Author: Momo Chan

1 I was waiting for an ad to finish on my show when I scrolled past a viral video. The caption was about an ex-boyfriend. “It’s been five years since we broke up, and he’s never once let my streaming subscription lapse.” The top comment was from a burner account: “I’m the poster’s ex. The subscription is linked directly to her phone number, so it renews automatically. She’s never asked me for a cent.” “She was an amazing friend and partner. It was always my pleasure to spend money on her.” “This is my choice and has nothing to do with her. Please be kind in the comments. It hurts me to see people speak ill of her.” The replies flooded in: “OMG, he saw people hating on her and exposed his own secret account just to protect her! I’m crying!” On impulse, I clicked on the burner account’s profile. A wave of profound, chilling absurdity washed over me. This devoted, romantic man was Eric, my fiancé. I stared at the screen, and the love I had clung to so desperately for five years suddenly evaporated. If I can’t have what I want, then I don’t want it at all. ……….. The video’s likes kept climbing. Soon, someone dug up information on Eric’s account. “WHOA! I know these two! Eric was so good to Molly!” “They were high school sweethearts until their sophomore year of college and almost never fought! He would’ve given her the moon and stars! We were all so jealous!” “I think they broke up because Eric’s parents didn’t approve!” “But I heard Eric has a girlfriend of five years now. They were set up, I think. It’s not about love, just about being ‘suitable.’” As I read that last comment, the show I was watching cut to a “subscribe now” screen. It hit me then. Eric had forgotten to renew my subscription. Again. He could remember to pay for his ex-girlfriend’s for five years straight, but he couldn’t remember mine. My knuckles whitened around my phone. A tight knot formed in my chest, making it hard to breathe. The comment was right, in a way. From Eric’s perspective, we were set up. What he didn’t know was that I’d been in love with him for years before that. When we met on that setup, I was so thrilled that we set a wedding date almost immediately. I kept telling myself that, given time, love would grow between us. But now, I could see I was only fooling myself. The front door clicked open. Eric walked in, his brow furrowed with a familiar weariness when he saw I was still awake. “I wasn’t looking at my phone, that’s why I didn’t reply to your messages.” Normally, I would have just shaken my head and said it was okay, that I understood how hard he worked. But his comment on that video was posted just a few minutes ago. He was replying to people attacking his ex right before he walked through the door. Meanwhile, our chat history was a sea of one-sided green bubbles. My messages, unanswered. I looked up at his face, his expression as blank as always, and spoke softly. “You forgot to renew the subscription again. I had to sit through a 30-second ad just to watch my show.” He paused, a flicker of annoyance in his eyes. “Can’t you just pay for it yourself?” His voice was sharp. “I’m swamped with work. Do you really expect me to keep track of whether your streaming service is active?” A familiar wave of sadness washed over me, but this time, it was followed by a bitter, hollow smile. The same excuse. It was the reason he forgot our anniversary, the reason he missed meetings with our parents, the reason he had zero involvement in planning our wedding. I used to be naive enough to believe he was genuinely that busy. Now I knew the truth. He didn’t have time for me because he didn’t love me. So this time, I didn’t argue. I didn’t fight. I just nodded calmly. “Fine.” “I’ll pay for the subscription myself. And you don’t need to show up for the wedding.” Eric stared at me, stunned. The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them. “What are you talking about?” Our eyes met. There was no panic in his gaze, only irritation. The last shred of hope in my heart withered and died. Before I could answer, he sneered. “You’re breaking up with me because I forgot to pay for your streaming subscription?” “Audrey, you’re becoming more and more unreasonable.” He sighed, exasperated. “Whatever.” He turned and strode into the bedroom, slamming the door so hard the walls shook. I stood frozen for a long time, then wiped the cold tears from my face. A moment later, I heard his voice from the balcony, his tone casual as he spoke on the phone. “Yeah, we had another fight.” “Don’t worry, Mom. The wedding is still on. She’ll get over it in a couple of days. It’s been the same for five years, hasn’t it?” My hands clenched into fists, then relaxed. I picked up my phone, a self-mocking laugh escaping my lips. I canceled the wedding. Then, I booked a one-way ticket to California. 2 We slept in separate rooms that night. It was the first time after a fight that I didn’t grovel for forgiveness. Eric seemed thrown off by it. The next morning, he looked at me with disbelief. “You didn’t make me breakfast?” I nodded, my voice flat. “I have to get to work, too. I don’t have time to cook for two.” He stared at me for a moment, then let out a short, harsh laugh. “Fine, Audrey. Have it your way. Keep playing these games.” He slammed the door on his way out, and a faint scent of cologne lingered in the air. It was a scent I didn’t recognize. In the five years we’d been together, he had never once worn cologne. He must have had an important date. I forced down the lump in my throat and went to the office, where I submitted my transfer papers. The relocation to the head office would be effective in three days. That evening, my colleagues insisted on a team dinner to celebrate my promotion. Halfway through the meal, I got a text from Eric. “Working late tonight. Don’t wait up.” I didn’t reply. I stepped out to use the restroom. As I was drying my hands, ready to head back, I heard a roar of laughter and cheers from the private room next to ours. “I can’t believe we’re seeing Eric and Molly together again after five years! My ship is sailing again!” My feet stopped moving. I peered through the crack in the door, and the blood in my veins turned to ice. Eric was sitting next to Molly, and they were both smiling. Genuinely smiling. It was a look I had never once seen on his face when he was with me. A soft, delicate female voice drifted out. “Don’t say that. Your girlfriend will get upset if she hears you.” Molly turned to Eric, her expression a perfect picture of innocent concern. “Does your fiancée know you’re out with us tonight? Why didn’t she come?” Before he could answer, one of his friends scoffed. “Please. Don’t call her that. If it wasn’t for Eric’s mom insisting on this match, she wouldn’t even be in the picture.” “Molly, you know Eric has been waiting for you all these years.” “Why do you think he’s been working himself to the bone? To get out from under his mom’s thumb so he could finally marry you, of course! Hahaha!” I blinked hard, forcing back the sting in my eyes. Eric just sat there, smiling, saying nothing. His silence was an admission. I remembered all the times his coldness had made me want to give up. But then there was that one night, after he’d been drinking, when he held me tight, his eyes red-rimmed, and swore to me. “The reason I’m working so hard is to give you a better life.” Lost in thought, I didn’t notice the door in front of me swing open. Molly stood there, her face a mask of feigned surprise. A knowing smile played on her lips. “Oh, excuse me, ma’am? Are you with the waitstaff? We don’t need anything in our room right now, thanks.” The room behind her went quiet for a beat, then erupted in jeering laughter. “Hahahaha, Molly, you’re so cute! That’s Eric’s girlfriend.” “Well, I mean, Molly’s not wrong, is she? Audrey is basically the Reed family’s servant.” They didn’t even bother to hide their contempt anymore, their laughter dripping with malice. In their eyes, I was just some pathetic woman who had managed to snag Eric by sucking up to his mother. My nails dug into my palms, the sharp pain the only thing keeping me from turning and running. Molly gave a sheepish little laugh. “Oh, Audrey, I’m so sorry. Did you come here because you saw my video?” I frowned, confused. She pulled out her phone, opened her profile, and showed me her latest post: a photo of her and Eric, smiling together. I shook my head. “I haven’t seen—” Before I could finish, Molly tapped on the viral video from the night before, her eyes wide with faux innocence. “Last night, I set this video so that only you could see it, Audrey.” She tilted her head. “And overnight, the view count went from a hundred thousand to a hundred and ten thousand.” “Were you watching it all night? I hope it didn’t keep you from getting any sleep!” 3 For a moment, my mind went completely blank. It felt like a giant hand was squeezing my throat, choking the words before they could form. A hot wave of shame washed over me as the laughter from the room grew louder. My feet felt like they were nailed to the floor. Just then, Eric stood up and walked over. He playfully tapped Molly on the nose, a fond, exasperated smile on his face. “Playing your little tricks again?” Molly laughed, carefree and triumphant. “It’s fun, isn’t it?” She turned back to me. “For five years, I’ve posted so many videos that only he could see. And he’s watched every single one hundreds of times.” She put on a concerned face. “Oh, Audrey, please don’t get the wrong idea. I only posted that video to reminisce a little. Eric and I are just good friends now—” Before she could finish, Eric glanced at me and cut her off, his voice flat. “Don’t bother explaining. People with dirty minds see dirt everywhere. She’s throwing a fit over a single video.” I watched them, a perfectly rehearsed duo, my body rigid. From behind me, I heard a familiar voice. “Audrey? What are you doing here?” One of my colleagues had come to find me. “Hey, isn’t that your boyfriend? Does he know you’re about to—” “Let’s go back,” I said, cutting her off and turning away. Molly hurried after us. “We were just leaving, too! Let’s go together!” She got to the front desk before we did and paid for our table. I tried to stop her, but she just turned and beamed at me. “It’s okay! I’m just using the supplementary card Eric gave me, hahaha!” My mind flashed back to the day I’d playfully asked him to add me as an authorized user to his account. He’d shaken his head, his face a blank mask. “A supplementary card? What’s that? I don’t know how to do it.” “If you need money, I’ll just transfer it to you.” At the time, I thought he was just a typical, clueless guy. It turned out he knew exactly how to do it. He’d just already done it for someone else. I nodded, said nothing, and walked out. It was hard to get a cab on a cold winter night. One by one, my colleagues found rides and left, while I stared at the rideshare app on my phone. 100 drivers ahead of me. Just then, a sleek, black Bentley pulled up to the curb. Molly smiled and opened the passenger door, then paused dramatically. “Oh, I almost forgot! Audrey, you first!” I looked at Eric, who refused to meet my eyes. My voice was barely a whisper. “You told me your father died in a car crash. You said you were too traumatized to ever drive.” Molly looked from me to him, her expression one of theatrical disbelief. “Eric, you really told her that?” I was completely lost. She explained with a long-suffering sigh. “Five years ago, when we were dating, I didn’t want him giving rides to other girls, so I told him to make up that lie. Hahaha, that way everyone would think he didn’t have a car and couldn’t drive them.” She shook her head, as if in pity. “I can’t believe he never told you after five years together. His father died of natural causes. There was no car crash.” Eric looked away, a flicker of guilt on his face. “I just forgot to tell you I had a car. I don’t drive it much.” He cleared his throat. “Molly lives on the south side, it’s out of the way. You should just get a cab home.” Molly gave me a quick, insincere “sorry” and hopped happily into the car. The Bentley sped off, leaving me choking on a cloud of exhaust fumes. As if on cue, the sky opened up. A cold, hard rain began to fall on the normally dry city. The restaurant staff locked the doors, leaving me with nowhere to shelter. The cold seeped into my bones, and the pain became a dull, spreading numbness. I stood there, drenched to the skin, for two hours before I finally got a ride home. Eric wasn’t back yet. His mother, however, had been texting me nonstop, asking how the plans for the wedding in two days were coming along. After a moment of hesitation, I told her the truth. Minutes later, my phone rang. It was Eric, his voice seething with rage. “Audrey, are you insane?!” “What the hell do you think you’re doing, dragging my mother into your little tantrum?” “Now she knows about Molly, and she’s demanding I cut off all contact with her! She even called Molly and screamed at her!” “Have you completely lost your mind?!”

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After I found out my husband, Finn, was cheating on me. To get back at him. I went out with no less than 10 different men in six months. The night I broke up with number 10, a sweet college kid. I asked Finn for a divorce. “Oh, darling.” “How many times have we been here?” Finn finally looked up from his phone. “What’s the matter? Not happy with the latest boyfriend?” He smirked, a cruel little twist of his lips. “Did he disappoint you so much that my usually placid wife has to come bother me with her little tantrums?” He laughed and reached for his jacket. “I’m afraid I don’t have time for this, darling. I have plans tonight.” I stared at him, still trying to understand. How could a man separate love and sex so completely, as if they were two different countries with a hard border between them? “Finn,” I said, stepping in his way and holding out the divorce papers. My voice was calm. “I’m serious.” “Let’s just let each other go.” 1 “Darling.” Finn’s expression was still infuriatingly casual. “I really don’t have time to play these games with you.” He held up his phone, showing me his open messaging app. “The kid’s going to get upset.” He smiled, but the warmth didn’t reach his eyes. “And you know how it is. She’s not easy to placate.” The screen showed a profile picture. It was one half of a matching set. His was the other half. The girl was complaining, sending an angry emoji. [How much longer do you have to spend with that old hag?] [You said she had a boyfriend now anyway. Or have you decided you prefer older women after all? Are you trying to patch things up with her?] She was shamelessly mocking my age. Finn just thought it was cute. He typed back: [Don’t be jealous.] Suddenly, a video call notification popped up on his screen. The jarring ringtone shattered the tense silence between us. Finn gestured to his phone. “See, darling? I’m a very busy man.” He answered the call, right there in front of me. The girl’s voice was a playful pout. “Finn. I’m already at your gate.” “I’ll give you three seconds.” “If you don’t come out.” “We’re breaking up!” I listened to her confident, demanding tone and watched the flicker of annoyance on Finn’s face melt back into a fond smile. “You little troublemaker.” His voice was a low murmur, meant only for her. “My wife’s home, you know. Aren’t you afraid she’ll come after you with a kitchen knife?” “And if she does, don’t you dare come crying to me.” He was flirting with her, right in front of me, as if I wasn’t even there. The girl on the phone just laughed. “You wouldn’t let her.” “You promised you’d protect me!” I knew what I was supposed to do. I was supposed to stay silent. I was supposed to let him leave, to give him his space. Everyone told me the same thing: as long as I was Mrs. Thorne, I would have a life of unimaginable luxury. I would want for nothing. My mother, who was seriously ill in the hospital, would continue to receive the best possible care. But I just couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t stand it for one more second. I snatched the phone from his hand. His eyes widened in shock as I spoke into the receiver. “You’re right. The wife is very mean. If you dare set foot inside this house, I’ll make sure you’re carried out.” I ignored the girl’s shrieks on the other end, her accusations that I was shameless. I smashed the phone on the ground, strode to the front door, and threw it open. The girl stood there, her face red with fury. I raised my hand and slapped her, hard. “Do you know what you are?” My voice was sharp, but my face was a mask of cold calm. “As long as I am in this house, as long as I hold the title of Mrs. Thorne, you are nothing but a cheap little homewrecker.” I grabbed her by the hair and slammed her head against the door. The loud thud was followed by her terrified scream. “You’re crazy!” “Finn!” “Finn! Are you just going to stand there and let her do this to me?!” “Finn!” I raised my hand to strike her again. A hand shot out and grabbed my wrist. From behind me, I heard Finn’s voice, a lazy drawl that was somehow both amused and threatening. “Darling. Don’t you think you’re being a little… undignified?” 2 His voice was still light, still laced with that mocking amusement. But I heard the warning underneath. “The kid is at an age where looks are everything,” Finn said. “If you mess up that pretty face of hers, you’ll be the one who has to deal with the consequences. Why make things harder on yourself?” His tone was casual, but his grip on my wrist tightened, forcing me to let the girl go. “Let’s just say the kid was being impulsive tonight and overstepped,” he continued, his gaze shifting to me, his eyes hardening. “But if there’s a next time, darling… my patience has its limits.” I watched as he gathered the sobbing girl into his arms, murmuring comforting words. “It’s okay.” “Shh, you’re okay.” She clung to him, her tears soaking his shirt. He lifted her into his arms as if she weighed nothing and turned to leave. But I called out to him. “Finn.” He didn’t stop. I ran after him, blocking his path. “If you really like her,” I said, my eyes on the girl’s tear-streaked face, “then you should make it official.” I leaned in and whispered in her ear, my voice a soft poison. “It’s not me who won’t step aside.” “It’s your dear Finn who refuses to let me go and make room for you. If you’re really so special,” I said, my voice dropping, “then you get him to agree. Just like he did for me, all those years ago. You make him bring you into the Thorne family.” The girl’s body went rigid. Her expression changed. She looked up at Finn, her eyes wide and uncertain. Finn sighed, a long, weary sound, and gently set her down. He walked over to me. “Chloe.” His voice was cold. “Don’t regret this.” He took the divorce papers from my hand and signed his name on the dotted line. Then he turned back to the girl, his voice soft again. “Happy now?” Tears of joy streamed down her face. She threw her arms around him, but her eyes were on me, a silent, triumphant challenge. She had won. I didn’t look at either of them. The enormous weight that had been crushing my chest for so long had finally lifted. I couldn’t name the feeling. I just sat in the empty villa, watching as the movers carefully packed up every trace of me. My phone buzzed. It was a video from Finn’s new fiancée. In the video, Finn was on one knee, kissing her hand, his expression as reverent as if he were holding the most precious treasure in the world. “Lily,” he was saying. “My love for you isn’t just words.” “You wanted a grand gesture, a promise. I’m willing to give you all of it. So,” he said, pulling out a diamond the size of a pigeon’s egg and slipping it onto her finger, “are you happy now?” Lily was crying and laughing at the same time. She sent me a text. [Chloe, everyone talks about how much Finn loved you. How he defied his entire family just to marry you. How he knelt in the family shrine for seven days without food or water, even endured the family punishment, just to get them to agree.] [And your mother, the one who’s barely hanging on? The only reason she’s still alive is because Finn hired the best team of specialists in the country for her.] [But here’s something you don’t know.] She sent another video. [It’s not what you think.] The video was dark, filmed in the private club Finn always went to. I recognized the faces of the men with him. I heard someone ask, “Finn, what’s the deal with you and Chloe? This has gotten messy.” Finn sat in the middle of the group, toying with his wedding ring. The man continued. “Chloe’s been running around town with at least five different pretty boys. Aren’t you worried she’ll catch something? That she’s… dirty?” “She’s out of control. And you’re just going to let it happen?”

