands, sobbing quietly. Mark gently stroked my hair, offering silent comfort. This disease… it was like my marriage to Ethan. Rotted to the core, with no chance of getting better. 2 The room was dim. I sat alone on the sofa, not wanting to turn on the lights. Around midnight, I heard a car pull into the driveway. Soon, the front door opened, and Ethan walked in. He fumbled for the light switch. The sudden brightness revealed me sitting silently on the sofa, like a statue. He glanced away indifferently, loosening his tie as he headed upstairs. “Ethan.” I called out to him. He didn’t stop. My fingers clenched, nails digging into my palms. Watching his familiar back, I forced a smile. “Ethan, let’s get a divorce.” Finally, he stopped, just as I’d hoped. He stood silhouetted against the light, appearing even more remote. I couldn’t quite make out his face. My eyes traced the lines of his features. This was the man I had loved for ten years. Ten years of love that only earned his disgust and left me covered in wounds. I thought, maybe I shouldn’t drag him down anymore. “Can’t you go one day without causing drama? Is this some new game? Playing hard to get?” I stood up and took the divorce papers out of my bag. My hand brushed against the bottle of painkillers inside, and I paused for a second. Then, silently, I closed the bag. I walked over to Ethan and handed him the papers. “I’ve already signed it.” I tried hard to hide my emotions. “You want to marry Sophia, don’t you?” I forced another smile. “I’m setting you free.” If I had known earlier that he loved Sophia, I would never have married him, no matter what. Our marriage, born from my deepest hopes, had twisted into something unavoidable, something sustained only by my one-sided devotion. Ethan took the papers, glancing at my signature. He pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek, then tapped the papers against my shoulder. “Lauren Hayes, you should have gone into finance, not medicine.” He leaned closer, his eyes cold. “Divorcing me… how much of the Cole fortune are you planning to take?” I froze for a moment, my lips pressed tight. “I never wanted your money,” I whispered. Ethan stared at me, his eyes sharp like a hawk’s. A cruel smirk played on his lips. “Lauren, oh Lauren,” he said casually, “you’ve always been the type to do whatever it takes to get what you want.” “All your little underhanded tricks… they’re just an act to stay in the Cole family, to keep living comfortably under our roof, especially now that the Hayes family is going bankrupt.” “Right? Besides, a woman like you, who dropped me the second things got tough and latched onto someone else… how could you possibly stand living a hard life?” Hearing his harsh words, my body trembled uncontrollably. Ethan’s eyes were filled with ice. He turned to leave, but I spread my arms to block his path. “You love Sophia, don’t you? I’m letting you go! I’ll sign anything, I swear I won’t take a dime!” “Yeah, I love Sophia,” Ethan’s eyes narrowed, a tight smile on his lips. “And I’ll make sure she walks into this house as my wife, with all the respect she deserves.” He turned and left, the slam of the door echoing behind him. I turned and picked up the divorce papers from the floor, only bitterness remaining in my heart. A long while later, my phone rang. My mother, Linda, was crying on the other end. My father had collapsed from a severe illness and was rushed to the hospital. I hurried over. Only then did my mother tell me that Hayes Industries was on the verge of bankruptcy. The stress had triggered my father’s collapse. Suddenly, Ethan’s words echoed in my mind. Divorcing him, how much of the Cole fortune… No wonder. He must have known about my family’s troubles all along. My mother grabbed my thin arm as if clutching a lifeline. “Lauren, you have to ask Ethan for money! With his help, your father’s company can survive! You’re his wife, he won’t refuse you!” “He hates me,” I forced a bitter smile, my expression dim. “Why would he give me money?” My mother slapped me across the face. “Are you going to just stand by and watch your father die? Why are you so useless?!” My lips trembled. Looking at my mother, a chill went through me. Some mothers truly don’t love their children. She never cared about my feelings, only saw me as a meal ticket. Back when the Cole family business was in trouble, Rick Marshall somehow found where I was living. He showed me compromising photos of my mother with another man, Vince. He told me to go away with him for three days, out on his yacht, just to ‘relax’. He said if I went, he’d keep the photos secret. He also promised that if I dumped Ethan, he’d give Ethan a huge sum of money to pay off his debts and get through the crisis. Seeing Ethan so overwhelmed, stressed out, I felt helpless. Back then, I thought, if I could just help