Author: Momo Chan

While waiting for my prenatal scan, a girl bumped into me, sending me to the floor. A faint but clear red stain spread across my pants. Sharp pain shot through my stomach. I reached for my phone to call the police, but the girl, trembling like a frightened rabbit, begged, “Please, don’t call the police.” I stared at her, voice icy. “If something happens to my baby, who will take responsibility?” She hesitated, then said, “My boyfriend is a famous obstetrician here. He’ll take care of you. Let me call him.” The call connected immediately. From afar, I heard a man’s panicked, scolding voice. “I told you to use the family lane, but you refused. Don’t you know you’re fragile? The first trimester is critical.” “You can be mad at me, but not about our baby, okay? I’m coming now. Don’t cry. I’m here.” When the man in the white coat rushed toward us, full of worry, I realized—he was my own husband. The same one who had banned me from the family lane, calling it “causing trouble.” 1 The moment Marcus appeared, the pain in my stomach seemed to intensify, a dense, searing ache that brought tears to my eyes. Through a watery haze, I watched the man who had given me a tender good-morning kiss just hours ago. Now, his eyes saw no one but the girl on the floor, Laura. “Are you scared? Are you feeling sick? I told you to use the family access lane, but you wouldn’t listen. Now you see,” Marcus said, his tone sharp but his voice trembling with a thick undercurrent of worry. The hand he used to wipe away Laura’s tears was white-knuckled with tension. Laura looked up at him, her voice a soft whisper. “I didn’t want to cause you any trouble.” Marcus’s jaw clenched. “There’s nothing I want more than for you to rely on me, Laura. I fought to get to this position so that you could depend on me, so that I would be the first person you think of when you’re scared.” “I want to solve all your problems, you understand?” His words sucked the air from my lungs. I couldn’t even find the strength to prop myself up. Amid the gasps of the onlookers, my body went limp, and I slumped to the floor. I had heard Marcus say those things before, but they had been the exact opposite of what he was saying now. Early in my pregnancy, it was a high-risk situation. I was spotting every day, and getting an appointment with a good obstetrician was nearly impossible. One evening, I tried to coax Marcus, who had just gotten home. “I remember that senior doctors and professors have special access for their families. Honey, the check-ups are so exhausting. Could you apply for a spot for me?” At the time, Marcus had paused, his hands still on his scarf. He looked at me, his face a blank mask. “Vivienne, please, don’t make my life harder than it already is.” My hand, resting on his arm, froze. I looked up at him in disbelief, unable to comprehend how the loving husband I knew could say something so cruel. “I’m a senior consultant, yes,” he continued, “but if I make an exception for you, do you have any idea what the other patients, the ones you’re cutting in front of, will say? What my overworked colleagues will whisper behind my back?” “I’m up for a major promotion next year. Your casual request for ‘special treatment’ creates huge problems for me. I’m already exhausted from dealing with work and hospital politics.” “Vivienne, you used to be so understanding. How has being pregnant made you so selfish?” It felt like a physical blow to my heart. “I’m sorry,” I managed to say, my voice dry. “I was just so scared something would happen to the baby we’ve waited so long for.” Marcus and I had been married for five years. We’d gone through countless medications, endless tests, and finally conceived through IVF. After all that struggle, to finally have our baby, only to see blood every day… a deep, gnawing fear had taken root inside me. Now, Marcus’s words had made it bloom into full-blown terror. My breath hitched, and for a moment, I could barely see his face. He was still talking. “I’m an obstetrician, Vivienne. I know better than anyone if there’s a problem with the baby. Don’t be so dramatic.” It was only when he noticed how pale I’d become that he sighed, his voice softening into a placating tone. “Don’t worry. I won’t let anything happen to our child. Don’t you trust me? There, there, don’t cry.” So I swallowed my hurt. For every check-up, I obediently waited in line for two hours. I never even asked Marcus to come with me, afraid I would be a distraction from his important work. And this was my reward. To see him practically begging another woman to be a “trouble” to him. The family access he refused to get for me… he had been saving it for someone else all along. The man still fussing over Laura finally turned, his expression impatient. But the moment he saw the blood pooling beneath me, his pupils contracted. He reached out for me by pure reflex. With the last of my strength, I slapped his hand away. “Don’t touch me!” I hissed. Then, my head lolled to the side, and the world went dark. Through the fog, I could hear Marcus’s frantic voice. “Vivienne, hold on! I’m going to save you, I promise.” “Massive hemorrhaging, high-risk miscarriage! Prep an operating room, now!” A nurse spoke up hesitantly. “Dr. Reid, you have that national medical conference to present at soon…” Marcus cut her off. “No one else can save this baby. I have to do the surgery myself. I’ll take full responsibility for missing the lecture.” My hands clenched together unconsciously. Tears streamed from my closed eyes, but a small part of me felt a sliver of relief. I let go, surrendering to the blackness. Thank God. Marcus still cared about our baby. With him here, I wouldn’t lose our little life. I don’t know how much time passed. My eyelids fluttered open. I was still in the operating room, the surgical light blinding me. 2 I’ve always had a low tolerance for anesthesia. Marcus knew this; he would never have let me wake up mid-procedure. A sharp, slicing pain radiated from my lower abdomen. A terrible premonition washed over me. I forced myself to sit up, my eyes falling on a stranger’s face. He was making the first incision on my belly. My world narrowed to a single point of terror. “Who are you?” I shrieked. “Why aren’t you Marcus? Where is he?” “Marcus said he would save my baby! He was going to skip his lecture to operate on me! Why is it you? You’re in the wrong room, right?” The other doctor, a Dr. Peterson, was startled by my sudden awakening. “Ms. Scott,” he said, recovering quickly, “your condition is critical. If we don’t operate now, we might not be able to save your uterus.” “Right before you were brought in, a patient named Laura collapsed from shock. Dr. Reid is with her, stabilizing her pregnancy.” “Dr. Reid said her appointment was scheduled before yours. Even though you’re his wife, he can’t break the rules. But he’s been very responsible,” Dr. Peterson added quickly. “He specifically asked me to handle your surgery. I’m the only one here who can guarantee we save your uterus.” But I didn’t want my uterus. I wanted my baby. I could still feel a faint, fluttering heartbeat inside me. My baby hadn’t even had a chance to see the world. He had fought so hard to grow this big. I hadn’t even had the chance to call him by his nickname, Kicker. I couldn’t just let him die. Gritting my teeth, I shoved the doctor away. Clutching my bleeding abdomen, I ignored the searing pain and stumbled off the operating table. I staggered through the hallway, screaming Marcus’s name. “Marcus, come out! I’m begging you, save our baby! You promised you would protect him!” “Marcus, I’m not angry anymore! If you just save our baby, I’ll pretend today never happened! We waited so long for him! Last night, he kicked your hand, don’t you remember?” “Please, don’t be so cruel! I’m begging you, save him!” Staff and patients stared at me, whispering amongst themselves. “Is that woman crazy? Dr. Reid is in the middle of surgery.” “I think that’s his wife. But even so, she can’t just demand he abandon another patient to save her. So selfish.” I didn’t care about their scornful words. I just kept crying his name, a desperate, wounded sound. The bleeding, which had never really stopped, now flowed freely down my legs, leaving a gruesome trail of red in my wake. Dr. Peterson caught up to me, trying to support my swaying body. “Are you trying to kill yourself? It’s just a baby! You and Dr. Reid can have another one later!” I shoved him away with a stubborn fury. As long as there was a sliver of hope for my baby, I wouldn’t give up. Finally, I found him. He was in another operating room. He was focused, his expression grim as he worked. A spark of hope ignited in me. I pressed myself against the viewing window. “Marcus! Our baby is still alive! He’s still alive! Please, just this once, make an exception for me!” “I can’t lose him, Marcus. I really can’t.” When my hands grew too weak, I resorted to banging my head against the glass, praying he would see me. Marcus’s steady hand trembled. He slowly looked up, and his eyes met mine. I saw his body stiffen. I didn’t care. I poured all my remaining energy into my plea, begging him to choose me, just this once. But then, Laura, on the operating table, moaned and frowned in discomfort. Marcus’s gaze immediately snapped back to her. I saw the mask move as he spoke. A nurse came out and, without a word, injected a syringe into my arm. The last of my strength drained away, and I collapsed to the floor. The nurse spoke to Dr. Peterson, who was still standing behind me. “Dr. Reid said she has a low tolerance for anesthesia, so you need to increase the dosage. He said if the baby can’t be saved, it can’t be saved. Just make sure you save the uterus.” “His procedure is at a critical stage. If you can’t control your patient and she disturbs him again, he’ll make sure you fail your next performance review.” 3 The operating room doors swung shut again. My eyes were wide open, tears streaming silently down my face as I was pushed back inside, utterly defeated. I was conscious enough to feel the scalpel slice open my belly. I felt them remove the child, the one who was part of my own flesh and blood, from my womb. I saw them toss his tiny, silent body into a waste bin. My eyes followed that bin until it was wheeled away, disappearing from my sight forever. A wave of dizziness washed over me. The pain in my abdomen spread to my heart, a crushing agony that made it impossible to breathe. The stitching was quick. Dr. Peterson wiped the sweat from his brow. “We saved the uterus.” “Ms. Scott, don’t blame Dr. Reid. For him, the patient’s needs always come first.” “Besides, he’s never pulled strings at the hospital before, never asked for a VIP room. This time, he was very firm about getting one for his family. He does care about you. As his wife, you need to support his work.” Dr. Peterson chattered on, defending Marcus. I stared at the white light on the ceiling, my hands pressing down on my now-flat stomach in a gesture of self-punishment. A cold laugh escaped my lips. “So I should thank him?” Dr. Peterson fell silent and pushed open the door to a VIP room. “You should get some rest. Dr. Reid will be here to see you soon…” He didn’t finish his sentence. I turned my head and looked into the room. Marcus was there, cradling a sleeping Laura in his arms, gently wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. “I know you’re a light sleeper,” he murmured. “I specifically requested this room for you. Don’t worry about anything else. I’m here. Our baby is going to be born healthy and strong.” Noticing the movement at the door, Marcus looked up and saw my ashen face. His lips tightened into a thin line. Dr. Peterson quickly pulled my gurney back, stammering an apology to Marcus. “I’m so sorry, Dr. Reid. I heard you requested a room for family, so I brought Ms. Scott here…” Even then, Marcus carefully settled Laura back onto the bed before he came out to face me. He even had the presence of mind to gently close the door, so she wouldn’t be disturbed. He rubbed his temples and dismissed Dr. Peterson. Then, he finally met my gaze. “Vivienne, Laura just had a major scare. She needs quiet to rest and keep the baby safe. I’ve already lost one child today. I can’t lose another.” “I know I’ve wronged you in this… Vivienne, the most important thing now is for you to recover…” SLAP! I struck him across the face with all my might. The extreme grief had paradoxically calmed me, freezing my emotions into a shard of ice. “How did you two meet?” Marcus turned his head to the side, closing his eyes for a moment before answering. “She was my student. Laura is a good girl. She knows we’re married, and she didn’t want me to hurt you by divorcing you. She was willing to be with me without any official status.” “When she found out you were pregnant, she kept telling me to go home and take care of you. She wouldn’t even let me accompany her to her own check-ups. I gave her the family access pass to make it up to her, but she never even used it.” “Laura has already been through enough. Take your anger out on me. She has nothing to do with this.” “Hahahaha.” I started laughing, a wild, broken sound that brought fresh tears to my eyes. So he had already considered divorcing me. The only reason my marriage was still intact was thanks to Laura’s “pity.” The way Marcus defended her, so openly and without shame, was another sharp, twisting knife in my already bleeding heart. I lunged at him like a wild animal, scratching and clawing. “Marcus, you bastard! I hope you rot in hell! You’re going to pay for what you did to my Kicker!” Marcus stepped forward, clamping a hand over my mouth. Then, he actually injected me with a sedative. “Vivienne, I will make this up to you. But the hospital can’t know about this. I’m up for promotion, remember?” “The hospital is short on beds. I’ve already requested one VIP room, I can’t break the rules and ask for another. Please, for my sake, just put up with a temporary bed in the hallway.” 4 “Don’t worry,” he added, his voice a low murmur. “I’ll come check on you constantly.” My body went limp on the gurney. I watched, helpless, as Marcus pushed me to a solitary, temporary bed at the end of the corridor. Passersby stared, pointing and whispering. “That’s the crazy woman from before. Screaming like she owns the place.” “Dr. Reid has the patience of a saint. He isn’t even angry, he’s taking care of her himself.” Despair washed over me, a tidal wave that drowned out everything else. The tears wouldn’t stop. Just as Marcus finished settling me in, the hospital director came rushing over. “Professor Reid, I’ve been looking everywhere for you! The officials from the national health board heard you missed the lecture to save a patient. They were incredibly impressed! They’ve agreed to wait for you to finish your surgery before you present.” “It’s going to be live-streamed nationwide. Never mind these patients, you need to come with me right now.” The man who had just promised to care for me dropped my hand without a second thought and hurried away. I dug my nails into my palm, using the sharp pain to claw back a sliver of strength. Leaning against the wall, I staggered after them. The lecture was clearly a major event. Several top figures in the medical community, faces I recognized from television, sat in the front row, looking at Marcus with approval. Marcus gave a solemn bow and spoke into the microphone, his image projected onto the live-stream feed. “My sincerest apologies. An emergency surgery delayed my presentation. But I have no regrets. A doctor’s duty is, first and foremost, to his patients.” A wave of applause and murmurs of praise filled the hall. “A true physician’s heart,” someone whispered. Marcus pushed his glasses up, hiding the smug smile that touched his lips, before clicking open his presentation. “The topic of my lecture today is the promotion of the extraperitoneal cesarean section.” But the image that appeared on the giant screen was not a medical diagram. It was a photo of him and Laura, naked in bed together. The color drained from Marcus’s face. I stood in the back, in the shadows, holding up my phone, which was playing a recording. My voice, amplified, rang through the hall. “Excuse me, Dr. Reid, but is your ‘physician’s heart’ reserved only for your mistress, Laura?”