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1 Just after our son’s hundred-day celebration, my husband of seven years asked me, with a faint smile, “What do you think about a man having two wives?” Before I could respond, my stepsister Sophie entered, holding a three-year-old boy’s hand. Nicholas had invited them. “This is my son with Sophie,” he said calmly. He explained they had been together for four years. “I know you resent Sophie because of your mother, so I kept them hidden out of consideration for you. Now, I want them by my side openly.” As I trembled, he continued, “Be generous. Don’t interfere when I’m with them on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays.” His tone turned cold. “Or, you can divorce me. Our baby stays. But if I stop caring for you, I can’t promise to care for the child you gave me.” He looked at my pale face and asked casually, “So, have you decided?” … My throat was so tight it ached. I stood there, stiff as a board, and asked mechanically, “Why did you have to tell me today?” Just hours ago, at the party, he had kissed me with such joy, thanking me for giving him a beautiful son. Nicholas sighed. “Honestly, I was planning to hide this from you forever.” “But the day you went into labor… I was with Sophie and Liam, picking out a puppy.” My eyes, sore and dry, blinked slowly. I remembered. That day, I was on the delivery table, writhing in the agony of contractions. The nurses called him again and again, but his phone was off. I told myself he was tied up with a difficult client. Though I was terrified, I summoned the last of my strength and signed the consent forms myself. His voice was a soft whisper, as gentle as the sweet nothings he used to murmur in my ear. “Do you know what I was thinking? When I got back to the hospital and saw you, saw how you’d nearly died giving me a child… I actually felt a pang of pity. For Sophie.” I stared at him in disbelief, certain I had misheard. “I was dying… and you felt sorry for her?” Nicholas nodded. “I felt sorry that Sophie had to give me Liam without any recognition, that she had to hide our relationship for four years. I felt like I owed her.” My nails dug deep into my palms. I fought to hold back the flood of tears, my voice choked with bitterness. “You know my mother was driven to jump from a building because of Sophie and her mother. Why, of all people, did you have to cheat on me with her?” Nicholas glanced at Sophie, a look of helplessness on his face. “What could I do? My mother dislikes you, and you could never manage your relationship with her. I was stuck in the middle, torn apart.” “Only when I’m with Sophie can I forget all my troubles.” It was true his mother didn’t like me. For six years of our marriage, I couldn’t get pregnant. She found fault with everything I did. Every time we visited the family estate, she’d pick on me, even making me kneel in the old family chapel as punishment. Nicholas would always comfort me afterward, telling me how much it hurt him to see me suffer. But I went through six rounds of IVF for him. I endured countless injections, my stomach a canvas of purple bruises, and never once complained. I risked my life to give him a child. And all this time, while he watched me suffer, he was off somewhere in a world I couldn’t see, playing happy family with Sophie and their son. A giant fist clenched around my heart, squeezing the air from my lungs. I gasped for breath. Nicholas’s eyes tightened, and he moved to hold me. “Amelia, if you can accept this arrangement, you don’t have to leave.” The dam of my emotions finally broke. I shoved him away, hard, and slapped him across the face. “Have you forgotten what you promised me?” Before the words were even out of my mouth, a force slammed into me, sending me sprawling to the floor. Pain exploded behind my eyes, and my vision went black for a second. Through the ringing in my ears, I heard Sophie’s tearful voice. “Amelia, Nicholas has already sacrificed so much for you these past four years! He loves you so much, why can’t you be more understanding?” “Or is it that you only love yourself? You never cared about what Nicholas needs, did you?” The man who had sworn to protect me for life had cheated on me with my own father’s illegitimate daughter. They had a secret child, forced me into the same impossible choice my mother faced, and now they were asking me to be understanding? The cruelty was breathtaking. A hysterical laugh, laced with tears, escaped my lips. Nicholas froze, reaching for me before his face hardened with impatience. “Just think about it. Let me know what you decide.” He took Sophie and their son by the hand and left, the slam of the door echoing like a gunshot. Our sleeping baby, startled awake, began to wail, his cries piercing the sudden silence. The sound, mixed with the bone-deep agony in my heart, was like a knife twisting in my gut. I held my son and wept, completely lost. After the chaos subsided, I had barely caught my breath when my phone rang. It was Nicholas. His voice was low, laced with anger. “Amelia, who gave you the right to tell my mother about Sophie and Liam?” “It wasn’t me…” He cut me off sharply. “Get over to the estate right now and calm her down. If you can’t learn how to be a proper wife in this family, then you can forget about raising our son, too.” The phone shook in my hand. Right after our son was born, his mother had tried to take him away to be raised at the estate. It was Nicholas who, seeing my heartbreak, had physically blocked the bodyguards she’d sent. “He is my son,” he had declared. “No one has the right to raise him but Amelia.” Now, for Sophie, he was using our child as a weapon against me. Nicholas had already betrayed me; I couldn’t lose my son too. Wiping my tears, I handed the baby to the nanny and rushed to the family estate. In the old chapel, Sophie sat to one side, holding her son. The moment I walked in, my mother-in-law slapped me across the face. “Nicholas knelt in this chapel for three days and three nights to get my permission to marry you,” she hissed. “I thought you had some substance. I can’t believe he could have an affair with an illegitimate girl and father a bastard child right under your nose without you noticing. Are you trying to bring utter disgrace to this family?” When my father brought Sophie and her mother home, my own mother didn’t throw them out. Instead, she threw herself from the top floor of our house. My mother-in-law always thought my mother was weak, and by extension, she looked down on me. But I never imagined she would blame me for Nicholas’s affair. Nicholas glanced at me, then turned to his mother. “Didn’t you used to complain that Amelia couldn’t give you a grandchild? I just gave you one ahead of schedule. What’s so bad about that?” His voice was nonchalant, as if he’d done something commendable. Then, he shot me a cold smirk. “You made this mess, Mrs. Hayes. You fix it.” “As long as we are married, it is your duty to please my mother and solve my problems.” Sophie moved to his side, linking her arm through his. She looked at me with triumph in her eyes. “Oh, Amelia, I’m just a simple girl. I’m not very good at handling these complicated family dynamics. I’ll be counting on you from now on.” “Unless… you’re no longer part of this family.” I bit the inside of my cheek, my eyes locked on Nicholas. I knew, rationally, that I shouldn’t cling to a man who no longer loved me. But I couldn’t let my son end up like me, living at the mercy of a stepmother. “Don’t you dare think I’ll make this easy for you, Nicholas.” As long as we were married, Sophie and her son would never be officially recognized. Sophie’s taunt enraged my mother-in-law. She ordered the bodyguards to force Sophie to her knees. “If you want to enter this family, you’ll take ninety-nine lashes first. We’ll see if our ancestors approve.” My mother-in-law despised Sophie, and I should have felt a flicker of satisfaction. But what Nicholas did next nearly made me lose control. He kicked away the two bodyguards and wrapped Sophie in a protective embrace. He shot a look at his mother, but his final, disgusted gaze landed on me. “It’s just ninety-nine lashes. I’ll take them for her.” “But after this, Sophie is to be allowed to come and go from this house as she pleases.” Every crack of the whip on Nicholas’s back felt like a sharp blade carving into my own heart. In our third year of marriage, after two failed IVF attempts, my mother-in-law grew furious. She claimed the family ancestors disliked me and dragged me to the chapel to be whipped ninety-nine times to atone for my “sin.” Terrified, I had huddled in Nicholas’s arms, trembling. I selfishly wanted him to fight for me, just as he had fought to marry me. But he had only kissed my forehead and whispered, “Amelia, I know she’s just letting off steam. For our future, please, just endure it.” Then, the guards pulled me from his arms. Before him and the entire family, I took every single lash. The last thing I remembered before passing out was the raw, searing pain of torn flesh that seemed to penetrate my very bones. The memory of my own blood merged with the horrific sight of the blood now on Nicholas. It was like a vicious slap, leaving my cheeks burning with shame. With nine lashes left, his mother couldn’t bring herself to continue. She looked at Sophie, but before she could speak, Nicholas’s weak voice cut through the air. “Let Amelia take the last nine.” My blood ran cold. Me? Take them for her? Pain contorted Nicholas’s face, sweat beading on his forehead, but he managed a faint smile. “Amelia, Sophie was raised delicately by her parents. She can’t even handle a single lash. But you’re different. You took all ninety-nine last time. You can definitely handle nine.” When I didn’t move, his expression darkened. “If you can’t even do this much to help your husband, then maybe you shouldn’t be raising our son after all.” I staggered back, a smile more painful than tears spreading across my face. To keep my son, I endured nine more lashes. I thought my submission would be met with some decency, but Nicholas went on to have Sophie’s son officially added to the family registry. I hated him. I hated him for no longer loving me yet dragging me into this impossible situation. I hated him for turning my son, barely a hundred days old, into a laughingstock for the sake of his other child. I cast aside my dignity as his wife and leaked the story of him and Sophie to the media. But since he was already planning to go public, my actions only made them more brazen. I became the joke of our social circle. Furious and out of my mind, I wrote a long, detailed post exposing how Sophie and her mother had driven my own mother to her death. But before I could post it, Nicholas intercepted it. To punish me, he threw a lavish, high-profile party to officially introduce Sophie’s son to our circle. For reasons I couldn’t understand, his mother didn’t object. On the day of the party, I locked myself and my son in our home. For his sake, I wanted to stop fighting. But Sophie wouldn’t let me. She sent me a video. In it, Nicholas held her tightly, their kiss passionate and desperate. His heavy breathing was disgustingly loud. A text followed: “Nicholas said that even if you two divorce, I won’t ever have to feel wronged in front of his mother again.” My fists clenched. What about all the times I had been wronged? Then came another picture, this one of her son. It shattered the last remnants of my sanity. Around the boy’s neck was my locket. It was the one my mother left me, the one I had placed around my own son’s neck. I stormed into the party. I ignored the mocking, pitying stares and walked straight up to Nicholas. The moment he saw me, a satisfied smile spread across his face. “Amelia, so you’ve finally come to your senses…” “Give me back my locket.” I cut him off, my voice shaking. “That was from my mother. What right do you have to give it to someone else?” As I said it, I felt myself breaking. After my mother died, Sophie had snatched that locket from me once before. I had cried and begged for it back, but my father had beaten me severely and locked me in a dark closet for a day and a night without food. When Nicholas, not yet twelve years old, found out, he stormed into my house and set a fire. He was just a kid, but he stabbed my father three times. He got the locket back and warned Sophie with a chilling ferocity that if she ever touched my things again, he’d stab her next. Sophie had fainted from fear. But eighteen years later, she hadn’t just stolen him from me. Now, all she had to do was say she wanted something of mine, and he would take it for her. Nicholas pulled Sophie and her son behind him protectively. He stared at me, his voice cold. “It’s just a locket. What does it matter who wears it? Besides, Liam can call you ‘mother’ too. What’s wrong with giving it to him?” His entitled tone destroyed my last shred of self-control. “I am not his mother, and I will not give my son’s things to a bastard.” At that, the little boy lunged at me, his small fists pounding against the still-tender scar from my C-section. Pain shot through me, and I instinctively raised my hand. But before I could touch him, Nicholas shoved me violently. I stumbled backward, the back of my head cracking against the sharp corner of a table. An explosion of agony, and then darkness. The last thing I heard before the world went black was Nicholas screaming my name in terror. When I opened my eyes again, Nicholas was sitting by my hospital bed, his expression weary. Seeing me awake, a flicker of irritation crossed his face, and his first words were a reprimand. “Look at you. You don’t look like the wife of a magnate at all, fighting with a child over a trinket in front of everyone.” A bitter smile touched my lips. I said nothing. He seemed to lose interest and left after muttering a few more words. I didn’t see him for two days. On the third day, Sophie came. She was toying with the locket, an amused look on her face as she tossed it onto my bed. “Making such a scene over a piece of metal, getting yourself all banged up. Too bad it still belongs to my son in the end, doesn’t it?” My fingers froze. The numbness that had enveloped me began to recede. “What are you talking about?”