Ethan, what did it matter if he misunderstood me? So, I took the money from Rick and used it to secretly plug the holes in the Cole family finances. I said cruel things, broke Ethan’s heart. I never thought our paths would cross again. Until Ethan’s frail, bedridden father, Robert, asked to speak with me. He wanted me to marry Ethan. He said he knew what I’d been through, knew I had helped the family. At the time, I didn’t agree. But the very next day, my mother accepted a huge sum of money from the Cole family – essentially, sealing the deal. Robert Cole threatened Ethan with his own failing health until Ethan agreed to marry me. From that moment on, Ethan hated my guts. 3 Leaving the hospital room, I swallowed another painkiller. Turning, I saw a woman in a patient gown nearby. Her skin was pale, her eyes large and round, features delicate, figure slender. Sophia Bell. The woman Ethan loved now. My former best friend. I looked away, turning to leave. “Lauren Hayes.” Sophia called my name. Smiling, she walked up to me, looking down her nose at me. “I heard the Hayes family is finished. Look at you now. You were just taking medicine, are you sick? Wow, when it rains, it pours, huh?” I stared at her coldly. “Get lost.” Sophia didn’t get angry. She casually said, “You’re pathetic, you know that? Ethan doesn’t even want you, but you still cling to him.” Her eyes gleamed with triumph. “Did you know? Ethan’s been with me constantly these past few days, taking care of my every need.” “You want to be Mrs. Cole, is that it?” My lips tightened. “Tell him to come talk to me about the divorce.” Sophia’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t actually think he still loves you, that that’s why he won’t divorce you, do you?” She burst out laughing. “So naive.” “He’s just getting revenge on you.” “When he gets tired of playing with you, you’ll be nothing more than trash.” Sophia leaned closer to my ear, whispering disdainfully, “Oh, by the way, he’s never even touched you, has he?” My fingers trembled. I lifted my eyes, staring coldly at Sophia. “Know why?” Sophia’s fingernail slowly traced a line down my cheek. “Because he thinks you’re dirty. That money you used to bail out his family… Rick Marshall gave it to you, didn’t he?” “Are you finished?” I pushed her hand away. “If you’re done, then get lost.” Unexpectedly, Sophia suddenly crumpled, falling heavily to the floor. Footsteps hurried from behind her, and then Ethan was there, scooping Sophia into his arms. He lifted her up, then glanced back at me, still stunned. That one look sent ice through my veins. Sophia had been injured because of Ethan before; her bones were brittle. This fall caused another fracture or dislocation. Ethan didn’t say much, just picked her up and carried her towards the emergency room. 4 Late night, at the Cole estate. Ethan kicked open the bedroom door, ripped the covers off, and dragged me out of bed. “How could you be so vicious?” “How am I vicious?” I stared steadily at the man before me, tears welling in my eyes. “Ethan Cole, if you have the guts, then just kill me!” Tears blurred my vision, but my gaze remained defiant. “I never betrayed you! I never slept with Rick Marshall!” A sharp pain shot through my abdomen, and my body started shaking. Ethan stared at me with dark eyes. After a long moment, he laughed. “You think I’m as easy to fool as I was back then?” His eyes looked predatory. “Rick Marshall? Who is he? He tells everyone he likes you. You think he’d give you money if you didn’t sleep with him? None of the Marshalls are any good.” The pain made it hard to speak. I took a deep, ragged breath. I knew Ethan wouldn’t believe me. Finally, I forced a smile. “Fine. Think whatever you want.” I tried to push Ethan away, to get up, to leave this suffocating room. But Ethan pressed down on me. I struggled. “Ethan, let me go.” He leaned close to my ear, his hot breath fanning my skin. “You think I want to touch you? You make me sick.” He started unbuttoning his shirt, revealing his toned chest. “But didn’t you say you didn’t do anything?” His smile seemed to come from hell itself. “Let me check.” A violent shiver ran through me. I beat wildly against Ethan’s shoulders. But I was no match for his strength. A wave of sickening dread washed over me, and the pain in my abdomen intensified, feeling like a knife twisting. It was so intense I involuntarily curled up, cold sweat pouring down my forehead. “Stop pretending!” Ethan sneered. “I haven’t even touched you yet.” “Pain,” I gasped, shaking violently. “My stomach hurts.” Painkillers, painkillers. My mind screamed for them. I struggled, shoving Ethan away. Caught off guard, Ethan stumbled back, his leg hitting the nightstand. My bag, which had been sitting on it, fell to the floor. Pill bottles rolled out. My face tightened with panic as I scrambled