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It was New Year’s Eve, and I was setting off fireworks with my sister when my husband’s young apprentice suddenly called. “Alice, I’m so sorry. I’m such an idiot.” Her voice was choked with panic. “We were lighting fireworks, your sister and I, and I… I accidentally shoved a lit firework into her hand instead of the lighter.” “Half her face is mangled, she’s screaming… I swear, I didn’t mean to! Please don’t be mad!” “I know Grayson will forgive me, but I… I need you to forgive me, too.” I glanced at my own sister, Rosie, who was grinning beside me, perfectly fine. I listened to the agonized screams on the other end of the line and my voice grew sharp with urgency. “Why are you asking for my forgiveness now? Get her to a hospital! That’s not my sister—” Before I could finish, her wails intensified. “I knew you wouldn’t forgive me! What am I supposed to do?” Then, through the phone, a familiar, fragile voice whimpered, “It hurts… my face hurts so much… Sister, save me… save…” A chill shot through my entire body. “Are you insane? That’s Poppy! She’s the apple of Grayson’s eye!” The apprentice, Felicity, only cried harder. “Just say you forgive me, and I’ll take her to the hospital.” “Poppy has severe autism! She would never go out with you. And besides, she calls you by your name, not ‘sister’! You can’t fool me!” The gut-wrenching screams continued in the background, but now Felicity’s voice took on a resentful edge. “Actually, Alice, I’m doing you a favor.” My mind went blank. “A favor? What are you talking about?” Her tone turned triumphant. “Your sister comes prancing into the office, all dolled up, asking for Grayson. It’s obvious she wants to seduce her own brother-in-law. You must be thrilled that a little tramp like her is disfigured now, right?” My mouth opened, but no sound came out. There was a reason Poppy called me ‘sister’. I have a degree in special education, and she was the very first student I ever taught after my internship. She adored me, more than her own brother, which is why she called me ‘sister’ and referred to Grayson by his first name. And the reason she was so beautifully dressed tonight? It was my idea. I told her New Year’s Eve was the most important night of the year, a time to dress your best to see the people you love. My voice trembled as I begged, “I forgive you. I forgive you right now. Just get her to the hospital, please! Now!” “Grayson will lose his mind when he finds out. He’ll kill you.” Grayson, a top forensic pathologist, had a warm smile that masked a cold heart. Yet he doted on his only apprentice, endlessly patient with her blunders, always protecting her. But none of that could ever compare to the fierce, protective love he had for his autistic sister. After my plea, however, the line went silent. I screamed Felicity’s name over and over, simultaneously bolting from my apartment complex and flagging down a cab, shouting the address of the old family estate. Just then, Felicity’s voice returned, laced with a chilling calm. “You know, Alice? I’ve changed my mind.” “Even if you forgive me, I can’t take her to the hospital.” My eyes widened in disbelief, my body shaking uncontrollably. I urged the driver to go faster, faster, my question a useless whisper into the phone. “Why?” Felicity held the phone closer to Poppy. The girl was too weak to even scream in pain anymore, just murmuring deliriously for her brother, for her sister. The sound was a knife in my heart. Tears streamed down my face as I roared, “Why?” Felicity’s voice dripped with venom. “My mentor is so good to me, but I’ve never seen you this frantic for him. It just proves how important this little bitch is to him! Why would I ever save such a huge obstacle?” I never imagined that my desperate attempt to save Poppy would be the very thing that condemned her. I’d always known Felicity was in love with Grayson. It takes two to tango, and while Grayson never fully accepted her advances, he never rejected them either. He just grew gentler with her day by day. He would always chide me for being petty. “Felicity is just a young woman trying to make it in the big city alone, Alice. You don’t need to be so jealous.” “She’s just my apprentice. I’m not some kind of monster who’d have inappropriate feelings for his own student!” But his last apprentice had been mercilessly kicked out of the studio for a single, minor mistake. Felicity, on the other hand, once used special effects to make a prank video with a cadaver, and all she got from Grayson was a fond “You’re so mischievous.” After a while, I stopped fighting it. I just wanted to live a quiet life with Poppy and my sister. But this time, I had to fight. I hung up and immediately dialed Grayson. As the seconds ticked by, I prayed, Pick up, Grayson, please, pick up! The call was ruthlessly declined. I tried again, and again, refusing to give up. I had just arrived at the gates of the family estate when he finally answered. “Do you have any idea that I’m working?” he snapped. “If I mess this up because you distracted me, are you going to take responsibility?” He had always been like this. With his prestigious family background and reputation as a genius pathologist, he’d always looked down on me, a simple teacher. For the first time, I screamed back at him. “Is your work more important than Poppy? Do you have any idea what Felicity’s done? She took Poppy and burned her with a firework!” “She’s holding her hostage right now, refusing to take her to a hospital!” Grayson’s immediate reaction was denial. “That’s impossible. Felicity isn’t that kind of person!” “I did ask Felicity to go to the estate for the holiday, but Poppy is at the care facility. Her condition has been a bit unstable lately…” His voice suddenly dropped, turning to ice. “Alice, you better pray you’re not lying. If I find out you made this up out of jealousy, that you cursed my sister… I will make you regret it.” Before he could say more, I let out a hollow laugh and ended the call. I burst into the old manor, only to find the grand courtyard empty save for spatters of blood and the trampled grass that marked a desperate struggle. Poppy wasn’t here. My heart felt like it was being crushed by an invisible hand, the pain so intense I could barely breathe. The enormous villa was devoid of servants. Only Felicity was there, lounging in one of my silk robes, swirling a glass of red wine as if she were the true mistress of the house. “Where is she? Where have you hidden Poppy?” Felicity examined her fingernails with a smirk. “So the little bitch’s name is Poppy. How ugly.” Rage exploded in my chest. I snatched a nearby vase and hurled it at her. “I asked you where she is! Give her back to me!” She dodged it gracefully, a mocking smile playing on her lips. I ignored her, screaming at the top of my lungs, “Poppy! Where are you? It’s me, sister is here! Don’t be afraid!” I shouted until my throat was raw, and then I heard it, a faint, rhythmic thudding. I looked over in disbelief. It was coming from the direction of the main bathroom. Fighting to control the tremors racking my body, I sprinted towards the sound and threw open the door. The sight that met my eyes made my vision swim with red. The little girl Grayson and I had cherished and protected was covered in blood, bound tightly with thick rope that twisted her body into an unnatural shape. And her head… her head was shoved humiliatingly into the toilet bowl. My vision turned red. I lunged forward, my fingers fumbling as I frantically untied the knots. My voice was a choked, trembling whisper. “Don’t be afraid, Poppy. Sister’s here.” She managed a faint whimper, her eyes fluttering open to look at me for a single moment before she passed out. That one glance sent a wave of agony through my chest. Her face was a raw, unrecognizable mask of blood and ruined flesh. Her right eye… it wasn’t an eye anymore. Shaking, I gathered her into my arms, ready to run. But a sweet, questioning voice stopped me. “Strange. Did I say you could take the little bitch?” Before I could react, a vicious kick landed on my lower back. I bit back a cry of pain, curling my body to shield Poppy as I fell. I turned my head and saw that the once-empty living room was now filled with the familiar faces of the household staff. I stared at them in horror. “I am the mistress of this house! What do you think you’re doing?” My gaze locked on the head butler. “This is Poppy in my arms! She’s badly hurt, I have to get her to a hospital!” The butler didn’t even spare her a glance. Instead, he bowed respectfully to Felicity. “Miss Felicity, Mr. Blackwood gave explicit orders. You are in charge here at the estate, and we are to ensure no one gives you any trouble.” My attempt to shuffle toward the door with Poppy in my arms was seen. A security guard stepped forward without hesitation and stomped down hard on my ankle. An involuntary scream of pure agony ripped from my throat. Pain shot through me, and I gasped through trembling lips, “This is Poppy…” The butler squinted, his expression doubtful. The bloody figure in my arms, dressed so differently from the withdrawn girl he was used to, didn’t register. Felicity chimed in at the perfect moment. “That’s her sister. She tried to throw a firework in my face, but it backfired on her. I was so angry, I refused to let her get treatment. Uncle,” she said, turning to the butler, “Grayson won’t be mad at me, will he?” The butler’s face instantly softened. “Of course not, Miss. A woman like that deserves what she gets!” “Besides,” he added, “if Mr. Blackwood knew someone tried to harm you, the consequences would be far worse than this.” My heart sank like a stone. Of course. My sister’s name was Rosie. It didn’t sound exactly like Poppy, but in the heat of the moment, to a man who barely knew his master’s sister, it was close enough. Felicity’s smile widened. “Well then, what are you waiting for? Tie that bitch up. I want her to know what it feels like to have fireworks exploding on her skin.” I was close to despair, my voice raw as I screamed, “You wouldn’t dare!” Just then, a phone rang. The butler answered respectfully. “It’s Mr. Blackwood.” My heart leaped into my throat. A wave of relief washed over me. He must have realized Poppy was missing. Thank god, we were saved! The call was put on speaker, and Grayson’s cold voice filled the hall. “Alice might be heading to the estate shortly. Don’t let her bully Felicity.” “If you have to, teach her a lesson. She’s been getting completely out of hand lately, even cursing Poppy, who’s safe and sound at the care facility!” A strangled gasp escaped my lips. “How is that possible?” The butler hung up, his last restraint gone. “Tie them both up and drag them outside!” I fought desperately to protect Poppy, but it was useless. We were bound tightly and thrown onto the lawn outside the villa. Felicity was like a child with a cruel new toy, her laughter echoing in the cold night air. She lit a firecracker, waiting until the fuse burned short before flinging it at us. The terror of the impending pain made me flinch, but I couldn’t move. Poppy’s body couldn’t take any more. I threw myself over her, shielding her with my own body. The searing agony of the explosion and the flames biting into my skin ripped a scream from my throat. But Felicity wasn’t satisfied. “Pull them apart!” she ordered. “I don’t want to hurt my mentor’s wife! Just teach this little slut who tried to seduce her brother-in-law a lesson!” I don’t know where the strength came from, but I slammed myself into the guards, standing over Poppy like a protective mother hen. It was no use. They pried my fingers away, even tearing the fabric of Poppy’s clothes from my teeth. Poppy was left alone, lying on the vast, empty lawn like a broken doll. My despair was so absolute I could barely make a sound. Just as a lighter flickered near another fuse, the doorbell rang through the night. “Police! We received a report of an illegal assault taking place at this address.” Thank God, they were here! I opened my mouth and shrieked, “Help! Help, there’s been a murder! Please—” I only managed one sentence before a hand clamped down hard over my mouth and nose. The world started to spin as darkness crept into the edges of my vision. In a daze, I thought I was hallucinating. I thought I heard Grayson’s voice. “I apologize, officers. My wife has been under a great deal of stress lately. Her mental state isn’t… stable. She’s been imagining that people are trying to hurt her.” “I’m so sorry for the trouble.” A sympathetic voice replied, “Not at all, Mr. Blackwood. It must be difficult for you. We’ll be on our way.” No! It wasn’t a hallucination. My eyes flew open. I thrashed wildly, but only muffled grunts escaped my throat. The gate opened, and Grayson strode in alone. His eyes fell upon the scene on the lawn—Poppy’s still form, my own disheveled state—and his pupils constricted. Tears burst from my eyes as I pleaded with him silently. Grayson, save Poppy! She’s dying, she’s really dying! But in the next second, he walked straight to Felicity, his voice soft, a hint of a smile in it. “Feel better now?”

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During a zombie-clearing mission, I was infected with the virus while protecting my squad. My girlfriend, Luna, the team captain, cited the need to “avoid any appearance of favoritism” and gave the only antidote to another squad member who’d been infected after sneaking out. Her eyes were red as she promised me, “Jax, trust me. I will find another antidote for you within the three-day incubation period.” I nodded, fighting back the fire searing through my veins. The next day, she actually returned with another dose. But just a second before the needle was to enter my arm, Cole, a team member who had never once set foot outside the camp, suddenly frowned. “Luna, my head… it hurts so much. I’m so scared… What if I’m infected?” In front of everyone, Luna didn’t hesitate. She handed the antidote to Cole. “Cole is one of my people. If something happens to him, it’s my failure as a captain.” “Jax, you’re my second-in-command, and you’re my boyfriend. I have to remain impartial.” I saw the flicker of triumph in Cole’s eyes and the unyielding set of Luna’s jaw, and a bitter laugh escaped my lips. Impartial? Fine. She would soon learn that without me, she was nothing. 1. When Luna handed the antidote to Cole, she didn’t even glance at me. “Cole, you take this first.” Her voice was as casual as if she were handing him a bottle of water. Cole took the vial, a smugness he couldn’t hide flashing in his eyes. Luna then passed me a small bottle of cloudy, transparent liquid. She avoided my gaze. “A suppressant. It’ll buy you some more time.” That cheap suppressant was useless for an infection as advanced as mine. My voice was calm. “You know this won’t work on me.” Luna’s eyes darted away, her brow furrowing. “Jax, don’t be difficult. Cole’s constitution is weak. If he’s really infected…” I cut her off with a cold laugh. “He hasn’t been on a single mission since he joined the team, and he doesn’t have a scratch on him. How could he possibly be infected?” Luna’s voice rose. “That’s just what you can see on the surface!” “You know the virus has a three-day incubation period! As captain, I am responsible for every single member of this team!” “You’re my boyfriend, and you’re the vice-captain. If I give the antidote to you instead of him, what will the others think of me? How am I supposed to lead this team? I have to avoid any appearance of favoritism!” The same excuse again. The grey, vein-like patterns on my right arm were slowly creeping toward my shoulder, the burning sensation under my skin growing more intense by the second. I stared at her, took a deep breath. “So, my life is less important than your reputation? And you think you can just fob me off with a useless suppressant?” Luna’s expression faltered. “What are you saying? I promise you, I’ll go to the West District research lab tomorrow. I will bring back an antidote!” “Can’t you just trust me one more time?” Before the apocalypse, back at the military academy, Luna and I were the perfect partners. She commanded, I charged. She made the plans, I executed the details. Everyone said we were made for each other. On graduation day, she stood on the training grounds and told me: “Jax, for the rest of your life, you can trust me completely.” When the world ended, I helped her build this survivor squad, willingly taking the backseat. I gave her all the credit and took all the risks. In three years, this team grew from seven people to over forty. She became the revered Captain Luna. And what did I get for it? Endless excuses about favoritism, endless promises of “next time.” If my powers hadn’t vanished when the virus took hold, making me nothing but zombie food outside these walls, I would never have pinned my hopes on her finding a cure for me. A deep weariness settled over me. “This isn’t the first time you’ve made a promise.” She grabbed my hand, her eyes pleading. “This time is for real!” “Just like every mission before, when you trusted me with your back. Jax, trust me one last time.” I looked at the hand that had once held mine tight through hails of gunfire and heard myself say: “Fine. One last time.” Luna let out a breath of relief. “Go back and rest. I’ll arrange the personnel and route for tomorrow. Everything will be okay.” I turned and walked away without looking back. The moment I was out the door, I heard Cole’s hushed voice. “Luna, he was so scary just now. Do you think he’s already…” Luna’s voice was soothing. “Don’t be afraid. He’s fine for now.” Back in the quarantine room, I leaned against the wall and slid to the floor. The fire in my right arm was intensifying. This was the second day of my infection. According to the typical progression, I should be starting to show signs of muscle stiffening and sensory decay. But I wasn’t. Apart from the heat and occasional stabbing pains, my mind was unnaturally clear. Stranger still, I could feel something inside me beginning to awaken. From the distant ruins, the roars of zombies echoed, one after another. This wasn’t the sound of a small pack. Without my powers reinforcing the camp’s outer defenses, they wouldn’t hold for long. I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. Tomorrow is the third day. Luna, this is the last chance I’m giving you. 2. Just as dawn broke, I stormed out of the quarantine room. The gray veins had already crawled halfway across my shoulder. Overnight, the stench of rot in the air seemed to have grown thicker. I could feel the zombies on the perimeter closing in. Without my combat strength, it was only a matter of time before the camp fell. The door to Luna’s room was slightly ajar. I pushed it open. And froze. Luna was curled up on the simple cot, and Cole was lying beside her, both of them under the same blanket. Cole’s hand was resting on Luna’s waist. She was nestled against his chest, sleeping soundly. My mind went blank for three seconds. Then it exploded. “Luna!” I roared her name, lunging into the room, yanking Cole up by his collar, and smashing my fist into his face. Cole screamed and tumbled off the bed, blood gushing from his nose. Luna jolted awake. Seeing the scene before her, her face went white. “Jax! What are you doing?!” I pointed a trembling finger at Cole. “What am I doing?” “You’re asking me what the hell I’m doing?! Luna, look at what you’re doing!” Cole scrambled up, clutching his face and hiding behind Luna. “I… I just… I suddenly had infection symptoms last night. I was scared, so I came to talk to the captain about the antidote…” I laughed, a harsh, humorless sound. “And you needed to do that in the same bed? While holding my girlfriend?” Luna stepped in front of Cole, her eyes filled with a flash of panic, but mostly, with anger. “Jax, that’s enough! Cole really was showing early signs of infection last night. Is it wrong for me, as his captain, to look after a team member?” “We didn’t do anything!” I stared at her disheveled collar. “Luna, do you take me for an idiot?” Her voice suddenly shot up. “Look at yourself! You’re suspicious, impulsive, violent! Do you even remember that you’re the vice-captain?!” I was stunned. I remembered a time before the fall, in the academy’s infirmary. I had a 102-degree fever from an old injury flared up by intense training. Luna skipped a whole afternoon of classes to sit by my bed, changing the cloth on my forehead, feeding me water, and eventually falling asleep with her head on the edge of my mattress. When she woke up, she’d said: “Jax, if you dare die before I do, I’ll chase you to hell and beat you back to life.” Back then, her eyes held concern, a genuine fear of losing me. And now? She looked at me, and her eyes were ice. “Today’s mission is critical. I don’t have time to argue with you. Cole, get ready to move out.” Cole nodded immediately, wiping the blood from his nose as he walked out. As he passed me, he shot me a look of pure provocation. I grabbed Luna’s wrist. “You’re taking him?” Luna wrenched her arm free. “He knows the terrain in the West District.” “Jax, looking at you now, how can I possibly trust you with the team?” “You wait here in the camp. I’ll bring the antidote back.” She gathered her gear and left without a backward glance. I stood there in the empty room, staring at the cot, at the blanket that still held the warmth of two bodies. The power inside me surged violently. The gray veins instantly spread across my chest. My skin felt like it was about to split open, the burning sensation threatening to consume me. But I held it back. I clenched my fists, my nails digging so deep into my palms that blood dripped between my fingers. Luna, you chose him again. Then this is where we end. I staggered back to my room, leaning against the wall and gasping for air. I was certain now. This infection was not normal. The sound of an engine starting up came from outside. I went to the window and saw three modified off-road vehicles drive out of the camp gate. Luna was in the passenger seat of the lead vehicle. Cole was sitting in the back, right behind her. He leaned forward, saying something to her, and Luna smiled. A relaxed, unguarded smile. I hadn’t seen her smile like that in a very long time. The convoy disappeared beyond the ruins. I closed my eyes. Luna, if you’re not back by sunset today, you will regret the choice you made. 3. I waited through the burning pain until nightfall. I heard people whispering, saying they’d seen signs of an unusually large zombie horde on the move. And all I could do was watch, and wait, and hope Luna would return with the antidote. The sun dipped below the horizon. The camp flickered to life with a few scattered emergency lights. Finally, the roar of engines echoed from the distance. Three vehicles. Not one was missing. My heart hammered against my ribs. She was back. I scrambled downstairs and ran to the center of the camp. The car doors opened. Luna was the first one out, followed by the others. Cole was the last. My eyes were glued to their hands. Luna’s were empty. Cole’s were empty. The team started unloading a few supply crates, but there was no sign of an antidote case. My breath caught in my throat. “Where is it? The antidote?” My voice was a raw, hoarse whisper. The camp fell silent. Luna’s gaze flickered, then she looked away. “The antidote… We… we found it.” My heart leaped. She bit her lip. “But on the way back, we ran into a horde. Cole was scratched while he was protecting the supply truck.” “It was an emergency. I had to give the antidote to him first.” I looked at Cole. He immediately held up his bandaged hand, his expression full of guilt. “Vice-captain, I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean for it to happen…” “Which hand?” I asked. Cole froze. “Wha-what?” I took a step closer. “How deep is the wound? How much did it bleed?” “Have you shown any signs of infection?” Cole’s eyes darted nervously to Luna. Luna stepped between us. “Jax! He’s already injured. Why are you interrogating him like this?” I tore open my collar, revealing the gray veins that now covered my chest. “Luna, look at me. At best, I have until midnight.” “And your ‘injured’ team member, Cole, is speaking with a strong voice and clear eyes. You call that infected?” A few of the other team members looked down. One of them, Rico, muttered under his breath, “Actually, Cole could have easily dodged it…” “Rico!” Luna snapped, cutting him off. But it was too late. I understood everything. Cole did it on purpose. And Luna had given the antidote to him. In front of the whole team, she had chosen Cole. Again. “Luna,” I said softly, “for him, you’ve abandoned me. Again.” Her face went pale. “I didn’t abandon you! I just…” I laughed, the sound hollow, the exhaustion in my voice overriding the anger. “You just had to be responsible for every team member? You had to avoid showing favoritism?” “Or is it just that you stopped loving me a long time ago?” Her mouth opened, but no words came out. Cole grabbed her arm, his voice on the verge of tears. “Luna, does the vice-captain not believe me? I really was infected, look…” He made a show of trying to unwrap his bandage. Luna stopped him. “Don’t!” Then she turned to me, her eyes filled with disappointment. “Jax, you’re disappointing me. Cole is part of this team. He was hurt. Is it wrong for me to save him?” “Do I have to let him die just to make you happy?” “You’re right. You did the right thing. A captain should be fair and just.” Luna stared at me, stunned. I watched her shield Cole, saw the triumphant smirk Cole shot me from behind her, and saw the pity and avoidance in the eyes of the others. The power inside me began to surge. But I held on. I spoke again, my voice flat and dead. “So, now that this ‘team member’ is about to turn, how does the captain plan to take responsibility for me?” The silence was deafening. Everyone’s eyes were on Luna. Her face paled and flushed, and finally, she gritted her teeth. “I’ll keep looking. There’s another lab in the North District…” “There’s no time,” I cut her off. She fell silent. Cole spoke up, his voice just loud enough for everyone to hear. “Luna, he’s too dangerous like this. What if he suddenly turns…” Luna’s body went rigid. I looked into her eyes, the eyes that had once been filled with so much love for me, and now saw only conflict and hesitation. The power inside me slammed against its cage. This time, I could barely contain it. 4. “Jax.” Luna finally spoke, her voice strained. She straightened her spine. “You’re the vice-captain. You know the rules.” “An infected person must leave the camp before they turn, or… be dealt with personally by the captain.” Dealt with personally. The words were spoken so lightly, yet they plunged into my heart like four knives. The team members around us grew restless. Some looked away, unable to watch. Some took a silent step back. A few had their hands on their weapons. Cole pressed closer to Luna, whispering, “Luna, you have to think of the whole team… The way he is now, what if he really does turn all of a sudden…” “Shut up,” I snarled at him. Cole flinched and ducked further behind Luna. She took a deep breath. “I’m giving you a choice. One, leave now.” “Two,” her hand moved to the dagger at her hip, “I’ll help you.” Help me die. I looked at the hand gripping the dagger, the same hand that had held mine as we walked through the academy’s tree-lined paths, the hand that had clung to mine on the first night of the apocalypse, refusing to let go. Now, it wanted to end my life. The power inside me churned madly. The gray veins crawled across the left side of my face. I took a deep breath. The pain kept me ruthlessly focused. “I choose one. I’ll leave.” My voice was so calm it surprised even me. Luna visibly relaxed. But Cole spoke up again, louder this time. “Luna, we can’t just let him go! His gear, his supplies—they belong to the team! What if he gets taken by zombies with all that equipment…” Luna frowned. “Cole! That’s enough!” Cole raised his voice. “I’m just speaking the truth!” “He’s not the vice-captain anymore, he’s an infected! Why should team resources be wasted on an infected?” A few of the others exchanged glances. Some nodded, some shook their heads. Just then, a short, piercing scream cut through the night from the camp’s perimeter. Everyone whipped their heads toward the sound in alarm. Luna immediately sent a few members to investigate. Then, she looked at me, her expression a tangle of emotions. She struggled to speak. “Jax, your gear… you have to leave it behind.” I laughed. I laughed until tears pricked my eyes. I nodded. “Fine. It’s all yours.” I started to strip off my gear. The tactical vest, the combat knife, the backpack, the food, the water. With each item, I threw it onto the ground. The clatter of metal was jarring in the silence. Luna turned her head, unable to watch. Cole’s eyes, however, lit up, staring at the pile of equipment like a starving wolf eyeing a piece of meat. When I was done, I was left with nothing but the simple combat fatigues on my back. “Is that enough?” I asked. Luna’s lips trembled. She couldn’t speak. Cole eagerly cut in. “Yes, that’s enough! Luna, hurry, make him leave!” Luna finally looked at me, something flickering in her eyes. “Jax, I’m sorry, but I had to…” “Don’t say it,” I interrupted. “As of today, we’re even.” “Luna, you’d better figure out how to hold this camp together, and protect your people, without me!” Her body jolted. I didn’t look at her, or anyone else, again. I turned and walked towards the camp gate. The gray veins now covered half my face. The power inside was a raging storm, threatening to tear me apart. Every step felt like walking on knives, but I walked straight, and I didn’t look back. Behind me, I heard Cole’s excited voice. “Luna, we can redistribute all this gear…” Followed by Luna’s choked command: “Shut up!” I walked out of the camp and into a section of ruins I had scouted days ago, a place that was relatively safe. The power inside me finally broke free, exploding outward. An agony unlike anything I had ever known shot through every inch of my body, as if my bones were being shattered and reformed. I collapsed to the ground, curling into a ball. The gray patterns writhed beneath my skin, which cracked, bled, scabbed over, and split open again in a horrifying cycle. The roars of zombies grew closer. But I couldn’t move. My consciousness was fading, my body was on fire. Luna, Cole, I thought, I’ll be waiting for the day you come begging. And then, I was consumed by darkness.