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1 Two years after my husband vanished, presumed dead, I sold everything for his mother’s medical bills. It wasn’t enough. On the day of her funeral, he returned. Seeing the sales contracts and her urn, he didn’t look at me with love, but with pure hatred. “I gave you my world, Sarah. The moment I was gone, you sold everything and let my mother die alone.” He never let me explain. The man I knew died that day, replaced by a cold playboy. He spent lavishly on other women but wouldn’t spare a dollar for the medicine I needed. When I was diagnosed, I bought myself a simple urn with my last money. He laughed and gave it to his new girlfriend for her dog’s water bowl. Seeing that, I didn’t break. I smiled. He looked confused. “Tired of playing the victim? Trying a new tactic?” he sneered. … A ripple of laughter went through the room from his latest conquest. I just shook my head, my smile never wavering. “No,” I said, my voice calm and clear. “I’m just grateful. You’ve finally allowed my heart to die completely. Now I can leave with no attachments.” Hearing that, Declan’s gaze turned to ice. “Leave?” He scoffed. “Sarah, you’re an orphan. You have no one. You’ve only survived this long because of me. Without me, without the Blackwood name, where could you possibly go?” I listened to his contemptuous words and felt nothing. I offered no defense. I simply turned and walked toward the small, forgotten room he’d relegated me to, the one he used for storage. As I reached the door, a searing pain ripped through my lungs. I stumbled, gripping the doorframe, biting my lip so hard I tasted blood to keep from coughing. Behind me, his girlfriend’s voice dripped with saccharine poison. “Declan, darling, look at her. She’s such a mess, it’s depressing. Let’s just go upstairs and watch a movie.” Declan let out an impatient sigh. “Fine. Let’s go. Don’t let her ruin the evening.” Their footsteps faded as they headed upstairs. I shuffled into the small room, each step an agony. I collapsed onto the old, lumpy mattress, curling into a ball as pain radiated through me. It felt like my bones were being pulled apart and crudely snapped back together. Every movement was a fresh wave of torture. There was no point in asking him for help again. I’d tried, just last week. The pain had been unbearable, and I had dragged myself into the living room where he was lounging on the sofa, feeding slices of mango to his flavor of the week. “Declan,” I’d hesitated, my voice barely a whisper. “I’m in so much pain. Could you… could you spare some money for painkillers?” He’d glanced up, a mocking smirk on his face. “Faking an illness for attention again? Sarah, you’ve played this card a thousand times. Can’t you come up with something new?” The girl beside him giggled, covering her mouth. “Declan, I think she’s just jealous seeing us so happy. She’s trying to make you feel sorry for her.” Declan pulled out his wallet, peeled off a thick wad of cash, and threw it on the floor. “You want money? There it is. Kneel and pick it up. Every bill you grab is yours.” I didn’t kneel. I just swallowed the pain and the humiliation, turned around, and walked back to my storage room. From that day on, I never asked him for another cent. As night deepened, the pain intensified until I couldn’t bear it. I fumbled under the mattress for my savings. Seventy-three dollars and fifty cents. It was all I had left, scraped together from the meager food budget I allowed myself. I hadn’t eaten a proper meal in days. Swallowing solid food was like swallowing glass, so I’d been living on thin broth, just enough to keep me alive. Seventy-three dollars and fifty cents. Not even enough for a single dose of the good painkillers. Just then, I heard footsteps outside my door, followed by the sound of laughter. I quickly shoved the small bundle of cash back under the bed and curled up in the corner, feigning sleep. It was Tiffany’s cloying voice. “Declan, is that sick little thing still here? Isn’t she just taking up space?” Declan’s voice was laced with annoyance. “Let her stay. It’s not like she can do anything.” Tiffany whined, “But I don’t like her. Having her around just gives me the creeps.” Declan chuckled, his tone shifting to one of indulgence. “Shh, baby. Just ignore her. Let’s go upstairs.” But she wasn’t done. “No, I mean it! I’m bringing my dog over tomorrow, and I don’t want her scaring him.” Declan sighed, a sound of weary surrender. “Alright, alright, whatever you want. Bring the dog tomorrow. He can have the whole yard to himself.” Their voices and footsteps receded down the hall until there was only silence. I knew he didn’t really not care. He kept me here for a reason. He wanted to watch me suffer, to see me waste away in this dark corner like a stray dog. He wanted to see me broken and full of regret. He was convinced I couldn’t live without him, that I was clinging to the Blackwood family for money and status. He believed my entire life, my every action, was just a performance. 2 By the time the pain subsided to a dull ache, the sky was already turning a pale grey. I pulled an old tin box from beneath my bed, a secret I had guarded for a long time. Inside were the small trinkets Declan had given me before he disappeared. The stubs from our first movie date. We sat in the back row, and he’d secretly taken my hand in the dark. He had leaned in, his breath warm against my ear as he whispered, “Sarah, I promise I’m going to give you the best life. I’ll give you everything.” A faded photograph of the ugliest cake imaginable. He had tried to bake it for my birthday himself. The frosting was lumpy, the fruit was sliding off one side. “It’s one-of-a-kind, Sarah. Just for you.” He hadn’t had money for a fancy cake back then, so he’d spent the entire afternoon destroying the kitchen to make me one. I stared at these relics, a familiar warmth spreading behind my eyes, but there was no hope left in my heart. For a year, during his absence, these things had been my lifeline. I’d look at them every single day, praying he was still alive somewhere, imagining how he would hold me and soothe my pain when he finally came home. But when he came home, all he saw were sales contracts and an urn. He didn’t want an explanation. He only believed the story he saw with his own eyes. He had decided I was a gold-digger who had stolen everything and left his mother to die. Suddenly, the door was kicked open with a deafening crash. I jumped, and the photograph slipped from my fingers, fluttering to the floor. Declan stood in the doorway, his face a thunderous mask. He reeked of whiskey, and his eyes held a vicious glint I’d never seen before. His gaze fell to the open box in my hands, then to the scattered tickets and the photo on the floor. The coldness in his eyes deepened into a glacial frost. He strode into the room, snatched the tin box from my grasp, and slammed it onto the ground. Its contents scattered across the dirty floor. The ticket stubs were crumpled, and he brought his heel down on the photograph, grinding it into the floorboards. A sharp sting went through my chest as I watched my memories being destroyed. But my face remained a blank canvas. I just looked at him. He sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. “What’s this? Taking a trip down memory lane with this junk? Trying to make me feel sorry for you?” Looking at his twisted, hateful face, I felt a strange sense of release. All the sweet memories that had been carved into my soul, the hope that had carried me through countless nights of despair—it was all a joke. I shook my head slowly. “None of this matters anymore. I just want you to leave me in peace for my final days.” Declan looked at me as if I’d told the world’s most absurd joke and let out a harsh, barking laugh. “Your final days? You really commit to the act, don’t you? What’s the endgame here, a big fat severance check?” He looked down at me, his lip curled. “Name your price. How much will it take for you to get out of my house and out of my life? I’ll give you enough to live comfortably for the rest of your miserable years.” I didn’t answer him. I just slowly knelt and began to gather the scattered pieces of my past. 3 The movie stubs were torn. The photograph was cracked. I picked up the fragments, one by one, and placed them back into the dented tin box. The pain in my lungs flared again, sharper this time. I clenched my jaw, refusing to let him see me cough. Declan watched me, his frown deepening. “What game are you playing now, Sarah? Do you think this pathetic display will make me pity you?” “You know exactly what you did!” he roared. “It was always about the money, wasn’t it? Is money really that important to you?” I ignored him, continuing my quiet task. Suddenly, he lunged forward and kicked the box out of my hands. “Stop picking up that trash! It should have been thrown out years ago.” I looked up at him, my voice eerily calm. “Declan, you win.” “You succeeded in making me love you, and you succeeded in making me fall out of love.” He froze, clearly not expecting those words. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. “What did you say?” I pushed myself to my feet, the pain so intense I couldn’t stand up straight. I remained hunched over, my body trembling. “I won’t ask you for another penny. I won’t cling to you. And I won’t play the victim anymore.” “I just want to leave. Quietly.” Declan’s expression shifted. “Leave? Where do you think you’re going?” A small, tired smile touched my lips. “Anywhere is better than here. As long as it’s not in the Blackwood house. As long as it’s not near you.” “I’d rather be a nobody in a town where no one knows my name. I’d rather lie on the side of the road than stay by your side for another minute.” He stared at me, a flicker of something—was it panic?—in his eyes. His tone changed abruptly. “You think you can just walk out of here? The gates to this house aren’t a revolving door.” I didn’t reply. I just slowly turned away from him. The wind outside howled, whipping my hair around my face, but I felt lighter than I had in years. I knew I might not make it out of the Blackwood estate. I knew my body was failing. But I didn’t care anymore. When your heart is dead, what’s the difference between living and dying? The burning in my lungs became unbearable. A cough escaped my lips, then another. The metallic taste of blood filled my throat. I pressed a hand to my mouth, but it was too late. A violent spasm wracked my body, and I coughed up blood onto the floor. Declan saw the crimson drops. His pupils constricted in shock. “You’re coughing up blood?” I didn’t turn around. “It’s nothing,” I whispered. He rushed forward, reaching for my arm. “What the hell is wrong with you?” I recoiled from his touch, my voice barely audible but sharp as a razor. “Don’t touch me, Declan. Don’t you dare touch me.” “You’re filthy.” His hand froze in mid-air. The panic in his eyes was undeniable now. “Are you… are you really sick?” I didn’t answer. I just gathered my few belongings. “I have to go.” He hesitated, his gaze flicking between me and the blood on the floor. Just then, Tiffany pranced into the room, her little dog trotting at her heels. In that moment of his indecision, I walked out. A friend found me a small place to stay. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for the time I had left. I started writing my will. I had nothing of value to leave, just a few words I needed to say. 4 Back at the Blackwood mansion, Declan was a storm of restless energy. Ever since I’d left, an unbearable agitation had taken root in his heart. He locked himself in his study, smashing priceless vases against the wall. When Tiffany tried to coax him out, he threw her out of the room without a second thought. He didn’t know what was wrong with him. Something felt profoundly, fundamentally wrong, but a part of him refused to examine it too closely. He had built his entire reality on a single, unwavering belief: I was a greedy, heartless woman who had stolen his fortune and caused his mother’s death. Then he remembered his assistant had organized some old files from that year. He decided to find them, to look at the proof one last time, to solidify his hatred and kill this gnawing uncertainty for good. He searched for what felt like hours before finally locating the correct file. But as he read through the documents—bank transfers, hospital invoices, pharmacy receipts—a cold dread began to creep into his veins. It felt like the very foundation of his world was cracking beneath his feet. Without a moment’s hesitation, he grabbed his car keys and sped to the city hospital. He burst into the office of his mother’s former physician. “Tell me what really happened when my mother was sick,” he demanded. “Sarah… did she use the money from selling my assets to pay for my mother’s treatment?” The doctor looked at Declan, his expression one of pure confusion. “Mr. Blackwood, why are you asking this? Surely you knew how dire your mother’s condition was? She was in the final stages. She could have been gone at any moment. It was your wife, Ms. Sarah, who fought to give her more time. She sold everything she could.” The doctor continued, his voice softening. “I saw her once, in the hospital corridor, eating a dry piece of bread. She was just sitting there, chewing and crying silently. When I asked what was wrong, she just shook her head and said she felt like she’d failed your mother, that she couldn’t make her well again.” “Every single dollar from those sales was wired directly to the hospital’s account to cover medical fees and surgical procedures. As her primary physician, I saw every transaction. If it weren’t for her, your mother would never have held on long enough for you to come back. She would have been gone months earlier.” “Mr. Blackwood, your wife sacrificed everything for your mother, for your family. How could you not know? How could you ever doubt her?” Declan stood frozen, his body rigid, his mind a roaring void. The facts he had clung to, the reasons for his burning hatred, had all just turned to ash. The doctor was still speaking, but the words were a meaningless buzz in Declan’s ears. The world tilted, black spots dancing in his vision. After a long silence, he finally managed to force out a question, his voice a ragged whisper. “Doctor… Sarah… how is she now? Her health?” The doctor’s face fell. He shook his head and let out a heavy sigh. “Ms. Sarah came in for a check-up a while ago. It’s late-stage lung cancer, Mr. Blackwood. She doesn’t have much time left.” “She said she didn’t want treatment. She just wants to live out her final days in peace.”

