Author: Momo Chan

Seraphina Harmon, heiress to one of the most powerful families in the city, was in a coma after a car crash. My brother was chosen to be her groom in a propitious marriage meant to bring her luck. But the day before the wedding, he completely snapped. “I won’t do it!” he screamed, his voice cracking with hysteria. “I’d rather die than marry her!” I was about to try and calm him down when shimmering text began to float in front of my eyes: 【The male lead has been reborn! This time, he can finally escape the Harmon family.】 【Imagine being married to a paralyzed woman in a vegetative state. Trapped in a sexless marriage for life.】 【Sure, it’s a top-tier family, a mansion, and unlimited money, but our MC is a man who craves a passionate, whirlwind romance!】 My eyes locked onto the key phrase: unlimited money. A brilliant light bulb went off in my head. “I’ll do it.” “I’ll marry her instead of my brother.” My brother, Ethan, was still sobbing in the living room. “Marry a woman in a coma? I’d rather die!” My parents had always doted on him. They saw this as a true injustice. My mother clenched her jaw. “Then don’t. I won’t let my son suffer like this.” My father looked worried. “But the Harmons… they’re not a family you can afford to cross.” “This marriage was only on the table because Ethan’s astrological chart was a perfect match for their daughter’s. If we back out now, what do you think they’ll do to us?” he fretted. He was the only one in this family with a shred of sense. But in the next second, he gritted his teeth too. “Forget it. Even if we offend the Harmons, even if we lose everything, we can’t ruin Ethan’s life!” The comments were touched. 【Thank god the MC was born into a loving family. His parents adore him.】 【If he’d been born into a family of leeches, he’d just be repeating his last life, dying miserable and unloved.】 【Last time, he was forced into the marriage. The Harmon’s luxurious estate was nothing but a gilded cage. Sure, he had endless money, servants, gourmet food, and designer clothes, but who could stand being married to a comatose wife? Our MC has always been a true romantic.】 【In his past life, he was torn from his college sweetheart, a beautiful but poor girl. Now that he’s been reborn, they can finally be together!】 So that was it. I’d been wondering why Ethan was acting so differently. He’d been reborn. My dad pulled out his phone, ready to call the Harmons and cancel the wedding. I lunged forward. “I’ll do it.” “I’ll take my brother’s place.” My dad’s thumb froze over the screen. I sprinted to my room, throwing my meager belongings into a suitcase with lightning speed. I slipped into the suit meant for my brother, dragged my suitcase back out to the living room, and screeched to a halt. My mother’s eyes lit up. “That’s right! We can just have Leo marry into the family!” My father’s face broke into a wide grin. “Of course! I almost forgot we had another son.” I was used to being ignored. It had been that way my whole life. “Mom, Dad, tell the Harmons not to bother sending a car tomorrow. I’m heading over right now.” I gave them a little wave. “See ya.” The moment the door clicked shut behind me, I heard a collective sigh of relief from inside, followed by the sounds of cheerful laughter as they sat down to dinner. I was happy too. I started humming a little tune. “Making it rain, dollar bills all day, every single one is gonna fall my way—” On the way to the Harmon estate, the comments popped up again. 【Wait… who is this guy?】 【He’s the MC’s younger brother. He’s barely mentioned in the book, just a background character with zero presence. I think his name is Leo Shaw or something.】 【Oh. He seems way too happy about this. Wait until he has to start changing catheters and giving sponge baths. The smile will fade fast.】 【Is it just me, or is his family incredibly biased? They’re both sons. When the older one is asked to marry a comatose woman, they’d risk everything to protect his happiness. But the younger one volunteers, and they don’t even bother to see him off.】 【So what? He’s a side character. My precious Ethan is the main character. The whole world is supposed to revolve around him.】 I ignored the comments, pretending I couldn’t see them. Inside, I was ecstatic. Changing catheters? Sponge baths? Big deal. At home, I slept in a cramped closet under the stairs and worked three part-time jobs just to get by. Now, I was marrying into one of the wealthiest families in the country. No more hustling, no more sleeping in a closet. And the best part? No nagging wife, and a bottomless bank account. This was the kind of life I couldn’t even have dreamed of. When I arrived at the gates of the Harmon Estate, my jaw dropped. It was enormous, spectacular. Truly the mark of an untouchable dynasty. I explained my purpose to the head butler, who drove me up to the main house in what looked like a high-end golf cart. A woman in a bespoke silk dress, the picture of refined elegance, looked me up and down. My suit was crisp, but I could feel her assessing gaze. “And you are?” “Mom.” I’ve always been quick with sweet talk. Since I was the substitute, I had to use my brother’s name. “It’s me, Ethan.” Her expression softened instantly. She came forward and took my hands. “My dear boy. The car was meant to pick you up tomorrow. Why have you come tonight?” “This is a wedding for luck, right? Let’s skip the formalities. The sooner I get here, the sooner Seraphina might wake up.” Seraphina was her only, precious daughter. My words brought tears to her eyes. “You poor child, this is so unfair to you.” “I’m not suffering at all.” “You are,” she insisted, pressing a bank card into my hand. “My dear son-in-law, here’s two million dollars. A little welcome gift from me.” “When Seraphina wakes up, I promise you, we will throw you the most magnificent wedding imaginable.” “Oh, I couldn’t possibly.” I said, pocketing the card. Mrs. Harmon told me my room was ready, and that I could redecorate if I didn’t like it. But first, she wanted me to see Seraphina. I had half-expected her to be monstrously disfigured, which would explain why Ethan was so dead-set against marrying her. I couldn’t have been more wrong. She was breathtaking. Perfectly sculpted features, skin like pale marble, wisps of dark hair falling softly across her forehead as she lay still in the bed. She looked like Sleeping Beauty. The comments went into a frenzy. 【How can a human being be this beautiful? This is God just showing off.】 【A stunning, aristocratic heiress. The very definition of old-money elegance. Even in a coma, she’s completely out of reach for ordinary people. The campus sweetheart my MC is so obsessed with looks like a common weed next to this rose.】 【I wish I could possess this substitute guy’s body. A gorgeous wife who never wakes up and unlimited money? I want to live that carefree, lavish life.】 【Suddenly I don’t get the MC. How could he not want this?】 【You can’t look at it that way. She’s still just a body. She can’t give him any emotional connection. The MC wants love, not just comfort. The thought of emptying her catheter bag is probably what grosses him out.】 I don’t want love. I want comfort. I rolled up my sleeves to grab the catheter bag, but Mrs. Harmon stopped me. “Ethan, what are you doing?” “Emptying her bag.” “You don’t have to do that,” she said, her voice gentle. “We have nurses for that.” “All you need to do is sit with her. Talk to her.” “If you can help Seraphina wake up, anything you want, I will give it to you.” All I’d done was call her “Mom” and she’d given me two million dollars. I felt like I hadn’t earned it. “Mom, let me at least give her a sponge bath.” “You go and rest. I’ll stay with Seraphina. I promise, I’ll do my best to help her wake up soon.” Tears welled in her eyes again. She looked so proud, so moved by my devotion. She took off a stunning, high-grade jade bracelet from her own wrist and slipped it onto mine. “Then I’ll leave her in your care. Don’t overwork yourself.” This was my kind of mother-in-law. When in doubt, just throw money at the problem. After she left, I practically drooled. I grabbed a washcloth and excitedly began to unbutton Seraphina’s silk pajamas. “Hey, wifey. It’s your husband.” “Here’s a little secret: I’m actually an imposter.” “Your real fiancé didn’t want to marry you. Said he didn’t want to be stuck with a vegetable.” “Everything I just told your mom was a lie. So please, whatever you do, don’t you dare wake up, okay?” “Hahaha—” I cackled with glee. I was so absorbed, I didn’t even notice her finger twitch. “Whoops, sorry, drooled on you again. Let me just wipe that off.” Lost in my admiration of her beauty, I was startled by a sudden, frantic beeping. Seraphina’s heart monitor was going crazy. Mrs. Harmon heard the alarm and rushed in with the family doctor. I stood there, chewing my fingernails. Was she… dying? My new life couldn’t be over before it even started. The doctor checked her vitals and turned to Mrs. Harmon. “Don’t worry, Madam. An emotional response is a good sign.” “Even though she’s unconscious, she can still hear what’s going on around her.” “She must have heard something exciting or agitating. That’s why her heart rate spiked.” What? She can hear? She heard every single horrible thing I just said! No wonder her heart rate spiked. I’d pissed her off from beyond the veil of consciousness. “Ethan, you’re our lucky star!” Mrs. Harmon exclaimed, beaming. She handed me another card. “You’ve only just arrived, and Seraphina is already showing improvement. It seems the marriage for luck was the right choice.” “This one has no limit. Take a few bodyguards and go on a shopping spree tomorrow.” “Thanks, Mom.” Not wanting to agitate Seraphina any further, I went to my own room to sleep. If she knew I was an imposter, I’d be finished the moment she woke up. I opened the door to my new bedroom and gasped. The décor was unbelievably opulent. Later that night, I tossed in my sleep and vaguely saw a figure standing by my bed, its gaze burning into me. I shot up like a jack-in-the-box. “Hi-yah!” I launched a kick, sending the figure flying. I flipped on the light and saw a life-sized cardboard cutout of Seraphina lying on the floor. The comments appeared: 【LMAO. Mrs. Harmon was worried they wouldn’t bond, so she put a cutout of Seraphina in his room to ‘build intimacy.’】 Honestly, that mother-in-law of mine. She had too much time on her hands. Scared the life out of me. “Hey, man.” The next morning, I was on the phone with one hand, wiping Seraphina’s face with a washcloth with the other. Her pale skin was turning red under my scrubbing, and the heart monitor started beeping again, the rising line a silent scream of: You’re hurting me! I tossed the cloth aside. I wasn’t even pressing that hard. Her skin was ridiculously delicate. “Wanna go shopping? I’m paying for everything today.” “Did you get paid?” my friend Alex asked. We went way back; if I struck it rich, there was no way I was forgetting him. “Let’s go to that all-you-can-eat buffet we saw,” Alex suggested. “They have a special on, only forty-five bucks a person.” “Forget the buffet,” I said, plopping down on Seraphina’s bed and crossing my legs. “I’m rich now. I married into a wealthy family.” “And my wife’s in a coma,” I whispered, covering my mouth to stifle a laugh. “Today, we’re hitting the designer stores. When we get tired, we’ll eat at a five-star restaurant.” “After that, we’ll hit up a high-end club, get a table, maybe find a dozen girls to party with.” “Are you serious?” Alex’s voice cracked. “Beep-beep-beeeeeep—” The line on Seraphina’s heart monitor shot straight up. A vein was actually throbbing on her temple. “Gotta go, see you in a bit.” I hung up. In my excitement, I’d forgotten she could hear me. I leaned over her. “Hey now, wifey, don’t get excited. I’m a traditional, faithful man.” “I would never cheat on you.” “I’m only going out to spend money and eat good food for your sake. You know what they say, husband and wife are one. Since you’re stuck in bed, I have to go out and consume things on your behalf.” “If I eat it, it’s like you ate it. If I have fun, it’s like you had fun. Everything I do, I do it for you. I hope you can understand my noble intentions.” You just lie there and rest easy, I thought. I’ll gladly take care of your massive fortune for you. Gazing at her flawlessly beautiful face, I leaned down and planted a loud smooch on her lips. So soft. How was she even real? She was exquisite. I kissed her a few more times, smudging off all her lipstick. The comments were furious. 【Seraphina has severe mysophobia! She hates being touched by men! Leo is such a scumbag, taking advantage of her when she can’t move.】 Hey now, she’s my wife. What’s wrong with a few kisses? Their outrage just made me want to do it more. I kissed her a few more times for good measure, then put on my sunglasses and sauntered out. “Bye, wifey! I’m off to have some fun. No, wait… I’m off to have some fun for you.” “And don’t worry. I’m a traditional, faithful man. I would never cheat on you.” Man, even the air smelled sweeter when you were rich. This was the life. After I left, the woman in the bed suddenly shot upright, and a mouthful of blood sprayed from her lips.