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I eloped with my boyfriend of several years, Daniel, keeping the entire affair a secret from my parents. When they eventually found out, their fury was absolute; they disowned me, cutting all ties. Then came the day I gave birth. Daniel was away on a crucial business trip, and his mother, Barbara, flat-out refused to sign the C-section consent form, leaving me alone in the hospital. After I brought our newborn daughter home, Daniel’s family tried to force me out, penniless. Fine. If that’s how they wanted to play, I’d make damned sure they were the ones left with nothing. 1 “The baby’s heartbeat is irregular. We need to perform a C-section immediately.” I lay on the delivery bed, barely registering the doctor’s words over the searing pain. Beside me, Daniel’s mother, Barbara, looked frantic. “No, you can’t cut her open!” she shrieked. “My daughter-in-law still needs to have a second child!” The doctor, a woman with weary eyes, patiently explained, “A C-section won’t prevent her from having more children.” Barbara’s voice instantly rose to an ear-splitting yell. “What if it’s a girl? We still want another one! It’s so much easier to raise two kids close in age, and everyone knows naturally born babies are much smarter than C-section babies!” The doctor’s patience visibly thinned. Her brows furrowed. “Ma’am, if you don’t sign this consent form now, both the mother and the baby will be in danger.” The rhythmic beeping of the monitor grew more frantic, a desperate plea from my child. I struggled to lift my head from the bed, the effort a monumental task. “Doctor, I’ll sign it myself. Do the C-section now.” The doctor extended the form towards me, but before I could reach it, Barbara slapped it right out of my hand. “You can’t cut! I see you’re just being dramatic and afraid of a little pain! Women have been giving birth naturally for centuries, why are you so delicate?” No sooner had the words left her lips than the doctor’s voice boomed, cutting through the tense air. “Ma’am, this isn’t about grandsons or granddaughters right now. If you keep delaying, you might not have any grandchild to hold!” Ever since Barbara had learned that I might be carrying a girl, she hadn’t stopped harping on about having a second child immediately after this one, all under the guise of “raising them together.” In reality, it was her thinly veiled obsession with having a grandson. My heart turned to ice. Clenching my jaw against another wave of pain, I managed to tell the doctor, “I want the C-section. I’m the mother, and I make the decisions for my body and my baby!” The doctor gently pushed Barbara aside, pressing a pen into my hand. “Quickly, we don’t have much time!” Amidst Barbara’s furious shouts, I was wheeled into the operating room. An hour later, my daughter was placed gently in my arms. The nurse took her out to find Barbara, but returned just a few minutes later, her expression apologetic. “Evelyn, your mother-in-law has left the hospital.” I couldn’t believe it. Barbara had actually abandoned me in the hospital right after I gave birth. The nurse asked if I had any other family members to contact. I shook my head weakly. Daniel was on a crucial business trip. Even if something went seriously wrong, he wouldn’t be able to make it back in time. Suddenly, my phone on the bedside table vibrated. Seeing the caller ID, my nose stung, and tears welled up. I pressed the answer button, and my mother, Catherine’s, anxious voice filled the room. “Evelyn, where are you? I heard you were pregnant! When’s the baby due? How could you be so cruel, just cut us off completely, not even a single call?” I sniffled, trying to compose myself, but it was too late. My mother’s voice immediately turned panicked. “Evelyn, are you crying? Tell me, what’s wrong?” When I’d left home, they’d told me I had to live with my choices, and I’d stubbornly vowed to prove I’d found happiness. What did this situation even count as? Suddenly, a video call from Daniel popped up. I quickly hung up on my mother and answered. Daniel’s face on the screen looked displeased. “Evelyn, Mom said you were scared of the pain and insisted on a C-section. Didn’t you always say you wanted to try for a natural birth for our baby?” 2 I couldn’t believe he was saying this. He, who had always indulged and spoiled me, was now speaking to me with such a dismissive tone, right after I’d given birth. I stared at my own pale, fragile face reflected on the phone screen and took a deep, shaky breath. “Daniel, do you actually think your mother was right?” He hesitated at my direct question, then quickly reverted to his usual placating manner. “Evelyn, I’m sorry, my tone was wrong. Of course, Mom wasn’t completely right, but she’s older, she has experience, she just thought she knew what was best for you and the baby.” A bitter laugh bubbled up in my chest. Best for me and the baby? I was about to retort when Daniel cut me off again. “Evelyn, call Mom, apologize, and I’ll ask her to come to the hospital and bring you home.” I snorted. “Daniel, I’ve done nothing wrong, why would I apologize? And if your family doesn’t want this baby, then I’ll take her and leave.” I hung up, the words a raw wound in the air. The surgical incision in my belly throbbed, a sharp, searing pain, and I lay back on the bed, feeling as if every ounce of strength had been drained from me. Looking at my daughter, sleeping peacefully beside me, I made a silent, firm decision. After a few days in the hospital, I took my baby and went home. I pushed open the front door to find several elderly women playing mahjong in the living room. One cackled, “Barbara, you’ve got real nerve! These young ones are so delicate nowadays, you have to put them in their place, or they’ll walk all over you!” Barbara’s shrill, grating voice cut through the air. “Hmph, I just want her to know who runs this house! Pong! Mahjong!” Another old woman pointed at me, standing in the doorway. “Look, your daughter-in-law’s back.” All eyes turned to me. Martha, the nanny I’d hired, followed me in, cradling my daughter. I told her to take the baby straight to the nursery. Barbara stood up, pointing an accusing finger at me. “What’s the meaning of this? I’m still alive and kicking, and you’re already bringing strangers into my house to care for the baby?” A woman beside her chimed in, “Where I’m from, you only hire a nanny if the mother-in-law is dead! Barbara, it sounds like your daughter-in-law is practically wishing you gone!” I walked slowly towards Barbara, my voice clear and steady. “Mother, you said you didn’t want to care for the baby, so I hired someone. Is there something wrong with that?” Barbara’s face reddened, humiliated in front of her friends. She slammed a mahjong tile onto the table. “Is my son’s money just growing on trees? In our day, every mother raised her own children! But you, you’re too precious. If you hadn’t been so afraid of pain, you’d be up and about, working by now!” The other women, eager for more drama, egged her on. “That’s right, young lady, you need to change that attitude. If you’d married into any other family, you wouldn’t have it so good. It’s only because Barbara has such a good temper!” “You should be grateful, dear. You’re married now, stop acting like a princess!” “Exactly. These girls from out of town just don’t know their place.” The old women jabbered on, their words a venomous chorus. Barbara looked at me, her tone dismissive. “You send that nanny away. We don’t need a nanny in this house.” Was she seriously implying that I, a woman recovering from major surgery, should manage postpartum care and childcare all by myself? I glanced at the row of gossiping old women and let out a cold laugh. “Mother, with Martha here, you can finally go back to your hometown and rest for a while.” Just as I finished speaking, the front door burst open, and Daniel’s sister, Sarah, walked in. Barbara, seizing her cue, dramatically collapsed onto the floor, wailing. “Oh, why me? Why do I have such an ungrateful daughter-in-law? She’s barely given birth and she’s already trying to kick me out!” Sarah rushed over to me, her face contorted in displeasure. “Sister-in-law, what is the meaning of this? My mother traveled all this way from her hometown to help you, and this is how you treat her?” What a performance! A classic case of the thief crying thief. I took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. “Mother herself said she didn’t want to take care of the baby, so I suggested she go back to her hometown to rest.” 3 Sarah looked at Barbara, who shook her head vigorously, playing the victim perfectly. “Sister-in-law,” Sarah sneered at me, “when you insisted on marrying my brother, I thought you were a decent, quiet girl. I never expected you’d try to bully my mother like this!” No sooner had she spoken than Barbara on the floor started groaning about her aching back, loudly bemoaning how she had worked herself to the bone only to raise such a “white-eyed wolf” of a daughter-in-law. Sarah immediately pulled out her phone and called Daniel. “Brother, your wonderful wife is trying to kick Mom out of your house! Is this how a wife should act? Or have you married a wife and completely forgotten about your mother?” Coupled with Barbara’s agonizing cries, Daniel’s furious voice roared from the other end of the phone. “I’ll be home tomorrow. I’ll make sure you and Mom get the apology you deserve!” Barbara instantly stopped crying, and Sarah glared at me triumphantly. I couldn’t waste any more breath on their theatrics. I turned to go to the room, intending to take my daughter to the other apartment my grandmother had left me. But Sarah grabbed my arm, yanking me back. I lost my balance and crashed to the floor, a searing pain shooting through my abdomen. Martha, the nanny, came out of the nursery after settling the baby and gasped at the sight. She rushed to help me up. “What happened? You just had a C-section! You need three months to recover! Lying on the cold floor like this, you’ll suffer from postpartum illness!” Barbara, still on the floor but now in a less dramatic pose, mumbled, “So delicate. Who hasn’t given birth? It’s not a big deal.” Martha helped me to my feet. I whispered to her, “Pack our things. We’re leaving.” By the time Martha emerged with my daughter, Daniel’s family and their friends were all comfortably settled on the sofa, watching TV as if nothing had happened. Before I could even reach the door, Sarah lunged forward, trying to snatch the baby from Martha’s arms. “You want to leave? Fine, no one’s stopping you! But the baby stays! This is my brother’s child, you’re not taking her anywhere!” Martha instinctively shielded the baby, looking at me with worried eyes. I glanced at the group of women in the living room. A physical confrontation wouldn’t work. I instructed Martha to take the baby back to the room. “Fine,” I said, my voice steady. “We’ll wait until Daniel gets back tomorrow. We’ll get a divorce, and then we’ll leave.” At my words, Barbara shrieked, pointing an accusing finger at me. “Evelyn! Are you seeing someone else? You must be! Is that why you’re so desperate for a divorce? Maybe the baby isn’t even Daniel’s!” As Barbara finished, the other women in the room cast disgusted glances my way. Her voice grew even louder. “I knew these women from out of town couldn’t be trusted! Who knows what kind of past she has, how many men she’s been with! Oh, my poor son!” Sarah, never one to be outdone, joined her mother, spewing venomous insults at me. I retreated to the bedroom and locked the door. I pulled up the home security camera footage, clipped the last few minutes of their performance, and sent the video to Daniel. I wanted to see how he’d handle this. The next day, Daniel returned, his face a thundercloud. He walked into the bedroom where I was eating. “Evelyn, my love, I promise I’ll have a serious talk with Mom about all this. But you need to cut her some slack too; she’s getting old, after all.” I put down my chopsticks and pointed towards our sleeping daughter. “Daniel, your mother is obsessed with having a son. Now she’s going around telling everyone I’m having an affair. You’ve seen the video yourself.” Daniel’s face flushed with embarrassment. He tried to pull me into a hug. “Honey, I’ll talk to Mom. It’s just that you hiring a nanny made her lose face.” Ignoring the fresh pain in my incision, I glared at him. “Daniel, I never knew you were such a mama’s boy!” Suddenly, Barbara burst into the room and slapped me across the face. “You watch your mouth! Who are you calling a mama’s boy?!” Her speed caught me off guard. I clutched my burning cheek, my teeth clenched. “Daniel, we’re getting a divorce.” He looked at me calmly. “Evelyn, you just gave birth; your hormones are all over the place. I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.”