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On New Year’s Eve, I signed for a package containing a diamond ring. After triple-checking that the recipient’s name was indeed my husband’s, I called out to the delivery driver, confused. “Are you sure this is right? Maybe it’s someone with the same name. I’m already married…” At that exact moment, my husband’s call came through. “Honey,” he started, his voice hesitant. “Did a package arrive by any chance?” Sensing the caution in his tone, I played along. “No, nothing. Were you expecting something?” He let out a visible sigh of relief over the phone. “No, no, I must have been mistaken. Listen, honey, I’m so sorry I have to be out of the country on New Year’s Eve. I promise I’ll make it up to you when I get back!” I hung up. The delivery guy, having double-checked the address on his device, smiled apologetically. “My apologies, ma’am. This is for the apartment upstairs. I delivered it to the wrong floor.” I shook my head, taking the small box from his hand as I stepped into the elevator. “No problem. My friend lives up there. I can take it up for you.” 1 “Hello, you have a package.” My hand was trembling as I pressed the doorbell. A moment later, the door swung open. “Finally, it’s here…” A middle-aged woman smiled as she reached for the box, but her expression froze the instant she looked up and saw my face. “Alice?” Her gasp was drowned out by a wave of cheers and laughter from inside the apartment. I was just as stunned as she was. This was my mother-in-law, the one who was always too sick to visit, who insisted she needed to rest quietly in her hometown. An elegantly dressed woman emerged from the apartment, looking at me curiously. “And who is this?” My mother-in-law was frozen, completely at a loss for words. The other woman sized me up with a thoughtful gaze, then offered a polite smile. “You must be one of Nathan’s friends. Please, come in!” I glanced at his mother before stepping inside, my face a mask of calm. The apartment was filled with Nathaniel’s closest friends and family, all of them busy setting up for a marriage proposal. It was warm, romantic, and decorated with the high-end silk draperies I had custom-ordered for our own home. I took a deep breath and walked further into the room. My mother-in-law, frantic, tried to rush ahead of me to warn the others, but the music was too loud, the younger crowd too caught up in their own excitement to notice her. My eyes swept across the living room, and my heart began to sink like a stone. The carpet was the one I’d had imported from Italy. The limited-edition designer handbags scattered on the coffee table were from my own collection. Even the three-hundred-thousand-dollar watch on the other woman’s wrist was mine. The value of these items alone was enough to warrant a grand larceny charge. My gaze settled on her, and my voice was low and dangerous when I spoke. “I’ve seen you before. You’re the woman in our building who drives the Rolls-Royce.” A flicker of feminine intuition crossed her face. She studied me for a moment, her eyes glancing toward the celebrating group inside. “And you are… which of Nathan’s friends?” she asked, her tone polite but probing. I offered a thin smile. “He must love you very much.” A shy blush colored her cheeks as she nodded, and once the topic of their love was broached, she couldn’t stop herself. “We’ve been together for ten years, ever since high school. And now, this proposal. No matter how busy he is, he comes home to me every single night. He even hand-washes my lingerie.” “His mother feels so sorry for me since my parents passed away. She treats me like her own daughter, coming all the way from her hometown for holidays just so we can be together.” She gestured toward a heart-shaped lunchbox on the kitchen counter. “He says takeout is unhealthy, so he prepares my breakfast for me every morning before he leaves. It’s always waiting for me when I wake up.” The sight of that familiar lunchbox made my world tilt. Nathaniel had a sensitive stomach. I was the one who woke up an hour early every single day to make him a healthy breakfast to take to the office. All this time, he had been giving it to her, passing my love off as his own. Our eight-year relationship also started in high school. When my family’s company was investigated and my life fell apart, he was the one who stood by me without hesitation. He was the one who skipped gatherings with his friends because he wanted to rush home to me. He bought me everything I ever wanted, planned countless romantic surprises. He washed my lingerie by hand, too. Only now did I realize I wasn’t the only one. POP! A volley of confetti cannons exploded by the door, showering the room in glittering paper. The woman snapped out of her reverie and gave me an embarrassed smile. “Oh! Nathan’s changed. He’s coming out! He’s going to propose!” I followed numbly behind her. Through the shimmering cloud of confetti, I saw him. He was wearing the bespoke suit I had bought him, and he took a velvet ring box from his mother’s hand. Completely oblivious to her frantic, warning glances, he turned and walked straight toward the other woman, Isabelle. “Isabelle,” he said, his voice full of emotion. “Will you marry me?” Tears of joy filled her eyes as she threw herself into his arms. “Yes! I’m willing!” Everyone’s attention was on them. The room erupted in whistles and thunderous applause. “Congratulations, Nathan!” “Congrats, man! Eight years of hardship finally paid off! You got the girl and the career!” Hiding behind a large potted plant, I watched as he slid the ring—my ring—onto Isabelle’s finger. The beautiful dream he had built for me shattered into a million irreparable pieces. One of his friends pulled him aside, whispering, “Hey man, what about the woman downstairs?” Nathaniel blew out a stream of smoke, his voice casual and dismissive. “She trusts me completely. She’ll never know.” “And even if she finds out,” he added with a smirk, “what’s a lonely orphan going to do about it?” He turned then, and his eyes met mine. “Al… Alice?” 2 The music screeched to a halt. Friends and family exchanged nervous glances, frozen in place. The smile on Isabelle’s face slowly dissolved as her eyes darted between me and Nathan. “Nathan, who is she?” she asked, tightening her grip on his arm, a clear act of staking her claim. Nathaniel’s lips trembled, but no words came out. My eyes were locked on his. “Go on. Tell her who I am.” “If you won’t, then I will. I’m—” Panic finally seized him. He grabbed my arm, practically dragging me out of the apartment and back to our front door. Inside, he stared at me, his voice tight with tension. “Honey, don’t misunderstand. I can explain.” “Isabelle and I grew up together. She dropped out of school and worked multiple jobs just so I could go to college.” “That was just a teenage crush, not love. You’re the one I love. But… she developed cancer from all the years of overwork. I couldn’t just abandon her.” When I remained silent, he grew more desperate, nearly falling to his knees. “Alice, what I feel for her is just obligation, a debt. I only hid it from you because I didn’t want you to worry.” Seeing the pathetic guilt on his face felt like a cruel joke. I raised my hand and slapped him across the face. He didn’t move, didn’t even flinch, just took the full force of the blow. “You didn’t want me to worry?” I spat. “What about you stealing my things to give to her? I’m calling the police!” Just then, the front door burst open. My mother-in-law stormed in and slapped me just as hard. “How dare you hit my son, you barren hen!” she shrieked. “What man doesn’t have someone on the side these days? He had the decency not to bring her into your home. Didn’t your mother teach you anything? You should be prepared for this!” “My son’s company is successful now. You should be grateful he only has one. Even if he had five others, you’d have to learn to live with it! At the end of the day, you only married him for our money, you shameless gold-digger!” The sting on my cheek was white-hot. I said nothing. I just stared at Nathaniel. To protect his pride, I had handed over the management of my family’s company to him after we got married. Without me, he’d still be a nobody working a nine-to-five job. And the reason we couldn’t conceive wasn’t me. It was his low sperm count. Unsettled by my glare, he shoved his mother out of the room. “Mom, can you please stay out of our business?” He locked the door again. He pulled me into a tight embrace, his voice pleading. “Honey, I was wrong. Hit me, scream at me, do whatever you want.” “I’m just begging you, please don’t hurt Isabelle. She’s in the final stages of cancer. Today’s proposal was just an act, a way to let her go without any regrets.” The thought of his arms having just held her made my stomach turn. I pushed him away with a surge of revulsion, shoving him toward the door. “Don’t touch me! Get out!” Leaning against the closed door, the sobs I had been holding back finally broke free, racking my body in huge, shuddering waves. The day my company was sabotaged, the day my parents were driven to suicide… the coroners had needed help carrying their bodies down six flights of stairs. He had driven through a blizzard, crossing half the state overnight to be there. He had risked his entire career, dealing with the authorities, fighting the legal battles, and arranging their funeral. And during the pandemic, when I had a raging fever, he drove to the next town in the middle of the night just to find me medicine. When I recovered, he got sick. Terrified of infecting me, he—a man obsessed with cleanliness—checked himself into a cheap hotel. Those two acts had been his armor, his immunity from any wrong in my eyes. But what happened today was a betrayal so deep it shattered everything. My mind was a chaotic storm. I wanted to scream, but no sound would come out. Wiping away my tears, I called my lawyer and instructed him to start digging into our finances. His initial response shocked me. “Ms. Shenford, I’m not seeing any transfers from Nathaniel to an Isabelle. Are you sure you’re not mistaken?” I wouldn’t give up. “Mr. Peterson, I need you to do a full asset check. Property, bank accounts, vehicles, commercial real estate, investments—everything in his name. Report it all back to me.” I didn’t sleep a wink. The moment dawn broke, I opened the door. Nathaniel was standing outside, shivering, holding a bag of fresh breakfast. The snow dusting his shoulders was a cruel echo of the night he had rushed to my side. For a moment, I was lost in the memory. He saw me and spoke timidly. “Honey, I waited outside all night. I just went to get your favorite…” I glanced at the bag in his hands. The aroma that usually made my mouth water now just made me feel sick. I ignored him and drove straight to the hospital. An hour later, I walked out with a pregnancy report in my hand. Seeing a young family laughing on the sidewalk, I instinctively touched my flat stomach. I couldn’t bring myself to be ruthless. Isabelle had late-stage cancer, anyway. I could wait. Back at our building, I ran into her at the elevator. Her eyes were red and swollen. The moment she saw me, she quickly hid a trash bag behind her back. But not before I saw a familiar breakfast bag inside. My direct stare made her blush with shame. “He met with me last night,” she said, her voice strained. “We talked all night. It was the first time I learned he was married.” “Don’t worry,” she continued, “I’m moving out today. I would never be the third party who destroys your marriage.” She turned away, wiping a tear from her eye, a bitter smile on her lips. “The breakfast from that shop is my favorite. He insisted on buying it for me when we got back this morning.” “But I didn’t eat it,” she added quickly. “You don’t have to worry.” It was clear she was desperately trying to cling to the last shreds of her pride. A question escaped my lips before I could stop it. “Your illness…” She looked at me, baffled. “What illness?” The world seemed to stop. A lump formed in my throat, and hot tears spilled over, scalding the back of my hand. I went to the building’s security office. I watched the footage from last night: Nathaniel and Isabelle, locked in a passionate kiss right below our apartment. Despair washed over me. The head of security was one of Nathan’s friends. It wasn’t long before my phone rang. Nathan’s voice was frantic, distorted with panic. “Alice, don’t do anything rash! Whatever you do, don’t hurt Isabelle—” I hung up, a dull ringing in my ears. When I got home, my vision swam. The world around me blurred. I don’t know when I passed out. When I woke up, I heard the front door open. I recognized Nathan’s footsteps, and someone else’s. My head was spinning. I couldn’t bear to hear another one of his lies. I stumbled toward the bedroom. Suddenly, Nathaniel lunged at me, his hands closing around my neck. His face was twisted with a terrifying rage. “Alice Shenford,” he snarled. “You hurt Isabelle. Now you’re going to pay.” 3 I was stunned, clawing weakly at his hands. “What are you talking about? I didn’t do anything!” SLAP! Veins bulged on his forehead as he struck me, the sound echoing in the silent apartment. “You called the cops and reported her for theft! You had her dragged away in front of the entire building!” He raked a hand through his hair, his face contorting in fury. He grabbed my shoulders and shook me violently, his voice rising to a roar. “So I cheated! So what?” “She was already leaving! Why did you have to post last night’s security footage online? It went viral, it’s the number one trending topic! How is a woman with her pride supposed to handle that?” “She tried to kill herself! Are you happy now? She’s pregnant with my child!” I froze. I was sure I had seen a used sanitary pad in her trash bag this morning. “That’s impossible, I—” He didn’t give me a chance to explain. He shot a look at the strange men standing behind him. They swarmed me, tying my hands and feet, gagging me with a cloth. They began tearing at my clothes. I struggled, a scream of pure terror trapped in my throat, but it was useless. What shattered me completely was Nathaniel, standing there, ignoring my desperate, muffled pleas, coldly filming the entire thing on his phone. “Alice, you owe this to Isabelle,” he said, his voice flat and detached. “I’m going to use these pictures to bury her scandal online.” “You’re going to stay home for a while. We both need some time to cool off.” He glanced at me one last time, a flicker of conflict in his eyes, before throwing a blanket over my exposed body and leaving. I curled into a ball, my gaze vacant, feeling myself splintering apart. I fought to control the violent shaking of my body, to suppress the agony that threatened to swallow me whole. Just then, my phone buzzed. It was the full financial report from my lawyer. I opened it, and a single glance was enough to break my heart completely. All of my company’s shares had been legally transferred to Nathaniel. For years, under the guise of helping Isabelle start her own business, he had been funneling tens of millions of dollars to her every month through fake corporate transactions. In disbelief, I called Mr. Peterson, my hands trembling. “Ms. Shenford, there’s no mistake. The share transfer agreement was signed by you. It was during that period when you were ill, right after you lost your parents.” I slumped to the floor, a wave of regret so powerful I wanted to strangle myself. During that dark time, I had no will to manage the company. I had signed every document Nathaniel put in front of me without even reading it. Suddenly, a breaking news alert popped up on my phone. Nathaniel was standing in front of my company’s building with a newly discharged Isabelle. “I’ve called this press conference today to make one thing clear,” he announced to the swarm of reporters. “Isabelle is not the third party who destroyed my marriage!” “She is the love of my life, and this company is my wedding gift to her!” With that, he played the obscene video of me on a large screen for all the world to see. The media erupted. Cameras flashed, microphones were shoved forward. Within ten minutes, the video of my assault had completely eclipsed Isabelle’s scandal. Seeing his opportunity, Nathaniel produced a divorce certificate. “The truth is, Alice Shenford has been living a promiscuous life for years. We were divorced three years ago.” “My love for Isabelle is honest and true. It is Alice who has been unable to let go!” Isabelle looked at him, her eyes brimming with manufactured tears of gratitude. Overnight, my name was dragged through the mud. Isabelle stopped talking about leaving and moved back into the apartment upstairs with him. I stared at the divorce certificate on the screen, my mind a complete blank. To prove his sincerity when we first married, he had burned our marriage license in front of my parents’ graves. The divorce certificate was a fake. And the company was mine. How dare he give it away? Losing control, I stormed upstairs and found Isabelle just as she was leaving her apartment. “Isabelle, you’ve been lied to! Nathaniel and I were never divorced!” “The company belongs to my family! He’s nothing but a leech, a social climber who married up!” She listened quietly, then leaned against her doorframe with a cold smirk. “I know,” she said. “But I have his heart. That’s all that matters.” “You’re the fool here, Ms. Shenford.” A cold dread washed over me. “That year he drove through a blizzard to be by your side,” she continued, her voice dripping with poison. “You must have been so moved.” “The truth is, he was just horny. I wasn’t around, and he figured the highway tolls were cheaper than hiring a prostitute.” She glanced toward the elevator, a malicious glint in her eye. “And that year during the pandemic, while you were delirious with fever? He and I were upstairs, tangled in the sheets.” “The medicine he brought you was an expired box from my cabinet. He was never sick. Do I need to go on?” The blood drained from my face. She smiled a strange, cruel smile, then suddenly clutched her stomach and collapsed. “My stomach! Help me, it hurts!” Nathaniel appeared like a whirlwind. Veins bulged on his forehead as he ran toward us and kicked me squarely in the abdomen. “Alice! You’ve disappointed me for the last time! If anything happens to Isabelle’s baby, I’ll kill you!” One kick wasn’t enough. He kicked me again and again. His mother ran over, carrying bags of supplements. Seeing Isabelle’s pale face, she started stomping her feet in a panic. “She pushed my grandson! Beat her! Beat her to death!” The sharp, twisting pain in my belly made me break out in a cold sweat. I curled into a ball on the floor, my voice a weak, desperate plea. “Nathaniel… I’m pregnant…” He froze for a second, then kicked me again with even more force. “Impossible. I have a low sperm count. It took Isabelle ten years to conceive this one baby. There’s no way you’re pregnant too.” His mother overheard and shrieked. “What? Son, you have a low sperm count? Then we absolutely can’t let anything happen to Isabelle’s baby!” Isabelle shot a venomous look at my stomach, her face a mask of wounded innocence. “Nathan, I think I should just leave. You got here in time today, but what about next time? I can’t live in constant fear.” Nathaniel’s brow furrowed in conflict. He made a single phone call. They had me committed to a psychiatric hospital. My world shattered. I beat against the barred window, desperate and helpless, the lower half of my body soaked in blood. “Nathaniel, let me out!” “You’ll regret this! My family won’t let you get away with this!” He stood outside the window, glancing impatiently at his watch. “Alice, all your relatives are dead. Do you still think you’re the precious Shenford heiress?” “Isabelle is pregnant now. That’s my first child. I have to be responsible for her.” “I’m about to transfer half of the company’s shares to her, to give her some security.” His tone softened slightly, his expression complex. “I’m sorry you have to stay here until she gives birth. I’ll make it up to you later.” “And don’t mention the ‘Shenford Corporation’ again. The company is mine now. The Shenford family is finished.” I watched until his back disappeared from view. I couldn’t hold on any longer and collapsed to the floor. Nurses rushed in, and seeing the blood, they screamed in terror. “Oh my God! We have an emergency!” In the chaos, I pulled out my phone and made a call. “Come back,” I whispered, my voice hoarse. “I was wrong.” There was a pause on the other end, then two cold words. “Just wait.” I hung up and smiled, letting the darkness consume me. My signature alone wasn’t enough to transfer the Shenford family shares. It required his signature, too. Nathaniel, I’ve just invited your worst nightmare back into your life.