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1 After the deep memory erasure, I forgot. I forgot Dante, the commander who was my fiancé, the one who personally forged me into the weapon I was. I forgot Luna, the ‘sister’ I rescued, who then stole everything from me. I forgot everything about Acheron, the clandestine organization of ‘cleaners’… I faked my own death to break free, disappearing into an old bookstore in Sicily. Everyone assumed I was just sulking, that I’d soon tire of a mediocre life and crawl back under his protection. Until one evening, my bookstore saw no customers. From the shadows between the shelves, several men who had long been lurking in the darkness emerged. Their leader’s voice was a low growl. “Why haven’t you ever responded to Mr. Volkov’s recall orders these past few years? Do you have any idea that he wiped out the entire council of elders for you?” The hand I was using to straighten books paused. “I’m sorry, I’ve had my memory erased. Who is this Mr. Volkov you’re talking about?” Silence, as cold and vast as a frozen tundra, spread through the room. A sudden, inexplicable tremor seized my heart. I instinctively glanced out the window. Across the street, shrouded in the deepening twilight, a tall, lean silhouette stood in the gloom, its gaze fixed on me like a shard of ice. … I found out about Dante Volkov and Luna Snow on the morning of our wedding day. I couldn’t find him and assumed he’d been called away for an urgent termination order. Instead, I found him on the manor’s terrace, kissing the girl I had rescued, Luna, his arms wrapped tightly around her. I walked toward them without a sound, my hand raising to strike his throat. My fingertips were inches from his carotid artery when Luna shoved me, hard, into the swimming pool. The instant the back of my head cracked against the concrete wall, a dead, chilling clarity settled over me. It was happening again. Every single important person in my life would eventually orbit around Luna. I had saved Luna five years ago from a human trafficking ring in Southeast Asia. I took her in when she was fifteen, adopting her as my younger sister. I taught her intelligence analysis, brought her into my team, and gave her the cleanest job in the logistics division. She was innocent, sweet, always smiling—a flower cultivated in a hothouse. After every bloody mission, she would have a hot meal waiting for everyone. My teammates, men who lived and breathed on the edge of a knife, were slowly won over by her domestic warmth, their initial wariness melting away. “Finally, a real woman on the team,” they’d say, not even bothering to lower their voices when I was around. Now, it seemed the man I had loved for a decade, the man who was supposed to exchange rings with me today, was no exception. When I woke up in the organization’s infirmary, Dante was sitting by my bed. But his first words weren’t about my injury. “Nyx, don’t misunderstand. Luna was just playing around… If you don’t like it, I’ll be more careful next time.” “You’re the one who saved her. She has no one, and she’s suffered so much. Don’t hold it against her, okay?” I looked at the old bullet scar on his collarbone, a wound he’d taken for me, and suddenly, I laughed. “Dante, are you saying all this because you’re afraid I’ll get rid of her behind your back?” His gaze hardened. He gripped my hand, his knuckles white, ignoring my question. “I know you’re angry, but infighting is strictly forbidden within the organization.” “This ends here. We’ll postpone the wedding to next week. Don’t become a joke to the lower ranks.” I pulled my hand away and stared out at the black night sky. He was about to say more, but his encrypted communicator vibrated. My assassin’s eyes were sharp enough to see the name on the screen: Luna. The message said she was frightened, that her heart was palpitating. He glanced at me, his tone softening slightly. “A new target has surfaced. I have to go set up the perimeter myself. You get some rest.” He was gone before I could reply, his steps quicker than I’d ever seen them on a mission. He never came back that night. Lying on the infirmary bed, my gaze fell on a pop-up ad on my phone: 【Memory Matrix Override: Reshape your past, forge a new future.】 I have always been ruthless. I don’t tolerate filth. Once something is tainted, I won’t touch it again. So, Dante, and the ten years of entanglement that came with him… I was done with it all. I walked out of the lab for the “Phoenix Protocol” feeling as if my brain had been wiped clean by a precision instrument—clear, but empty. Portions of my past felt locked away in an encrypted database. I knew they existed, but I had lost both the clearance and the desire to access them. The recoding required two phases. In seventy-two hours, I would need a final consolidation. Relying on the muscle memory that remained, I made my way back to my apartment in the organization’s safe house. The retinal scan chimed its approval, and the door slid open. The sound of boisterous laughter spilled out. “To Luna’s success on the Eastern Europe mission! A real credit to the organization!” I stepped into the living room, and the chatter died instantly. Dante stood up, asking with a hint of reluctance, “Does your head still hurt?” I touched the bruise on the back of my head, my voice flat. “Even if my injuries were ten times worse, you would never lay a hand on the person who caused them for my sake.” The atmosphere in the room froze. Mara, my partner for years, stepped forward to smooth things over, a strained smile on her face. “Nyx, you’re back just in time. We’re celebrating Luna’s success. The intel she provided led to a clean termination, and she received a personal commendation from the Director.” She pressed a gift box into my hands. “You’re the one who brought Luna to Acheron. It’s only fitting that you, her mentor, give this to her.” I didn’t want to cause a scene before I left. I held the box out to Luna. She reached for it, but the moment our fingers touched, the box fell to the floor. The tactical watch inside, a high-end model, shattered on impact. Luna’s eyes reddened, and tears began to fall. “Nyx… I know you’re angry with me… but this was a gift from everyone. How could you…” She sobbed. “Are you still mad? I was just joking with Dante… you misunderstood…” Seeing her tears, the others rushed to comfort her, then turned their accusations on me. “Nyx, that’s enough. Luna works hard cooking for us, and she just scored a major success. Can’t you let her be happy for one day?” “Walking around with that long face all the time, you think you’re in some kind of tragedy?” I looked at their faces, once familiar, now alien, and felt a profound disappointment. The most displeased among them was the man I had loved for a decade. “That’s enough,” Dante said, his voice carrying the weight of a commander, silencing the room. He bent down, picked up the broken watch, and placed it back in my palm. “Luna was acting on the Director’s authority this time. Her contribution was significant.” “It doesn’t matter that the gift is broken, I’ll have it repaired. Give it to her again, properly. And from now on, you will treat her well.” His voice was low, a feigned attempt at placation, but the fingers gripping my wrist tightened, the pressure on the bone excruciating. I violently wrenched my hand away. “There’s no need. She and I will not be working together again.” I took a step back. “I’m moving out.” Before the words had even settled, Luna’s sobs escalated. “Nyx… are you trying to kick me out of Acheron?” She turned to Dante, tears streaming down her face. “Dante, what do I do? The people out there will eat me alive…” Dante’s face was ashen. His eyes, when they met mine, were filled with cold accusation. “Nyx, are you really using your seniority to bully a defenseless girl? Have you no shame?” Before I could speak, my teammates chimed in. “You know the rules, Nyx. If it’s a choice between the two of you, she’s the one who has to go! You’re sending her to her death!” “What a cold-blooded, ungrateful killer. You’re just as vicious with your own people.” Mara looked conflicted, grabbing my arm. “Nyx, let it go! You were a young girl once too. Show some mercy…” I looked at her, and my heart plunged into an icy sea. Years ago, on a mission, she had triggered an alarm. I was already clear, but I went back in for her, alone, and dragged her out of a pile of corpses. She had clung to me, covered in blood, and sworn she owed me her life. Now, she stood against me, pleading for the girl who had stolen my fiancé. “Mara, leaving is my own choice. And I never said I was kicking her out…” “Have you made enough of a scene?” Dante cut me off, his voice sharp. “This is all because you’re jealous.” He soothed Luna with one hand while glaring at me. “It’s all my fault. Take it out on me. Luna is young and naive, why are you so fixated on punishing her?” The emotional turmoil, combined with the instability from the memory erasure, sent a sharp pain lancing through my temples. I had no desire to say another word. I pressed my fingers to my throbbing forehead and turned to leave. “Nyx! Don’t go, I’m begging you…” Luna suddenly lunged forward, falling to her knees and clinging to my leg. Her sharp nails dug into the flesh of my ankle. It was pure instinct. My leg muscles tensed, and I flexed to break her grip. I barely used any force, but to the others, it looked like I had kicked her away. She let out a piercing scream and fell backward, her left hand bending at a sickeningly unnatural angle. Dante shoved me aside. “Nyx, you’ve disappointed me more than I can say!” Luna cradled her wrist. “My fingers… I can’t move them…” He scooped her up, his eyes on me filled with a revulsion I had never seen before. “All of logistics, communications, and intel analysis depends on her hands. You were trying to cripple her?” He carried the weeping, near-fainting Luna past me, leaving me with one final, bone-chilling sentence. “Nyx, if you don’t want to hold a knife anymore, then get out and see what the real world is like! See how long you last without the organization.” The last vestiges of sound drained from the room as they all left. Even the newest recruit, as he passed me, sneered, “Give it up, old woman. Learn to accept you’re past your prime instead of fighting with the young girls. Take a look in the mirror.” My nails dug into my palms. I held back my rage. Dante’s call came while I was in the Director’s office, formally requesting to leave the organization. The Director’s voice was placid. “Nyx, you paid off your contract years ago. Your value to this organization has since exceeded that amount tenfold.” He looked up, his gaze sharp. “I just don’t understand. Your wedding to Dante is imminent. Why quit now?” I gave a bitter laugh. “There’s no future for us…” I trailed off, noticing my communicator was lit up. I had accidentally answered the call. Dante’s voice crackled from the speaker. “Nyx, what did you just say?” I pressed the device to my ear, my voice flat. “I’m outside. You misheard.” A moment of silence, then his tone softened. “You forgot your dagger here. Do you want to come get it?” It was a folding dagger we had taken from a target’s safe on our first mission together, ten years ago. He had later engraved our initials on the hilt. “If I ever betray you,” he’d said, “use this to pierce my heart.” For ten years, I had treasured it, never letting it leave my side. Now, I had lost all interest. “Leave it with you for now,” I said coolly. “We’ll see.” After I hung up, the Director pushed an encrypted data chip across the desk. “This is what you’ve earned. It’s enough for you to start over anywhere. As for your other choices, the organization will not interfere.” Back at my apartment, the headache forced me to bed early. I was woken in the dead of night by the soft sound of footsteps. I sat bolt upright and saw Dante. “I came to bring you your dagger.” He placed it on the nightstand. I glanced at it. “Thanks. You didn’t have to make a special trip.” He shook his head. “It’s been with you for ten years. It’s seen everything we’ve been through.” “Nyx, we’ve been together for a decade. We’ve faced death so many times. Why are you letting one little thing push us to this point?” Fragments of memory swirled in my mind. The time he shielded me on a mission, taking a bullet to the shoulder that almost cost him his arm. The time in the jungle when my legs were injured by an explosion, and he carried me for sixty miles to get help. The first time I took the fall for him, enduring torture, and he had looked at me with red-rimmed eyes and sworn he would never fail me… Those were the good times. His voice dragged me back to the present. “Luna’s fingers are just fractured, but she needs to rest.” “You’ll cover her logistics work for a few days. Our wedding is next week. We have to maintain some semblance of order for the team.” I spoke calmly. “Dante, I don’t want to marry you anymore. Why should I put on a show for anyone?” He stared at me as if I’d told a preposterous joke. “Nyx, when did you learn to play these manipulative games?” “You’re regressing. I’m losing my patience for this.” I looked down, a sarcastic smile playing on my lips. Dante, do you really believe I can’t live without you? Seeing my silence, his last shred of patience evaporated. “Fine. Cool off. Luna needs me, her fever won’t break. I have to go.” The door slammed shut with a deafening thud. When I woke the next morning, my eyes fell on the dagger on the nightstand. In the pale light, I could clearly see the engraved initials: “D.V. & L.S.” L.S. Luna Snow. This wasn’t my dagger. I opened the secret compartment in the nightstand. My dagger was inside, its hilt engraved with “D.V. & N.” I see. Even a token of our shared life and death, he could have a copy made for her. Without a moment’s hesitation, I contacted security and had all my access to the safe house revoked. I packed my bags and checked into a cash-only capsule hotel in the city center. The world around me was a chaotic, unfamiliar tapestry of human life. It required constant vigilance, but it also gave me a sense of freedom I had never known. The next day, however, I received an urgent directive from Dante, summoning me to the infirmary. I didn’t want to go, but my funds hadn’t been fully transferred yet. I went, fearing complications. I had just stepped into the familiar corridor when a figure blurred toward me. Dante slammed me against the metal wall, his forearm pressed against my throat, his eyes burning with undisguised fury. “Tell me! What did you do to Luna?” His voice was a low, guttural snarl, each word a poisoned dart. “You know what she went through as a child. She has severe PTSD. Are you going to drive her insane over your petty jealousy?” “It wasn’t me.” The pressure on my throat made my voice hoarse. “I haven’t been here for two days.” Mara and the other core team members emerged, but no one moved to intervene. Their eyes were cold with suspicion. “Nyx, there’s no point in denying it,” Mara said. “Who else has the skills to bypass all the surveillance, sneak in here in the middle of the night to terrorize her, without even Dante noticing?” As if on cue, Luna’s tearful voice drifted from the hospital room. I shoved Dante away and walked in. Luna was huddled in the corner of her bed. “Look closely,” I said. “Was the person last night me?” She flinched as if bitten by a snake, her pupils dilating as she looked up. She let out an even more piercing scream. “Ah—don’t touch me! I’ll give Dante back to you, just please, leave me alone!” She grabbed a metal water cup from her nightstand and threw it at me. I dodged, but the rim grazed my brow, and blood trickled down past my eye. Dante shielded Luna with his body and roared at me, “Get out! Don’t you come near her!” The others immediately surrounded her, murmuring words of comfort, their glares full of condemnation. I wiped the blood from my face and walked out. After I had cleaned the cut, Dante found me. His expression was still grim. “Luna is unstable. Try to be more understanding.” I met his gaze. “It’s fine. I won’t hold it against her. You, on the other hand, have a mission to run and a patient to care for. It must be difficult.” He was visibly taken aback, clearly not expecting me to say that. “It’s good that you understand.” He raised a hand to check the cut on my brow, but I stepped back, avoiding his touch. His hand froze in mid-air before slowly clenching into a fist. I looked at him, my expression unreadable. “But I must be clear. This had nothing to do with me.” A sarcastic smirk touched his lips, full of unquestionable arrogance. “In all of Acheron, who else has the ability? Did