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1 Ian fastened my seatbelt for me, a gesture so familiar, so natural, it felt like muscle memory. He’d just wrapped up a major merger negotiation, a weariness still etched around his eyes, yet he’d remembered to pick me up from work, even though I was working late. “Evie,” he said, his voice soft, handing me a warm paper bag. “Your favorite roasted chestnuts. Just bought them.” Warmth spread from my fingertips to my heart. I peeled one open, thinking this was just another ordinary moment of happiness. Then, he spoke, his tone unnervingly calm. “Oh, right. That day last week, your birthday. I told you I had a last-minute business dinner, but I actually took the new intern to the hospital.” I turned to look at him. A hint of weariness, almost helplessness, crossed his face. “She… she accidentally got pregnant with my child. She’s so young, she was terrified. I figured you, being the most understanding, would get it, right? When a man’s out and about, these things happen.” … I started to tremble. He reached over, casually adjusting the car’s AC up a degree. “Why aren’t you saying anything?” He paused at a red light, turning to look at me. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. “Evie,” his voice remained oddly flat. “Don’t be like this. The girl is young, just out of college. She’s all alone here, and she was crying her eyes out that day. What was I supposed to do, just ignore her?” The light turned green. He pressed the accelerator. “Just think of it as… me doing a good deed.” I whipped my head around to stare at him. A good deed. “Is that the point? The point isn’t that you cheated and you’re only telling me now?” “Why would I tell you?” He shot me a strange look. “To upset you? What could you change even if you knew? It’s already happened.” He said it with such an air of righteous indignation, as if I were the one being unreasonable. He parked the car, but didn’t immediately unbuckle his seatbelt. Instead, he turned to face me. “Evie,” he said, his gaze steady. “When a man’s out and about, these things happen. I’m practically the last one among my friends to have an affair. I know what I’m doing. Flings are just flings; I always come home. Don’t worry, you’re different from the other women.” He reached out, as if to ruffle my hair, just like he used to. I flinched away. His hand froze in mid-air, and his face visibly darkened. He withdrew his hand, letting out a small, mirthless laugh. “Alright, take your time. Anyway, I’ve broken it off completely with that girl. If you can’t handle this, then in the future, I’ll try my best to keep you from knowing.” He finished, grabbed the bag of chestnuts, unbuckled his seatbelt, and got out of the car. The chestnut in my hand had been crushed, sticking to my palm in a messy pulp. I suddenly remembered that winter in my junior year. I had a terrible cold and a fever. My roommate called him, and he was in class. Half an hour later, he appeared downstairs at my dorm, covered in snow. I bundled up in my down jacket and went down. His hair and shoulders were white with snow, his nose bright red from the cold. “Roasted chestnuts,” he sniffled, smiling. “My Evie eats something sweet, and her sickness will go away faster.” His hands were like ice blocks, but he peeled the chestnuts for me first. I ate and cried simultaneously. He asked why I was crying, promising that one day, when we were rich, he’d buy them for me every single day. Later, we did get rich. He no longer had to brave a snowstorm to cross half the city. “Still not coming up? The chestnuts will get cold and won’t taste good.” My phone buzzed. He had showered and was now in his pajamas, watching financial news on the sofa. The bag of chestnuts sat on the coffee table, open, completely cold. “Wash your hands and come eat.” He didn’t look up. His suit jacket was carelessly tossed over the console in the entryway. A tube of lipstick peeked out of the pocket. Last month, when he’d gone to a nearby town for a project, he’d brought me back specialty pastries. Ian’s voice drifted from the living room. “Evie, what are you doing?” I looked at him. When had he become so rotten? “Alright,” he said, patting my shoulder. “Don’t overthink it. I’ve handled everything cleanly. Go wash your hands; the chestnuts really are cold now.” He turned and walked back to the living room, resuming his news program. A week ago, while he was at the hospital with another woman, I was at home, waiting for him to return so we could eat the birthday cake I’d made. The cake eventually went stale. He’d told me he was in a bad mood because the project hadn’t gone through, and I’d comforted him, saying it was alright. 2 I crouched in the entryway, trying to throw up, but nothing came. Just dry retching, one after another. Ian finally turned off the TV. He walked over and stood in front of me, wearing the matching slippers I’d bought us last year. “Are you being dramatic?” he asked. I looked up, my vision blurred, unable to make out his face. “When did it start?” I asked. “What?” “You and her,” I choked out, my voice raw and desperate, like any woman discovering her partner’s infidelity. “When did you two get together?” He frowned slightly. “Does it matter?” “Yes, it matters.” I used the cabinet to pull myself up, my legs weak. “Tell me, Ian. Just tell me when.” He was silent for a few seconds, then said, “This spring, I guess. The company hired interns, and she was assigned to my department.” Over half a year. “How many?” I asked again. His face darkened. “Evie, what are you trying to say?” “I’m asking you how many others there have been!” I suddenly screamed, my voice echoing in the empty living room. “How many more? Who else? Tell me everything, right now!” He looked at me as if I were insane, then he let out a laugh, full of weary resignation. “Do you have to be like this? I told you, it’s all been handled. She’s been sent away, I gave her money. What more do you want? Do you expect me to spend my entire life only with you?” I stared at him, dumbfounded. “Don’t all men do this?” he continued, his tone suggesting that infidelity was common knowledge everyone should accept. “Business dinners, playing along, it’s all normal. You’re going to be my wife; can’t you be more understanding? Look at Mrs. Kensington, her husband has three mistresses, and she still goes shopping and plays cards like nothing’s wrong.” My ears buzzed. Mrs. Kensington, always smiling at parties, always praising how wonderful her husband was to her. “I’m not like her. We shouldn’t be like that,” I said. “How are we different?” Ian took a step closer, looking down at me. “Evie, I’ve been with you for seven years. Seven years. Have I ever neglected you? The house is in your name, you drive the car, you can spend money however you want. I’ve just had a few affairs; why are you making such a big deal out of it?” He reached out to touch my face. I recoiled, and his hand stopped mid-air. “Fine,” he retracted his hand, nodding. “You think about it.” He turned and went into the bedroom. I stood in the living room, staring at that closed door, suddenly remembering so many years ago. We had just graduated, broke, renting a tiny, rundown studio apartment. The day we moved in, he mysteriously pulled a potted plant from behind his back. “A lemon tree,” he’d said. “When it bears fruit, we’ll have a real home.” He’d knelt on the floor, using a key to engrave our initials into the bottom of the pot. He’d said, “Evie, you’ll be the boss of our home.” That lemon tree eventually did bear fruit. He’d said when it produced a few more, he’d pick them for me to make honey water. Later, we bought this house, and the tree came with us. I walked to the balcony. The lemon tree’s leaves were mostly yellow, some already withered, curling at the edges and falling off. When had it started to wither? I noticed his work tablet on the coffee table. He usually never brought it home. On a sudden impulse, I picked it up and opened it. The screen saver was a girl’s sleeping face. Young, fair-skinned, long eyelashes, hair fanned out on a pillow—it was our bedroom pillow. I checked the timestamp: three months ago, when I was on a business trip to Seattle. The night before I left, he’d held me, saying he’d miss me, asking me to come back soon. The day I left, he drove me to the airport, kissed me at security, and said, “Call me when you land.” When I arrived in Seattle, I called to check in, but he didn’t answer. Later, he texted that he was in a meeting. It turned out that night, he was in our bed, holding another girl. 3 The bedroom door suddenly opened. Ian walked out and saw the tablet in my hand. His face instantly changed. “How many is this one?” I asked. He didn’t speak, heading to the kitchen for water. I followed him. “Ian, say something!” He finished his water, then turned to face me. “Evie, do you have to do this?” “Do what?” My voice trembled. “I’m asking you a question! Are you deaf?” After a long silence, he sighed. “Evie, the young girl was a bit naive. I told you I’d try my best to keep things from you in the future.” I looked at him, at this man I’d loved for seven years, and suddenly he felt like a complete stranger. “You said you’d only ever love me,” I said. “You said when the lemon tree bore fruit, we’d get married. You said…” “Evie, I’m tired,” he cut me off. “If you want to break up, fine. If you want to continue, fine. I don’t care. But remember this: the world is just like this, not as clean as you imagine. Even if you were with someone else, it would be the same.” He let go of me and pulled a keyring from his pocket. “See?” He dangled the keys. “I still keep the most important things. Evie, you’re still different to me.” I stared at that key. The year we graduated, when he couldn’t find a job, he’d gotten drunk, held me, and cried. “Evie, I only have you,” he’d wept like a child. “What would I do without you?” That old brass key belonged to the tiny, run-down studio apartment he’d saved up for ages to rent. When he gave me the key, he’d said, “This will be our foundation.” Different? Different how? Was I just more qualified than the other women to be his respectable cover? I snatched the key and hurled it at him. “Ian, you’re disgusting!” “Are you done with your tantrum?” He took a step forward, glaring down at me. “What do you think you even have left now? You quit your job, you lost your friends, you’ve spent every day revolving around me! Without me, could you even survive?” He pressed me back, my spine hitting the cold entryway wall. “How I live is none of your concern!” “If I don’t care for you, who will?” He raised a hand and gripped my chin, his fingers digging in. “Evie, settle down. Mrs. Chen will still be your title. Keep this up, and you’ll lose everything!” I struggled violently, pushing him away. “I don’t want it!” He probably hadn’t expected me to use such force. He stumbled, instinctively pushing me back. I was standing at the edge of the entryway steps; my foot missed, and I toppled backward. I saw Ian’s horrified face, his hand reaching out but failing to grasp me. Seconds later, excruciating pain exploded in my lower abdomen, as if a hand was violently twisting inside me. I curled into a ball, cold sweat instantly soaking my clothes. Ian rushed over. “Evie?!” “It hurts…” Blood. Warm, thick blood streamed down my legs, staining the pale floor. “I… I’ll call an ambulance!” He fumbled for his phone, fumbling several times before unlocking it. The doctor removed her mask. “Approximately eight weeks pregnant, miscarried. Is the family here?” “How…” Ian stood by the bed, his lips moving. “How did she get pregnant now?” The doctor gave him a look, but said nothing. Ian turned to me, his expression complex, a fleeting moment of panic quickly replaced by irritation. “Evie, I’m upset about the baby too, but it’s done. What more do you want from me?” I lay on the hospital bed, my abdomen still throbbing faintly, my heart utterly numb.

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1 For five years, I had been a war correspondent, tirelessly searching for Charlie’s remains. Now, by sheer accident, I crashed his wedding. My comrades-in-arms, who had once scoured battlefields with me, froze, their faces rigid with shock. “Evie, please don’t be upset. Charlie’s faked death was necessary. Sarah’s identity is too sensitive to leave unprotected.” Behind them stood Sarah, shielded by the men who had once searched with me. She was wanted by the Alliance for leaking secrets—and Charlie’s childhood sweetheart. I wasn’t upset. My voice was calm as I said, “So to protect a traitor, Captain Davies chose to die with her.” In the silence, Charlie finally spoke, his voice raspy. “Sarah’s had it hard. You should understand why I did it.” “Understand?” I repeated, a laugh rising. “That you made me search for five years? That you all acted for me? Or that—” “You’re getting married.” Charlie stiffened. Sarah sobbed. “I’m sorry. I’m leaving in five days. This is my last wish.” I opened my mouth, but no words came. “Enough! You’ve waited five years!” Charlie snapped. “Can’t you wait five more?” I smiled. He was right. Five days was enough time to write a report that would shake the world. … My laughter echoed through the wedding venue, jarringly out of place. Even the music had stopped. Charlie’s brow was deeply furrowed. He walked slowly towards me, lowering his voice. “Don’t look at me like that. I thought about telling you, but you talk to too many people. I was afraid of leaking Sarah’s whereabouts.” I lowered my gaze to the wedding ring on his left ring finger. It was blindingly bright. Too many people. He knew all along. After his “death,” the whispers had never ceased. Everyone said he and Sarah came from old, established families, and their joint “accidental deaths” surely hid a secret. But I refused to believe it. Not just because his squad members had mourned with me, tirelessly sifting through bullet-riddled battlefields for five long years. But because I had witnessed his unwavering impartiality firsthand. To him, the mission was everything. When I had a high fever during my pregnancy, he received a call on the way to the hospital and left. When he returned, the baby was gone due to delayed medical attention. I had cried hysterically, and he had simply frowned, explaining, “Emergency missions can’t wait. As for the baby, we can have another.” When his enemies kidnapped me, he was on the front lines and hung up on the abductors. They tortured me for half a month before tossing my barely alive body by the roadside. When he rushed back from the front, I was just recovering from emergency surgery. He simply held me, promising I would never face such danger again. After his “death,” his enemies and the accusations had descended upon me. So I had applied to be a war correspondent. I searched for his “remains” in conflict zones, and with each report, I defended his honor. Now, he said he was afraid of leaking Sarah’s whereabouts. To protect her, Charlie had abandoned a decade of loyalty, abandoned his principles, and abandoned me. I smiled, a wry, helpless gesture, and slowly shook my head. When I looked up again, I noticed everyone was watching me warily, including Charlie. “Five days,” Charlie took a step closer, his voice so low only I could hear it. “I’ll get Sarah out safely in five days, then I’ll come back. This wedding… it’s just her wish. Don’t take it seriously.” He was too close. I immediately stepped back, instinctively picking up a wine glass from a nearby table. Almost instantly, everyone rushed to shield Sarah. Charlie grabbed my wrist, his grip so tight it hurt. “What are you doing? Calm down! Don’t hurt Sarah!” Sarah started to sob again. “If Evie’s angry, she can just splash me. I was selfish, wanting a wedding with friends before I leave.” Their eyes filled with even more pity for her, and their gazes at me sharpened. “Sarah saved Captain Davies’s life. He’s just repaying a debt.” “It’s just a small wish. Evie, don’t be so pushy.” “Sarah has suffered enough. Just because she accidentally sent a few lines of text, she’s labeled a traitor. But Captain Davies clearly won that battle.” I listened silently. The “few lines of text” they spoke of were the real-time coordinates of my father’s and brother’s unit. My father and brother had died in the ambush caused by that leak. And their “Captain Davies won” was a victory delayed by half a month because of that leak. That was the fifteen days I spent in a dark warehouse, with eight broken ribs and shattered kneecaps. I smiled faintly and drained the red wine in my glass. Those painful memories seemed to slide down my throat with the last drops. As everyone watched, stunned, I set down the empty glass, my voice calm. “I drink this last toast to you all. Farewell.” I turned to leave, but Charlie abruptly seized my wrist. His brows were tightly knitted, his voice forced out through gritted teeth. “You came all this way just to toast us? Was it truly an ‘accident’ you came in?” The moment his words landed, the eyes of everyone in the room pierced me like needles. “Evie… you wouldn’t… wouldn’t expose me, would you?” Sarah’s voice trembled. Almost simultaneously, several figures silently blocked the exits of the banquet hall. Charlie looked at me, took a deep breath, and held out his hand. “Your phone.” I smiled faintly and handed it over. The screen still showed an old photo of us from years ago. His movements stiffened for a moment, then he quickly scrolled through it… finding nothing, of course. I tried to leave again. But someone whispered, their voice laced with suppressed resentment, “Wasn’t Evie the one who reported Sarah for leaking information?” “Sarah saved Captain Davies’s life. Shouldn’t we be more careful with Evie?” “We can’t let Evie’s jealousy ruin Captain Davies’s five-year plan!” “Sarah has suffered so much because of Evie, hiding for all these years.” Listening to their words, I suddenly burst out laughing. I finally understood another reason Charlie had kept it from me, beyond just protecting Sarah. He also hated me. Hated me for reporting Sarah, even though every word of that report was a bloody, undeniable truth. And I, too, hated. For five years, I had hated Sarah. Now, there was one more. “Still not convinced?” I looked at Charlie, and under everyone’s watchful eyes, I emptied all my pockets. Then, I unzipped my jacket and tossed it onto the floor. Beneath, I wore only a black camisole. I raised my hand, my fingertips touching the strap— “Enough!” Charlie abruptly turned his face away, his voice hoarse. “Just go.” This time, no one stopped me. I picked up my jacket and walked out without looking back. Back home, I accessed my other phone, the screen now displaying a photo of my father and brother. This was a completely different system. In my five years as a war correspondent, I was no longer the helpless victim I had been when kidnapped. No, my presence at that wedding tonight was no accident. Three days ago, I had received a text message—a wedding invitation. The sender was Sarah, who had supposedly “died” five years ago. My heart had constricted the moment I saw the wedding venue. But there was no time for pain; other things surged forth. The graves of my father and brother, the searing pain of my shattered kneecaps, and the kidnapper’s mocking words: “Looks like Charlie doesn’t care about you that much, does he?” I dragged the photos and audio clips from tonight onto my computer, one by one. A report capable of igniting global outrage slowly took shape. Until the sound of the door lock turning. I quickly closed my laptop. Charlie pushed the door open, reeking of alcohol. “You still resent me, don’t you?” He stumbled towards me, reaching out to touch my face, but I turned away, avoiding his hand. He collapsed onto the rug at my feet, looking up at me, his eyes red. “Don’t resent me. Sarah saved my life. On the training ground, someone’s gun misfired, and she pushed me away. I couldn’t not repay that debt.” I listened in silence, suddenly remembering many years ago. I had secretly gone to see my brother. Charlie and my brother were so similar in build that in a moment of crisis, I had instinctively lunged towards him. It seemed I wasn’t the only one who had mistaken him for someone else. The bullet scar on my chest throbbed faintly. “You’re the only one in my heart,” he grabbed my wrist. “She’ll be gone soon. We can go back to how things were…” “Charlie,” I cut him off, handing him the documents I had already prepared. “Sign this.” “What is it? What do you want to buy? Sign… I’ll sign anything.” He mumbled, barely looking, and scrawled his name. After signing, he seemed to run out of strength, falling into a deep sleep. I pulled out the divorce papers and walked out. 2 After handing the divorce papers to my lawyer, I went to the cemetery. Not long after I left the gravesite, an SUV suddenly screeched to a halt in front of me, and I was pulled inside. Charlie was beside me. The smell of alcohol was gone, replaced by a terrifying, grim expression. “I really did trust you too much. You hate Sarah that much? Enough to have her kidnapped?!” I froze. He gripped my arm, his teeth clenched. “Don’t pretend! The moment I woke up, you were gone! Even if you didn’t arrange the kidnapping, you must have leaked her whereabouts!” The other men in the car spoke with complex tones. “Sarah’s been living under the radar all these years. Aside from us, no one knows where she is.” “You were the only one at the wedding last night, and this morning she was in trouble.” My chest felt like it had been ripped open, cold wind howling through the void. All these years, I had dodged fire with them, scoured fields of corpses with them, and yet, I was still not trusted. The car sped relentlessly towards a deserted factory. I was shoved inside. Sarah was tied up, her face streaked with tears and dust. The kidnappers saw Charlie and scoffed. “You came fast. Looks like this woman really is your precious darling.” “Last time, we got the wrong person. You didn’t show up for half a month of torment. This time, you’re here in less than half an hour.” Charlie’s body stiffened. He forced himself to yell at the kidnappers, his voice rough. “You’ve got the wrong person! This is my wife! That one is irrelevant! Let her go!” I turned to look at him, disbelief washing over me. The kidnappers were also stunned. “You think I’m stupid…” “Look closely!” Charlie sharply interrupted, roughly grabbing my left hand and holding it up. At the same time, I saw the plain band on his hand. It was a perfect match for the ring I’d worn for years, now almost embedded in my skin. He was wearing it again. To exchange me for Sarah? “This is a wedding ring!” Charlie shouted. “I’m exchanging my wife for her!” The kidnappers exchanged glances, seemingly hesitant. But I spoke, each word distinct: “I. will. not. be. exchanged.” “It’s not up to you!” Charlie suddenly grabbed my finger, pulling forcefully at the ring! The ring was deeply embedded in my flesh. The friction caused a tearing pain. The bones in my finger made a sickening “click.” Blood instantly gushed from my finger. He threw the blood-stained ring at the kidnappers. “Check it! Release her!” The kidnappers picked up the ring, examined it, then suspiciously scrutinized both me and Sarah. Sarah cried out, “Brother Kidnapper! Don’t hurt Evie! I’ll go in her place! I’d be happy to do something for Charlie and Evie!” Hearing this, Charlie’s eyes grew even more anxious and pained. He looked at me, almost gritting his teeth. “Evie! They were coming for you anyway! Sarah is innocent!” Coming for me? I suddenly wanted to laugh out loud. So in his mind, I deserved to be kidnapped, deserved to be tortured, while Sarah was always, perpetually innocent. But before I could speak, a sharp pain shot through the back of my neck, and the world plunged into darkness.