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I have always been my sister Nora’s living blood bag. Born to save her fragile life, my arms are a map of needle marks. My parents’ apologies and my forced smiles were routine. I believed obedience would someday earn their love. When I won a city drawing competition, Nora tore off her bandages and screamed, “Why couldn’t it have been you?” Mom slapped me, shrieking about my cruelty. Dad carried her out without looking back. At the hospital, I heard the doctor say Nora needed a full-body transfusion to live three more months. I looked at the veins in my arms. Nora, if I apologize with my life, will that be enough? … I gently pushed open the door to the hospital room, and a water glass flew straight at my face. My mother’s eyes were red with fury as she roared, “Who told you to follow us? Get out!” “Haven’t you hurt your sister enough? Do you need her to be dead before you’re satisfied?” The glass hit the bridge of my nose, then shattered on the floor. My vision went black for a few seconds as blood streamed from my nostrils. I swiped at it messily with my sleeve. “I’m sorry, Nora. I just wanted to see you.” My sister’s voice was thick with tears. “See me? See how pathetic I am? See how close I am to dying?” “Get out! You’re not my sister!” “I hate you! I hate you!” She grabbed a pillow and threw it at me, the motion triggering a violent coughing fit. My father’s voice was a low growl. “That’s enough!” He grabbed my arm and dragged me out of the room. He pushed me down onto a plastic chair in the hallway and tilted my chin up. The blood from my nose trickled down my throat, the coppery taste making me gag. He patted my back. “Spit it out.” I shook my head, mumbling, “I can’t. The blood is for Nora. I can’t waste it.” Dad looked at my stubborn face and sighed, his expression a complicated mess of emotions. He got some cotton swabs and antiseptic and began cleaning my nose. “Anne, don’t blame your mother. And don’t blame your sister.” “Nora is only ten, but her bones are like glass. The slightest touch can leave her in agony for a whole night.” “Watching her suffer is worse than a knife in your mother’s heart. She didn’t mean to hit you.” I picked at a hole in my pants. I’d tripped and fallen while running to the hospital. “I know, Dad.” “I’ll be good. I won’t make Nora angry.” My father’s hand paused, then he gently ruffled my hair. “Just sit here for a while. You can come back in when your sister has calmed down.” I sat there obediently, watching through the small window as my parents held Nora, murmuring gentle words of comfort. I rubbed my eyes, pretending I didn’t see. I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew, the door was opening again. Nora was fussing, wanting to go home. “I don’t want to stay here! It stinks like disinfectant, it makes me sick!” Mom immediately agreed. “Okay, okay, honey. We’ll go home. We’ll go home right now.” Dad came out and saw me still sitting there. He paused. “Anne. We’re leaving.” I scrambled to my feet, but my legs had gone numb from sitting for so long, and I crumpled to my knees. No one noticed. I picked myself up. Dad pulled the car around. They gently placed Nora in the back seat, which was padded with a fluffy comforter and soft cushions. It was her special throne, designed to protect her fragile bones. Mom got into the passenger seat. Dad looked from me to Mom. “Maybe you can hold Anne in your lap?” Mom frowned. “Are you crazy?” “What if someone sees and takes a picture? Who’s going to pay the fine for not having her in a car seat?” I quickly ran to the back of the car, stretching on my tiptoes to reach the trunk release. “It’s okay! It’s okay! I have a spot!” The trunk was filled with Nora’s medical supplies. I curled myself into a tight ball and squeezed in, giving Dad a placating smile. “This is great. Really.” Dad sighed. “Well, if you get uncomfortable, you call for me.” From the back seat, Nora’s impatient voice cut through the air. “Can we just go already? I want to go home and lie in my own bed!” The car started. With every turn, every bump, I was thrown around like a bag of trash. A box of medication slammed into my nose, and the sharp pain brought fresh tears to my eyes. I hugged myself tightly, whispering to myself, “Anne, you’re a big girl now. You’re in kindergarten.” “You have to be brave. You can’t cry.” After what felt like an eternity, the car finally stopped. I waited for a long time, but no one came to open the trunk. I managed to crawl over the supplies and through the back seat to get out. Mom saw me and shot me a venomous glare. “If you get Nora’s blankets dirty, you’ll be sorry!” Just then, I remembered something. I turned and ran as fast as I could back to the house. I burst through the door. The shimmering gold award certificate was still lying on the floor. I snatched it up, ran to my room, closed my eyes, and tore it to pieces. Faster and faster, harder and harder, until it was nothing but a pile of confetti that could never be put back together. The heavy stone in my chest felt a little bit lighter. I found the prize-winning drawing. It was of the four of us, our family, standing together in the sun. I traced our smiling faces with my finger, but I couldn’t bring myself to tear it up. I folded it carefully and hid it under my pillow. At dinner, Mom placed a platter of braised beef in front of me. “Eat all of it. Not a single bite left.” The platter was huge, bigger than my face. She turned and went into Nora’s room. I picked up my chopsticks and stuffed the biggest piece I could find into my mouth. But there was so much, my stomach felt like it was going to explode. Dad leaned over, whispering, “If you can’t eat it, don’t force yourself. I’ll help you with a few pieces.” The moment his chopsticks reached for my plate, Mom came out of the room. “David! What are you doing?” She stormed over and slapped my face with her chopsticks. Half my face went numb. I sucked in a sharp breath, the tears welling in my eyes. I fought them back. Crying would only make her angrier. Mom stood with her hands on her hips, scolding me. “So young and already so deceitful?” “You don’t want to eat? If you don’t eat, where will the blood for your sister come from?” Dad stood up. “Why are you hitting her?” “Did she say she wasn’t going to eat? Look at the size of that plate! It’s enough for two grown men!” Tears streamed down Mom’s face as she screamed, “Do you think I want this?” “David, I just want my Nora to live! Is that so wrong?” Dad slumped back into his chair, covering his face with his hands. I watched them fight. I grabbed the remaining beef from the platter and started shoving it into my mouth, not even chewing. The large chunks made me gag, but I forced them down. “Mom, I finished. Please don’t fight.” Mom’s eyes were red. She came over and pulled me into her arms. Her embrace was so warm, so soft. With my cheek pressed against her, the sting on my face seemed to disappear. “Good girl. Anne is a good girl. I know you are.” I nodded fiercely in her arms. After dinner, I finished drawing my blood as usual and prepared to give the bag to my mother. She was on the phone, but she beckoned me over. “Anne, come here. It’s Grandma.” My eyes lit up. Until I was three, my grandma had raised me. After her health declined and she moved back to her hometown, we hadn’t seen each other. “Grandma!” I cried, my nose tingling. Her kind, familiar voice came through the phone. “My sweet Anne, how are you? Are you eating well?” I nodded vigorously. “I’m good! I even won a first-prize award!” The words were out before I could stop them. I regretted them instantly. Beside me, I saw my mother frown. But Grandma laughed happily. “I knew it! Our Anne is the best!” I clutched the receiver. “Grandma, I dreamed about you last night. You were feeding me dumplings, and they were so delicious.” Grandma’s voice grew thick with emotion. “Oh, I miss you too, Anne.” “When I’m feeling a little stronger, I’ll come and visit you.” When the call ended, I had to fight back tears. That night, I slept better than I had in a long time. In my dream, Grandma really did come. She was carrying a steaming bowl of dumplings, smiling as she called my name. “Anne, come and eat.” The next moment, I was jolted awake by a piercing scream. I ran barefoot out of my room. Mom was collapsed on the living room floor, her wails tearing through the house. I ran to her. “Mom, what’s wrong?” She shoved me away. “You have the nerve to ask me what’s wrong?” She lunged at me, grabbing my shoulders and shaking me violently. “Why did you tell your grandma you wanted dumplings?” “Are we starving you? Is there no food in this house? Tell me!” I was too stunned to understand. “I… I just missed her…” A slap landed hard across my face. “You missed her? You missed her so much you killed her!” “If you hadn’t said you wanted dumplings, she wouldn’t have stayed up all night making them for you! She wouldn’t have tried to drive here in the middle of the night! She wouldn’t have gotten into that car accident!” “You’re a curse! A jinx! You took my mother from me!” “Why don’t you just die? Why wasn’t it you who died?” She gave me a final, violent shove. I stumbled backward, the back of my head slamming against the wall. But I couldn’t feel the pain. All I could hear were her words, echoing in my head. Grandma’s dead? I killed Grandma? Dad grabbed my hysterical mother. “Calm down! What does this have to do with Anne?” Mom struggled in his arms, her face a mess of tears and snot. “It has everything to do with her! She’s the one who killed my mom! Let me go! Get her out of this house, I never want to see her again!” Dad half-carried, half-dragged my mother out the door. “Anne, stay here and look after your sister. We’ll be back.” I slid down the wall until I was sitting on the floor. My face was wet. I reached up and realized I was crying. I didn’t even know when the tears had started. Later, Grandma did come home. She was in a coffin. Mom didn’t cry anymore. She stood in front of me with a bowl of dumplings and began stuffing them into my mouth without a word. Her eyes were fixed on me. “Why aren’t you swallowing?” “You wanted them, didn’t you? Eat!” I chewed mechanically, but before I could swallow one, another was forced in. “Swallow it!” I retched, unable to stop myself. Mom slapped me. “How dare you spit it out? Grandma gave her life for you, and you can’t even treasure the dumplings she made?” She grabbed my hair, forcing my head up to look at her. “How could I have given birth to a monster like you?” Her fists and palms rained down on me. I didn’t try to dodge, just bit my lip until I tasted blood. Dad rushed over and pulled her away. “That’s enough! Calm down!” She struggled in his arms, wailing, “I don’t have a mother anymore!” Dad’s eyes were red, too. He held her, but shot a resentful look over her shoulder at me. I sat on the floor, my body aching all over. But my heart hurt more. It hurt so much I couldn’t breathe. Grandma is gone. I killed Grandma. I covered my mouth, stifling my sobs as a tidal wave of grief washed over me. “Anne.” Nora was standing in her bedroom doorway. I pushed myself up and walked into her room. She closed the door and gently touched my swollen cheek. “Does it hurt?” I nodded. My head felt like it was going to split open. Nora sighed and gave me a piece of candy. “Eat this. It’ll help the pain. I always eat candy when my bones hurt.” “Don’t cry.” “Grandma loved you more than anyone. She’d be sad to see you cry.” I sobbed, unable to form a complete sentence. “It’s all my fault… I killed Grandma…” Nora cut me off. “It’s not your fault. Everyone dies. Some just sooner than later.” I sat beside her, crying until I felt like I had no tears left. Nora spoke again, her voice low. “Anne, if I die, will you cry like this for me?” I was startled and shook my head fiercely. “No! Nora, you’re not going to die!” She looked at me and let out a small, humorless laugh. “Silly girl. Don’t lie to me. I know I’m dying soon.” She paused. “Maybe it’s for the best. When you’re dead, there’s no more pain.” “And Grandma is all alone. It must be lonely for her.” She turned to look at me, her eyes shining. “I’ll go keep her company. Then you won’t have to be sad anymore.” I stared at her, my mind blank. A single thought bloomed in the emptiness: I’m the one who should die. I’m the one who should go with Grandma. If I die, Nora won’t have to. Mom and Dad won’t be sad anymore. And I can be with Grandma again. I stared at the veins on my wrist and whispered to myself, Nora, please don’t hate me anymore. I love you. I won’t let you die. That night, Mom entered Nora’s room with a tray of medicine. Her eyes were still swollen, her voice hoarse. “What are you standing there for? Go get ready.” I started to get up. But Nora stopped me. “Don’t do it.” Mom and I both froze. “Mom, don’t make Anne do it anymore.” “I’m dying anyway. More blood isn’t going to help.” Mom rushed to her bed, wanting to hug her but stopping herself. “No! Nora, Mom won’t let you die!” “I’ll beg the doctors! I’ll get on my knees and beg them! There has to be a way!” Nora didn’t look at her. Her eyes were vacant. “Why is God doing this to me?” “Mom, did I do something terrible in a past life?” Mom’s heart broke. “No! It’s not your fault!” “It’s my fault! I didn’t take good care of you!” “God, take me instead! Please, take my life and spare my daughter!” I stood in the doorway, tears trickling into my mouth, salty and bitter. The thought in my mind grew like a wild vine, choking me until I couldn’t breathe. Late that night, I crept out of bed. The spare blood bags and needles were kept in a cabinet in the living room. I squatted down, searching for them carefully.