Luna frame herself? She doesn’t have the cunning for that.” Seeing his conviction, I realized any defense was pointless. I took a deep breath, ready to say the words. “Dante, we’re over—” “Dante, trouble!” Mara came running up. “Luna’s having another episode! She’s curled up in the corner crying, and won’t let anyone near her.” Dante’s face changed. He turned and sprinted back toward the room. Watching his retreating back, I finished the sentence in my mind. Tomorrow was the second phase of the memory recoding. Then, he, Acheron, and this whole nauseating affair would be sealed away for good. I turned to leave the suffocating place. As I reached the ground floor, I heard soft footsteps behind me. Before I could react, a sharp, precise pain struck the back of my neck, and I plunged into darkness. I awoke to a throbbing headache. I was strapped to a metal chair. Looking around, I realized I was in the organization’s deep interrogation chamber. The door opened, and Dante walked in, his face as cold and impassive as a machine. My voice was weak with anger. “What do you think you’re doing? Let me go!” He shook his head. “Luna has been diagnosed with severe PTSD with intermittent amnesia. The doctor said the tendons in her fingers are permanently damaged. She’ll have trouble lifting anything heavy for the rest of her life.” “And what does that have to do with me?” I shot back. He stood over me, his shadow eclipsing me. “You used unauthorized force on a logistics officer, a severe violation of our code. As a commander, I must act impartially.” He gave a slight nod to the door, and two masked executioners entered. “Begin.” Dante signed the order, his pen strokes sharp and vicious. My voice trembled. “Dante, how can you do this to me?” He didn’t even look at me. He turned and left, closing the door firmly behind him. One of the executioners approached, inserting several fine needles connected to a device into the back of my neck and my temples. He leaned in, his voice a distorted, gleeful hiss. “Sister Nyx, someone asked me to give you special attention. Don’t worry, I guarantee you won’t have a single scar.” The moment the device was activated, an indescribable agony exploded in my head. It felt like a thousand red-hot needles were being driven into my brain, piercing and scrambling my nerves. Every muscle in my body began to spasm uncontrollably. My eyes felt like they were about to burst from their sockets. I bit through my lip, the taste of blood flooding my mouth, but I didn’t make a sound. I don’t know how long it lasted. When the restraints were released, I slid from the chair to the floor. My vision was blurry, my ears were ringing, and the world felt distant and muted. They threw me into a confinement cell like a piece of trash. I spent the entire night in complete darkness, curled up, cradling my broken body. The next day, the door opened. Dante stood silhouetted against the light. I used the wall to pull myself up and staggered past him, every step like walking on knives. “There were too many witnesses last night. I had to make an example of you.” He watched me, his expression complicated. “I know you hate me, but rules are rules. I couldn’t let you get away with hurting Luna.” “Rest for a while… I’ll take over your missions for now.” He followed me, his words a constant assault on my frayed nerves. Just then, Luna’s piercing scream echoed down the hall. “Dante—where are you? I’m so scared!” Dante paused. He looked at me, then finally just said, “Go back to your room. Don’t cause any more trouble.” Then he turned, without hesitation, and ran toward the sound of her voice. At the same moment, my communicator lit up. The final transfer of my funds was complete. I gritted my teeth against the pain, walked out of the building, hailed a taxi, and gave the address of the lab. Lying back in the chair, the doctor attached the sensors to my temples. “Once the program begins, you will fall into a deep sleep. When you awaken, all your troubles will be gone.” I closed my eyes, feeling my consciousness being drawn away, piece by piece. Countless vivid memories, like photographs set ablaze, slowly turned to a gray, empty ash, and were utterly annihilated…

My fiancée’s first love came back to the country. With cancer. Ever since she found out, she’s been… distant. Lost in thought. I didn’t think much of it. There was no point in getting worked up over a dying man. But then he whispered one sentence to her: “I want to spend my last days with you.” And for that, my fiancée drugged me. Hypnotized me. “Three months, Thomas. Just give me three months.” “Forget me. After three months, I’ll be all yours again.” And just like that, the woman named Ava Johnston vanished from my memory. Later, she walked down the aisle in a white dress, married that man, and lived out three months of idyllic bliss before returning to me as promised. “Thomas, let’s get married.” I just stared at her, completely lost. “I’m sorry, who are you?” 1 “Ava, you have to try this one.” Inside the bridal boutique, I held up a gown I’d painstakingly chosen, certain it was the one for her. When my eyes met hers, I noticed they were rimmed with red. “What’s wrong, Ava?” I chuckled, gently stroking her hair. “Why the tears all of a sudden? Getting emotional thinking about the wedding?” Her voice trembled as she looked up at me, barely a whisper. “He’s back.” “Hmm?” I leaned in, not quite catching it. That’s when her phone screen tilted into my view, completely by accident. A familiar name burned into my retinas. Jacob Lin. Ava’s first love. I’d known about him for years, of course. But whenever his name came up, Ava was always so dismissive, as if he were a stranger she barely remembered. It had been, what, six or seven years since they broke up? That’s an eternity. Long enough to bury even the deepest feelings. I just never imagined his return would hit her this hard. The smile faded from my face, my voice becoming flat. “So? What if he’s back? Does that mean we stop trying on dresses? That we don’t get married?” Ava flinched, her voice strained. “No, Thomas, you’ve got it all wrong. It’s just… he said he has terminal cancer. He won’t live more than three months.” “I don’t mean anything by it,” she rushed to add. “It’s just sad, you know? Someone so full of life just… gone.” “Thomas, he’s in the past. There’s nothing between us anymore.” “Don’t overthink it.” But Ava, all I did was ask a simple question, and you look like you’ve just committed the crime of the century. The mood for dress shopping was shattered. We left in silence. The drive home was heavy, thick with unspoken words. Back at our apartment, Ava threw herself onto the sofa, her gaze unfocused, lost somewhere I couldn’t follow. I took a deep breath and knelt by her feet. “What else did he say to you?” A long time passed before she answered. So long I thought she hadn’t heard me. Then, her voice drifted across the room. “He wants me to be with him, at the end.” My hand, holding a glass of water, paused mid-air. I asked, trying to sound casual, “And you said yes?” “No.” She seemed to pull herself together, forcing a brittle smile. “Of course not. Who am I to him? Why would I agree to something like that?” A lie. She couldn’t even look at me. I closed my eyes, deciding not to call her on it. “You’re right not to. If anyone should be by his side, it’s his family, his friends.” Ava’s rebuttal was instant, automatic. “He doesn’t have any close friends. His parents died a couple of years ago. He’s always been—” She cut herself off. 2 Facing my gaze, which felt like it could see right through her, Ava scrambled for an excuse. She grabbed a jacket. “I just remembered, there’s something I need to check on at the lab.” She’d forgotten. She had specifically cleared her schedule today for the dress fitting, arranging everything at the lab beforehand. She didn’t need to go. Her heart was in chaos. I carried my glass to the balcony and watched her hurry away, saying nothing. People hold on to the past. I get it. Even if Ava’s reaction was more intense than I’d expected, I could tolerate it. After all, what kind of trouble could a dying man really cause? As for Ava, I would give her time to sort herself out. Being sentimental isn’t a fatal flaw. I tried to be understanding. Ava didn’t come home that night. When she finally returned, she acted as if nothing had happened. She threw her arms around me, her voice sweet and clingy. “I’m so exhausted, honey. You have no idea how draining that experiment was.” She didn’t mention him, and neither did I. It was one of those unspoken pacts adults make. She then offered to cook dinner for me. I took it as an apology for her behavior the day before and gladly accepted. At the dinner table, she brought up where she’d been. “Actually, I went to see Jacob last night.” “He’s changed so much. I barely recognized him from the person I remember.” “Thomas, we had something real, you know? A real connection.” “If we hadn’t been so young and reckless back then, we might never have broken up.” “Honestly, we were childhood sweethearts. Seeing him like this… I just can’t leave him high and dry.” She kept talking, and a strange thing happened. I knew I should be angry. But a heavy grogginess washed over me. My limbs felt like lead, and even speaking was an effort. A bitter realization dawned on me. She had done something to my food. I managed a weak, wry smile. “So you agreed?” To his three-month request? Ava’s hand drifted to a small box she’d brought back with her. She gave a soft, “Mmm.” My eyes fixed on it. “What’s that?” 3 Ava went silent. Her fingers traced the edges of the music box, her expression a storm of indecision. I asked her again what was in the box. She slowly lifted her head, the conflict in her eyes finally giving way to a soft apology. “Thomas, I’m not going to hurt you. I just need you to forget me for three months. After three months, we’ll go back to being us, the loving couple we’ve always been.” Forget her for three months? The horrifying truth clicked into place. I stared at the box. “Is that a hypnosis device?” “Yes. It’s the latest project from my lab. It can make you forget me for exactly three months.” The hesitation in Ava’s eyes was hardening into resolve. I knew her. Once she made a decision, she saw it through. I didn’t move. I didn’t try to run. A knot of grief tightened in my chest, a bitter sting rising in my nose. A wave of profound sadness crashed over me. “Since it’s a new prototype,” I asked, my voice thick with self-mockery, “aren’t you worried something could go wrong? What if… what if I forget you for longer than three months?” Ava, her hand poised to open the box, froze. The certainty in her eyes wavered, replaced again by doubt. But it was only for a second. Her resolve returned, and she continued opening the lid. “I have faith in my work. In three months, I will come back to you, and you will still love me!” Her words hung in the air as she threw the music box open, giving herself no chance to back down. A brilliant white light bloomed from within, accompanied by a strange, ethereal melody that assaulted my senses. The world began to swim, and Ava’s voice echoed in my ears, a soothing, hypnotic chant. “Thomas Song, I love you. I really, really love you. But Jacob is dying, and I have to be with him for this final journey.” “Thomas Song, forget me. Forget Ava. Your life has never included a person named Ava.” “10… 9… 8… 7… 6… 1…” Her voice grew fainter, more distant. I slumped onto the sofa, the last two words circling in my mind: Ava Johnston. But… who was Ava Johnston? 4 When I woke up, sunlight was streaming into the room. I ran a hand through my messy hair, confused by the blanket draped over me. Did I fall asleep on the sofa? Who covered me? Maybe one of my buddies crashed here? Just then, my phone rang. It was my best friend, Leo. He launched right in, his voice a chaotic buzz. “Thomas! Dude, you’re getting married tomorrow! I’m heading over in a bit to help decorate. Don’t you dare touch anything, you and your disaster-zone decorating skills would make the place look like a dumpster fire.” Huh? Married? I was completely lost. I checked the caller ID. Yep, definitely Leo. Sounded like him, too. Only he would insult my decorating abilities so creatively. But… since when was I getting married? “I’m getting married? What are you talking about?” “What?” Leo sounded even more shocked than I was. “Thomas, are you still half-asleep? You’re marrying Ava! You seriously don’t know?” Ava? Who the hell was Ava? I shot back immediately, “Don’t mess with me, man. I don’t know any Ava. I’ve been single forever!” “You’ve been dating for years! Are you messing with me? Look at the damn wall, dude! Your wedding photos are all over the place!” No way. I scrambled to my feet and looked around. There were no pictures anywhere. The walls were bare… wait. On the living room wall, there was a strange, blank rectangle, with faint traces of adhesive around the edges. It looked like a frame used to hang there, but it had been taken down. I tried to remember what I might have hung there, but drew a blank. I shrugged it off. “Leo, there are no wedding photos here. And who is Ava…?” A sudden, absurd thought hit me. “You didn’t set me up with a ghost, did you? After all we’ve been through, you’d do that to me?” “A ghost? I’ll show you a ghost! Stay put, I’m coming over to knock some sense into you!” 5 Leo stormed in, yelling that I deserved a punch in the face. But I honestly couldn’t remember anyone named Ava, or any wedding. He snatched my phone and pulled up my social media feed. “Eight out of every ten posts are about her! See for yourself!” I looked. Nothing. My most recent post was from three years ago: “Happy New Year.” Leo froze, scrolling furiously up and down, completely baffled. “Did you delete everything? Or did Ava? Did you two have a fight?” I threw my hands up. “I seriously don’t know her.” Leo studied my face, then quickly started a video call with this “Ava.” The call connected, revealing a sterile, but cozy, hospital room. The woman named Ava smiled calmly into the camera. “Leo, what’s up?” “Ava, what did you do to him? He’s acting crazy, says he doesn’t know you!” Leo shoved the phone in my face, forcing a confrontation. I looked at the woman on the screen. A complete stranger. No recognition at all. Her eyes flickered, studying me with a mix of probing curiosity and expectation. “Thomas, hello.” “Oh, hi. You must be Ava?” I said politely. She subtly relaxed, a flicker of relief crossing her face. She seemed pleased with my reaction. “I’m Ava. We were together, but you fell and hit your head at home and forgot about me. When you remember, I’ll come back to you.” “For now,” she continued, her gaze shifting slightly, as if inventing the story on the spot, “my brother has cancer, and I have to take care of him. I hope you don’t mind.” Her story sounded so rehearsed it made me suspicious. Who was this person, and why was she lying to me? Before I could ask, a man in the hospital bed behind her started coughing violently. Ava’s attention snapped to him. She gave me a quick wave and ended the call. Leo was completely lost. “What the hell does she mean? Like you forgetting her is no big deal? And that guy in the bed is her brother? Since when does she have a brother?” The man was bundled up, wearing a cap that obscured his face, but I could feel his eyes on me the whole time. I didn’t know him. So I didn’t care. “You guys have fried my brain. I’m done. Let’s go grab some wings.” “Hold on. Something’s not right with Ava,” Leo said, shaking his head. “I’m going to the hospital to check things out for you. You stay here.” And with that, he appointed himself chief detective and rushed off to the hospital, determined to get to the bottom of it. By the time he came back, I’d bought a mountain of snacks and was vegging out in front of the TV. Leo burst in, shouting, “Thomas, how can you just sit there and eat? Ava’s cheating on you! She’s at the hospital taking care of some guy named Jacob Lin! He’s not her brother!” I didn’t even pause, just stuffed another chip in my mouth. “Don’t know him. Not my problem. Not interested.” “She’s your fiancée! She’s about to check that guy out of the hospital, and they’re going to have a wedding and go on a honeymoon!” Leo’s face was dark with anger. He’d heard it all from the nurses. They were all touched by Ava’s devotion, praising her for sticking by her cancer-stricken boyfriend to fulfill his dying wish. A true saint, they called her. I thought about it for a second, then broke into a grin. “Look on the bright side. If she really was my future wife, this is great news, right? At least we didn’t actually get married.” “And if she was going to cheat on me anyway,” I added, “isn’t forgetting her the best thing that could’ve happened?” Leo stared at me, speechless. 