to grab them, but Ethan snatched up a folded piece of paper first. His eyes scanned it, landing on the final words: LATE-STAGE COLON CANCER. His expression grew complicated as he looked at me. I was curled up on the bed like a fish out of water. Ethan bent down, picked up one of the pill bottles, and examined it. After a long pause, he scoffed, throwing the report and the bottle onto the floor. “Always coming up with new tricks.” He curled his lip coldly. “You think faking this stuff will make me feel sorry for you?” Ethan leaned down, gently wiping the sweat from my forehead. “You’re not Sophia. Don’t try to imitate her! Even if you died right now, I wouldn’t feel a damn thing.” Ethan left. I lay on the bed, picked up the bottle he’d thrown down, and swallowed a pill dry. An hour later, the pain gradually subsided. I stared at the plain white ceiling, and suddenly I started laughing. Laughing until tears streamed down my face. My phone rang. Wiping the sweat from my brow, I pressed the phone to my ear and answered. “Lauren, did you ask Ethan for the money?” It was my mother, Linda, again. I whispered weakly, “I’m not asking him for money.” “Then go ask Rick Marshall! Hasn’t he always liked you?” Linda grew frantic, her voice suddenly sharp. My fingers clenched the fabric of my clothes. My tone turned icy. “Anyone listening would think you were deeply devoted to Dad.” Linda paused. “What do you mean?” Remembering the photos Rick had, I rubbed my red eyes. “Vince.” That was the name of my mother’s lover. Silence on the other end. A few seconds later, she hung up. … 5 Mark Evans urged me to check into the hospital, but I refused. I got a large supply of medication, enough to last me a while. As I arrived home, I saw Ethan rushing out of the house. I rarely saw him look so anxious. The housekeeper told me something had happened to Sophia. Apparently, tests showed she had severe heart failure. An idea sparked in my mind. I followed him. In the hospital corridor, I saw Ethan pacing back and forth. He wore a black shirt and black pants, his hair slightly messy, eyes red-rimmed, lips pressed tightly together. He must be so worried, so heartbroken. After all, he loved Sophia so much. I thought, since I’m dying anyway, maybe I can do one last thing for Ethan. Hopefully, after I’m gone, he won’t hate me so much anymore. And hopefully, if there’s a next life, I won’t ever meet him again. Ethan’s team was frantically searching for a heart donor; the doctors said Sophia couldn’t wait long. And me? I signed the organ donation papers and secretly got tested for compatibility. Leaving the hospital, I took the pills out of my bag and dropped them into a trash can. I didn’t need them anymore. “Lauren.” Hearing the familiar voice, my body stiffened. Then, a large hand with well-defined knuckles rested on my shoulder. The man stepped in front of me. He had sharp features, a tall frame, and often smiled, but his smile always sent chills down my spine. I noticed a jagged scar on his neck. “Rick Marshall.” I closed my eyes, whispering his name wearily. Rick smiled at me, pointing to the scar on his neck. “Ethan did this. Tell me, how should I get back at him?” I suddenly remembered Rick saying something similar three years ago. “If you don’t come with me, tell me, how should I destroy Ethan Cole?” If Ethan’s family hadn’t been in trouble back then, I wouldn’t have been afraid. But at that time, the Marshall family was powerful, while the Cole corporation had suddenly collapsed. A single word from the Marshalls could have crushed Ethan, ensuring he never recovered. I laughed softly. “Rick, you deserved it.” Rick stared at me thoughtfully. “So you’re relying on Ethan now? I heard he’s gotten very close to your good friend, Sophia.” I didn’t want to talk to him anymore. But as I turned, dizziness washed over me. My body went limp, and I lost consciousness. … The Cole Estate, front gate. When I regained consciousness, the dull ache in my abdomen was still there. I felt exhausted, not wanting to open my eyes, but I could hear Ethan and Rick talking. Ethan’s voice was devoid of emotion. “Mr. Marshall, you’ve got some nerve coming here directly. What do you want?” “I’m bringing Lauren back. She fell asleep,” Rick replied cockily. “Oh? If she’s asleep, you could have taken her home. Why bring her here? What is she to me? I have somewhere to be, excuse me.” Ethan’s indifferent voice reached me, followed by the sound of a car engine starting. I slowly opened my eyes, staring blankly in the direction the car disappeared, my eyes stinging. I unbuckled my seatbelt to get out, but Rick pressed my hand down, turning to look at me. “You’re sick. Come with me.” His voice surprisingly held a hint of pleading. I didn’t want to speak. I pushed his hand away and got out of the car. Rick lowered the Bentley’s