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The anesthesia faded, replaced by a sharp, knifing pain in my abdomen. I was bleeding heavily, nurses rushing around me, but my husband Arthur was gone. My newborn daughter gave a faint cry. Arthur’s assistant rushed in, panicked. “Mrs. Ashford, Mr. Ashford sent me to get the young miss. Miss Reed is feeling down, and he thought the baby could cheer her up for a few days.” My voice broke as I grabbed his arm. “Does he know I’m hemorrhaging? That she was premature, in an incubator?” “He knows. He said you’re strong—an heiress. You’ll pull through. Miss Reed’s stream is struggling, and she’s fragile.” I asked if they’d bring my daughter back. His silent pity was answer enough. A final tear fell as I closed my eyes. My child was gone. The door opened. Jessica, my once-best friend, stood there, makeup perfect but eyes red. “Anna, you were always a fool. Next time, don’t fight me for him.” I opened my eyes. It was my engagement day again. This time, I wouldn’t fight. 1 The phantom agony of the C-section was so vivid that a cold sweat broke out on my forehead. My last conversation with Jessica from my past life echoed in my mind. As I lay dying, she had come to my bedside, her voice trembling. “Was it worth it, for Arthur? You’ll die, and he’ll be glad for it. But your child will grow up without a mother…” I coughed up blood, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. “Jess, I’m so sorry. If I hadn’t fought you for him back then…” “Don’t,” she cut me off. “I never truly blamed you. I just hate that we let a man destroy our friendship.” As my consciousness faded, I heard Arthur’s voice from the hallway, dripping with a tenderness he never showed me. “Sophie, my love, don’t be sad. I brought the baby. Look how precious she is.” Sophie’s voice was cloyingly sweet. “Arthur, you’re so good to me. Won’t Anna be upset?” “What does she have to be upset about?” Arthur chuckled, a sound devoid of warmth. “She was just a fixture, a piece of the family merger. You’re the one I want to spend my life with.” “Now that she’s dead, it’s perfect. The child is yours to raise, and no one can ever keep us apart again.” Only in that final moment did I understand. The man I had loved with my entire being never had a place for me in his heart. I blinked, and the harsh sunlight of my own bedroom assaulted my eyes. I was lying in my own bed. My phone screen was lit up with a message from Jessica: “Anna, the Ashfords just called. They want you at the estate to discuss the engagement. With Arthur.” I shot upright. There was no scar, no wound on my abdomen. The date on my phone was exactly one year before my daughter’s birth. I had been reborn. I snatched the phone and immediately called Jessica. “Jess, I’ll see you at the estate this afternoon. We need to talk.” Her voice had a hopeful lilt. “You’ve finally seen the light? I told you Arthur was no good for you…” “We’ll talk in person.” I ended the call, a cold, burning hatred swirling in my chest. This time, I would not be Arthur Ashford’s stepping stone. And I would never let my child suffer the same fate. That afternoon, the grand living room of the Ashford estate was filled with the powerful heads of our families. The Ashford patriarch sat at the head of the room. Arthur, dressed in an impeccable suit, kept glancing at his phone, obviously texting Sophie. “Anna. Jessica,” the old man began, his voice raspy with age. “You are both fine young women. Whomever the Ashfords join with, it will be an excellent match. Arthur, the choice is yours. Who will it be?” In my past life, I had stepped forward, eagerly offering myself up. Jessica’s eyes had filled with tears, and our friendship shattered that very day. I hesitated, wondering if I should tell her the truth. But then I saw it in her eyes—a flicker of hope, a desperate desire. I knew she hadn’t given up on Arthur. She wanted to gamble on him one last time. Before I could speak, Jessica stood up. “Grandfather, I’d like to try!” Arthur looked up, startled. He clearly hadn’t expected her to be so bold. My heart tightened, but I remained silent. If this was her choice, the only thing I could do was be there to catch her when she finally crashed and burned. The patriarch nodded slowly. “Very well. Since Jessica is willing, then it is settled. The wedding has been in the works for six months. It will take place in three days.” “Wait,” I said suddenly. All eyes turned to me. “Grandfather, I agree to Jessica’s engagement, but on one condition.” 2 The old man stared at me. “Speak.” “Until the wedding, Arthur is not to have any contact with Sophie Reed.” I fixed my gaze on Arthur. “After all, Jessica is his fiancée now. He owes her that basic respect.” Arthur’s face darkened instantly. “Anna, Sophie and I are just friends. Don’t overstep.” “Besides,” he added coolly, “this is between me and Jessica. You have no place interfering.” Jessica, always proud, let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “Friends? Arthur, can you honestly say she’s just a friend?” She took a breath, her chin held high. “But it doesn’t matter. I trust you’ll know where your priorities lie. Here’s to the rest of our lives.” She still wouldn’t give up. Looking at her was like looking at a reflection of my past self. A wave of sorrow washed over me. Just then, Arthur’s phone began vibrating frantically. His assistant burst into the room. “Mr. Ashford! It’s terrible! Miss Reed has been in an accident!” Arthur shot to his feet. “What happened?” The assistant’s face was ashen. “She was on her way to the estate when a truck rear-ended her car. She’s being rushed to the hospital now!” “What?” Arthur’s pupils contracted. He spun around and sprinted for the door. “Send me the address!” He didn’t even make it to the threshold before the patriarch’s roar stopped him in his tracks. “Stop right there! We are not finished discussing your wedding. What could possibly be more important than an Ashford marriage? Arthur, it seems you have forgotten your place!” Arthur turned back without hesitation, his knees hitting the marble floor with a sickening thud. “Grandfather, Sophie isn’t some outsider. She’s… she’s carrying my child!” “She’s pregnant. I have to go to her.” The word “friends” now hung in the air, a bitter, mocking lie. The color drained from Jessica’s face. She swayed, and I rushed to steady her. “Jess,” I whispered. “You heard him.” The old man slammed his fist on the table, his face purple with rage. “You insolent boy! This is madness!” But he was talking to an empty room. Arthur was already gone. When we arrived at the hospital, Sophie was lying in bed, a bandage wrapped around her forehead, tears streaming down her face like a tragic heroine. The moment she saw Arthur, she threw herself into his arms. “Arthur, my love, I was so scared! I thought the baby and I were going to die! I can’t believe I’m seeing you again…” “Shh, it’s okay. I’m here now. I won’t let anything happen to you.” Arthur held her tight, his eyes overflowing with a raw, protective love he had never once shown me. Then he turned, his gaze falling upon Jessica and me, and his expression turned to ice. “Which one of you did this!” Jessica stared at him, stunned. “What are you talking about?” Sobbing, Sophie pointed a trembling finger at Jessica. “Who else could it be? Before I left, I sent you a message. I told you I was pregnant with Arthur’s child and I wanted to talk. You refused, and you threatened me! You said you wouldn’t let me get away with it!” She held up her phone. On the screen was a message sent to Jessica: “I’m carrying Arthur’s child. We’re truly in love. Please, Miss Lynn, I’m begging you to let us be together…” Jessica’s reply was three simple words: “In your dreams.” I had known Jessica for years. That was the response of a proud woman who had been provoked, nothing more. If she had truly wanted to harm Sophie, she would never have wasted time with a text message. But Arthur wasn’t interested in logic. Jessica’s voice rose, desperate and cracking. “I didn’t send anyone to hit you! I was angry that you taunted me, but why would I ever hurt you or your child? I didn’t even know where you were!” “If it wasn’t you, then who was it?” Arthur’s voice was a low, vicious snarl. “Jessica, I never knew you were so vile. To marry into my family, you’d even resort to murder?” “I didn’t!” Tears streamed down Jessica’s face. “Arthur, please, just believe me this once. We’ve known each other for so long. Don’t you know the kind of person I am?” “I thought I did! That was my mistake!” Arthur roared. “You think I don’t know how jealous you’ve always been of Sophie? Now that she’s carrying my child, you’re desperate to clear the way before the wedding, so you decided to eliminate the ‘problem’!” “Jessica, you disgust me.” A bitter, self-mocking laugh escaped her lips. “I disgust you? Arthur, I have loved you for ten years. For you, I fought with my parents, I gave up my scholarship to study abroad, I even turned my back on my best friend. And all I get in return is that I disgust you?” “Yes!” The word was a weapon, sharp and immediate. “Compared to Sophie, you don’t even deserve to carry her shoes. Sophie is gentle and kind and never asks for anything. And you? Your mind is a labyrinth of schemes! If it weren’t for the Lynn family name, I would never have given you a second glance!” “Let me be perfectly clear. Even if we get married, I will never see you as my wife! You are just the public face of this merger. The woman I recognize, the only one in my heart, will always be Sophie.” His words were daggers, each one plunging deeper into Jessica’s heart. Her face turned a deathly gray, and her body trembled uncontrollably. The light in her eyes extinguished, flicker by painful flicker. 3 I held Jessica, my own body trembling with a rage that was both fresh and ancient. “Arthur, you have no proof. How can you accuse her like this? You believe every word Sophie says, but you won’t listen to a single thing from Jessica?” Arthur sneered. “Proof? Sophie’s word is all the proof I need. She would never lie to me. But you, Anna… you and Jessica are two of a kind. Don’t think I don’t know what you’re plotting.” “One of you drugs me, the other fakes a kidnapping. All this drama just to climb into my bed. You two really are best friends, aren’t you? Even your pathetic methods are the same.” The weight of my past life’s misery crashed down on me. I lifted my chin, my voice raw with fury. “I must have been blind to ever love a man like you, someone who can’t tell right from wrong! Arthur Ashford, mark my words. From this day forward, you and I are done.” Sophie, nestled in Arthur’s arms, glanced at us, a flicker of triumph in her eyes. Jessica grabbed my hand, her voice chillingly calm. “It doesn’t matter. Let him think what he wants.” “Anna, let’s go.” Once we were out of the room, Jessica could no longer hold it in. She collapsed against the hallway wall, sobbing uncontrollably. I rubbed her back, my own heart aching with the echoes of my past life’s pain. Her words were choked and broken. “I’m such an idiot. I knew he didn’t love me, but I just had to throw myself at him. And now… now I’m just some cheap, pathetic woman he thinks he can sleep with and discard.” “It’s not your fault,” I whispered. “He’s the one who’s blind.” I took a deep breath. “After all this, do you still want to marry him?” She shook her head, her body limp with defeat. “Anna, now I understand why you… in your last life… I regret it. I don’t want to marry him.” “But I have no way out. If I call off the wedding, my family offends the entire Ashford dynasty. It’s a gamble I can’t afford to take…” I looked down, an idea taking root in my mind. “I have a plan,” I said softly. “Let’s get you home first.” When we got back to her house, Jessica’s parents met us with grim faces. “Jessica, the Ashfords just called,” her father said, his voice heavy. “They said if we don’t issue a public apology, they’re pulling all their investments from Lynn Industries.” “The Ashfords hold all the power. One word from them and we’ll be ruined in this city. I told you not to chase after that boy, but you wouldn’t listen! Now our entire family has to pay for your mistake!” her mother cried, her eyes red and swollen. “What did you do?” Jessica froze, her face a mask of disbelief. “Make me apologize? I didn’t do anything wrong. Why should I apologize? If he’s not happy, he can just call off the wedding!” As the words left her mouth, her face went pale. Our eyes met. She understood. Sophie was, on the surface, just an influencer who had clawed her way up from nothing. To high society, she was a nobody, unsuitable for the role of an Ashford wife. No matter how much Arthur despised Jessica, he needed the Lynn family name. He would never let her go. “But we can’t afford to offend them!” her mother pleaded. “Lynn Industries is completely dependent on their investments. If they pull out, we’re finished! You need to call them and apologize right now. It doesn’t matter if it was your fault or not. We have to save the company!” My own parents arrived then, their expressions just as dark. “Anna, the Ashfords pressured us, too. They said if you keep helping Jessica, our family’s projects are finished.” Looking at our desperate parents, Jessica and I exchanged a look of shared defeat. We could sacrifice our own pride, but we couldn’t destroy our families. In the end, we were the ones who had fallen for Arthur. It was our mistake, and we had to be the ones to pay for it. Jessica wiped away her tears, her voice suddenly firm. “I’m not calling off the engagement.” She paused, then added, “But I’m not marrying him, either.” Our parents stared at us, utterly confused. I knew exactly what she meant. “That’s right,” I said. “We can just swap the bride.”

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Because I accidentally stained the dress of my husband’s childhood friend, Nina, he forced me to have ten abortions. To appease Nina, he made me get pregnant and abort, again and again. On the tenth time, I begged him, my voice cracking. “Luke, please, I’m begging you. It’s been nine times. This is your child, too!” Luke looked down at me, his tone as charitable as if he were tossing a coin to a beggar. “I promised Nina I’d punish you ten times. This is the last one. Just bear with it. I’ll let you keep the next one.” I closed my eyes in despair, surrendering to the cold, sterile instruments as they stole the life from my womb once more. Suddenly, a mechanical voice echoed in my mind: [Rebound System activated for host. All damage received will be reflected back upon the perpetrator.] 1 I opened my eyes to a world of blinding white, the familiar, sharp scent of antiseptic filling my senses. Surprisingly, Luke was sitting by my bed, his expression a blank mask. “Scarlett, ten punishments. You should have learned your lesson by now. Be more careful next time. Don’t upset Nina over something so trivial.” “Nina’s coming to see you later,” he continued, his voice casual, as if the ten punishments were as simple as a child being told to write lines. “Don’t you dare give her a sour face. Apologize properly, and we can put this behind us.” But I was the one who had felt the searing pain of my flesh being torn apart ten times. Three years of suppressed grief and indignation surged through me, and my eyes instantly reddened. “I’ve told you a hundred times, she walked into my wine glass. She framed me on purpose! I did nothing wrong. What gives you the right to take away my chance to be a mother, again and again?” Luke’s face darkened, his voice turning to ice. “That’s enough, Scarlett! I’ve seen the security footage. You deliberately tried to embarrass her. And now you’re trying to slander her? You will apologize to Nina today.” Before I could argue, the door opened and Nina walked in. She looked at Luke with a wounded expression. “Luke, maybe we should just forget it. Scarlett seems so unwilling. It’s okay if I’m a little upset, I don’t want to cause trouble between you two.” Luke’s gaze softened as he looked at her, his voice sickeningly sweet. “How could I do that? It breaks my heart to see you upset. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure she apologizes to you today.” He turned back to me, his eyes cold. “You should learn from Nina. She’s so much more understanding. If you don’t want another punishment, you’ll apologize to her right now.” It was always like this. Forcing me to apologize to Nina right after an abortion. Even when the security footage had obvious gaps, even when I saw a flicker of doubt in his own eyes, he always chose to believe Nina. When I refused to apologize, he would ignore my fragile state and force himself on me in that very hospital bed. And I, like a fool, believed each time would be the last. I would feel a flicker of joy with each new pregnancy, only to have it crushed into despair. This time, I didn’t scream or fight like before. I turned my head away, my silence a wall of defiance. I could hear the anger in Luke’s breathing. He grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at him. “Scarlett, don’t test my patience. Apologize to Nina now, or you won’t like the consequences.” A bitter laugh escaped my lips. “And if I don’t?” His grip tightened, his voice merciless. “It seems the punishments haven’t been enough. If you insist on being stubborn, I don’t mind making you lose the chance to be a mother one more time.” My body tensed instinctively. My eyes blazed with fury as I stared him down. “Luke Anderson, you wouldn’t dare.” He smiled, a chilling, predatory grin. “Dare? I’ve dared many times before. And you seem to enjoy it, don’t you?” His hand moved to the waistband of my hospital pants, pulling them down. A wave of goosebumps erupted over my skin. I pressed my hands against him, my voice a raw scream. “Luke, what do you think you’re doing? I’m still bleeding! You can’t do this to me, I’ll get an infection!” The violent movement tore the IV needle from my vein. Blood streamed down the back of my hand, pooling on the floor. He hesitated for a fraction of a second. Nina tugged on his sleeve, her voice a pathetic whimper. “Luke, don’t force her. She’s a lady of high society, she can’t be treated this way. Unlike me, I’m just a nobody. I can’t say a word even when I’m publicly humiliated…” Luke’s face grew even darker. “High society? Can’t be treated this way? I’ll show her what real humiliation is today!” With a savage tug, he ripped my pants down. The cold air hit my exposed skin. I trembled violently, a tidal wave of shame crashing over me. I fought back, gathering all my strength and slapping him hard across the face. “You animal!” The blow stunned him. His face contorted with rage, and he grabbed my collar, shoving me back. My body fell like a leaf, my head smashing against the corner of the bedside cabinet. A sticky, red liquid instantly blinded me. Luke froze, reaching out to help me, but Nina let out a piercing shriek. “Luke, I’m getting dizzy… the blood…” Luke paused for only a moment before sweeping Nina into his arms. He opened his mouth to say something to me, but the door swung open. “What is going on in here?” 2 A nurse rushed in. Seeing my blood-covered face, she immediately started to staunch the bleeding. She shot a disapproving glare at Luke, who was still holding Nina. “The patient just had a termination procedure. She needs to rest. How could you, her husband, let her get hurt? If you’re not here to care for her, then please leave immediately and don’t disturb her recovery!” Luke looked embarrassed, his eyes flickering towards me with a complex expression. But I refused to meet his gaze, sitting silently as the nurse cleaned and bandaged my wound. Luke’s expression hardened. He turned and left, his arm still around Nina. The nurse scowled at their retreating backs before turning to me. “If you don’t want kids, use protection. Even a body made of iron couldn’t withstand this many abortions. The doctor said you’re at high risk for habitual miscarriages now.” I said nothing. The dream of motherhood was already dead to me. Seeing my silence, the nurse sighed. “I know this might sound harsh, but with a husband that irresponsible, why don’t you just divorce him?” Her question was a needle piercing my heart, sending out a thousand tiny splinters of pain. Luke and I met in college. When we started our business, we lived in a basement apartment, eating discarded vegetables we picked up from the market. To secure one deal, I debased myself by walking a client’s dog, cleaning his toilet like a janitor. We couldn’t afford staff, so we were our own delivery drivers. I, weighing less than a hundred pounds, would haul hundred-pound crates, the weight digging bloody welts into my shoulders. I was once forced to drink so much with a client that I fell into a coma from alcohol poisoning for three days and nights. Ten years. We built a company from a few hundred thousand to a publicly traded corporation worth over a hundred million. We had been through so much together. I had tried to divorce him. But our lives were too deeply entangled. Every time, he would cry and beg like a guilty child. He even used his connections to sideline me from the company while I was recovering. If I insisted on a divorce, I would leave with nothing. Time and again, my heart would soften. I would compromise, sinking deeper and deeper into the abyss. I told myself I didn’t leave because of the assets. But a voice deep inside screamed the truth: I couldn’t let go of the love I still had for him. Ten times, Luke. You’ve finally exhausted every last drop of my love. My thoughts were interrupted as another nurse pushed the door open. “Scarlett, was that your husband who just left this room? A chandelier just fell and smashed a huge hole in his head. You should go check on him.” The nurse who had bandaged me smirked. “Serves him right. That’s karma for you!” I was stunned. The system’s cheerful voice rang in my ear: [Congratulations, Host. Damage rebound successful. Please proceed to the next unlock.] I shot up from the bed, a laugh bubbling up from my chest. “Go? Of course, I’m going.” When I reached the emergency room, a doctor was cleaning Luke’s wound. His face and body were covered in blood. Nina sat beside him, her own face splattered with blood, looking pale and terrified. Our eyes met through the glass doors of the ER. The panic in his eyes vanished, replaced by an unreadable emotion. I stared at him, not moving, not speaking. I simply mouthed two words: “Karma.” Then, ignoring the fury blooming on his face, I turned and walked away. 3 I discharged myself that afternoon and went home alone. As I was about to get into the elevator from the underground garage, a hand clamped over my mouth and nose. A sharp, chemical smell filled my lungs, and I blacked out. When I woke up, I was in a sauna. Through the transparent glass wall, a group of spoiled trust-fund kids were watching me with amusement. Luke, his head wrapped in thick gauze, had his arm around Nina’s waist. He was smiling at me. “You said it was karma? Today, I’ll show you what real karma is.” My heart sank. I grabbed my phone to call the police, but the line was dead. The men outside burst into laughter. “Scarlett, are you an idiot? Did you really think we’d let you call for help? We jammed the signal.” “That’s right. How dare you talk back to Luke? Didn’t expect karma to come for you so quickly, did you?” “This is the best-insulated sauna in the city. It can be 100 degrees inside, and you won’t feel a thing out here. Luke said if you don’t behave today, we get to control the temperature!” My blood ran cold. I saw the thermostat: a glaring red 70 degrees Celsius. I stumbled to my feet and pounded on the glass. “Luke, let me out! I just had surgery! I’m weak, I can’t take this heat!” A smug smile played on Luke’s lips. He pulled a blushing Nina closer. He walked to the window, tracing the outline of my pale face on the glass with his fingertip. “Scarlett, it’s been three years. Haven’t you learned your lesson yet?” My thin blouse was already soaked with sweat. The suffocating heat made it hard to breathe. “Luke, it’s been three years. Haven’t you tortured me enough? Have you forgotten what you promised me?” Luke’s expression froze, a flicker of hesitation in his eyes. A long time ago, we’d had a child. But due to long-term malnutrition and overwork, I miscarried. Luke had held me then, crying with a helplessness I’d never seen before. “Scarlett, I’m so sorry. You’ve suffered so much with me. We won’t have kids for now. I promise, when we’re better off, I’ll make you the happiest mother in the world.” Because I was allergic to latex, he’d even gotten a vasectomy. He said he never wanted my body to suffer any harm. And yet, for Nina’s baseless accusation, he had used the one thing I wanted most in the world to destroy me completely. Luke glanced at the locked door, about to take a step. Nina’s eyes welled up with tears. “Luke, just let her out. It all happened three years ago. It was humiliating, but I got over it…” Humiliating? It was just a splash of red wine. And that night, Nina had been wearing a burgundy dress. You couldn’t even see the stain unless you were looking for it. No one even mentioned it. What humiliation? I was about to repeat the explanation I’d given for three years, but Luke’s face contorted with rage. His voice seemed to burn right through the glass. “Strip her! Let’s show her what real humiliation is!” He cupped Nina’s face, gently kissing away her tears. The look he gave me was hard as stone. “Turn the temperature up to 80. Add more water. If she doesn’t admit she’s wrong, turn it up to 90. Don’t let her use being weak as an excuse. I asked the doctor. It won’t kill her.” He held Nina in his arms, watching as if it were a movie as several men entered the sauna to tear off my clothes. I fought desperately, clutching my shirt. “Luke!” I screamed at the window. “Make them stop! This is illegal!” RIIIP. My shirt was torn to shreds. A wave of intense heat and shame washed over me. The men laughingly poured water over the hot stones. Billows of steam filled the small room, clogging my nose and mouth. Sweat poured off me, soaking the floor. I gasped for air, each breath drawing the scorching heat deep into my lungs. The metal necklace I wore felt like a branding iron against my skin. My strength gave out. I collapsed to the floor, on the verge of passing out. One of the trust-fund kids looked worriedly at Luke. “Hey, Luke, I think she’s had enough. We don’t want to actually kill her.” Nina peered through the steam. “Scarlett, just apologize. Otherwise, Luke will lose face.” With my last ounce of strength, I forced a single word from my lips: “Never.” Luke sneered and tossed a card on the table. “One million. Turn it up to 100 degrees. She can come out when she apologizes.” The sudden spike in temperature felt like being thrown into a furnace. My entire body was on fire. I couldn’t breathe. System! I screamed in my head. Where the hell are you? The system’s voice trembled slightly. [I’m here. Right on time.]

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In a blizzard on Mount Kestrel. My girlfriend, Isabelle, was wrapped around her “little brother,” Ryan. She roared at me, “Nathan, Ryan is fragile! Take off your suit and give it to him, now!” I stared out at the swirling snow, my heart aching. “Isabelle, it’s negative twenty-six degrees Celsius. Are you seriously telling me to give my gear to Ryan? As a member of the search and rescue team, his own protective suit is more than adequate.” Before I could refuse, Isabelle grabbed the front of my suit and started tearing at it. “The International SAR Competition is in a week! If he gets sick, how is he supposed to compete and win first place?” In the next moment, my protective suit was on her precious Ryan. In the biting -26°C cold, I stood in nothing but a thin sweater, preparing to use the cable to winch the injured climber up the steep cliff face. But then, her “little brother” shoved me off the ledge. As I fell, watching the two of them wrapped in a tight embrace, ascending to the top of the cliff, the last embers of hope in my heart finally died. When I woke up, I calmly handed my resignation letter to Captain Davis. “Captain, here’s my resignation.” He stared at me, stunned. “Nathan, the competition is next month! You were a shoo-in for first place. Why are you quitting now?” I glanced at the taunting video Ryan had sent to my phone and said evenly, “I’m going home to take over the family business. And get married.” 1 My teammate Mike nearly gasped. “You’re getting married? Does Dr. Stone know?” I looked over at Isabelle, who was meticulously fussing over Ryan’s collar, my voice laced with bitterness. “She doesn’t need to know. And please, Captain, don’t tell her for now.” The wind atop Mount Kestrel was vicious, whipping through my visor and making my eyes sting until tears streamed down my face. Three years ago, Isabelle had said, “I’m going to do something meaningful. Are you coming?” For her, I had walked away from the Hawthorne Corporation and followed her to this 4,000-meter peak to become a rescue volunteer. I loved her. I would have followed her through fire and ice. I saw this as my chance. When I first joined the team, I was decked out in designer gear, my hair perfectly styled, my hands unscarred. Everyone dismissed me as a rich kid looking for an adventure and refused to assign me any real tasks. That changed during an avalanche. Without a second thought, I dove in and saved three team members, including Isabelle. From that day on, I was a core part of the team. Even Captain Davis looked at me with newfound respect, calling me the “Guardian of the Mountain.” For three whole years, my hands and arms became a roadmap of scars, my skin grew rough and weathered. I willingly became Isabelle’s dedicated protector. When she was afraid of the dark, I stood guard outside the infirmary all night. When she suffered from severe altitude sickness, I scoured the entire town for fresh fruit. When she was caught in a storm, I risked my life to bring her back. Only I knew that the mountain wasn’t what I was guarding; it was Isabelle. Everyone else just teased me, saying I was a man who chose love over a kingdom. A shout from a teammate snapped me back to the present. “We’ve found an unconscious person! Prepare for rescue!” The team swarmed to the location. Halfway down a steep slope, a figure was barely visible, buried in a snowdrift next to a crumpled parachute. Captain Davis immediately prepped the winch cable. “Nathan, you’re the most experienced. You go.” I nodded grimly, taking the cable to secure it to my harness. Suddenly, Isabelle rushed forward and snatched it from my hands. “Captain, let Ryan do it! The competition is next month, he needs the experience.” Before I could protest, she had already fastened the cable around Ryan’s waist. Then, to my utter shock, she wrapped her arms around him, using the same cable to bind them tightly together. “Ryan, don’t be afraid. You can do this. I’m a doctor, I’ll keep you safe.” Captain Davis’s face darkened. “Dr. Stone, don’t be reckless! That cable is only rated for one person’s weight. What you’re doing is incredibly dangerous!” Isabelle gazed tenderly at Ryan, who was pressed against her. “That’s exactly why I can’t let him go down alone.” She turned to the captain, her voice urgent. “If anything happens, I take full responsibility. I’m a doctor, I know how to handle an emergency. Lower the rope!” She held Ryan tight as they began their descent down the cliffside. Before I could even shout a warning, there was a loud SNAP. The carabiner broke, and they both went tumbling down the slope. 2 There was no time for explanations. I grabbed another cable, secured the harness in three seconds flat, and leaped over the edge. A dozen seconds later, I landed steadily on the narrow ledge. Nearby, Isabelle was cradling an unconscious Ryan, screaming his name. I let out a cold, humorless laugh, not bothering to waste my breath scolding them for their stupidity. I quickly unhooked my safety carabiner and handed it to her. “Isabelle, attach this to him.” As she took the cable, her eyes fell on my thick, windproof suit. “Nathan, take off your suit and put it on Ryan. The rope is rough, it’ll scratch him.” I stared at her in disbelief. On Mount Kestrel, the temperature was a constant twenty-something degrees below zero. Did she have any idea what she was asking? I would freeze solid in under half an hour. Seeing my hesitation, she grew agitated. “Nathan, as an elite rescue operator, saving lives is your duty. Why are you being so selfish? If anything happens to Ryan because of this delay, I will never forgive you.” As she finished speaking, Ryan’s eyes fluttered open. He saw the cold fury on my face and struggled to sit up. “I’m sorry, Nathan… Isabelle is just worried about me. Please don’t be angry…” Isabelle cut him off immediately. “You don’t need to apologize. This is his fault for being selfish. It has nothing to do with you.” Their words were a stake through my heart. The love I had chased for three years was nothing but a joke. Three days ago, Isabelle had a cold. I’d gone to town to pick up some imported medicine that had been rush-delivered for her. On my way back, I saw them. Isabelle and Ryan, locked in a passionate kiss. “Isabelle, I’m not good enough for you,” he’d said. “Go back to the city. Don’t stay in this miserable place.” She had kissed him back fiercely, her voice thick with emotion. “Ryan, as long as I can be with you, I’ll endure any hardship. Just wait a little longer. My family will agree to let us get married.” The snow had been heavy that night, so heavy that the ginger soup I was carrying for her had turned cold in my hands. I stood there in the wind, feeling like the world’s biggest fool. So that was it. The reason Isabelle gave up her comfortable life and came to this godforsaken mountain wasn’t for some noble medical mission. It was for Ryan. The “meaningful thing” she wanted to do was defy her family for a love that crossed class divides. My three years of devotion had been nothing more than the pathetic fawning of her personal lapdog. The perfect couple the team always teased us about was a figment of my one-sided imagination. I was just the backup plan. The convenient shield to appease her family and keep up appearances. A woman like that didn’t deserve my heart. Suddenly, Isabelle lunged at me, grabbing my zipper and tearing it down. “Nathan, I told you to give Ryan your suit! Are you deaf? He has the international competition in a few days! How can he win if he gets sick?” 3 As the zipper gave way, a blast of arctic wind seared my chest, my skin erupting in a thousand icy needles. I tried to pull the suit closed, but the ledge was too narrow for more than two people. I didn’t dare make any sudden moves, terrified she would fall into the abyss below. She ripped and tore at the suit until, in less than a minute, it was off me. Isabelle immediately wrapped it around Ryan, carefully tightening the collar for him. “Ryan, I’m here. I won’t let anything happen to you.” When she turned back to me, her eyes were brimming with impatience. “Stop being so dramatic. I’m a doctor, I know what I’m talking about. Freezing for half an hour won’t kill you. As soon as I get Ryan up, I’ll come right back for you. Just be strong. You’ll get through it.” My body was wracked with shivers. I pulled the thick sheepskin scarf from my neck and pressed it to my mouth and nose, trying to avoid inhaling the frigid air. During our training, the instructor had specifically warned us that inhaling extremely cold air could cause searing pain, internal bleeding, and unconsciousness. Protecting your mouth and nose was critical. As if a lightbulb went off in her head, Isabelle reached out, snatched the scarf from my face, and quickly wrapped it around Ryan’s neck. “Give this to Ryan, too. See? You’re fine. Stop being so delicate. Ryan just woke up from being unconscious. His body is weak. A little cold air could make him seriously ill.” Her self-righteousness was colder than the air itself. My scarf was custom-made from the finest wool. My suit was a specially reinforced, imported model. And now, they were both offerings to her precious little lover. A voice crackled over the radio from above, asking for a status report. Isabelle answered before I could get a word in. “Everything’s fine! Ryan was slightly injured while saving the victim. I’m sending him up now.” She began securing my cable to Ryan’s harness. My lips were trembling so hard I could barely speak. “Isabelle, get the victim. He could have been unconscious for days.” She shot a disgusted look at the motionless figure nearby. “He was showing off, climbing to a place like this. He can wait. Saving Ryan is more important.” I was seething. “Isabelle, have you forgotten the first rule of this team? Ryan is conscious and his vitals are stable. Look at the victim! His face is already turning gray!” She glared back at me. “If he dies, it’s his own fault! We can’t let Ryan get sick just for him!” As we argued, Ryan made a show of undoing the harness. “Nathan, please don’t fight with Isabelle. I know you don’t like me… you don’t want me to compete in the competition.” He grabbed the cable and tried to shove it into my hands. Just as I reached for it, a powerful shove sent me stumbling backward. In that split second, a terrible realization flashed through my mind. My body went weightless, and I was falling, tumbling into the endless snowfields below.