6 Leo couldn’t argue with my logic, but he wasn’t ready to let it go. He went back to digging for more information on Ava. Just three days later, Ava and this Jacob Lin held their wedding. It was a simple ceremony in a small chapel. No family, no friends. Just the two of them, hand in hand, exchanging emotional vows. Leo showed me a video he’d secretly recorded, his anger simmering. “What is wrong with her? You, her actual fiancé, forget who she is, and she just turns around and marries someone else? What is she playing at?” “Probably just helping the guy fulfill a last wish,” I reasoned. “You said he has cancer, right? Marrying Ava must have been his dream.” Leo considered this, which only made him angrier. So he went digging again. This time, he came back with an update: Ava and Jacob were on a trip. Looked like a cross-country tour. They probably wouldn’t be back until they’d seen it all. And he was right. Leo couldn’t find a trace of Ava after that. He decided he’d just have to wait for her to come back to give her a piece of his mind. I was perfectly happy with that. At least Leo would finally stop bugging me. For the next three months, I slipped back into my blissful single life. I couldn’t have been happier. Except… sometimes, in the dead of night, I’d wake from a dream and my arm would reach for the empty space beside me. It would find nothing, but the gesture felt so natural, as if someone was supposed to be there. I’d jolt awake, staring at the empty side of the bed, a hollow ache in my chest, my eyes surprisingly damp. It was the strangest feeling. Could it be… The place was haunted! Yeah, that had to be it. Definitely haunted. I started crashing at Leo’s place after that. On the last day of the third month, I went back to my apartment to grab some things and found a package at the door. I opened it. Inside were photos. Piles and piles of them. Wedding photos, landscape shots, selfies, posed pictures. They all had one thing in common: only two people appeared in them. Ava and Jacob. Their happiness radiated from every print. Beneath the stack of photos was a letter. I opened it. It was from Jacob, addressed to me. Thomas Song, I don’t know how Ava convinced you to be so understanding, but your generosity has moved me deeply. I’m dying. These photos are the last remnants of my time on earth. I’m sending them to you, hoping you can feel my joy and my sorrow, and that you’ll keep them safe for me. I’m back in the hospital now, waiting for the end. Ava is already on her way home to you. She said she had to be back today. I couldn’t stop her. I suppose I lost in the end. 7 The letter was long and rambling. It gave me a headache. What a psycho. I tossed the photos and the letter into a corner. I’d deal with them tomorrow. At that exact moment, the front door opened. The woman herself, Ava, burst in, clutching a music box, her face slick with sweat. I scowled. “What are you doing? This is my home.” “Thomas, I made it back! In one more minute, you’ll remember me!” She sat down without being invited, placing the music box on the table in front of me. “What is that thing? I’m calling the cops!” I snapped, my instincts screaming that the box was dangerous. I felt a visceral urge to stay away from it. Ava ignored me, her eyes glued to her watch. Just as I was about to dial, she flipped the lid of the music box open. Instantly, a flash of white light and a strange melody flooded my senses, making me drowsy. Ava smiled, her voice full of affection. “Thomas, I’m back. I’m still your fiancée. Let’s pick a date and get married.” “I’ve been thinking about you constantly these past few months. I knew you’d never forgive me if you knew the truth, which is why I had to resort to this… making you forget.” “Now, I’m going to make you remember me, but you’ll forget the unpleasantness of these last three months. For you, these three months never happened…” Her voice was a soft, gentle murmur. As she began her countdown, I grew heavier, my consciousness fading. “[10… 9… 8… 7… 3… 2… 1]” On the final count, my eyes snapped open. I stared at the anxious, hopeful face in front of me. This was so weird. She didn’t seem to think so. Her gaze was deep, filled with a tenderness that could melt any man’s heart. She whispered my name. “Thomas, you’re awake. I love you!” She buried her head in my chest, clinging to me as if terrified of losing me, her words spilling out in a rush. “It’s okay, it’s all over now. Let’s get married!” I blinked, confused and repulsed. I pushed her away and asked, very seriously, “I’m sorry, but who are you?”

After Alex and I broke up, we slid back into being “best friends.” He rarely contacted me, but he’d call me in the dead of night after every new breakup, asking me to drink with him while he drowned his sorrows. We were tangled up like this for years. He’d amassed enough ex-girlfriends to fill a deck of cards—and I mean the whole deck, not just a hand of poker. After watching Alex flirt, fall head over heels, give the cold shoulder, and then break up with a revolving door of women, my heart had finally flatlined. So, in my 28th year, I handed in my resignation. The reason? I was moving back home to get married. 1 Two in the morning, and my phone lit up with Alex’s name again. “Same place. I need you.” I shuffled into the dive bar downstairs, still in my thickest flannel pajamas. Alex was already surrounded by a graveyard of empty beer bottles. Even with a look of utter dejection on his face, he was still drawing the subtle, appreciative glances of every woman in the room. One was about to make her move, but when she saw me slide into the booth across from him, she sighed in disappointment and turned back to her drink. “Tell me, what’s wrong with me? Why do they all break up with me?” Alex demanded. I shrugged, my voice flat. “Can’t help you there. You’re the one who broke up with me, remember?” He gave a sheepish grin. “I just thought… we were better as friends.” Alex was blessed with a face that could stop traffic and was generous enough with his money. Most women found that combination irresistible. But whether it was two weeks or six months, it always ended the same way: a breakup. The reason was simple. Strip away the superficial charm, and Alex was a mess of personality flaws. He had no sense of boundaries, offered almost zero emotional support to his girlfriends, and ran hot and cold like a broken faucet. He was easy to fall for, but impossible to stay with. He also had a flair for the dramatic. When a relationship ended, he loved to pour his heart out to his friends, but he would never, ever beg an ex to come back. Some of them were probably just testing him, threatening to leave to see his reaction. They never expected him to just… let them go. So, in the end, they all became bitter exes. I was the exception. Not just because I was the only one he’d ever initiated a breakup with. But also because I was a chronic people-pleaser. I might turn down a friend’s invitation to a party, but I could never refuse a friend in pain. I was a natural-born emotional dumpster. And Alex knew it. He said we just broke up. We weren’t lovers anymore, but we were still friends. This “friend” never spoke to me in his day-to-day life. But the second a romance imploded, my phone would ring in the dead of night. And I’d show up at the bar downstairs, hair a mess, still in my pajamas. I’d drink with him, pay the tab, and then take him home. Was Alex a player? Obviously. But God, he was beautiful. So even knowing he was trouble, women lined up to get a taste. I was just one of them, an unremarkable one at that. And sometimes, I’d feel a secret, shameful flicker of pride. Pride in being special. Why else would he call me, out of all his exes, for comfort? Of course, I knew that was just a pathetic way to make myself feel better. The real reason Alex clung to me was because my self-respect was cheap. I never said no. But it didn’t matter. There wouldn’t be any more chances for that. 2 Alex was a good drunk. Sober, he was the life of the party, all flash and swagger. Drunk, he became quiet, almost silent. His reactions were slow, but he was docile. He’d do whatever you told him. I got him home, pulled off his shirt and socks, and tucked him into bed. Alex stared up at me, his beautiful eyes wide and unfocused. “Go to sleep,” I said softly, patting his chest. He closed his eyes and drifted off. I spent the night on his sofa. The next morning, I was in the kitchen making him some broth. The door to the spare bedroom creaked open and Alex’s roommate, Leo, shuffled out, yawning. He looked surprised to see me, then his expression softened with understanding. “Here taking care of Alex again?” I smiled and nodded, then plated up a portion of breakfast for Leo too. This was Alex’s apartment, but it was close to Leo’s office. They’d been roommates in college and were still close, so Leo moved in to save on rent. Back when Alex wanted to break up with me, Leo had tried to talk him out of it, telling him I was a catch and he shouldn’t be an idiot. But Alex had one rule: you could fight and argue all you wanted in a relationship, but once the word “breakup” was said, by either person, there was no going back. Still, I appreciated the gesture. Even though I suspected that, in private, they both probably thought of me as the ultimate doormat. Just as the soup was ready, my phone rang. Leo, holding his plate, gave me a slight smile and started to step away to give me privacy. I waved a hand, telling him it was fine, and answered the call. “Hi, Mom.” “Yeah, it’s the weekend, no work today.” “Mmmhmm, I’m almost done packing. I already shipped the big boxes home, they should get there tomorrow or the day after.” “I have to go to the office on Monday to finish up the paperwork. I booked a train for the afternoon, so I should be home just in time for dinner.” “Okay, love you, Mom. Bye.” After hanging up, I turned to Leo. “I’ve got to go. See you around.” Leo hesitated for a second, then stood up. “I overheard your call. You’re moving back to your hometown?” “I am.” I nodded honestly. “My parents are getting older, and their health isn’t great. I figured I’d move back to be closer and help out.” “Does Alex know?” “We didn’t talk about it yesterday. It’s not a huge deal, is it? Not that important.” I slipped on my shoes and gave him a wave. “Bye! Come visit my town sometime if you get the chance.” 3 Alex didn’t contact me all weekend. I cleaned my apartment from top to bottom, had the landlord come for the final inspection, and checked into a hotel on Sunday night with my last suitcase. Then, for the first time in a long time, I called him. He arrived quickly, asking why I’d picked a hotel for our meeting. He was a bit of a clean freak and wouldn’t stay in anything less than a five-star hotel. This place clearly didn’t meet his standards. I leaned against the doorframe, a small box dangling from my fingers. “Want to try?” Alex raised an eyebrow, looking genuinely surprised that I’d suggest it. My feelings for him were complicated, but ever since he broke up with me, we hadn’t been intimate. Mainly because he was always seamlessly transitioning between girlfriends, and I was never sure if he was actually single. “You’re the one who started this. Don’t go crying later that I took advantage of you,” Alex said, stepping forward and closing the door behind him. “We’re both single adults. It’s mutual. How is that taking advantage?” I knew exactly what I was doing. Once we crossed this line, I was done letting Alex use the “friend” excuse to invade my life. We were just two people with a physical history. We’d loved, we’d been entangled. And after this, it would be best if we never saw each other again. The next morning, my alarm jolted me awake. Alex groaned, burying his head deeper into my chest. It was such a dependent gesture. I sometimes wondered if he had a mommy complex. His parents had divorced when he was young; he was definitely starved for affection. I patted his head, got up, showered, dressed, and walked out with my suitcase. After finishing my paperwork at the office, I was on my way to the train station when a message from Alex finally came through. [1] The single number meant: I’m awake, and I’m making my presence known. I didn’t reply. He didn’t send another message. That evening, I arrived home, tired and dusty from the journey. My parents had prepared a huge welcome-home dinner, and the three of us ate together, laughing and talking. After dinner, my dad did the dishes. I went to my room to unpack a little, and my mom knocked and poked her head in, holding a photograph with a smile. “Now that you’re back, Mrs. Davis from downstairs came by. She wanted to know if you were interested in meeting this young man.” Over the years, my parents had gently nudged me about my love life, but they never pushed. But my agreeing to move back was also, in a way, my agreeing to let them set me up. If he had their stamp of approval, it meant his family and job were, at the very least, decent. I took the photo. He had an average, pleasant face. Not a stunner, but not unattractive. I smiled and nodded. “Sure. Let’s set something up.” 4 Life in my hometown was calm and quiet. My parents pulled some strings and got me a temp position at a stable government job. The pay was low, but the work was easy. The blind date we’d talked about was also scheduled. The guy, Mark, worked in the public sector and was polite and well-mannered. We met up three times and both had a good impression of each other. During this time, Alex messaged me three times. The first was: “Met a new girl. She seems cool.” Attached was a heavily edited selfie of said girl. The second was: “We’re official. She’s great, much more mature than the others.” The last message came yesterday: “Damn, I didn’t text her back for one night and she blew up my phone. So suffocating.” Based on my experience, the next step after a message like that was a breakup. So, with great foresight, I put my phone on silent before going to bed. When I woke up the next morning, I found that my phone had indeed been blown up. A screen full of missed calls. From Alex, from his friends, from my friends. I opened my messaging app. Dozens of unread texts. Had Alex contacted every single one of our mutual friends? “Girl, Alex is losing it! He called me in the middle of the night saying you were missing and he couldn’t reach you.” “You didn’t tell Alex you were moving back home? He sounded really off.” “Sarah, if you see this, call Alex back. He’s really worried about you.” Besides those, most of the messages were from Alex himself. “Why aren’t you answering your phone?” “Come out for a drink. I’m downstairs from your old place.” “Not answering the door either? Are you sleeping that heavily?” “Your neighbor said you moved? What’s going on? Where did you move to?” “You went back home? Why didn’t you tell me?” “When are you coming back?” “You’re not answering texts or calls. Don’t tell me you’ve actually disappeared.” … Reading his messages made my skin crawl. Alex had never been like this. Usually, if I didn’t answer after two calls, he’d give up. He would never, ever cause such a scene, waking up all our friends at three in the morning just to find me. The thought had barely crossed my mind when my phone rang again. It was him. I swallowed hard and answered, my “hello” coming out a little shaky. Silence on the other end. I tried again. “Hello?” This time, Alex finally spoke, his tone as casual as ever. “There you are. I was starting to think you’d been murdered.” “Sorry, my phone was on silent last night.” “No worries. Just don’t do it again,” he joked. “I was about to call the cops.” He sounded like he was driving. I could faintly hear the robotic voice of a GPS telling him to turn left. “What are you so busy with back home?” he asked. “You don’t tell me about something this big? Do you even consider me a friend?” I fell silent. I had never considered him just a friend. “Whatever, I’m driving, I gotta go. You can hang up.” I needed to hang up anyway. I had a date with Mark to go hiking, and I was running late. At ten o’clock sharp, I was ready. I said goodbye to my parents and headed out. Mark’s car was already parked downstairs. When he saw me emerge from the building, he smiled and held up a bag with breakfast he’d bought for me. A smile spread across my face as I walked toward him, about to say thank you. Suddenly, I heard someone call my name. “Sarah!” I turned. The door of a black Audi parked a short distance away opened, and Alex got out. He stared at me, his expression unreadable.