window. “Lauren, he doesn’t care about you at all. He’s definitely going to the hospital to see Sophia right now. If you don’t believe me, get in, I’ll take you there.” “It has nothing to do with me.” My back straight, I walked step by step into the Cole estate. Behind me, I heard Rick’s frustrated curses and the thud of him hitting the steering wheel. Night fell. In the hazy state between sleep and wakefulness, I heard the bedroom door open. Groggy, I started to sit up, but the smell of alcohol hit me. The scent was strong on the man, but not unpleasant. Moonlight filtered into the room, illuminating his face. “Ethan.” My eyes cleared. Ethan buried his face in my neck, his hand resting on my trembling shoulder. Tentatively, I wrapped my arms around his neck. Ethan didn’t pull away. My lips pressed together as I endured it. “Lauren.” The man’s hoarse voice calling my name made me waver. “Mm.” I smiled and responded. I cupped his face. This was my love, my Ethan. Ethan lowered his head, leaning closer. I could see his deep pupils, long lashes, and the faint crease of his eyelids. Ethan’s lips parted slightly, his eyes distant. “Lauren Hayes, why isn’t it you who’s sick?” “Why isn’t it you who’s dying?” “Stop it.” I froze, the clarity in my eyes dimming. My voice trembled as I begged him. Ethan’s eyes were hollow. He nestled beside me, whispering softly, “That rainy night three years ago, when you broke up with me over the phone… I went looking for you. I almost got hit by a car. Sophia pushed me out of the way, but she… she was hit instead. Her whole body was crushed, she barely survived after three days of emergency surgery… Lauren Hayes, how could you do this to me? How could you…” His words, though spoken softly, felt like a thousand arrows piercing my heart, leaving me utterly devastated. 6 There wasn’t deep hatred in his eyes, but that made me feel even colder. Not even hatred… how little did he care? I closed my eyes, a single tear tracing a path down my cheek. Ethan, did you know? I don’t have long to live either. I can give you what you want, disappear from your world forever. Then your world will brighten up, won’t it? Ethan was extremely drunk. He rolled over and fell into a deep sleep. I sat hugging my knees, awake all night. Only when a ray of sunlight peeked through the white curtains did I drag my stiff body up and quietly leave the room before Ethan woke up. I crouched in the laundry room, watching the washing machine spin, lost in thought. Hearing footsteps behind me, I immediately stood up. A strong arm wrapped around my waist, hot breath tickled my ear. His large hand tilted my chin up, forcing me to meet his somewhat hazy, flushed eyes. His cheeks were slightly pink. “Last night…” I gave him an awkward smile, pulling my arm from his embrace. “You drank too much. You threw up all over the bed.” Ethan’s lips tightened, and he dropped his hand. “Do you want some breakfast? I…” I lowered my head, hiding my thoughts. Ethan waved his hand dismissively. “I’m going to the hospital to see Sophia.” The smile froze on my face. “Go ahead. Goodbye.” My phone pinged. I looked down, avoiding his gaze, and saw the message. It was the compatibility test results. I could donate my heart to Sophia. I looked up, rubbing my stinging nose, and called out to Ethan as he was leaving. “Wait.” Ethan turned back. I gave him a faint smile. “Wait for me a second!” With that, I ran upstairs, grabbed a small, elegant gift box, and rushed back down. “This is for you. It’s a tie.” My stomach churned violently, but I kept my expression neutral. Ethan glanced at it. “The suit I’m wearing today doesn’t match this tie.” I shook my head. “It’s okay. You can wear it later. Later… maybe… I won’t have many chances to give you things anymore.” Ethan froze for a moment. Before, he would have tossed it aside without hesitation. But today, he slowly took the gift box. His deep eyes looked into mine until I lowered my gaze, breaking eye contact. Only then did he turn and leave. Third Street Hospital. I lay in the hospital bed. In just two short weeks, I had become frighteningly thin. My phone rang. A nurse handed it to me. Seeing the name on the screen, a smile touched my eyes. This was the first time in over three years that Ethan had called me voluntarily. My hands trembled as I reached to remove my oxygen mask, wanting to answer, just to hear his voice. … The call ended. The phone slipped from my hand. Nurses scrambled to replace my oxygen mask. My vision blurred. Looking at Dr. Mark Evans beside my bed, gripping my hand tightly, tears welling in his eyes, I managed a bitter smile. “Mark, I wish I could see tomorrow’s sunrise. I wish I could get another call from him. I…” But I knew it was impossible. Then, I felt my body become light. My soul seemed to detach, floating up towards the ceiling. I watched as Mark