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My Uncle Randall had no children of his own, and his will had long stipulated that I would inherit his millions. But after Uncle Randall’s funeral, when I returned to his villa, a stranger burst in, claiming to be Uncle Randall’s rightful heir, demanding I leave. “All of Mr. Randall Bennett’s property is mine. Please leave immediately!” I didn’t believe him for a second, thinking he was delusional, but then he produced a will. I stared at two identical documents and immediately called my lawyer, Mr. Davison. After a thorough comparison, Mr. Davison looked at me, shaking his head with regret. “Mr. Ryan, your will is no longer valid.” My mind exploded. Before I could fully process it, Liam Stone had already settled onto the sofa, expertly locating the cigar Uncle Randall kept hidden beneath the cushions. With practiced ease, he lit it. I fixed my gaze on the man’s unfamiliar yet eerily familiar profile, wreathed in smoke, and asked, my voice laced with disbelief, “Who exactly are you?” 1 Ever since my Uncle Randall was diagnosed with lung cancer, doctors strictly forbade him from smoking, and all the cigars in the house had been confiscated. This hiding spot was known only to Uncle Randall and me. How could this guy know about it? The man opposite me showed no emotion, simply pointing to the name on the will. “Can’t you read? My name is Liam Stone, and I am the legal heir to Mr. Randall Bennett’s estate. Now, may I ask you to leave?” “Impossible!” My voice cracked. “This will of yours must be a forgery. I demand the lawyer authenticate it!” Mr. Davison checked again, his expression solemn, and nodded. “This will is authentic and valid. Mr. Liam Stone is indeed the legal heir.” My face froze, and I shook my head in disbelief. “How can this be real? I’m Uncle Randall’s closest relative. How could he give his inheritance to a stranger like you?” Liam Stone looked at me, a playful smile on his face. “Well, you’ll have to ask your Uncle Randall why he gave his millions to me, a stranger, instead of to you, his nephew whom he raised like his own son.” I stiffened abruptly, clutching the will tightly. Cold sweat dripped onto it, blurring the name “Ryan Bennett,” the original heir. My Uncle Randall had never married, treating me, his nephew who lost both parents in childhood, as his own. I grew up by Uncle Randall’s side. He sent me to the most exclusive schools, provided me with the most privileged life. Before I even graduated from college, he brought me into the company to learn the business, teaching me everything he knew about managing it. He defied my Great-Uncle Robert’s vehement objections, leaving all his property to me, his nephew, not a penny to his own brother’s son. Because of this, Uncle Randall and Great-Uncle Robert had fallen out. My Uncle Randall loved me so deeply; there was no way he would give his inheritance to someone I’d never met. Something was definitely wrong here. I slowly calmed down and looked at the lawyer. “I request the video of the will signing.” For a will to be notarized, at least two notaries, a lawyer, a financial advisor, and a doctor are required to be present. This ensures the testator was of sound mind, acted voluntarily, and that the will’s contents truly reflected their wishes. My Uncle Randall must have been coerced. I stared at Liam Stone, trying to find a trace of panic on his face. But he remained composed and produced the will’s video. I watched the video without blinking, from beginning to end. My Uncle Randall was clearly lucid. He even pressed so hard when writing his name that he tore the paper. My head spun. How could this be? There had to be a trick, definitely a trick! I suddenly grabbed Mr. Davison’s collar, glaring at him fiercely. “You tampered with the video, didn’t you? Your name is Davison, and his is Stone? Are you two in cahoots, conspiring to steal my Uncle Randall’s inheritance?” Mr. Davison’s expression changed, but he still spoke politely. “Mr. Ryan, I understand your feelings, but this was Mr. Randall Bennett’s own decision. If you have any doubts, I suggest you report it to the police or pursue legal action. Physical force won’t solve anything.” I released him and immediately called the police. When the officers arrived, they examined the video, confirming it was the original, with no cuts or AI manipulation. Furthermore, their investigation showed that Mr. Davison and Liam Stone had no family connection. They had never even met before today. I was utterly bewildered. What had gone wrong? My Uncle Randall had made a will just a month before his death, so how could he suddenly change his mind? The officer looked at my unwilling face, saying in a half-educating, half-mocking tone, “Young man, look for reasons within yourself. You must have been unfilial. Even if it were your own father, if he wasn’t satisfied with you, it’s his right to give his inheritance to whomever he chooses.” A rift suddenly tore open in my mind. Father? I turned sharply to Liam Stone, a terrifying idea blooming wildly in my head. 2 I was forcibly evicted from the villa I had lived in for over two decades. Before I left, when no one was looking, I snatched the leftover cigar Liam Stone had been smoking. Outside, I immediately rushed to the hospital, taking Uncle Randall’s stored blood sample to a DNA testing center. The wait for the results was excruciating. Uncle Randall had always led a clean life. Despite his vast wealth, he never indulged in lavish excesses. Apart from necessary business engagements, his life was more ascetic than a monk’s. I racked my brain, but I couldn’t fathom him having a secret child. But if not, how else could I explain him changing his will to favor Liam Stone? After a long wait, the results finally came. The moment I saw them, my entire body froze. The words “Exclusion of biological parent-child relationship” pierced my heart like sharp daggers. My Uncle Randall had truly given his life’s hard-earned millions to a complete stranger with no blood ties? I couldn’t understand it. I truly couldn’t. Did Liam Stone have something on him? But the police investigation had said Liam Stone was just an ordinary employee at a mediocre company. What leverage could he possibly have over my Uncle Randall? Unless, they had that kind of relationship? Considering my uncle’s disinterest in women, it didn’t seem entirely impossible. I almost collapsed from the thought. My mind was a chaotic mess. Was I just going to watch the millions, which were almost within my grasp, pass to someone else? Allow my Uncle Randall’s life’s work to be unjustly taken by another? After a long stunned silence, I picked up the phone and called a private investigator I knew. “I need you to investigate a man named Liam Stone. Go back three generations, from birth to now. Everyone he’s met, his bank statements, every single detail. As comprehensive as possible, and as fast as possible.” I hung up and checked into a five-star hotel. As I swiped my card, the “card frozen” notification echoed jarringly in the empty lobby. It hit me then. My cards were all supplementary cards linked to Uncle Randall’s account. Now that the property was Liam Stone’s, he would surely have stopped my cards immediately. I had no choice but to return to the small, old apartment my grandmother had left for my mother. My wallet held only a few remaining bills. Not only could they not cover next semester’s tuition, but they couldn’t even guarantee my immediate sustenance. I sat in the meticulously clean apartment, a wave of sadness washing over me. Uncle Randall and my mother were twins. When I was two, a car accident tragically took both my parents’ lives. They had been very close siblings. Uncle Randall could never bring himself to sell this apartment and often came to clean it himself. He said it held my mother’s presence. He even remained unmarried to care for me, raising me like both a father and a mother. He was so good to me, so why would he give his inheritance to someone else? I couldn’t let it go. I watched the will video again and again, feeling as if something was missing. My hand paused, and my pupils suddenly constricted. I knew! My Great-Uncle George, the witness, was missing from the video! Great-Uncle George was the most respected elder on my mother’s side. At the time, Uncle Randall had explicitly stated that only Great-Uncle George’s presence and witness would make it valid. I quickly found the video of Uncle Randall’s first will, the one that left everything to me. Great-Uncle George was clearly in it. I jumped up, thrilled, eager to expose Liam Stone’s true identity. I quickly returned to the villa. After forcing the gate open, I started to stride in, but Jenkins, the butler, blocked my way. “Young Master Ryan, this is no longer your home. If you cause any more trouble, I’ll call the police.” Seeing Jenkins, who usually greeted me warmly, now so cold, my heart sank. I explained, “I need to see Liam Stone about something. Let me in.” “Our master has already gone to bed. If it’s important, come back tomorrow.” I checked the time. It was only a little past eight in the evening. Young people’s nightlife hadn’t even started, and he was already asleep? He had the same senior citizen’s routine as my Uncle Randall. I waited by the gate all night. The next morning, around seven, Liam Stone drove out of the villa in Uncle Randall’s Maybach. I stopped him. “Liam Stone, I can prove you’re not the rightful heir. You need to come with me to see my Great-Uncle George right now!” Liam Stone looked at me with a half-smile and surprisingly agreed. “Alright, I’d like to see what proof you have that I’m not the rightful heir.” 3 When we arrived at Great-Uncle George’s house, I anxiously asked, “Great-Uncle, do you know my Uncle Randall gave his inheritance to this man? Your presence isn’t in the video of him making this will. Tell me, it’s forged, isn’t it? He forced my Uncle Randall to do this, right?” Great-Uncle George looked at me, surprised. “Of course, I know. Your Uncle Randall told me. I was supposed to be there to witness, but I had a car accident on the way. My leg is broken. But I recorded a video testimony before my surgery. Didn’t they show you?” Only then did I notice the bandage wrapped around Great-Uncle George’s leg. Great-Uncle George found the video and showed it to me. It was brief but clearly stated the authenticity of the revised will. I was completely dumbfounded. My gaze darted back and forth between Great-Uncle George and Liam Stone. Could Great-Uncle George have been bribed by Liam Stone? I blurted out almost without thinking, “Great-Uncle, did he pay you off? How much did he give you? How can you do this to my Uncle Randall? How can you face my deceased parents?” Great-Uncle George’s face darkened, and his tone lost its gentle warmth. “Ryan, what nonsense are you spouting? Liam and I met for the first time today! I’m an old man, what would I do with all that money? This was all your Uncle Randall’s own wish!” “No! My Uncle Randall wouldn’t abandon me!” I turned and grabbed Liam Stone’s collar, glaring at him fiercely. “Who exactly are you? Why would my Uncle Randall willingly give you his inheritance? Tell me, what did you use to threaten a dead man, forcing him to leave his estate to you?” Liam Stone’s usually calm face finally showed a crack. “Enough!” He forcefully pried my hands away. “If it weren’t for the fact that you’re Randall Bennett’s nephew, I would have called the police on you for harassment and stalking. If you don’t stop, I won’t be so polite!” Great-Uncle George also tried to reason with me. “Ryan, Great-Uncle knows it’s hard for you to accept this. Your Uncle Randall must have had his reasons. You’re still young, your future achievements might not be any less than your Uncle Randall’s. Why carry on like this?” “Why carry on like this?” I looked at him incredulously. “It’s not a hundred thousand or a million, it’s millions! It’s my Uncle Randall’s life’s work! Didn’t you ever wonder why he suddenly changed his mind right before he died? What leverage does Liam Stone have over all of you?” Great-Uncle George’s face completely hardened. “Wonder what? Ryan, your Uncle Randall has passed away. I hope you respect the deceased’s wishes!” Liam Stone scoffed. “All you’re trying to say is that your uncle and I had some unspeakable relationship, aren’t you? Ryan Bennett, he was your own uncle. How can you slander him like that?” My face flushed instantly, a feeling of being exposed and humiliated washing over me. The surrounding servants and the family doctor looked at me with thinly veiled contempt. “All talk, but he’s just bitter he got cut out. He’s so desperate for money he’s slandering his own uncle as a pervert, how shameless!” “I’d say his Uncle Randall must have seen what a ingrate he was, that’s why he didn’t give him the property. Doesn’t he have any self-awareness?” “Mr. Bennett raised him for twenty years, like his own father, and now that he’s dead, he’s slandering him. What a disappointment to Mr. Bennett.” “Pah! Greedy, disloyal, despicable brat, get out, don’t contaminate our home!” A servant with a broom began to sweep aggressively at my feet, pushing me towards the door. An overwhelming wave of injustice and humiliation surged through me. My eyes red, I scanned the room and choked out, “I’m not doing this for the inheritance! I just want to understand why my Uncle Randall did this! Was he in some kind of trouble? Was it my fault? Were these twenty years of father-son affection all a lie?” “Even if the final truth is that it was my uncle’s own wish, I will accept it wholeheartedly. I just don’t want to live in such confusion, feeling helpless!” Tears streamed down my face. Great-Uncle George limped over to me, sighing helplessly. “Ryan, don’t overthink it. If your Uncle Randall didn’t love you, why would he have set up a large trust fund for you?” 4 I froze, remembering Uncle Randall’s words to me on his deathbed. “Ryan, Uncle set up a huge trust fund for you. Don’t touch it unless absolutely necessary. The password, only the heir knows…” At the time, I was too distraught to truly grasp the meaning of his words. I had only thought Uncle Randall was leaving me a safety net in case my company operations failed. Now, thinking back, Uncle Randall had made preparations. My gaze sharpened, piercing Liam Stone, and my voice held a desperate resolve. “Liam Stone, one last time, come with me to the bank. Prove to me that you are truly the heir!” He gazed at me with a complex expression for a long moment, then let out a soft huff. “Alright, I’ll go with you. But, if it’s confirmed that I am the legal heir, then you, Ryan Bennett, from this day forward, are forbidden from appearing before me again!” I nodded without hesitation. “Agreed!” We arrived at the bank and met with the trust department manager. The manager carefully took out a safe deposit box, explaining, “This box contains the trust fund documents Mr. Randall Bennett purchased for Mr. Ryan Bennett, as well as a trust fund card. The withdrawal PIN and the safe deposit box password are known only to the heir.” He politely gestured to Liam Stone. “Please, Mr. Stone.” Liam Stone walked to the safe deposit box, turned his head to glance left, then right, ensuring no one was behind him. He extended his left hand, curled his pinky finger, and pressed his index finger on the number pad. The lock emitted a series of beeps, and everyone’s heart tightened with the increasingly rapid sounds. My palms were soaked with sweat, and my heart felt like it was going to leap out of my chest. I silently chanted, Incorrect password, incorrect password. I couldn’t be wrong. Uncle Randall must have had an untold difficulty. This Liam Stone must be a fake heir. Uncle Randall loved me. Soon, the truth would be revealed. The impostor would be caught. Uncle Randall, your life’s work, I can help you protect it… As the last digit was pressed, the air seemed to solidify. Everyone held their breath, afraid to miss the most crucial part. Beep. The safe deposit box door clicked open. My entire body’s blood instantly congealed, and my ears buzzed. Around me, flattering whispers like, “Mr. Stone is indeed the heir,” and “Mr. Stone, please remember us,” drifted intermittently into my ears. And I, like a joke, was being pointed at and mocked. “Gone mad with greed, the law has already certified Mr. Stone as the legal heir, but he refuses to believe it. Now he’s been thoroughly humiliated, hasn’t he?” “He must have done something wicked. His parents were taken by fate, his own uncle disowned him, it’s karma!” “He just doesn’t have the fortune. Why is he fighting? Accept your fate!” I stood rooted to the spot, trembling uncontrollably. Why was this happening? How could this be? Great-Uncle George testifying for a man he’d never met, Uncle Randall signing with such determination, entrusting the most secret password to him. All the evidence pointed to Liam Stone being the legal heir. Who was Liam Stone? No! Something was definitely missing. My mind was a chaotic jumble. Just then, the private investigator sent Liam Stone’s background report. I clicked it open, then abruptly looked up, my gaze fixed on Liam Stone. “Liam Stone, I know who you are!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391066”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 Visiting a home to buy back pre-owned designer bags, I unexpectedly ran into my ex-husband’s current wife. Who was also my older sister, Sienna Hayes. Calmly, I put on my gloves, inspected the bags for wear and tear, then looked up and politely asked her, “Are all these bags for sale?” Seeing me, she froze. Tears immediately welled in her eyes. “Eliza, are you doing so badly? Why are you doing this?” “Are you… still mad at me?” When she started to cry, I knew, without a doubt, that Adam Breaux was already standing behind me. It had always been this way. Wherever Adam Breaux was, she would innocently shed tears. Then, with a few well-placed words, she would twist the situation, making me the aggressor. Her methods were as clumsy as ever. Yet, they consistently managed to blind Adam Breaux. Now, I turned back with an indifferent expression. My eyes met Adam Breaux’s. I was the first to nod. “Hello, Adam.” Once, he was the man who governed my every breath, who caused me unbearable pain. Now, meeting again, I felt no ripples. … A look of intense astonishment flashed in Adam Breaux’s eyes. “Eliza…” “Where have you been all these years?” “Do you know how long I’ve been looking for you?” I offered a dismissive half-smile. “What right do you have to look for me?” His gaze darkened. “Eliza Bennett, what do you mean I have no right? Our sixteen years of shared history…” I found it amusing. “What history?” “As your ex-wife? Or your sister-in-law?” His body stiffened. I had no desire to reminisce with him. I turned back. The high-quality bags felt warm in my hands. Many of these bags, during my marriage to Adam Breaux, he had secretly bought for Sienna Hayes behind my back. I still vividly remembered the first time I stumbled upon her and Adam Breaux’s apartment. In the apartment’s living room, an exquisite display cabinet showcased designer bags. It perfectly recreated the dream she often spoke of in her youth: “My future husband will definitely be rich. He’ll make me an entire wall just for my bags!” That time, my “catching them in the act” didn’t faze Sienna Hayes at all. Instead, she gave me a provocative smile. “Pretty, aren’t they?” “Adam bought every single one of these bags for me himself, from abroad.” “Poor Eliza. The moment I bat my eyelashes and shed a tear, your husband can’t help but feel sorry for me.” “Do you really think there’s still a place for you in his heart?” Five years passed. Sienna Hayes had become Adam Breaux’s legitimate wife. That wall of bags had moved from the clandestine mistress’s apartment to their openly shared home. I quietly looked at these bags that had once driven me to madness. No emotion stirred within me. I calmly pulled out my phone to calculate the price. “For these bags, the second-hand resale price is a total of ten thousand three hundred dollars.” “If you’re planning to sell, my prices here are very competitive.” Adam Breaux looked at my tools, his shock even greater. “Eliza, you don’t play the piano anymore?” I sighed. My time was valuable. “If you’re not selling, I’ll be leaving now.” I wanted to leave their house as quickly as possible, but suddenly, he grabbed my hand. “Don’t be like that, I’m