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I grew up in the slums, surviving by digging through trash. On my eighteenth birthday, a barrage of comments appeared before my eyes. 【Damn, CEO Shen’s real daughter is still eating garbage. This experiment is brutal!】 【Seriously. To test his “nature vs. nurture” theory, Shen swapped his twin daughters. The real heiress grew up in the slums, while the adopted one lived as a princess in a mansion.】 【Now the adopted daughter, Aurora Lin, is worth billions, while the real one, Stella Lin, is still dumpster diving. The results are pretty clear!】 I wiped the grime from my hands. My gaze drifted to the massive LED screen on the luxury mall across the street. The face of “Aurora Lin” smiled down. A face identical to my own, advertising a high-end brand. 1 Her face was a portrait of laughter—exquisite, flawless, like a meticulously polished diamond. And I was a stone, covered in dust. 【The necklace she’s wearing today is the ‘Heart of the Deep Sea,’ auctioned for ninety million. CEO Shen bought it specially for her eighteenth birthday.】 【And what did Stella Lin get for her eighteenth birthday? Oh, a slap from her foster mother and being called a waste of money.】 【So tragic. The comparison is just brutal.】 The words on the screen were like needles, pricking my mind. I looked down at the half-eaten, moldy piece of bread in the trash can. My dinner for the night. A shrill voice cut through the air from behind me. “Stella Lin! Where the hell have you been? I told you to get soy sauce! Lazing around digging through trash for food again, are you?!” It was my foster mother, Martha. She charged at me, grabbing a fistful of my hair and slamming my head against the dumpster. “Just like your good-for-nothing dead mother! A worthless piece of trash! All you know is how to eat!” “Wasting our food all day long! Why don’t you just die!” The metal edge of the bin scraped against my temple. It hurt. The taste of blood filled my mouth. 【Here we go, the daily abuse.】 【This foster mother is something else. Where did CEO Shen even find such a horrible person?】 【For the sake of the experiment’s authenticity, of course. He needed the most hostile environment possible.】 I didn’t fight back. After eighteen years, I was used to it. When Martha was done yelling, she spat on me and sauntered off. “No dinner for you tonight! Get lost!” I steadied myself against the wall and slowly pulled myself up. A black Bentley pulled up silently in front of me. The window rolled down, revealing a perfectly made-up face. It was Aurora Lin’s chief assistant, a woman named Chloe. I’d seen her in countless business magazines, always with an air of superiority. Now, she pinched her nose, her eyes scanning me with disgust. “You’re Stella Lin?” I didn’t answer, just stared at her. 【Holy shit! The main event is here to deliver the final blow?】 【Nope, she’s here to deliver the humiliation. I remember this part, it’s about to get intense!】 Chloe took out an exquisitely packaged food container from the car and tossed it on the ground. Food spilled everywhere, mixing with the mud. “Miss Aurora was worried about you, afraid you’d be hungry.” She spoke in a gentle, cooing tone, as if soothing a pet. “She said these are leftovers from her banquet, specially packed for you.” “She also said you should be used to the taste. After all, everything from a garbage dump tastes the same, right?” She covered her mouth and giggled. “Oh, right. Miss Aurora is live-streaming right now. She wants you to say hello to her fans.” She turned her phone screen towards me. On the screen, Aurora sat in a pristine, lavish room, smiling sweetly at the camera. The comments in the live chat scrolled by at a frantic pace. 【Hahaha, Aurora is so kind, still thinking about her sister in the trash heap.】 【Oh my god, she’s so filthy. Get away from her!】 【Make her eat it! Make her get on the ground and eat! I want to watch!】 Aurora’s voice, laced with an innocent cruelty, came from the phone. “Stella, hurry up and eat. Don’t waste my kind gesture.” “Everyone’s watching. You don’t want to disappoint Dad, do you? He’s very interested in the results of this ‘environmental observation’.” Environmental observation. So that’s what it was. In their eyes, my life was just an observation. I looked at the food on the ground, then up at the face that was identical to mine. Slowly, so slowly, I crouched down. I picked up a piece of steak, caked in mud. Under the watchful eyes of Chloe and hundreds of thousands of people in the live stream. I brought it to my lips. Then, just as they were all watching in anticipation, I smiled. And I hurled that piece of steak right at the Bentley’s window. Grease instantly smeared across the expensive glass. Chloe’s smile froze on her face. 2 “Are you insane?!” Chloe’s shriek pierced the dim evening of the slum. She pointed a trembling finger at me, shaking with rage. “Do you have any idea how much this car costs? Can you afford to pay for it? You filthy, low-life piece of trash!” I ignored her tirade. I just stood up and walked towards her, one step at a time. I was filthy, reeking of the sour, rotting stench of the garbage dump. Chloe instinctively backed away until her back hit the cold metal of the car. “What do you want? I’m warning you, don’t do anything stupid!” 【YES! She’s finally fighting back!】 【Get her! That assistant is such a bully, I can’t stand her!】 【No, Stella, don’t! She’s Aurora’s lackey! If you touch her, Mr. Shen will not let you off easy!】 The comments were right to be worried. For the past eighteen years, I’d been beaten, humiliated, treated like a dog. I remember when I was seven, I had a fever so high I was on the verge of death. But Martha took the money for my medicine and used it to play mahjong. I lay on the cold floor, listening to the fireworks outside. The comments told me it was Aurora’s birthday. Her father, Julian Shen, had rented out all of Disneyland for her, with a fireworks display that lasted all night. I remember when I was twelve, I fainted at school from chronic malnutrition. My foster father, Mark, dragged me home, calling me a burden and telling me to go collect more bottles to sell. The comments told me that at the same time, Aurora was skiing in the Alps with a world champion as her private instructor. I remember when I was fifteen, I washed a classmate’s socks for a month in exchange for an old coat to get through the winter. When Martha saw it, she snatched it away to give to her own son and broke one of my ribs in the process. The comments told me that on the same day, Aurora’s closet was featured in a fashion magazine under the headline, “The Ever-Changing Wardrobe of the City’s Top Socialite.” Every single time, I had endured it silently. Because I knew that fighting back would only result in crueler treatment. But today was different. The moment I learned that everything I had suffered was just for an “experiment” to serve as someone else’s foil, to prove that I was inherently “inferior,” something inside me shattered completely. I walked up to Chloe and stopped. We were so close I could see the panic her expensive foundation couldn’t hide. I reached out my hand. She squeezed her eyes shut in fear. I didn’t hit her. I simply plucked the expensive fountain pen from her jacket pocket. A Montblanc, limited edition. I’d seen one before. Julian Shen had one on the cover of a business magazine. “What… what are you doing with my pen?” Chloe’s voice was trembling. I didn’t say anything. I just took the pen, turned, and walked to the front of the car. On the mirror-like hood, I carved, with force, three lines, one after the other. “MURDERER.” “PAY YOUR DEBTS.” “HEAVEN’S WRATH.” The sound of metal scraping against paint was sharp and piercing. Chloe’s face went from pale to ashen. “You… you…” She stammered, unable to form a complete sentence. On the other end of the live stream, Aurora had clearly seen what was happening. For the first time, her sweet voice was laced with genuine anger. “Stella Lin! Stop it! You’re ruining the birthday present Dad gave me!” Dad. The word sounded so natural coming from her lips, and so utterly ironic. I stopped carving and turned to the phone’s camera. For the first time in eighteen years, I was looking clearly, directly, into her world. “Tell Julian Shen.” My throat was dry, each word like sandpaper. “The experiment is over.” “Now, it’s my turn.” With that, I tossed the pen, now bent out of shape in my grip, back at Chloe. She shrieked as if she’d been burned and dropped it to the ground. 3 I turned and walked away, not once looking back at the defaced Bentley and the furious Chloe. 【Awesome! That was so satisfying! But I’m so scared for her!】 【Julian Shen is definitely going to lose it. That’s his precious adopted daughter!】 【Run, Stella! Find a place to hide!】 I didn’t run. This world was so big, yet there was no place for me. I went back to that place I was supposed to call “home.” The moment I walked in, Martha’s hand came flying at my face. “You little bitch! Where the hell have you been? Think you’ve grown wings, do you?” For the first time in eighteen years, I ducked. Martha froze, shocked that I would dare to dodge. “You dare defy me!” Her fury escalated. She lunged at me, claws out. Her son, Ben, a fifteen-year-old who was taller and heavier than me, charged in to grab me from behind. “Mom! Get her! We’ll beat this jinx to death today!” In the past, they would have pinned me to the ground, kicking and punching until they were tired. But today, I was done enduring. The second before Ben’s hands touched me, I sidestepped and kicked him hard in the knee. “Aaargh!” Ben howled in pain and collapsed, clutching his leg. Martha was stunned. “You… you dare hit my son!” I looked at her coldly. “He deserved it.” “You ungrateful brat! We raised you all these years for nothing!” Martha was trembling with rage. She grabbed a broom from the corner and swung it at my head. I didn’t dodge. I just reached out and caught the other end of the broomstick, holding it firm. We were at a stalemate. “Raised me for nothing?” I let out a laugh. It must have sounded ugly. “The orphan subsidy you get from the government every month… you haven’t spent a single penny of it on me, have you?” “I’ve been digging through trash to feed myself since I was six, and I have to give most of it to you, or I get beaten.” “The rent for this house? I pay for it. The food you eat? I buy it with money from selling plastic bottles.” “So who, exactly, is raising whom?” I had never said these words before. I thought that if I was obedient enough, I could earn a moment of peace. I was wrong. Mercy to wolves is cruelty to oneself. Martha’s face flushed red, then went pale. “You… you’re lying! We’ve been so good to you, and you slander us!” 【Hahaha, she’s panicking! Look at her!】 【Stella finally said it! I’ve been waiting for this!】 【Those two leeches deserve it!】 “We can go down to the community office and find out if I’m lying.” I yanked the broom from her grasp and threw it on the floor. “From today on, you won’t get another cent of my money.” “I’m terminating the lease on this place tomorrow. You can figure things out for yourselves.” With that, I turned and went into my tiny room, less than fifty square feet, and locked the door. I could hear Martha and Ben cursing and pounding on the door. “Stella Lin, you little animal! Get out here!” “You dare terminate the lease? I’ll break your legs!” I ignored them. I pulled out a rusty metal box from under my bed. Inside was every penny I had managed to save over the years. A total of three thousand, two hundred and six dollars and fifty cents. This was all I had to fight back with. 【That’s so little… what can she do with that?】 【Don’t lose hope! Stella’s knowledge is priceless! She knows more about recycling than anyone!】 【That’s right! She knows which circuit boards are the most valuable, which plastics sell for the highest price!】 The comments were encouraging me. I opened the tattered copy of the Recycling and Utilization of Renewable Resources Handbook, a treasure I’d found at a second-hand bookstore. I needed money. A lot of it. I needed a company. A company that would allow me to stand before Julian Shen. I didn’t want to be acknowledged by my family. I wanted to crush everything he was proud of under my feet. Just then, my beat-up phone rang. It was an unknown number. I hesitated for a moment, then answered. On the other end was the cold, emotionless voice of a man. “Stella Lin?” “I’m Julian Shen’s lawyer.” “Regarding the damage you caused to Miss Aurora Lin’s vehicle today, and the slander against Mr. Shen’s reputation, I am officially filing a lawsuit against you on behalf of my client.” “The compensation amount is three million dollars.” “Additionally, Mr. Shen asked me to relay a message.” The lawyer paused, his condescending tone practically dripping from the phone. “He said, since the game has started, you should play by the rules.” “He is very much looking forward to seeing what new tricks a rat like you, wallowing in the mud, can come up with.” The line went dead. Three million dollars. The number was like a mountain, crushing the air from my lungs. I looked at the crumpled three thousand dollars in my hand and laughed. Despair? No. Excitement. He had finally entered the game himself.