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The night before my wedding, I found my sister in bed with my fiancé. In her panic, she fell and miscarried. And just like that, I was painted as the cruel, heartless villain. “You’ve done wrong, and now you must be punished.” My husband-to-be, in league with my own parents, forced me to sign away our marriage and then personally drove me to a psychiatric facility. When I finally got out, it was just in time for their wedding. I didn’t crash the reception and cause a scene, as everyone expected. Instead, I boarded a plane and vanished from their lives completely. … Eight years later. I saw Ashton Blackwood again, standing outside the emergency room. A sudden, jarring reunion. He was in a frantic rush, getting his pregnant wife checked in. The moment I looked up to begin the consultation, our eyes met. “Nora?” He froze, his gaze instinctively dropping to my wrist, to the jagged, faded scar that marred the skin. “Your scar…” he started, his voice catching in his throat. He seemed desperate to say more, but the icy wall in my expression made him swallow the words. “Unauthorized personnel, please step aside.” My tone was flat, clinical, as if we were complete strangers. After the procedure, I calmly explained the restrictions for her recovery and medication. Ashton pretended to listen, but his eyes were adrift, constantly returning to me. Finally, he asked a question that was miles over the line. “Why didn’t you ever come back home? We searched for you for a long time.” Just then, a small, clear voice cut through the tension. “Mommy, when are we eating? Andy is hungry.” Ashton’s head snapped toward the sound, his eyes landing on a small face that was a startling echo of his own. “That child… is he…?” A nurse came over just then, asking for my signature on a chart. I gave Ashton a curt nod, took my son’s hand, and turned to leave without another word. “Mommy, who was that man?” my son asked, tilting his head back to look up at me with curious eyes. My voice was devoid of any emotion. “A patient’s family.” “But… it looked like he was about to cry. He just kept staring at us.” I didn’t break my stride. “You saw wrong.” My neighbor, Mrs. Gable, who usually watched Andy for me, had an emergency, which is why I’d had to bring him to work. Thankfully, she had just called to say she was on her way. That night, a soft autumn rain began to fall outside my window. I finished my work, my body aching with exhaustion, and walked back to my office. I never expected to find Ashton waiting there. My brow furrowed. “Mr. Blackwood. Is there something you need?” My cold formality seemed to catch him off guard. “There’s no need for concern, Mr. Blackwood. Your wife’s condition is not serious. Just ensure she attends her follow-up appointments.” I spoke to him as I would any other stranger. Perhaps the words “your wife” stung him. I could see a tempest of emotions swirling behind his gaze. He opened his mouth, but all that came out was a dry, raspy, “…Thank you.” “If there’s nothing else, I’ll be leaving. The doctor on call can assist you with any further questions.” I gave him a slight nod and walked away. As I passed the security desk, the guard, a friendly man I knew well, leaned out. “Nora, wasn’t that Mr. Blackwood? The one with the fancy car? He looks like a real big shot.” I nodded. “Yes.” “Making that kind of money so young, must be nice,” he mused. “I hear he and his wife are inseparable. Someone said they came to the coast to pray for the health of their unborn baby.” His voice was filled with the average person’s fascination with the lives of the wealthy. I didn’t respond. Yes, Mr. and Mrs. Blackwood were inseparable now. And his wife, Lila, had a husband who adored her, parents who doted on her, and a child on the way. She had everything that was once supposed to be mine. And almost no one remembered how she got it. My phone vibrated, pulling me from my thoughts. [Sorry, something came up with a project. I’ll be a little late to pick you up.] A small smile touched my lips as my fingers danced across the screen. [Focus on your work. I can get home myself.] The reply was almost instant. [Be safe. Text me when you get home.] Tucking my phone away, I noticed the rain was coming down harder, with no sign of letting up. I waited for what felt like an eternity, but the ride-share app just kept spinning, no cars available. Honk. A car horn blared behind me. A black Bentley Mulsanne pulled up to the curb. I knew that car. The license plate was Lila’s birthday. Mine was the very next day. The passenger window rolled down, revealing Ashton’s profile. “Get in. I’ll give you a ride.” Glancing at the still-loading icon on my phone, I hesitated for only a second before pulling open the back door and sliding in, giving him the address of my apartment complex. I was bone-tired, and the damp weather was making the old injuries in my wrist and abdomen ache with a dull, persistent throb. A free ride was a free ride. No point in refusing. Ashton was a creature of habit, almost obsessively so. In our time together, I wasn’t even allowed to place a new air freshener in the car without his permission. But now… The car was filled with the cool, woody scent of sandalwood, Lila’s favorite. A minimalist Nordic figurine, her preferred style, sat on the dashboard. Seeing me in the back seat, Ashton gave a bitter smile. “So you’re really treating me like a chauffeur?” “I just don’t want to give your wife the wrong idea,” I said, my voice cool. The phrase “your wife” acted like a kill switch, strangling any words he might have been about to say. The air in the car grew heavy and suffocating. I turned my head to watch the city lights blur past the window, letting the silence hang. The streaking lights pulled my mind back eight years, to the darkest day of my life. It was the day before Ashton and I were supposed to get married. I was brimming with excitement, dreaming of becoming his wife. I never imagined that when I pushed open the door to our home, I would walk in on him and my sister, Lila. Entangled. In our wedding suite. On our wedding bed. They were so lost in each other that they didn’t notice me standing in the doorway for a long, silent moment. Not until Lila’s eyes finally found mine. “Nora!” she shrieked, her eyes wide with shock. I thought that being caught red-handed would make Ashton panic, or at least show a flicker of shame. He did neither. The very first thing he did was pull the blanket up, covering the incriminating marks on Lila’s body. “What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice laced with the annoyance of someone whose private moment had been interrupted. Back then, I had no tolerance for betrayal. In that single instant, humiliation and rage consumed me. I became a screaming madwoman, hurling every vicious word I could think of at them, swiping everything I could reach off the dressers and tables. The room was a disaster. Lila cowered behind Ashton, trembling. “Nora, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean for this to happen. Ashton and I… we’re in love.” Her voice was a choked sob, her eyes glistening like a white lily beaten down by a storm, the picture of pitiable innocence. A far cry from the seductive woman with bedroom eyes I had seen moments before. Ashton shielded her with his body, his glare a condemnation. “You’re scaring her! Look at yourself, you’re acting like a shrew!” He was right. I felt like a monster. I took their picture and blasted it across social media and our family group chat. I wanted everyone to see their disgusting, ugly truth. The photo had barely been up for a minute before my parents called. “Nora, have you lost your mind?!” “Take that down right now! If that gets out, how is Lila supposed to face anyone?” My parents had always favored Lila. She was sickly as a child, in and out of hospitals, so they gave her everything she ever wanted, spoiling her rotten. And I, as the older sister, was expected to put her first, to yield to her in everything, without question. My birthday was only a day after hers, so my parents forced me to celebrate mine early, combining it with hers. But at every party, Lila was always the star. I just never imagined their favoritism would extend to something as sordid as this. “You and Ashton should get a divorce.” My sister was sleeping with my fiancé. And instead of reprimanding her, my parents were telling me to step aside and let them be together. “Why?!” I screamed, the injustice a physical weight on my chest. It was her mistake, so why was I the one who had to give up my life? Their hearts were hopelessly biased. My chest felt like it was being crushed by a boulder, each breath a new wave of pain. “Lila is your sister. As the older one, you should give way to her,” my father said, his voice thick with annoyance, as if my defiance was a personal inconvenience. I instinctively looked at Ashton, the man who had sworn he loved me more than life itself. He just stood there, watching it all unfold with a cold detachment, offering no explanation. Lila was nestled safely in his arms. “Nora, he doesn’t love you anymore,” she whimpered. “We’re the ones in love. Please, just let us be together, okay?” “You still have the nerve to call him your ‘brother-in-law’?” I spat. “Have you no shame?” Blinded by rage, I lunged forward and slapped her across the face. In the ensuing chaos, Lila lost her footing and fell to the floor with a sharp cry. “Ah!” She let out a pained gasp, her face turning chalk-white as she clutched her stomach. “Lila!” Ashton’s expression changed instantly. “My stomach… it hurts so much,” she moaned, her voice trembling as the color drained from her face. Ashton swept her into his arms and raced for the hospital, pausing only to throw a look of pure hatred over his shoulder at me. But I saw it clearly. She had lost her balance on her own. It was only then that I understood. They hadn’t just started. They had been sneaking around for a long time, long enough for a child to have been conceived. A few hours later, the doctors confirmed the baby was lost. “Are you happy now?” my mother hissed, her body shaking with rage as she slapped me hard across the face. My cheek went numb, a loud ringing filling my ears. But no physical pain could compare to the agony tearing my heart apart. Everyone blamed me for Lila losing her baby. They demanded I get on my knees and beg for her forgiveness. Of course, I refused. The price of my defiance was steep. Ashton and my parents conspired, claiming I was “emotionally unstable with violent tendencies,” and had me forcibly committed to a remote psychiatric facility. “You did wrong, so you must be punished,” Ashton had said. “When you’ve had time to think about what you did and realize your mistake, we’ll come get you.” A cold, bitter laugh rose in my throat. Come back? Where was there to come back to? The moment I saw them together, I had already lost my place in the world. The days in that facility were a sunless blur. By the time my body was a wreck and my spirit was shattered, I was rushed to a hospital on the brink of death. While I was fighting for my life, my husband and my parents were on a vacation abroad with my sister, helping her “relax and recover.” It took a grueling eight-hour surgery to pull me back from the edge. When Ashton and my parents finally arrived at the hospital, I was already in a regular room. But as he looked at my skeletal frame, at the hollowed-out stranger in the hospital bed, the first words out of Ashton’s mouth were: “Do you know what you did wrong now?” His voice was as cold and hard as stone. “And don’t forget you still owe Lila an apology. You made her lose her child, and she’s still not over it, she almost fell into a depression. You should use this time to think about how you’re going to make it up to her.” Sorrow deeper than death washed over me. If my heart had died when they sent me to that facility, Ashton’s words now ground it into dust. In that moment, I didn’t even have the strength left to argue. My voice was an empty whisper, devoid of any feeling. “I know. I was wrong.” I was wrong. Wrong to have been so blind, to have loved a man as cruel and heartless as Ashton. Wrong to have foolishly hoped for affection from parents who so clearly played favorites. Ashton kept glancing at me in the rearview mirror, opening his mouth to speak several times, then closing it again. The silence stretched until the car came to a smooth stop in front of my building. I got out and offered a polite, detached thank you. “Thanks for the ride.” Just as I turned to leave, he couldn’t hold it in any longer. “Nora!” I turned back, waiting. “Why are you living in a place like this?” he asked, his eyes scanning the run-down complex. “These past years… have they been hard for you?” The streetlights were dim, casting long shadows on the peeling paint of the old buildings. Everything looked worn and tired. His eyes were red-rimmed, his voice hoarse. “If you need help…” “That won’t be necessary. I’m doing very well, but thank you for your concern.” I didn’t understand. How could the man who so callously threw me into the abyss now put on this act of deep, heartfelt concern? Ashton didn’t believe me, convinced I was just being stubborn. “Nora, you don’t have to lie to me. I can see it.” “I know you resent me,” he continued, “but even if we’re not together, we’re still family.” A small, humorless laugh escaped my lips. My expression was distant, almost bored. “You must be joking, Mr. Blackwood.” From the day I chose to leave, I no longer had a family. I would never forget those lonely days recovering in the hospital. After that first day, no one ever came to visit again. It was through the news on my phone that I learned the Blackwood and Miller families were busy planning a lavish wedding for Ashton and Lila. My parents, to prevent me from causing any trouble, had even instructed the hospital to keep me under strict watch. But they all underestimated me. On their wedding day, I didn’t show up to make a scene. I simply boarded a plane and flew away. As the plane took off, the night sky over the entire city of Crestwood was lit up by a spectacular fireworks display, celebrating their union. I thought I would never have to cross paths with those people again. But life is unpredictable. Fate, it seems, has a twisted sense of humor. “Nora, do you really hate me that much? Between us…” Ashton’s voice was urgent, his emotions fraying. I cut him off before he could finish. “There is no ‘us.’ That ended eight years ago.” Hate? In the beginning, right after I left, of course I hated him. But eight years is a long time. People change. The entanglements with Ashton and my family were burdens I had long since set down. Ashton’s voice was raw. “But that boy…” I knew it. I knew that after seeing Andy, his mind would start racing. “Andy has nothing to do with you.” Ashton and I… we were supposed to have a child. I had planned to tell him on our wedding day, a joyful surprise. Instead, he gave me a much bigger, much more horrifying “surprise.” The stay in the facility left me with a permanent scar on my wrist. The nerve damage was so severe that for a time, I couldn’t even use my right hand properly. But far more devastating was the internal trauma, the damage to my abdomen. It cost me my child. “Impossible! Don’t lie to me, he looks so much like me…” Ashton was convinced, refusing to believe my words. I cut him off again, my voice sharp. “Believe what you want, but the child is not yours. So please, stay out of our lives.” “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice thick with a pain he could no longer suppress. “Back then… I’m so sorry for what I did to you.” He was about to say more when a warm, kind voice called out from behind me. “Nora, dear, why are you just standing out here? Come on up.” It was Mrs. Gable. She’d gotten worried when I didn’t come home and had come down to check on me. She looked at the emotionally overwrought Ashton with a puzzled expression. “And who is this?” “A patient’s family member. He gave me a ride home.” I turned back to him. “Thank you for the lift. I have a busy day tomorrow. Goodnight.” I gave a slight nod, then went to Mrs. Gable, linking my arm through hers as we walked into the building. “What kept you so late again today?” she chided gently. “I told you, I’m perfectly fine. You don’t need to keep checking on me.” “I worry about you living alone, especially since you won’t move in with me,” I said, leaning my head on her shoulder like a child. This playful, carefree version of me was something Ashton hadn’t seen in eight long years. A deep, agonizing pain flickered in his eyes. Eight years ago, when I fled Crestwood, I arrived in this small coastal city, Port Blossom, a broken woman. Mrs. Gable took me in when I was at my lowest. She gave me a warmth and kindness I hadn’t felt in years, and with it, the courage to start living again. I don’t know when Ashton finally left. Frankly, I didn’t care. I only knew that when I left for work the next morning, the spot where his car had been parked was littered with cigarette butts.

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