lifted my skeletal frame, crying out, “Lauren, don’t go! Lauren, please don’t go… I never told you, I…” Then, other doctors rushed in, pulling Mark away. They urgently wheeled me towards the operating room. Sophia was wheeled towards another OR. The bright surgical lights flickered on. Sigh. It’s time for me to go. This life was such a failure. I wasn’t a good daughter or a good wife. I didn’t even love myself properly. I had hoped Ethan and I could build a small family together, have two adorable children, explore the Rockies together, watch our kids grow up as they watched us grow old… I hope with my departure, Ethan gets his wish, grows old with the one he loves. I hope… in the next life, I never meet Ethan Cole again… 7 I am Ethan Cole, CEO of Summit Corp. The first time I saw Lauren Hayes, amidst blooming flowers at the equestrian center, my heart was lost. Her every smile, every glance, everything about her was perfect. I swore I would love her until death. Until Summit Corp nearly collapsed. The woman who swore she loved me turned around and left with Rick Marshall – the man who helped ruin my family – sailing off into the sunset. Although later, for various reasons, I still married her. But I buried my love for Lauren deep down, hurting each other constantly. Yet I knew, I couldn’t forget the depth of feeling from our youth. Love takes root, grows into a towering tree… Just when Sophia’s health seemed about to give out completely, I suddenly received a call from the hospital. A terminally ill patient was a perfect match for Sophia and willing to donate their heart. I was overjoyed. Sophia could be saved! I wanted to thank this person profusely, but the hospital said the donor wished to remain anonymous. I didn’t push it, just waited patiently. As long as there was a heart to save Sophia, that was enough. It would lessen the guilt I carried. I knew I didn’t love Sophia, but she ended up like this because of me. I had to take responsibility. As for Lauren… her betrayal, I couldn’t forgive it. … A problem with the European operations required me to fly out for a month to handle it personally. I left Sophia’s matters in the hands of my assistant, Alex. … “Mr. Cole, Mrs. Hayes’s father’s condition isn’t good.” I had just stepped out of a meeting when Alex approached me with the update. “How much do they need?” I asked impatiently. Alex stated plainly, “The hospital estimates around fifty thousand dollars.” “Wire the money to the hospital.” Back at the hotel, I lay on the sofa, resting. I felt like something was missing. I opened my messaging app and scrolled to my chat with Lauren. This entire trip to France, Lauren hadn’t sent me a single message. I scrolled up, reading through old messages. Mostly Lauren’s daily chatter, which I rarely replied to. Even with her father critically ill, she hadn’t told me. I frowned, closed the chat, and called home. “Where’s Lauren?” The housekeeper answered respectfully, “Madam went back to her mother’s a few days ago. She said she’d move back when you returned.” I breathed a sigh of relief. Lauren was easily scared – thunderstorms, the dark, pain. She wouldn’t want to be alone in that big house. On my fifteenth day in France, the hospital finalized the surgical plan. Sophia underwent several more tests and was cleared for the operation. I also heard that the person donating the heart to Sophia wasn’t doing well, likely wouldn’t live more than two weeks. I inquired casually. The doctor mentioned the donor had very advanced colon cancer. Hearing that, my heart skipped a beat. Colon cancer… Lauren’s report had also said colon cancer. The coincidence worried me. I immediately dialed Lauren’s number. The phone rang several times before she picked up. After a brief silence, I said quietly, “I’ll be back on the 7th of next month. Make sure you’re home on the 7th… uh, we need to go to the courthouse and finalize the papers.” “Okay.” Lauren agreed so quickly, it felt wrong. “Ethan, I’m so tired. Can I sleep a little longer?” Her voice sounded weak, drained. I glanced at the clock. It should be around 7 AM back home. I just assumed she wasn’t fully awake yet. Acting on impulse, for once I didn’t snap at her or make a sarcastic remark. Maybe because our marriage was finally ending. I said, “Okay. I’ll call you back later.” Unease lingered. Work that should have taken another two weeks, I finished in one. I booked the earliest flight back home. Before heading to the airport, something made me retrieve the tie Lauren had given me from my suitcase. The sapphire blue tie matched my suit perfectly today. I boarded the plane. Just before turning off my phone, I received a message from the hospital. “Mr. Cole, the donor is in critical condition. Ms. Bell’s heart transplant surgery is about to begin.”

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