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Leila Elkin, FNB’s new director, had ousted news queen Diana Croft, causing a city-wide scandal. Now she stood in my consignment shop, here to sell jewelry. “My darling had these custom-made,” she said, waving a hand. “He spoils me with so many gifts.” A diamond choker with a ruby the size of my thumb—worth at least ten million—lay beside other treasures. I smiled professionally. “Your husband must love you deeply.” But as I checked the certificates, the signature made me freeze. Leila sipped her tea, eyes glinting. “Oh, I’m not his wife. We’re just… first loves.” She leaned in, smiling. “He said he missed fifteen years of my life, so he bought fifteen gifts to make up for it. Romantic, isn’t it?” It was. But that same elegant signature had graced my report cards for years. It was my father’s, a man I’d believed for thirty years was too unromantic to ever give my mother a single surprise. 1 Noticing my stunned silence, Leila’s eyes narrowed with a hint of amusement. “Goes to show, you really do have to raise a girl with money. Otherwise, even when you’re surrounded by luxury all day, seeing the real thing still leaves you speechless.” I ignored the barb in her voice and composed myself, offering a cool smile. “Ms. Elkin, I can offer eight million for the ruby. You’ve just taken over as director at FNB; why the sudden need to sell your collection?” “Oh, I’m selling these to buy my love a birthday present,” she explained, a dreamy look in her eyes. “He gave me this massive rock the other day. Do you have any watches in a similar price range?” A desperate, sliver of hope flickered within me. Maybe it’s just a coincidence. The same name, the same handwriting… it could happen. “Could I perhaps see a photo of him?” I asked, my voice steady. “It would help me recommend a suitable style.” The moment she showed me the screen, that hope died. There was my father, his arm wrapped tightly around Leila, a genuine, unbridled joy in his eyes that I had never seen before. At home, his face was a constant mask of stern solemnity. Here, he was alive. “Ms. Lin, you’ve been staring at my man for quite a while,” Leila said, snatching the phone back. Her tone was sharp with displeasure, and the massive diamond on her finger flashed, searing my eyes. My parents had been married for thirty years. Our family of three was crammed into a tiny one-bedroom apartment in the Barrens, the grimiest part of Cresthaven. The living room doubled as my bedroom, a space so small that the three of us couldn’t walk around at the same time without bumping into each other. And yet this was the man who could afford to shower Leila Elkin with custom haute couture jewelry. Meanwhile, the only thing on my mother’s hand was a thin, misshapen silver band. “I was just struck by his devotion,” I said, my voice carefully neutral. “To have stayed so faithful to you for all these years.” Leila let out a scornful laugh. “Oh, I know he got married after I left. I don’t care. Love and obligation are two very different things.” She leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Besides, back when I was leaving the country, I teased him. I said he had no masculine charm, just the smell of money. Do you know what the silly fool did?” I didn’t need to guess. Because of Leila’s casual joke, he had pretended to be poor for thirty years, never once using his wealth to ease our family’s burden. And because of one sweet murmur from her, he had instantly shed that disguise, ready to give her the world. Her sprawling penthouse apartment, her powerful job at the network—it was all from him. After settling on a watch for her, I stumbled home in a daze. I pushed open the door to our cramped apartment. My mother, her back slightly stooped, was navigating the tiny space, bumping into furniture. Her arms and waist were dappled with the faded purple of old bruises. We were poor. My father’s “salary” of two thousand a month was never enough. So, my mother worked as a cleaner for the wealthy. She was a beautiful woman, and she often came home in tears, having spent her day fending off the wandering hands of the men she worked for. She would cry, and then she would go back the next day. My father never defended her. He would just say, “Life isn’t a fairy tale, is it?” So she learned to keep her head down, to make herself small, to become the hunched figure she was today. Leila Elkin, on the other hand, always stood ramrod straight. Because my father was the ground beneath her feet. In my line of work, I dealt with the city’s elite. I had connections. It didn’t take much digging to uncover the truth. My father wasn’t just rich. He was powerful. He was the secret owner of FNB. I remembered when I was five and fell deathly ill. I watched my mother swallow every last shred of her dignity, getting on her knees to beg her employers for an advance on her wages. The money wasn’t enough. The surgery wasn’t entirely successful. To this day, my heart still seizes in my chest if I walk too fast. Seeing me, my mother’s tired face broke into a smile. “Sophie, I found a new client! She’s paying so well. We’ll be able to afford a new place for you soon!” She had no idea. My father had already bought someone else a new place—a penthouse in the heart of downtown. I looked at her, a lump forming in my throat. “Mom,” I said, my voice thick. “I have something very important to tell you.” 2 My mother sat on the sofa—my bed—wearing a faded, mended shirt. It was the only gift my father had ever given her. “Sophie, what is it? Should I call your father?” she asked, her brow furrowed with concern. “He just lost his job, you know. He’s probably out pounding the pavement at the recruitment agencies.” He’d used that excuse to stay away from home for the past three days. Meanwhile, Leila had just posted an update to her social media. He said I needed to network, so he bought me a golf course. My mother’s hands were swollen and chapped from years of hard labor. The hands my father was holding in the photo were slender, pale, and perfectly manicured. “Mom,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. “Dad is having an affair.” I couldn’t meet her eyes. I just stared at the floor. “Sophie, how can you say that about your father?” she protested, her voice rising. “He’s just been away for a few days! He’s doing it for us, for our family!” I said nothing. I just unlocked my phone and showed her the photos I’d taken today: the purchase authorizations for all those custom pieces. The signature, the name, the ID number. It was all him. Then, I showed her more. “Mom, Dad has been lying to us for thirty years. He’s rich. He doesn’t need to work. He has more money than we could ever imagine.” I watched as her shoulders began to tremble. Tears spilled from her eyes, silent and steady, soaking the front of her worn shirt. Every month, my father gave her just enough to cover the barest of expenses. My school tuition was paid for with her humiliation, one degrading job at a time. She wasn’t just a cleaner for the rich; she’d swept streets and scrubbed public toilets. She never took a day off. She gave everything for our family. But my father never gave her a single surprise. He even forgot their anniversary every year. “In our situation, what’s there to celebrate?” he’d always say. And my mother, though her eyes held a flicker of hope, eventually learned to say nothing. But he remembered every one of Leila’s preferences. Every gift he gave her was steeped in meaning. “Mom,” I said, my voice cold and hard. I had to be cruel to be kind. “Leila was his first love. The only reason he pretended to be poor was because of a joke she made years ago.” I watched her face crumble as the screen glowed with undeniable proof. “On your birthday, the fifteenth of this month, not only did he not get you a gift, he didn’t even come home.” I took a shaky breath. “That was the day he was at a high-end auction, spending a fortune on a diamond for Leila.” My voice was getting tighter, strangled. “Can’t I just… pretend I don’t know?” she whispered, her voice choked with tears, interrupting me. A surge of hot anger rushed through me. Even now, she wanted to protect him! But then I heard her next words. “He’s so rich… you’re his daughter. He’ll look out for you. It’s okay if he wants to divorce me, Sophie, as long as he takes care of you.” I hadn’t planned on crying. But hearing that, I broke down completely. The crushing weight of life had tamed my mother into a creature of infinite patience and forgiveness. Meanwhile, Leila, coddled and adored by my father, got everything she ever wanted. Why? I wiped the tears from my mother’s face. “No. If we divorce him, I’ll make sure he leaves with nothing.” 3 My mother was still hesitant. “He’s so powerful, Sophie. Can we really win against him?” Poverty had made me a target for bullies when I was a child. My father never stood up for me, which taught me to fight my own battles and never back down. He owed us. And I would make him pay back every single debt. “Trust me, Mom,” I said, my voice firm. “I’ve got this.” I tracked down the contact information for Diana Croft, the star anchor Leila had pushed out, and sent her a text. I have a story that can get you your job back. Her reply was instant. I’m listening. But purchase receipts weren’t enough to nail him for adultery. All of Leila’s social media photos were carefully framed to hide his face. So, I used the expensive watch as an excuse and arranged to deliver it to her at FNB studios myself. When I arrived at her office, Leila was thrilled with the timepiece, immediately snapping photos of it. Then she took out her phone and sent a voice message. “This is your birthday gift from me, darling. Will you come pick me up after work today?” The reply came back as a voice note, too. Leila played it without a hint of shame. “Leila, my love, just having you by my side is the greatest gift. You don’t need to buy me things like this.” At that exact moment, my mother sent me a screenshot of her own text conversation. Will you be home for your birthday? she had asked my father. His reply: The best gift you could give me is to stop complaining and stop being so needy all the time. Seeing me staring at my phone, Leila leaned back in her chair, a smirk on her face. “Envious of my love story, little girl? It’s a shame, really. But what can you do? Blame your parents for not giving you a better start in life.” The irony was so thick I could choke on it. My father hadn’t given me a good start. But he’d certainly given her one. Walking through the FNB building earlier, I’d overheard employees whispering about her incompetence. The ratings had plummeted to less than half of what they were under Diana Croft. “I’m launching a new segment,” Leila announced, examining the watch. “Interviews with poor people like you. Should be fascinating, don’t you think?” She picked up an alcohol wipe and began meticulously cleaning the watch I had just handed her, even though I’d worn gloves. Her eyes were filled with disdain, as if my very presence was contaminating her space. Once she signed the confirmation receipt, I left. I sat in a coffee shop across the street from the FNB tower for hours, waiting. Finally, the workday ended. Leila emerged, clicking down the steps in her sharp stilettos. A sleek sports car pulled up to the curb. My father got out. They fell into each other’s arms, their lips meeting in a long, deep kiss. Leila leaned against his chest, laughing softly. My face was a mask of ice as I raised my phone and captured photo after damning photo. I showed them to my mother as soon as I got home. I needed to steel her resolve, to make sure she wouldn’t beg him to come back. In the past, she would try to be affectionate with him, to cuddle up to him, but he would always subtly push her away, a flicker of disgust in his eyes. Now, looking at the pictures, she just smiled faintly. “I’ve already started looking at new apartments. Once the divorce is settled and we get the money, I can buy one outright.” But before I could package the evidence and send it to Diana, I got a call. It was about my mother. There had been an incident.