just worried about you…” When he touched my two deformed fingers, Adam Breaux’s pupils constricted. “Your hand, how could it be…” This pair of piano hands, which had once won countless trophies, was long ruined. It happened during the 36 hours when he locked me in the villa to be with Sienna Hayes, who was awaiting childbirth. I missed the optimal window for treatment. “Indeed.” “I haven’t played the piano in a long time.” “After all, I had three bone-setting surgeries and two years of physical therapy.” Being able to grasp and lift objects normally was a blessing. I said goodbye, distantly yet politely. As I stepped outside the apartment, those two people came chasing after me again. Adam Breaux anxiously blocked my path. “Where are you going? I’ll drive you.” Sienna Hayes’s face had already turned ashen. Yet, she still managed a strained, pitying smile. “Let Adam drive you. “Eliza, I was going to donate these bags to charity… but I can’t bear to see you struggling so much, so I’ll give them to you. Consider it a boost for your business.” I smiled. “You don’t need to give me bags. Adam doesn’t need to drive me either.” “After all, we’re not that close.” “And I certainly don’t want to be involved with a married woman in any way.” Back at the shop, the two young female assistants were scrolling through social media. “Mr. Breaux and Miss Hayes are trending again, they’re such an attractive couple.” “Mr. Breaux is a model husband. I heard that because his wife was once bullied by her own sister, he specifically established a foundation to protect against domestic bullying!” “This time, Mr. Breaux’s beloved is even planning to donate half of her designer bags, calling for more attention to domestic violence incidents.” “They’re such a perfect match, a beautiful and kind-hearted couple!” I chuckled. So, they were now seen as a philanthropic couple, actively involved in domestic violence cases. All these years later. He still believed Sienna Hayes was the one being bullied. Adam Breaux was the man I chose for myself. I was once utterly convinced we would spend our lives together. But in the year I loved him most, he ended up in the same bed as the person I hated most in this life. When I arrived at the scene, the messy, intimate room, and two naked, entangled bodies made my stomach churn. When I clearly saw the woman’s face, which bore an eight-point resemblance to my own, my world went silent. It was my older sister. Sienna Hayes. Adam Breaux was my neighbor. He witnessed my long childhood, marked by abuse from Sienna and my stepmother. On many nights, I was driven out of the house because of Sienna Hayes’s false accusations. It was Adam Breaux who wrapped a thick coat around me. The time Sienna Hayes’s pen pierced my eardrum, it was Adam Breaux who kicked open my door first, scooped me up, and rushed me to the hospital. “Eliza, hold on!!” “Eliza, don’t be afraid. I’m here. Sienna Hayes can’t hurt you.” He knew perfectly well how much I hated Sienna Hayes, and now… I lost control, rushing forward and slapping Sienna Hayes twice. “Sienna Hayes!!” “You’ve never wished me well, since we were children. Now you’ve even climbed into my husband’s bed! Why are you always haunting me??” The third slap didn’t land. My hand was seized by a crimson-eyed Adam Breaux. He urgently embraced me, his voice trembling. “Eliza, I’m so sorry, I was drugged… I mistook her for you.” “It’s all my fault, all my fault…” Sienna Hayes shivered, wrapping herself up, her eyes misty with tears. “Eliza, you’ve misunderstood me again… How could I do anything to betray you…” Looking at her habitual expression of feigned helplessness, my vision swam. … Before I could react to the absurdity of it all, I fainted. For a long time after I woke up, Adam Breaux begged for my forgiveness every day. He repeatedly presented me with evidence that he had been set up. “Eliza, no matter how much of a scoundrel I am, I would never be with Sienna Hayes. Please believe me, okay?” I tried to convince myself it was an accident. To let it go. But just as our rift was beginning to heal with time, Sienna Hayes updated her social media. It was a blurry photo, her nestled in a man’s arms at dusk. Caption: “Thank you for spending New Year’s Eve with me.” The man’s cufflink gleamed under the light. It was the ten-year anniversary gift I had given Adam Breaux. My blood rushed to my head in an instant. This was the fifth day of Adam Breaux’s supposed business trip. He had only left me a hasty message: “Eliza, decided last minute to stay an extra day. Don’t wait for me for dinner.” He went to be with Sienna Hayes. They had never broken contact. This fact hit me like a sledgehammer, knocking me senseless. By the time I arrived in the city, it was almost midnight. I staggered towards the Great Harbor Bridge. Fireworks instantly burst into the sky. The next second, in the flickering light, the scene of the two of them watching fireworks together, nestled close, unexpectedly crashed into my vision— “Do you think it’ll be a boy or a girl?” Sienna Hayes looked at Adam Breaux, her eyes crinkling in a smile. “Will this be its first New Year’s Eve?” I felt a momentary ringing in my ears. What boy or girl? Who was ‘it’? My body reacted faster than my brain. I rushed forward and slapped Adam Breaux hard, then grabbed Sienna Hayes’s hair. “You bitch! You still claim to be innocent?!” In that chaotic moment, Adam Breaux quickly shielded Sienna Hayes in his arms. He gripped my wrist, his brow furrowed, his eyes dark and heavy. His grip was so strong it felt like my bones would shatter. “What are you doing!? Sienna is pregnant!! What’s wrong with you?” I looked at him in disbelief, tears streaming down my face. “Her pregnancy, what does it have to do with you?” “Adam Breaux, who is your wife?!” Only then did he release me, as if waking from a dream. But from beginning to end, he held Sienna Hayes tightly in his arms. “Eliza, don’t be impulsive! Listen to me.” “Sienna is pregnant because of that accident… she’s carrying my child.” “The doctor said her constitution is special, if she doesn’t carry this child to term, she might never be able to get pregnant again! She was frantic, didn’t know what to do, that’s why she came to me.” “I didn’t tell you because I was afraid you’d overthink it…” Sienna Hayes’s face was streaked with two lines of tears, all too familiar to me. “Eliza, Mom and Dad want me to get rid of my baby.” “Please, please let me stay, let me have my baby, okay?” “I won’t disturb you two, I just want my own child…” My head buzzed. All my sharp edges were roused in that instant. “Sienna Hayes, you’re lying again!! What do you mean you won’t be able to get pregnant if you abort the baby? Do you think anyone believes you? Do you dare to go to the hospital with me for an examination?” Her eyes were misty with tears. “Eliza, why do you always have to be so extreme? Sister doesn’t want to ruin your happiness! Sister just wants to have her own child.” Adam Breaux’s face, meanwhile, hardened inch by inch. “Eliza, do you really have to speak of your own sister like that?” “Your sister is also a victim. I’m the one who wronged her. Do you have to be so aggressive?” “How can you be so cold-blooded?” The Adam Breaux of ten years ago and the man before me now, split and overlapped in my vision. The boy who would share his earphones with me on winter nights. Now looked at me with an indifference I had never seen before. I remembered that New Year, when I was seventeen. My piano teacher, who was in charge of my intensive training, gave me a day off. I took a four-hour bus ride, holding a cake box I had ordered with three months of pocket money, and stood at my front door. The fingerprint lock beeped an error. Once, twice, thrice. I called my father. In the background, the cold female voice of an airport announcement mixed with Sienna Hayes’s clear laughter. “Dad! Look! Snow-capped mountains!” My father’s voice was distant and impatient. “Why aren’t you practicing piano at school? What are you doing home? We’re with Sienna, skiing in Switzerland. You should go back.” The busy signal as he hung up pierced my eardrum like a needle. I didn’t know when the sky had completely darkened. I only remembered my fingers freezing numb, and the ribbon on the cake box flapping loudly in the wind. Then, a beam of headlights cut through the darkness. Adam Breaux jumped out of the car, his breath condensing into white mist in the cold air. He saw the melted cake at my feet, and his movements paused. Then he grabbed my frozen hands, and without a word, tucked them inside his sweater, pressing them against his warm chest. “Are you foolish?” “Couldn’t you call me?” My lips trembled, unable to make a sound. He took off his left earbud and gently placed it in my ear. “Eliza Bennett, look up.” I raised my tear-filled eyes. Firelight danced in his pupils, his face impossibly handsome in the interplay of light and shadow. “Don’t cry.” “Happy New Year.” “Trust me.” “I’ll definitely get you out of here. To a place without biased parents, without Sienna Hayes, without nightmares.” “Every year, I’ll be the first to wish you a Happy New Year.” At that moment, for the first time in my seventeen years of bleak existence, I saw light. The earphone hummed with a faint current, the song flowing like warm water into my frozen veins. “If the whole world speaks ill of you, I will whisper words of love for an eternity.” The moment the lyrics played, my tears fell onto his hand. The flutter in my heart then was beyond words. But ten years later, at the very first moment of the New Year, he held Sienna Hayes close. And called me a cold-blooded animal. After that day, I accepted an invitation for a concert tour abroad. I packed my bags overnight and left the country. For three months, I didn’t answer any of his calls. I didn’t know how to face his change. “Eliza, where are you? Don’t scare me.” “I was wrong. I shouldn’t have left you without a word.” “Eliza Bennett, I was ready to love you for a lifetime when I was sixteen. But I’m not a saint. I’m bound to make mistakes.” “Are you really going to completely shut down our future?” And his friends’ pleas also urged me: “Adam did make a mistake, but in his situation, let alone mistaking someone for you, even if he had genuinely slept with a stranger, wouldn’t it be understandable?” “Eliza, don’t be so stubborn. Adam protected you for so many years, with all his heart. Are you going to condemn him to death for one mistake?” “Isn’t Adam’s kindness also for your sake?” “If your sister really can’t get pregnant later, and you make her abort this child, what if she holds a grudge against you?” Gradually, I began to wonder if I was the one who was wrong. Perhaps I truly was too extreme. And I had to admit, I was too accustomed to Adam Breaux’s presence. I missed our old conversations, and even more, I missed… him. I composed myself and flew back home. During the seventeen-hour flight, I practiced smiling into the cabin window. Hoping to reconcile as soon as I saw Adam Breaux. But when I returned home, unexpectedly, no one was there. I turned to get the spare key from my car, and pulled open the door. The sweet scent of camellias, Sienna Hayes’s usual perfume, wafted out. On the passenger seat, my gray wool seat cover was gone. In its place was a thick, antique red lumbar support cushion, its edges embroidered with delicate patterns. The side storage pocket was filled with pregnant-woman-specific snacks: Japanese dried plums, organic nuts, sugar-free yogurt sticks… What did this mean? They… were living together? Anger once again consumed me. I sought them everywhere, finally finding the two of them in the hospital. But I saw Adam Breaux, with one leg injured, pale and leaning against the headboard. And Sienna Hayes, showing early signs of pregnancy, busily wiping his sweat. My heart suddenly leaped into my throat. “Adam, what happened to you?” Sienna Hayes, after a momentary stiffness, quickly adopted her most practiced pitiful expression. “Eliza…” she stood up, instinctively shielding her stomach. “You’re finally back…” “After you ran away, Adam was distracted every day. Last month, he was hit by a car.” “Eliza, Adam’s eyes and heart are full of you. All the mistakes… are my fault, please don’t blame him anymore.” Adam Breaux looked at me, his eyes red-rimmed, saying nothing. Seeing his disappointed gaze and his high-slung leg, I compromised. Paying the price for my reckless departure. I accepted his cold shoulder without protest. I even agreed to Sienna Hayes’s request to live in our home. I didn’t know what had happened during the three months I was away. But amidst the absurd cohabitation of three people, I clearly sensed that Adam Breaux no longer loved me. Love, or the lack thereof, cannot be hidden. Those tiny changes were like shards of glass, scattered throughout every corner of my life. Sienna Hayes would caress her slightly bulging belly, her voice soft. “The gray tones in the house make me so depressed, my appetite isn’t good… Can we change it to a warm brown?” “Eliza’s piano is so beautiful, can I touch it? Just for a second.” She would frown, her gaze drifting to my favorite photo on the mantelpiece, “Strange, this wedding photo makes me dizzy…” I was almost driven to a breaking point by her. I didn’t like warm colors. And I wouldn’t allow anyone to touch my piano. And that wedding photo of Adam Breaux embracing me from behind on the black sand beach in Iceland was my most cherished picture. Yet, every time I tried to refuse, Adam Breaux would speak first. “No problem.” “Eliza, she’s pregnant, give her some leeway.” “It’s just changing some soft furnishings, don’t be so petty.” “Let’s put the photo away for now, a pregnant woman’s emotions are important.” So, the gray walls were covered with dark red wallpaper. My piano was moved to a corner, its lid piled high with her pregnancy magazines. The day my wedding photo disappeared, I found it in a cardboard box in the storage room, the glass cracked with a fine line. My home became Sienna Hayes’s showroom. Anxiety and resentment coiled around my heart like vines. I became someone even I disliked, paranoid and jumpy. And each time, Sienna Hayes perfectly stirred the waters. “Eliza, don’t misunderstand, Adam just wants to listen to the baby’s heartbeat…” “Alright, I won’t discuss baby names with him anymore, so you don’t overthink it.” Adam Breaux would then turn to look at me, his brow furrowed in an arc of weariness. “She’s your sister, and she’s carrying my child. Can’t you be more generous?” “Our sixteen years of affection, can’t that outweigh your suspicions?” He sighed, his gaze drifting past me to the window. “I’m very tired. Why can’t you… be as understanding as Sienna?” I became withdrawn and silent. Allowing their laughter and joy to fill my home. I thought that if I just endured this period, everything would end once Sienna Hayes had her baby. But I never expected her tricks, usually reserved for our parents, to be used on Adam Breaux. At six months, Sienna Hayes secretly ate the medium-rare steak I had cooked for myself. That night, the wail of an ambulance siren tore through the quiet of the neighborhood. Acute gastroenteritis, threatened premature labor. In the stark hospital corridor, Adam Breaux roared at me, his finger almost poking my nose: “Eliza Bennett! You know pregnant women can’t eat raw meat!” “She’s your sister! Are you trying to kill her and the baby?!” I stood frozen, chilled to the bone. “I never intended to cook it for her. That was for me to take to the office.” “She’s framing me again!!” Adam Breaux scoffed. “Always claiming to be framed! She’s six months pregnant!! What could she gain by framing you? Do you have a persecution complex?!” Not far away, Sienna Hayes winked provocatively at me. As if pressing her advantage, she became emotionally distraught, tears streaming down her face. “Eliza! When you were little, you hurt your eardrum playing around, and you blamed me!” “When you ran off with your boyfriend and missed an exam, you falsely accused me of locking you in!” “Even now! You deliberately fed me raw meat, even though Adam was home watching, and you still try to argue it!?” Sienna Hayes’s chest heaved with indignation. She was very convincing. Adam Breaux rushed back to her bedside, soothing Sienna Hayes as she gasped for breath. “Alright, don’t get upset.” “Be careful not to disturb the baby again.” When he looked up at me, his gaze had completely chilled, filled with intense disgust. “Leave. Don’t provoke your sister here any further.” A hysterical argument erupted once more. “Do you honestly believe I’m the one bullying her?!” “Adam Breaux, have you checked the security footage? Have you investigated? How can you be so certain…” My words were cut off by his impatient interruption. “Certain of what? For the few months Sienna’s been pregnant, you’ve been suspicious, wanting to watch her and me 24/7! What’s wrong with her just wanting her own child? What’s wrong with me providing some emotional support to a pregnant woman??” I couldn’t hold back anymore. “Providing emotional support to a pregnant woman requires soaking her feet? Peeling shrimp for her? Attending every prenatal appointment with her?” His face went completely dark. “Eliza Bennett, you always see problems with other people. Have you ever considered that for Sienna Hayes, that’s also a stepmother! Why do people only target you? Why do they pamper Sienna?” “Why do you never look for reasons within yourself?” “I’ve never seen Sienna Hayes bully you! It’s all something you fabricated!” I stared at him in disbelief. I almost couldn’t stand. “Adam Breaux!! You don’t love me anymore, you’ve changed your mind, just say it! Why twist the facts and slander me?!” His expression shifted. Just as a look of guilt crossed his face, Sienna Hayes’s suppressed sobbing came from behind: “Don’t argue, both of you… it’s all my fault…” He rushed back to her bedside. The only thing left for me was his back. “Eliza, just go home for now. Don’t act crazy in front of a patient.” In that instant, my decade-long affection for Adam Breaux, in his indifferent gaze, faded away with the wind. Later, the two of them acted as if they held an unbreakable shield for those last few months. They completely dropped any pretense. Adam Breaux didn’t even bother to explain anything to me. The prized tickets to the Vienna Philharmonic New Year’s Concert, which I had cherished, were again used by him to take Sienna Hayes for prenatal music education. “Sienna says the baby has been moving a lot lately, and the doctor suggested listening to calming classical music.” “I’m taking her to listen. She’s having a tough pregnancy, she deserves to relax.” Sienna Hayes leaned against him, her fingers caressing her swollen abdomen, giving me a smile mixed with apology and superiority. “Eliza, you don’t mind, do you? Adam is just doing what’s best for the baby.” I opened my mouth, but found my throat clogged with something, unable to make any sound. That Berlin concert was playing my favorite, Brahms’s Fourth Symphony. Countless times in the dead of night, Adam Breaux and I would lean our heads together, sharing a single earphone to listen to this piece. When the second movement began, he would kiss my earlobe, “We must go hear it live someday, just the two of us.” Later, he did go to hear it live. Only it wasn’t with me, but with my sister. After that long half-month, they returned, the living room piled with shopping bags. Sienna Hayes looked remarkably well. Her skin had a honeyed glow from the European sun, and a delicate diamond pinky ring adorned her ring finger. Adam Breaux pulled out a shoddily packaged box of Mozart chocolate balls from the bottom of his luggage. “Eliza, I brought these for you.” He didn’t even look at me, instead bending down to massage Sienna Hayes’s slightly swollen calves. “Try them, they’re a specialty of Salzburg.” I stared at that box of chocolate balls, available at any airport. I remembered many years ago, when we were poor students and went to Shanghai for a concert for the first time. He clutched two student tickets, but after the show, he pulled out a small, ridiculously expensive box of Godiva, his eyes shining brightly. “Eliza, from now on, every time we go to a concert, I’ll buy you better chocolate.” My thoughts drifted back. Recalling that frantic, desperate past. Now, only a desolate calm remained in my heart. … “Eliza, do you know Mr. Breaux?” “He said he wanted to see you.” My thoughts returned to the present.