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Seven years after I cheated death, I saw Jenna again on a construction site. She stood in the dust in her high heels while I squatted by a concrete pillar, shoveling a three-dollar lunch into my mouth. A familiar voice, laced with hesitation, cut through the noise. “Leo Zio… is that you?” She reached out to touch my shoulder. The chopsticks in my hand froze. I looked up, and the noon sun was a blinding glare, making my vision swim. Jenna’s voice trembled with a shocked delight. “It really is you! I thought… after all these years, I thought you were…” I didn’t answer. I just shifted my body, avoiding the hand that hovered in mid-air. Her eyes instantly reddened. She pulled a silent, sullen teenager from behind her. “Alex was only ten when you left,” she said, her voice catching. “We went to the crash site every year to lay flowers…” She choked back a sob. “Why didn’t you ever come back to us?” I silently scraped the last grain of rice from the container, my gaze drifting to the slight swell of her stomach. Seven years is long enough to change everything. We were on different paths now. … Seeing my unresponsiveness, a flicker of frustration crossed Jenna’s face. She took another step closer, her expression a complicated mix of pity and dismay as she stared at my dust-caked tank top. “Are you still angry with me?” she asked. “Look at what’s become of you since you left me. What good has it done you?” I stood up and tossed the empty container into a trash barrel. “You’ve got the wrong person,” I said, my voice empty. Jenna’s face froze. Her hands clenched into fists. “You can disown me, but are you going to disown Alex, too? He’s your son!” The boy standing beside her flinched, his head bowed. “Dad…” he mumbled, his voice barely a whisper. My fingers, hanging loose at my side, curled slightly. The world went quiet for a moment, the only sound the wind whistling through the unfinished building. A moment later, one of the guys yelled that it was quitting time. Jenna’s gaze remained fixed on me, burning into my back. The foreman counted out a few crumpled red bills and stuffed them into my hand. A few hundred dollars—just enough to cover a month’s rent. As I turned to leave, Jenna couldn’t take it anymore. She grabbed my arm, her voice urgent. “If you need anything, just tell me. Whatever you want, I’ll help you get it.” Hearing that, I slowly turned back to look at her, and at Alex, who stood a few feet away. Under her expectant gaze, I silently pried her fingers from my arm, one by one. “What I want,” I said, “you can no longer afford to give.” Jenna opened her mouth to say something more, but the words caught in her throat. She didn’t follow me. I didn’t have the time or energy to waste on people who no longer mattered. Just staying alive took everything I had. I lived in a cramped, single room in a rundown tenement not far from the site. It was less than a hundred square feet, the roof leaked when it rained, and it was right next to the communal bathroom. The stench of stale urine was a constant companion, even in my sleep. It was completely dark by the time I got back. I’d just laid out my bedroll on the floor when a knock came at the door. I figured it was the landlord chasing rent, but when I opened it, I found Jenna standing there, looking hesitant. Caleb Thorne stood beside her, his hand placed protectively over her pregnant belly. They were both dressed in designer clothes that looked painfully out of place in this slum. My first instinct was to slam the door, but Caleb was faster, wedging his foot in the opening. He pushed his way inside, covering his nose and mouth as he scanned the squalid room, his eyes finally landing on me. “When Jenna told me you were still alive, I didn’t believe it,” he said. “We all looked for you after the… accident. Couldn’t even find a body. We held a funeral for you, you know.” His words were so absurd I almost laughed. The fists at my sides tightened. Caleb surveyed my living space, a flicker of what looked like pity in his eyes. “In the seven years you’ve been gone, Jenna and I got together.” He paused, letting the words sink in. “We’re not married yet, but she’s pregnant with my child.” I finally looked up, meeting their gazes. “Are you finished? If you’re finished, you can go.” I pulled the door wide open, gesturing for them to leave. Neither of them had expected me to be so calm. Jenna’s voice was hoarse. “I just want to help you.” At her words, an idea seemed to strike Caleb. He pulled a thick wad of cash from his wallet, then pressed a business card into my hand. “Leo, you used to be a lawyer. A damn good one. If you want, you can come work at my firm.” He lowered his voice. “I know you’re a ghost right now, no official records. We can help you with that. We’re all old friends, Leo. There’s no need to make things ugly.” Having said his piece, as if a duty had been discharged, Caleb took Jenna’s arm to lead her away. Before she left, Jenna looked back at me one last time. “Call me if you need anything. Alex… he really misses you.” I slammed the door shut, cutting off her look of feigned concern. Then, without a flicker of emotion, I tore Caleb Thorne’s business card into tiny pieces. Jenna’s so-called help was nothing but an attempt to buy absolution for her guilt. But seven years had passed. I no longer needed it. After they left, sleep wouldn’t come. Every time I closed my eyes, the past flooded back in, and with it, a hate that grew stronger with each passing moment. To distract myself, I started cleaning the filthy room. In the corner was a dusty old box. As I lifted it, a picture frame fell out, shattering on the floor with a jarring crack. It was a family photo. Me, Jenna, and a much younger Alex. Alex wasn’t my biological son. After Jenna and I married, I knew she had a low tolerance for pain, and I couldn’t bear the thought of putting her through childbirth. So, I had a vasectomy. We found Alex in a dumpster on a snowy Christmas Eve. He must have been abandoned right after birth; his umbilical cord was still attached. His tiny fists were clenched, and a weak, desperate cry came from his throat. Jenna had frowned, trying to pull me away. “Leo, don’t get involved. We don’t have the energy for this kind of trouble.” But I couldn’t leave him. I wrapped him tightly in my overcoat, using my own body heat to warm him as I rushed him through the blizzard to the nearest hospital. He survived, but the exposure had left him with a congenital disability in his legs. I brought the fragile baby home and named him Alex. He would be our son, the only child we would ever have. But Jenna never truly warmed to him. She worried his disability would be a lifelong burden, and she feared the gossip of our friends and neighbors. I took him to every specialist in the city, searching for any possible treatment. When his legs ached at night and he cried, I would hold him and walk him around the house for hours, humming tuneless lullabies until he fell asleep. Learning to walk was ten times harder for him than for other children; he fell again and again, and I was there to pick him up every single time. I taught him to read. I carried him on my shoulders to see the stars. I worried his disability would make him feel insecure, so every day I told him he was the most wonderful boy in the world. The first time he called me “Dad,” I grinned like an idiot for a week. I poured everything I had into that boy. Then Caleb Thorne came back, and everything changed. Caleb was Jenna’s first love. He had abandoned her when she was at her poorest, leaving the country to make his fortune. Only then did she meet me. The day he returned to the city, Jenna locked herself in her room for hours. After that, she started coming home late, and Alex began to change, too. I had to go out of town for a work case. When I returned, I found Caleb at our house, playing with Alex. Perhaps because of the insecurity from his disability, Alex rarely smiled, not even for me. But that day, he was laughing, truly happy, with Caleb. Things spiraled out of control. The arrival of Caleb shattered the life we had built. I argued with Jenna, but she always dismissed my concerns. “There’s nothing between Caleb and me anymore, Leo. We’re married.” “Don’t be jealous over nothing.” “He’s just back to build his career here. You’re overthinking things.” Even Alex grew distant, resenting my discipline. “Uncle Caleb would never be this strict with me. I hate you, Dad.” “I wish Uncle Caleb was my real dad. He’d give me anything I want.” A shard of glass from the broken frame cut my finger. Blood dripped onto the floor, staining the photo red. We took that picture on Alex’s fifth birthday. I still remembered his wish. To be with Mommy and Daddy forever, and never, ever be apart. A bitter smile twisted my lips. I threw the photo into the trash. Just then, my phone buzzed. A text message popped up on the screen. [Dad, I’m turning 18 in a week. Will you come to my party?] I didn’t reply. I went to work the next day, same as always. A week later, I had just hauled a bag of cement, my back screaming in protest, when Alex found me. He’d come alone this time. He stood before me, taller than me now. The limp was barely noticeable; you wouldn’t see it if you weren’t looking for it. He fidgeted, his voice stiff. “Dad.” I didn’t respond. I calmly hefted another bag of cement onto my shoulder and started to walk past him. “Dad, wait!” he said, blocking my path. “Mom and I… we’ve missed you all these years. You didn’t answer my text. Today is my birthday. Can you please come? Just this once.” He pressed his hands together, begging, the guilt in his eyes raw and undisguised. It was the same look he had whenever he’d done something wrong as a child. I watched him in silence. For a moment, time stood still. “Alright,” I said. One last time. A final farewell to the past.

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After joining the new company, I was targeted. Not by people, but by everything in the office. The fingerprint scanner only ever failed for me, forcing me to request a manual clock-in every single day. When I asked HR to replace it, the administrator shot back with a sarcastic, “It works for everyone else. Why are you always the problem?” The air vent above my desk blasted freezing air directly at me, leaving my hands and feet numb with cold. When I begged my boss for a different desk, he just rolled his eyes. “No one else had a problem with this spot. Why does the AC suddenly act up the moment you sit there?” One bizarre incident after another made my life at the company impossible. I’d go home and complain to my boyfriend, telling him I wanted to quit. “Are you kidding?” he’d say. “You’re making twenty-eight grand a month before taxes, with weekends and paid vacation. Where are you going to find another job that good?” I thought about it, and he was right. So I decided to stick it out. And then, the elevator malfunctioned, and I plunged thirty-three floors to my death. As I died, one question echoed in my mind: why did every single piece of equipment in that office seem to have it out for me, and only me? All the equipment was brand new. I had only just met my colleagues. I had no enemies. It made no sense for someone to be sabotaging me. Then, I opened my eyes. I was back. It was my first day at the new company. 1 “Serena Foster, welcome to the team.” “Your fingerprints are in the system now, so don’t forget to clock in and out!” The HR administrator, Janet, smiled as she handed me my ID badge. For a moment, I was lost in a daze. Memories of the endless torment from my past life flooded my mind. This was the day the nightmare began. From my very first day, everything in the office was against me, and only me. The fingerprint scanner would flash an error every time I touched it, forcing me to constantly bother my colleagues for a manual sign-in. When I finally worked up the nerve to ask HR for a new machine, they just sneered at me. “It works for everyone else. Why do you have to be so difficult?” The air vent above my desk became a personal tormentor, blasting me with frigid air in the dead of winter until my fingers and toes were perpetually frozen. When I pleaded with my boss to move, he just scoffed. “No one else ever complained about this desk. Why is it only a problem now that you’re here?” The constant stream of bizarre problems made my work life a living hell. My boss thought I was a whiny hypochondriac, and my colleagues thought I was a drama queen. My only outlet was my boyfriend, Mark. But when I told him I wanted to quit, he just dismissed my fears. “That’s ridiculous. It’s not like the office is haunted. You’re just stressed out and overthinking things. Besides,” he’d always add, “you’re making twenty-eight grand a month before taxes, with weekends and paid vacation. You’re not going to find a better deal than that!” So I gritted my teeth and decided to tough it out. The very next day, the elevator cable snapped, and I plummeted thirty-three floors to my death. I died with my eyes wide open, the question of why screaming in my silent throat. But now, I was back. And this time, I was going to find out what the hell was going on. Shaking off the memory, I handed the ID badge back to Janet. “Janet, my fingerprints are a little faint. Could you do me a favor and scan all ten of my fingers? Just in case, so I don’t have to bother you if one of them doesn’t work.” Janet blinked, surprised, but then she smiled and took the badge, reopening the enrollment system. I took a deep breath and pressed my right index finger firmly onto the screen, ensuring it covered the entire sensor. A soft beep confirmed a successful scan. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. I carefully scanned all ten fingers, adjusting the pressure and angle for a perfect read each time. This time, I thought, it has to work. Janet chuckled. “You’re the first person to ever scan all ten fingers. But don’t you worry, Serena. This equipment is top-of-the-line, imported. It never makes mistakes.” I managed a weak smile, thanked her, and walked straight to the time clock by the entrance. I wiped my hands on my pants, then placed my index finger on the scanner. [FINGERPRINT NOT RECOGNIZED. PLEASE TRY AGAIN.] A chill ran down my spine. The hairs on my arms stood on end. “How is this still happening?” I refused to give up. I tried every single finger. [FINGERPRINT NOT RECOGNIZED. PLEASE TRY AGAIN.] [FINGERPRINT NOT RECOGNIZED. PLEASE TRY AGAIN.] Ten fingers. Ten failures. The same cold, robotic voice of rejection. I stared at the machine, the glaring red error message on the screen like a malevolent eye staring back at me, the synthesized voice a mocking laugh. My fists clenched. It was a cocktail of frustration and fear. Everything had worked perfectly in HR just moments ago. How could it fail now? Was I doomed to repeat the same nightmare? As I stood there, frozen, colleagues began to gather, some of them kindly asking if I needed help. An idea began to form in my mind. “I’m Serena, the new hire,” I said, my voice deliberately timid. “I’m so sorry to bother you all, but my fingerprint won’t scan.” A young man stepped forward. “Here, let me try mine.” He placed his finger on the scanner, and it beeped with immediate success. They all assumed I was just holding my finger at the wrong angle and encouraged me to try again. I nodded and, in front of everyone, tried all ten of my fingers again. Still, nothing but errors. “I just had Janet in HR scan all ten of my fingers,” I said, raising my voice just enough for everyone to hear. “But it’s still not working. Do you think this machine might be broken?” In my past life, I had always tried to deal with these problems quietly, which only made everyone think I was making things up. This time, I would have witnesses. Just then, Janet came over to see what the commotion was about. I demonstrated the problem for her one more time. She frowned at the error message. “It must be faulty. I’ll put in a request for a replacement. Don’t worry about clocking in for now.” I thought that a new machine would surely solve the problem. With the time clock issue temporarily resolved, I went to my desk. The moment I sat down, a familiar chill prickled the back of my neck. I snapped my head up to look at the air vent. A blast of cold air hit me, and I sneezed three times in a row. My deskmate, Wendy, turned around, just like she had in my past life. “You should wear a sweater, honey,” she said kindly. “It might be warm in the office, but you can still catch a chill on your commute.” “Wendy,” I said, my teeth chattering, “does the AC feel a little cold to you?” She held her hand up to the vent above her own desk. “No, it’s warm. Same as always. It’s central air, so all the vents should be the same.” I immediately stood up. “Wendy, could you do me a huge favor? Just for a minute, could you sit in my chair and see what you feel?” Wendy looked confused but agreed. Last time, I had just reached over to feel the air at her desk and confirmed it was warm. This time, I needed her to feel the arctic blast for herself. It was the only way I could justify requesting a new desk. But her next words hit me like a ton of bricks. “It’s fine, Serena. It’s warm.” “What? That’s impossible! It was freezing a second ago!” I shot my hand up to feel the air. It was warm. I was stunned. Refusing to believe it, I sat back down in my own chair. Instantly, the familiar cold returned, making me flinch. Wendy looked at me with concern. “Serena, are you okay? Maybe you’re just not sleeping well, a little run down?” I didn’t believe it. I went to other colleagues’ desks, comparing the vents. All of them were blowing warm air. But the moment I sat down at my own desk, it turned cold. The sheer strangeness of it made my skin crawl. I stared up at the vent in despair. “Why is it only cold for me?” I shouted. “This is insane!” My strange behavior drew stares. I could hear the whispers. “She looks so young, but she’s acting like a total psycho.” “This is an office, not a mental institution. How did she even get hired?” “She’s just trying to cause trouble. First the time clock, now the AC. She’s disrupting the whole office.” The commotion eventually reached my boss. He strode over, his brow furrowed. “Serena Foster, what is going on? It’s your first day and you’re already causing a scene instead of working?” “Sir,” I pleaded, pointing at the vent, “it’s blowing cold air on my desk. Only on my desk, only when I’m sitting here. I swear.” My boss walked over and held his hand under the vent. He frowned. “There’s no cold air. It’s perfectly warm. No one else has ever had a problem with this desk. What is wrong with you? If you cause any more trouble, don’t bother coming in tomorrow.” Defeated, I had no choice but to endure the freezing draft all morning, shivering uncontrollably at my desk.