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“1 When I learned that the IVF embryo I carried was actually a mix of my husband’s and his mistress’s DNA, I didn’t react violently like before. Instead, I calmly carried it to term and gave birth. From then on, I became the talk of high society, feeding gossip columns. Millionaires envied Ethan for having such a “magnanimous” wife, mistresses prayed to trap him, and other wives saw me as a disgrace. Ten months later, I safely delivered the baby. As I left the delivery room, Ethan kissed my forehead gently. “Clara can’t handle pain and you’re infertile, so you were perfect to carry our child,” he said. “Don’t worry—she only wants to be a mother. Your status as Mrs. Sterling is safe. You’re still the one I love most.” Everyone thought I was too in love with Ethan to fight the mistress, so I went along. But only I knew the truth: this child was forced on me by the Sterling matriarch, who repaid a past favor. Now that the heir was born, the promised divorce agreement should finally take effect. … The anesthesia wore off, and the pain jolted me awake from unconsciousness. The moment my eyes opened, Ethan Sterling, beaming with joy, held the baby. “Darling, Grandma has already named our child. Just sign here, and he can be officially registered.” He handed me the birth certificate. Seeing the name Arthur Sterling, my groggy mind instantly cleared. Arthur. A name meaning “noble strength,” or perhaps for me, “to engrave the beginning.” It was the beautiful aspiration I held for my unborn biological son. It represented our hopes for love. And it was the name given to the thirteenth generation’s firstborn in the Sterling family lineage. To rescue Ethan Sterling from kidnappers years ago, I had taken a knife for him, injuring my body, making it impossible to conceive again. Later, our first IVF child was tragically lost due to a miscarriage from excessive bleeding after he pushed me, having caught him cheating on our marital bed with my stepsister, Clara Berthelsen. That had been a fully formed boy. After my recovery, I planned to erect a memorial for him, a cenotaph, to be placed in the family cemetery. But a fortune teller had said the child hadn’t reached full term, the timing wasn’t right, and it had to wait. That wait lasted over a year. During my current pregnancy, he had whispered in my ear countless times, wanting to give the name Arthur Sterling to this illegitimate child. I had always refused. But now, looking at his expectant eyes, I only felt disgust at my past tears and misery. I knew Grandma would never choose that name. It was just Clara Berthelsen, who loved to claim everything of mine, whispering in Ethan Sterling’s ear. Anyway, divorce was a certainty. I didn’t care for the name of a heartless father. “Whatever. Call him whatever you want.” “I only have one request: don’t list me as the child’s mother. My biological son in heaven wouldn’t be happy.” Ethan Sterling paused, a flicker of guilt in his eyes. “Elara, don’t worry, I’m only using her for half of your bloodline. Her and I…” Before he could finish, a loud crash suddenly came from outside the door. “You little hussy, who gave you permission to be here!” Clara Berthelsen fell to the ground, sobbing. “I just wanted to see the baby.” Grandma Sterling, leaning on her cane, repeatedly struck her. “Get out!” In that instant, Ethan Sterling was like a startled bird. Without even handing the baby to the nurse, he roughly tossed him onto me and rushed out. The freshly stitched incision ripped open under the pressure, and a searing pain made me cry out. But he seemed not to hear, leaving me. His unwavering action of shielding Clara Berthelsen, standing defiantly between her and Grandma’s cane, made his earlier comforting words to me seem utterly ridiculous. “Grandma! It was my idea, and I did it for the Sterling family! Don’t hurt innocent people!” Grandma Sterling paused, unconsciously looking at me. Seeing the white bedsheet stained with blood, she struck Ethan Sterling with her cane. “You beast! Her wound isn’t healed, how can she hold a baby!” Ethan Sterling’s eyes filled with panic and regret. He was about to rush over to me. But Clara Berthelsen suddenly collapsed behind him. He panicked, scooped her up, and started to leave. Grandma Sterling stood firmly in his path. “You’re not going anywhere! Your wife is still in there! Do you still want this family or not!” 2 Ethan Sterling’s eyes were filled with hesitation. “Yes! But she was hurt by you! I can’t abandon her! Elara… she’s with you, she’ll be fine!” Once upon a time, he shielded me from every storm. Once upon a time, he would never make me the one to be abandoned. I endured the pain and gave him a faint glance. “Grandma, let him go.” He seemed surprised by my magnanimity. After all, in the past, to keep him from leaving, I had thrown tantrums, rolled on the floor, abandoning all dignity. His eyes were complex. He wanted to say something, but in the end, he strode away. The nurse and maternity assistant helped me re-dress my wound. The baby was also settled to sleep. My phone suddenly pinged with a message from him. “I forgot about your wound, I’m sorry. I just didn’t want to cause a scene in the hospital and affect the Sterling family’s reputation.” “Clara is unconscious and can’t be left alone, so I won’t be coming back for now. You rest well.” I stared at the screen for a long time, stunned. I remembered how he once, upon hearing I was injured in another city, flew for eleven hours, canceling all work just to be with me for a check-up, staying by my side every moment. Seeing me sigh, Grandma Sterling snatched my phone. She read the cold words on the screen and snorted. “That scoundrel! I’ll deal with him when he comes back. Elara, don’t worry, Grandma…” Hearing this, I suddenly chuckled, looking at her with calm eyes. “You condoned all of this, didn’t you?” “I no longer care what he does. You promised me that once I gave birth to this child, you would help me divorce. I hope you keep your word.” Her expression froze, her eyes filled with deep guilt. “Grandma is sorry.” “I’ve already tricked him into signing the divorce agreement. Rest peacefully for your thirty days of confinement, then you can leave.” Grandma kept the baby with her, personally arranging for his care. Meanwhile, I stayed at a maternity center under the guise of an early confinement, avoiding gossip. But that night, the scandal of the Sterling heir’s fury for his mistress, abandoning his wife after childbirth, and defying the matriarch to protect his sister-in-law, spread throughout the business circle. Sterling Group’s stock continued to plummet, leaving Ethan Sterling frantic. Clara Berthelsen’s social media influencer account was overrun by angry netizens. The past incident, when I had exposed her for seducing my husband only for Ethan Sterling to suppress it, was resurrected. The platform was filled with curses. If not for Ethan Sterling’s help, her account would likely have been deactivated, and she’d owe breach-of-contract fees. I didn’t see him again until seven days later. The first time he saw me, he looked at me with disappointment. “Elara Bennett, are you happy now, getting your revenge on us like this?” I paused, then quickly realized he was blaming me for the spread of the gossip. Of course. After all, I used to work in media, and I was an expert at fanning the flames. Unfortunately, the first time I, in a fit of madness, exposed his and Clara Berthelsen’s scandal, he blackmailed my company with claims of privacy invasion and defamation, forcing them to fire me. Now, finding someone to help would truly be difficult. I gave him a sidelong glance, no longer feeling the sting of being misunderstood. I continued to work on the anniversary gift I was knitting for Arthur. “You should know that your scandals aren’t just the ones visible on the surface. If I wanted to expose them, you’d probably suffer another major blow.” He stood at the doorway for a long time, stunned. He spoke, almost helplessly. “After this, I’ll break it off with her. But promise me, we’ll live our lives well together, okay? With a child, we’ll be a happy family.” He had spoken words like this almost every day during my pregnancy. Yet, it hadn’t stopped him from continuing to be entangled with Clara Berthelsen. He either felt pity for her status as an illegitimate child or believed she was lonely without family support. In short, he had a thousand reasons for his irresistible attraction to her and his desire to protect her every whim. He stood by the door, refusing to leave, as if he wouldn’t budge until I answered. Seeing him blocking the sunlight, I perfunctorily agreed. It wasn’t until the next morning, when explicit photos and videos of my alleged affair went viral online, that I understood what he meant by “after this.” Ethan Sterling released a clarification video. In the video, he tearfully told the media that I had spitefully spread false gossip about him because my sister had discovered my affair during pregnancy. 3 Clara Berthelsen, weeping profusely, claimed she had merely advised me not to hurt Ethan Sterling’s feelings, but I, believing she was about to expose my adultery, sought revenge. Everyone urged Ethan Sterling to divorce me, this “”loose woman,”” immediately. But he, instead, put on a show of deep affection. “No matter what mistakes Elara makes in this life, I cannot stop loving her.” Watching his hypocritical performance, I couldn’t help but throw up. Ethan Sterling, hearing this from outside the door, rushed in. “What’s wrong?” I frowned, looking at Clara Berthelsen who had followed him in, and pulled my hand away from his. “Nothing, just that you disgust me. To protect a mistress’s transgressions, you’d go to any length to defame your wife’s reputation. Ethan Sterling, your love is truly magnificent.” His face paled, and he opened his mouth to explain. But Clara Berthelsen suddenly knelt, weeping, her face streaked with tears. “I’m sorry, Elara. It’s all my fault! Julian only made you a scapegoat because of me.” Ethan Sterling instantly felt deeply pained, his eyes turning to me in a reproving gaze. “I came here to tell you about this. Those images were all AI-generated by me. Ultimately, she’s your sister, and it’s only right for you to sacrifice yourself to help her maintain family ties. Why do you have to be so aggressive towards her?” “Besides, you’re a housewife; reputation means nothing to you. What outsiders say won’t affect my feelings for you. It’s enough that I know it’s fake. But she’s different. She has no one to rely on and depends on the media for her livelihood. If her image and reputation are ruined, everything is over for her.” Listening to his high-sounding justifications, I felt nothing but disgust. Being a housewife was his doing, after all. Not only did he force the company to fire me, but he also spread the word throughout the media industry that anyone who hired me would be going against him. My interviews repeatedly hit dead ends. When I finally found a private studio, he maliciously reported us. Ultimately, all my media practitioner certificates were revoked, making me an outcast in the industry, scorned by everyone. I couldn’t be bothered to argue with him. The maternity nurse had said to keep a pleasant mood during confinement, and in any case, in another half a month, I would be completely free. Grandma also promised me that she would clear my name then. What they did no longer mattered. I looked at him expressionlessly, let out a long breath, and turned over into bed. “Do as you please. Whatever you want to do, do it.” He thought I was going to hit Clara Berthelsen as I had in the past, and he became incredibly nervous, standing firmly in front of her. But seeing me turn my back and lie down, all his emotions came to a halt. After a long moment, he asked me in a disbelieving tone, “You… you’re not angry?” My voice was flat. “Didn’t you always wish for me and her to get along harmoniously?” He sighed in relief and smiled. “You’ve finally learned. I knew you weren’t such a heartless person. I’ll definitely make it up to you later.” I didn’t reply, and I didn’t look at him until they left. After a long while, I touched my chest, feeling no stirrings. So this was what it felt like to let go. In the following days, perhaps out of guilt, he came to see me every few days. He was met with resistance and coldness but remained unperturbed, simply telling me about the wonderful life we would have together. It wasn’t until he brought up the baby’s one-month celebration that he spoke with difficulty. “Clara can never acknowledge her biological child in this life, so I was thinking, before the child is old enough to understand, she could openly attend the baby’s one-month party as his mother.” “It would complete her regret, don’t you think?” My knitting needles didn’t stop, and I didn’t even look up. “I told you, do as you please. This isn’t my child to begin with. Whatever you want to do has nothing to do with me.” He stiffened, his eyes reddening with a hint of anger. He snatched away the memorial items I was knitting for Arthur. “Why are you always like this these days! Do you know what her attending represents? It means implicitly acknowledging her as the mistress of the Sterling family. You used to be completely against it.” I paused, then looked at him with a bored expression. “Isn’t this good? Last month, when you two were in bed, didn’t you say it was a shame you couldn’t give her a proper status in this lifetime?” He stood there, frozen and pale like a statue. I retrieved my items, my emotions stable as if nothing had happened. His incessant, nauseating attempts to explain that he didn’t love her, that he was merely drugged and compelled to sleep with her, wanting to take responsibility, were defeated by my silence. 4 After that day, he didn’t come to see me again. But I often saw Clara Berthelsen posting pictures on her social media, showing them taking family portraits in various styles with the child. On the day I finished my confinement, the entire Sterling family was celebrating the illegitimate child’s one-month party. Grandma said the divorce papers would be finalized the next day. When I returned home to pack my things, our cozy marital bedroom had been completely redecorated to Clara Berthelsen’s taste. Even the photo of him cradling my pregnant belly, which used to sit by the living room TV, had been replaced with a family portrait of him, Clara Berthelsen, and the baby. In the photo, Ethan Sterling was smiling genuinely. Even more beautifully than the day he successfully confessed his love to me. I went back to the bedroom, intending to take some clothes I had before our marriage. But when I searched through the closet, I couldn’t find the purely handmade embroidered qipao my mother had personally sewn for me before she passed away. I was about to call to ask when I saw a photo on social media of Clara Berthelsen wearing it at the one-month party. A wave of fury boiled over. I hailed a cab and rushed to the banquet hall, watching her, arm-in-arm with Ethan Sterling, smiling and accepting everyone’s compliments. Seeing me, Ethan Sterling had a hint of guilt on his face, but also a predictable smugness. He released Clara Berthelsen and walked towards me. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist coming, but today is an important occasion for the child, don’t…” I didn’t give him a chance to finish. I rushed to Clara Berthelsen and slapped her across the face. “Remember your place as a mistress. Don’t be like your mother, that old hussy, always stealing other people’s things.” With that, I pulled out a pair of scissors and tore through the qipao she was wearing. With a ripping sound, accompanied by her piercing shriek, I shredded the dress. “If you have no clothes, go naked. This is a dress my mother made for me. You, a mistress, I’d rather destroy it than let you wear it!” The scene erupted into chaos. Grandma Sterling, usually so concerned with family reputation, uncharacteristically stood still, not intervening. Ethan Sterling threw a coat over Clara Berthelsen, glaring furiously at me. “How can you be so vicious? With so many people here, where will she put her face? It was just a borrowed dress. Do you really have to be so petty?” Seeing his inability to distinguish right from wrong, I sneered, and with a swift motion of my scissors, cut all the buttons off the couple’s formal shirt that my mother had made for him. “You forgot the vow you made to my mother, to be good to me for life. That’s alright, I won’t forget. Our relationship is like this gown now, severed and broken!” “I wish your family a hundred years of happiness.” With those words, I left amidst everyone’s shock. That one-month party ended badly. Clara Berthelsen, overcome with emotion, fainted, and Ethan Sterling took her to the hospital. Grandma Sterling presided over the rest of the banquet alone with the child. The next morning, I successfully obtained my divorce certificate. My phone still held a message from Ethan Sterling demanding an apology. I blocked and deleted him, then took my divorce certificate to the cemetery to visit my Arthur. Two weeks earlier, I had already arranged for a headstone to be placed for him. Looking at the words “Beloved Son Arthur Bennett,” my heart ached endlessly. I opened my mouth, about to say something. Ethan Sterling’s voice came from behind me. “I knew you’d come here. You always used to come see the child whenever you felt wronged. But yesterday, you went too far, in public…” Before he could finish, Clara Berthelsen gasped. “Julian, Elara actually named that child the same name as our child!” “Elara, no matter how much you dislike that child, you will always be his mother. Why would you use the same name to curse him to an early death?” Ethan Sterling frowned, stepping closer and seeing the name Arthur Bennett. His gaze swept down, seeing only “Mother Elara Bennett” listed as the monument setter, and no mention of him. The maternal surname filled him with a strange and uneasy feeling. But quickly, this uneasiness dissipated amidst Clara Berthelsen’s crying. He glared at me. “The child’s death is also a regret in my heart, but why did you act on your own? Are you trying to curse your own nephew to an early death?” “I haven’t even confronted you about shaming Clara in public yesterday. Do you think I love you so much that I’ll indulge your every whim?” “I’m giving you ten minutes. Immediately tell the cemetery to smash this headstone. I’ll reconsider a name and have a new one put up!” I coldly stared at this man who had once cried inconsolably after our son’s death. “What if I refuse?” He froze, looking at me in astonishment. After a long moment, his eyes filled with deep disappointment. He raised his hand, and three bodyguards emerged from a car. “Elara Bennett, he is my child, but Clara’s child is also my child. If you insist on doing this, then I will have no choice but to dig up his grave!” “I’m sure his spirit in heaven will not blame me, knowing it’s to protect his younger brother.” Even though I already knew his ugly face, hearing him threaten to dig up his own child’s grave for the sake of a mistress, for the sake of a name, my heart still ached. Seeing his confident expression, certain that I would back down for the sake of my child’s peace, I smiled. Calmly, I pulled out the divorce certificate from my bag and tossed it in front of him. “My apologies, Mr. Sterling. I don’t think you have the right to dictate what I name my child.” “Because an hour ago, we ceased to be husband and wife.” “

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My father had an affair. He even had a secret child, a son. Just like in my previous life, my mother, Eleanor Montgomery, fueled by pride and anger, walked out on him, taking me with her and leaving everything behind. I followed her into a life of poverty and hardship, eventually meeting a desolate, premature end. But I’m back, reborn. This time, I didn’t hesitate. I pushed her away. I chose my father. The double betrayal, from both me and my father, left my mother trembling with rage. She cursed me, called me an ungrateful wretch. “So what?” I’d spat back, the words laced with a venom born of past suffering. “I’m never going back to that miserable life with you!” … It was during my sophomore year of high school that my mother discovered my father’s infidelity. His secret son, Jeremy Reed, was already ten years old. The revelation shattered her. She insisted on a divorce, no matter what. My father, Richard Reed, however, refused, threatening that if she left, she’d take me and walk away with nothing. My mother was a proud woman. True to his word, she left him, taking nothing but me. She believed her self-sacrifice, her unwavering pride, would sting my father, make him regret his actions, and perhaps even respect her for her strength. But he never looked back. He married his mistress, Serena Hastings, and lived what he considered a ‘happy life.’ My mother, meanwhile, worked three jobs a day to put me through school. The relentless stress and crushing exhaustion soon led to breast cancer. Without the money for treatment, she died far too young. At her funeral, my father merely shrugged. “Your mother was always too stubborn, too proud,” he’d said, a cold, dismissive tone in his voice. “See? This is what happens when you leave me.” His mistress, Serena, had covered her mouth, a smirk playing on her lips. “It was Eleanor who insisted on the divorce, darling. Richard and I only got together after that. How can you blame me? She simply didn’t appreciate what she had.” Our relatives chimed in, “Eleanor had a good life and threw it away. She brought it on herself.” Everyone agreed she deserved her fate. Not a single soul offered sympathy. Her pride, her fierce resolve, had earned her no kind words, only a bitter, tragic half-life. Unable to afford tuition, I dropped out of college and started working. In the end, Serena and her son, Jeremy, fearing I might return to claim a share of the inheritance, hired thugs. They ambushed me, and I met a brutal, unjust end on my way home from an late shift. On that night, when my cries went unanswered by heaven or earth, I swore a silent oath: if I were ever given another chance, I would never again be a lamb led to slaughter. And mercifully, fate granted me that chance. When I opened my eyes again, I heard the familiar sound of my mother and father arguing downstairs. “Richard Reed, are you even human?!” My mother’s voice cracked, thick with tears. “I’ve been with you since I was twenty! You had nothing back then. We finally have a house, a car, a company, and this is how you treat me?! I want a divorce!” She then launched into a tearful account of every struggle, every sacrifice, she’d made by his side. It was the exact same scene from my past life. “That’s enough, Eleanor Montgomery!” My father’s voice boomed as he rose from the sofa. “What else can you do besides drone on about the past like a broken record?” He paced, agitated. “You’ve been idle at home all these years. The house, the car, the company—which of them did you work for?” He paused, his gaze cold. “Serena’s right. All this talk, isn’t it just an excuse to demand more money?!” Serena Hastings was my father’s mistress. His words struck my mother like a physical blow. Her eyes wide with disbelief, she stared at my father, then nodded slowly. “Fine. That’s how you see me, is it? Then divorce! Divorce immediately! Skylar comes with me. You can go off with your mistress!” “If you’re so determined to be high and mighty and get a divorce, then walk away with nothing!” My father slammed a divorce agreement onto the coffee table. Just as in my previous life, my mother reached for the agreement, her hand already moving to sign it. “Mom, wait.” I descended the stairs, my voice cutting through the tension. I picked up the agreement and scanned it. Identical to the last time: I was assigned to my mother, and all assets went to my father. It seemed my father had been prepared, knowing my mother’s proud nature, he’d deliberately provoked her into signing this one-sided document. My mother, oblivious to being manipulated, still believed he was just being stubborn. “This agreement needs a revision,” I told my father, looking at him directly. “Dad, I’m your daughter. I want to stay with you.” My father’s face broke into a relieved smile. My mother, however, stumbled back a step, her expression a mix of shock and profound hurt as she looked at me. She signed the revised agreement, packed a few changes of clothes, and turned to leave. I reached out to stop her, but she angrily shrugged off my hand. “Spineless creature! Go live with your rich father! Don’t touch me!” I knew. The double betrayal from both me and my father had wounded her deeply. But right now, her mind was consumed by her feelings for my father, and the misguided hope that her pride would make him see her in a different light. Any attempt to reason with her, to persuade her to fight for her share of the assets, would be useless. I had to take matters into my own hands. I discreetly gathered her jewelry—all gifts from my father, worth over a million dollars—and tucked them into her suitcase. In my previous life, she hadn’t taken a single piece when she left, leaving them all for Serena and forcing herself to take on dishwashing and cleaning jobs for barely fifteen hundred a month. Giving her these now, I knew, would at least buy her some time if she faced financial trouble. But my father’s assets were in the hundreds of millions; this small sum was far from enough. The next morning, my father’s company made headlines. “Reed Group Chairman’s Affair Forces Wife to Leave with Nothing,” “Richard Reed Abandons Devoted Wife for Mistress”—the titles were everywhere. The internet erupted in a storm of outrage, condemning my father as ungrateful. Partners called, eager to get to the bottom of the scandal. My father flew into a rage. “Who leaked this?! How did the media get such sensitive information?” His lawyer wrung his hands nervously. “We don’t know yet, Mr. Reed. But given the current situation, we simply must allocate a portion of the assets to Ms. Montgomery.” My father grumbled and cursed, but in the end, he had no choice but to agree to transfer the current villa to my mother and offer her an additional three million dollars in compensation. What surprised me, however, was that my mother, with an almost defiant pride, refused the compensation. My father was caught in a bind, burning under public scrutiny. I tugged his arm. “Dad, if Mom doesn’t want it, you could put it in my name. Then you can tell the media that Mom simply gave her share of the assets to me. It has nothing to do with you or anyone else.” My father agreed. He transferred the house and the savings into my name, ensuring it was legally notarized that these assets belonged solely to me. This move quieted some of the public outcry, but my mother called me, furious, accusing me of being greedy and spineless, telling me I didn’t know how to earn money with my own hands. I simply sighed. Just wait, Mom, I thought. You’ll soon learn that pride is worth nothing in the face of reality. A month after the divorce, my mother called me. Her voice was hesitant. “Skylar, how did some jewelry end up in my bag? Was it you or your father…?” Poor Mom. She was still clinging to the illusion that my father might feel some remorse. “It was me,” I stated, shattering her fantasy. I knew this was the moment my mother was starting to feel the harsh reality of the world. Years of being a housewife meant she faced rejection everywhere she applied for jobs. She had no friends, her parents had passed away, and her life was spiraling into difficulty. In my previous life, she ended up working as a dishwasher for a thousand a month, still harboring fantasies that my father would take her back. This time, finding the jewelry while financially desperate had ignited a final spark of hope for him. Unfortunately, my father was currently preoccupied with planning his wedding to Serena. “Dad and Serena are very much in love, and they’re getting married soon,” I cruelly informed my mother. “Mom, you need to start a new life too.” My mother finally gave up hope. She sold all the jewelry, used the money to buy herself a small two-bedroom apartment, and settled down. At least this time, she wouldn’t have to live in a dingy basement apartment for three hundred a month, like before. She hesitated, then said, “Skylar, I misunderstood you that day. But why didn’t you stay with me? Is it because you thought I was poor?” Recalling everything I’d endured in my previous life, I didn’t answer directly. I simply advised her, “Mom, I’ll study hard from now on, and you live well. Remember to get regular check-ups, and if you meet a suitable man, don’t be afraid to start over.” It was a long time before she replied with a choked “Okay.” Three months after the divorce, my father married his mistress, Serena Hastings. My father bought a new villa, and twenty-nine-year-old Serena moved in, bringing her ten-year-old son, Jeremy. Like many stepmothers, Serena was a two-faced woman. When my father was around, she’d smile sweetly, constantly piling food onto my plate. “Skylar, darling, you’re still growing. You need to eat more.” The moment my father left, her smile vanished, replaced by a look of disdain and veiled hostility. She’d hum a tune, primping herself, then dump Jeremy on me. “Skylar Reed, I have errands to run. Jeremy is your responsibility. I hear your grades are excellent, so you need to tutor him properly! Make sure he finishes his homework! He is, after all, the heir to the Reed family!” What errands could she possibly have? Just playing mahjong and clubbing with her fair-weather friends, no doubt. “I have my own homework to do. I don’t have time to tutor him,” I replied. I was in the second semester of my junior year, a demanding time for studies. “What’s a girl like you doing with all that homework?!” she sneered, her face filled with contempt. “Look at your mother—a college graduate, what good did it do her? Didn’t Richard just dump her? I only finished elementary school, and I’m living in a grand villa, aren’t I?” She leaned in conspiratorially. “Your mother, she just read too many books and ruined her brain. Had a good life and didn’t appreciate it. A woman’s virtue is in her obedience, not her intellect, Skylar. You don’t need all that schooling; just make sure your little brother is taken care of.” The scene from my mother’s funeral in my past life flashed before my eyes. I offered a gentle smile. “Of course. I’ll make sure to tutor him well.” Only then did Serena relent, leaving for her mahjong game, a satisfied smirk on her face. Before the sound of the door closing completely faded, a basketball suddenly slammed against my forehead with a thump. Stars exploded in my vision, and I nearly collapsed. Looking up, I saw Jeremy standing on the stairs, glaring down at me. “Skylar Reed, I’m the heir to this house! You may be older, but you’re just a girl, and you’ll get married and leave eventually! You have to listen to me and stay out of my way! Or I’ll beat you up!” “Who told you that?” I asked. “My mom, of course! She said all the Reed family fortune is mine! I call the shots here. You’re nothing!” Jeremy declared, his chin jutted out defiantly. He was right. I couldn’t cross him. Not yet. So, I would indulge him. I took him to the game room downstairs, then, under his direction, taught him how to play various video games. Once he’d grasped the basics, he waved me off, mimicking my father. “Go on, scram! Don’t bother me!” I returned to my study as instructed, a cold smile forming on my lips. Taught to be like this at ten years old? They would have quite the shock when he grew up. Jeremy spent the entire day in the game room, delighted. At four in the afternoon, estimating Serena would soon be home, I gave Jeremy the answer key. He happily copied all his homework. When Serena checked his work, her eyes curved into delighted crescents. “Oh, Richard, look how much Jeremy has improved! All correct! He truly is our future heir!” My father laughed, pleased. “Of course! What do you expect? He’s my son.” I watched them, a chill in my heart. Even in this life, where I chose to stay with my father, it seemed Jeremy was still the only heir he envisioned for the Reed family. From that day on, after discovering this free labor, Serena completely abandoned any pretense of supervising Jeremy. She was out early and back late every day, busy with shopping, beauty treatments, and mahjong. She ordered me to take full responsibility for Jeremy’s studies, even demanding I attend parent-teacher conferences in her place. Her days, in contrast, were easy and comfortable. The house, surprisingly, became harmonious, thanks to Jeremy and my feigned obedience, and Serena’s cheerful disposition. My father, free from the previous pressures, felt utterly at ease. He constantly praised Serena for her excellent homemaking and child-rearing skills. At Serena’s insistence, he even promised to transfer thirty percent of the company’s shares to her when Jeremy graduated from elementary school. My mother, I remembered, had been by his side for so many years and never received a single share. From then on, I studied even harder, practically forgetting to eat or sleep. My academic ranking climbed steadily. When I graduated high school, I was accepted into one of the top ten universities in the country, choosing a Business Management major. At the parent-teacher conference for college applications, the counselor repeatedly commended my parents for their excellent guidance. My father beamed, his smile stretching from ear to ear, as if my academic achievements were solely the result of his efforts. My mother, when she heard the news, wept tears of joy. She had worried that the divorce would negatively impact my studies, never imagining I could achieve such outstanding results. She didn’t know that after a lifetime of no education, forced to drop out and work, I cherished every opportunity to learn now. Serena, upon hearing my chosen major, pouted. “What’s a girl like you doing studying that?” My father, for once, didn’t agree with her. He chuckled. “The family business is here, after all! Maybe she can even help me out someday!” Serena, seeing my father’s beaming face, unhappily retorted, “Doesn’t our Jeremy have the company? What does it have to do with a girl?” My father scolded her for the first time. “You really are narrow-minded. Women can manage businesses too! Besides, Jeremy is still so young, isn’t he?” Serena, fuming but unable to argue, let out a disdainful huff. “What difference does it make? Our Jeremy is a genius! He gets perfect scores on all his homework, and he’s praised at every parent-teacher meeting! His elementary school graduation results are coming out in a few days. Jeremy will definitely get first place!” Yes, I thought. Busy with my own college entrance exams, I had almost forgotten that my exams and Jeremy’s elementary school graduation coincided that year. My father, hearing Serena’s words, looked even more delighted. Only Jeremy nervously lowered his head. I smirked inwardly. On the day the elementary school results were released, Serena specifically asked my father to cancel his business appointments to go with her. “Skylar Reed, we won’t be home for dinner tonight,” she said, gloating. “Our little family of three is going out to celebrate. Your dad is even transferring shares to us! We’ll be back late.” She deliberately emphasized “family of three,” pointedly excluding me. For some reason, she always harbored a subtle hostility towards me, constantly trying to provoke me, both overtly and covertly. I pretended not to notice her venom. “Oh, that’s wonderful. Have a good time.” To my surprise, less than an hour later, they were back. My father stormed through the door, yelling, “You told me your son would get first place?! Did you mean last place?!” I nearly burst out laughing. It turned out my father and Serena, unable to contain their excitement, had rushed to see Jeremy’s homeroom teacher without waiting for the parent-teacher conference. The teacher had then sharply reprimanded them, revealing that Jeremy spent his days at school trying to skip class and play games, never studying. She’d also criticized them as irresponsible parents for sending a child to every conference. Finally, to their astonishment, she presented his report card: 25 in English, 18 in Math, 15 in Science—last in the entire class. My father was shaking with anger and left before the conference even began. Serena immediately turned her fury on me. “Skylar Reed, you did this on purpose, didn’t you?! I told you to tutor your brother, what were you doing?! Why didn’t you tell us the truth after the parent-teacher conferences?!” I feigned innocence. “Dad, you know I was in my final year of high school, studying for college entrance exams. I was so busy! How could I have time to tutor him every day? And when I came back from conferences, I wanted to tell Aunt Serena, but she was never home! I couldn’t find her!” My father, hearing this, grew even angrier. “Serena Hastings! What kind of mother are you?! Didn’t you know Skylar was in her final year?! You burdened her with more! And you’re never home! What good are you?!” Serena realized she had been outmaneuvered. She shot me a hateful glare, then burst into tears. “Richard, I didn’t know it would be like this! I always thought he was doing so well!” My father ignored her tears this time. He turned to go upstairs, but Serena grabbed his arm. “Richard, we can talk about the grades later. Let’s transfer those shares first!” Even now, she was still focused on the thirty percent of shares. “Shares for what?!” My father exploded, swearing. He pointed at Serena and Jeremy. “With you two like this, what good would transferring shares do?! Don’t you ever bring it up again!” After my father went upstairs, Serena raised her hand to strike me. I caught her wrist, mimicking her own words at my mother’s funeral in my past life. “Aunt Serena, you were the one who insisted I take full responsibility for Jeremy’s studies, weren’t you? How can you blame me?” She was so enraged her lips trembled. I returned to my room to sleep, listening to her yelling at and hitting Jeremy in the living room all afternoon.

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