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When the fire broke out, Mom scooped up my sister, and Dad threw my brother onto his back. They left me behind in the flames. The fire scarred my face. And just like that, the spoiled, attention-seeking girl I used to be vanished, replaced by someone… quiet. Understanding. It didn’t matter. I was dying anyway. This little scrap of love they had left… anyone else could have it. But now, they regret it. They clutch my skeletal hand and plead, “Just throw one more tantrum for us, Lily. Please? Just one more time?” 1 Mom’s arms were wrapped around my sister, Leah. Dad’s back was a shield for my brother, Leo. They burst from the inferno and clung to each other, a sobbing, grateful knot of survivors. “Is there anyone else inside?” a firefighter yelled, rushing toward them. Mom spun around, her eyes wild as she did a frantic headcount. She pointed to my brother and sister. “Leo, Leah… the kids are here! They’re both safe, they’re both here!” “Are you sure no one is left?” the firefighter pressed. But Mom’s world had shrunk to the two of them. She didn’t answer him, just muttered to herself, “They’re safe, thank God, they’re safe,” pulling them into an even tighter embrace. And that was the moment I stumbled out of the fire, my hand clamped over my mouth, coughing up smoke. Her words landed like a punchline to a cruel joke, and I was the punchline. My body was stained with soot, my clothes were shredded and charred. They had gotten out early, their clothes were clean, their skin untouched. The strength that had carried me through the flames evaporated, and her words brought me crashing to the ground. I collapsed. A searing, blinding pain erupted across my entire back. My name is Lily. Lily Harris. Always the leftover. 2 “Leo, stop tickling me!” Once clear of the danger, my siblings started roughhousing. Their laughter seemed to smooth some of the terror from our parents’ faces. But then Leah tripped, and her hand landed squarely on the raw, weeping wound on my back. “Ah!” A scream ripped from my throat. I could feel the freshly dressed wound tear open, blood seeping through the bandages, the agony radiating through my entire body. Leah scrambled to her feet, hiding behind Leo, her dark eyes wide with fear. “Lily!” Instantly, Mom’s gaze shot to me, sharp with reproach. “Stop throwing a fit! Why did you scream at your sister?” Her eyes met mine for a second, then recoiled, a flicker of disgust clouding her features. More than usual. It was the scars on my face, I knew it. She thought I was acting out because her attention was, as always, fixed on Leo and Leah. She hadn’t even noticed the bandages the paramedics had wrapped around my back. She never saw me. I couldn’t take it anymore. I scrambled away, burying my face in my hands, and let the sobs come. My weeping was the only sound in the vast, dark night. The rest of them fell silent. When my tears finally subsided, Mom approached, holding Leah’s hand. She sighed, reaching for my own. I flinched away. Her hand froze in mid-air. “Lily, please try to understand,” she said, her voice weary. “It’s not that we don’t love you. But Leo is at a critical point in his career, and Leah is so young…” I stared at her through my blurry vision, choking back another sob. “Can’t you just be a little more mature about this?” Seeing her earnest, pleading face, a bitter laugh escaped my lips. It was laughable. Truly. The love I was ever given came in fractions, in leftovers. My laugh seemed to reassure her. Thinking I wasn’t angry anymore, she grabbed my hand and forced it together with Leah’s. “There, that’s better,” she cooed, orchestrating this hollow charade of a happy family. “Now, be a good girl and tell your sister you’re sorry. Then we can put this all behind us. We’re a family, after all!” She was speaking to me, but her gentle, coaxing gaze was fixed on Leah, who was still sniffling pitifully. Her words were the final straw. I snatched my hand back. Disappointment hardened my mother’s face. Her words cut like daggers. “I have three children, and you’re the only one who turned out so spoiled!” Then she swept Leah into her arms and walked away, leaving me alone with her judgment. Spoiled. Immature. That’s what she called it. Before, I used to cling to them, beg for things, act out for a scrap of attention. I had to. I wasn’t their favorite. If I didn’t fight for my share, I would have nothing at all. But now… I was dying. I was sick. I was done fighting for scraps. 3 Our house was gone, so we had to find a new place to live. Thankfully, our home had been isolated, so the fire hadn’t spread to any neighbors. “Finding a place is a nightmare,” Dad said one evening. “It’s hard enough with two kids. We’ll have to send one of them to stay somewhere else for a while.” As soon as the words left his mouth, every head in the room turned to me. I gave a weak, wry smile. The old Lily would have thrown herself into their arms, sobbing and begging until they relented with an exasperated, “Oh, what are we going to do with you? We’ve spoiled you rotten, that’s why you’re always so dramatic.” But Leo and Leah never had to be dramatic to get what they wanted. This time, I didn’t make a scene. I just nodded, took a small step back, and said in a hoarse voice, “I’ll go.” They all looked at me, surprised, but no one argued. So I was sent to live with my uncle. I spent my days walking on eggshells, trying to read the moods of my aunt and uncle. At first, they offered tight-lipped smiles. Soon, even those vanished, replaced by cold indifference. It didn’t matter if I woke up early to do all the chores or collected plastic bottles to exchange for a few coins to give them. They’d just purse their lips, a look of vague disgust on their faces. Then, one afternoon, as I was scrubbing the bathroom, I overheard them talking. “When is she leaving?” my aunt complained. “Just a few more days,” my uncle sighed. “Ugh. Haven’t you noticed that… smell on her? I feel like I have to shower twice every time she speaks to me. And besides, another mouth to feed… it’s a lot of pressure.” I looked down at myself and sniffed my clothes. They didn’t like me using the shower. So I hadn’t. That night at dinner, I forced a smile. “Uncle, I don’t think my room is very comfortable. Maybe I could move into the basement? And you don’t have to worry about me for meals. I can figure something out for myself.” I carefully controlled my voice, keeping it light and casual, as if I were just sharing a funny story. I couldn’t risk upsetting them. They nodded, the icy tension in their faces thawing slightly. “Here, Lily,” my aunt said, in a rare show of generosity, placing a piece of egg on my rice. “Don’t just eat plain rice.” 4 The basement was freezing. The door was warped and didn’t shut properly, letting in a draft that felt like a thousand tiny needles piercing the wounds on my back, making them itch and ache. I huddled under a thin, ragged blanket, tears and snot streaming down my face. My mouth was so dry. I hadn’t had any water all day. The thirst was a physical pain. Finally, I crept out of my hole. By the door, a puddle of grimy water had leaked from a drainpipe. A stray cat was lapping at it. I hesitated for a moment, then knelt down beside it. In the face of thirst, dignity was a luxury I couldn’t afford. The water was cold and, to me, it tasted sweet. When I had drunk my fill, I wiped my mouth and stood up, only to find my brother Leo standing there, his face a cold mask. I had no idea how long he’d been watching me. Why was he here? Watching me like this. My body swayed, and my first instinct was to run and hide. “Let’s go,” he said suddenly, stepping forward. “It’s New Year’s Eve. You’re coming home for dinner.” I wasn’t expecting that. I stumbled backward, terrified that the smell of me, of the basement, would offend him. But he just frowned, his brow furrowed in irritation, and grabbed my arm. “Let’s go!” He dragged me to his car. The entire drive, I was a bundle of nerves. When we arrived, I saw their new home. I stayed by the car, just looking. It was a neat, two-story house with a small yard. Clean and tidy. They weren’t struggling for money. So why couldn’t they have taken me with them? I stared at my worn-out shoes, hesitating to go inside. Through the window, I could hear them laughing. I could hear Mom and Dad calling Leah their “sweet girl,” their voices full of joy. I was an intruder here. Just then, Leah’s voice piped up. “Where’s Lily?” The laughter died instantly. A sudden, heavy silence fell over the room. Leo, standing beside me, said nothing, his expression unreadable. Then I heard Mom’s voice, cold and sharp. “She burned our house down. What right does she have to come back? It’s enough that we’re letting her come for dinner. When she gets here, we’re going to give her a piece of our mind.” I looked at Leo, my heart pounding in disbelief. “You were there,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “You know it wasn’t me. It was Leah…” Before I could finish, Leo whipped his head around, hissing, “Shut up!” His voice made me shrink back into the shadows. I don’t know when it started, this hyper-sensitivity to sound, to the anger in people’s voices. Disgust, annoyance, rage—it all made me tremble. “I’m sorry…” I mumbled. His face grew even colder. “Leah is fragile enough as it is. It’s New Year’s. Don’t start trouble. Does it really matter who’s to blame?” He said it as if I wasn’t his sister, too. I felt the sharp angles of my own bones through my thin clothes and nodded. “I won’t tell anyone,” I promised. His expression softened slightly. “Go on in. Mom and Dad told me to get you.” I shook my head, keeping my eyes on the ground. “Can you give me some money? I need to buy medicine.” The coldness returned to his eyes, his dark gaze filled with disgust. “Do you have any conscience at all? You finally come home, and the first thing you do is ask for money?” Even as he said it, he pulled a few crisp bills from his pocket and threw them at my face. I didn’t react. I just knelt to pick up the money from the dirty pavement. Leo clenched his fists, his anger seeming to grow. “Pathetic,” he sneered. “I’m humiliating you like this, and you won’t even fight back?” He was right. The old me would have screamed, would have hit him. I ignored him. Suddenly, a searing cramp tore through my abdomen. I’d gotten my period, and the icy, dirty water I’d just drunk… “Could you… could you get me a cup of hot water? Please…” I clutched my stomach, tears welling in my eyes. Seeing me suddenly so weak, a smirk touched his lips, a flicker of satisfaction in his eyes. He didn’t say a word. He just strode back inside and slammed the door shut. “She won’t come!” I heard him shout through the closed door. “Said she’d rather die than be here!” The pain in my stomach was a twisting knife. A cold sweat broke out on my forehead as a wave of nausea washed over me. My legs gave out. I collapsed to my knees, and the world went black. In the fuzzy haze before I lost consciousness, I thought I saw their faces, panicked and horrified, staring out at me from the doorway.

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On our third wedding anniversary, my wife, a programmer at a major tech firm, suddenly announced she had to work overtime on a tight deadline and couldn’t go on our planned trip. That same afternoon, I saw a video posted by the intern she was mentoring. My wife, who usually wouldn’t even open a door for fear of chipping her manicure, was using a screwdriver to fix an old feature phone. The caption read: “Having a programmer for a girlfriend is the best. Grandma’s phone breaks, and you don’t even have to pay for repairs.” I laughed and left a comment: “Perfect professional alignment.” The company’s group chat exploded. 99+ notifications, all of them speculating on when I would finally snap. When my wife called, her voice was glacial. “What’s with that comment? How is Jack supposed to face anyone at the office now?” “His grandmother’s phone broke, so I helped him fix it. What’s the big deal? You have no idea what real problems are like, growing up so sheltered.” “Delete the comment, now. I’ll make it up to you with a trip over the long weekend.” She’d been promising since Memorial Day, then pushed it to the Fourth of July. Now she was flaking on the vacation time I’d specifically booked, and still dangling another empty promise? I hung up. By the time my vacation was over, the mandatory waiting period for the divorce would be, too. 1. The phone immediately started ringing again. After hanging up a dozen times, I got fed up and blocked Stella’s number. In three years of marriage, I had catered to her every whim. This was the first time I had ever ignored her call. “Mr. Noah Cole? Your photographer is ready for your anniversary photoshoot. Is your wife arriving soon?” I glanced at the pristine white dress hanging on the rack. “She’s not coming. Let’s change the theme to ‘celebrating my new single life.’” Ignoring the photographer’s sympathetic look, I glanced at my buzzing phone. The intern, Jack, had tagged everyone in the work chat. “Hey everyone, that post from today was just a joke. Please don’t misunderstand!” That wasn’t an explanation; it was a victory lap. I sneered. Stella quickly chimed in to support him. “Jack, you don’t have to explain. Anyone can see it was a joke. Only someone truly petty would take it seriously.” With the boss backing him, the rest of the team quickly fell in line, eager to show their loyalty. “Yeah, we all got the joke. No need to explain it to us.” “Just explain it to that one person. We all know who can’t take a joke around here.” It was obvious to anyone with eyes that the boss favored Jack. So, even though they knew I was the one who’d been wronged, my colleagues all took the opportunity to kiss up to him by putting me down. Even the senior developers I had personally mentored were shamelessly sucking up to him. After all, Stella was the company founder, and Jack was the apple of her eye. And me? I was just the husband who’d helped her build it all from scratch. The sentimental fool who was in way over his head. I flipped my phone face down on the table, unwilling to watch the parade of corporate ass-kissing. But I’d barely taken a few shots when my colleague Mark called, his voice frantic. “Noah, what’s going on with the code for the Summit Corp. custom firewall? It’s full of bugs and won’t run. The client is already here and raising hell.” I frowned. “That’s Jack’s project. Why are you calling me?” “I know! But Stella said the kid was just a little careless and that you should help him fix it.” I laughed, a harsh, humorless sound. That project was complex. I had told Stella from the beginning that Jack couldn’t handle it, but she insisted on letting him “get some practice.” And now that it had blown up in their faces, they remembered I existed. “If the ‘kid’ was careless, then the ‘kid’ can go back and check his work. If the client is angry, the boss can handle it. Follow company procedure.” I hung up before Mark could say another word. So, you screw up while placating your boy toy, and you expect me to clean up the mess and write the code for him? Not a chance. My expression hardened. The photographer, sensing the mood, started snapping away, capturing a dozen shots of me looking fierce and formidable. Fifteen minutes later, Stella’s assistant came running up to me, holding out her phone. “Noah, it’s Stella. She needs to talk to you.” Are you kidding me? She sent her assistant to track me down here? I snatched the phone. Stella’s voice was tight, barely suppressing her fury. “Noah, don’t push it.” “Jack did nothing to you. Are you trying to humiliate him, or are you trying to humiliate me?” I leaned back in the chair and snorted. “Did the CEO really send her personal assistant all the way here just to ask me that?” Her patience snapped. “So I bailed on our trip. You shouldn’t be making a scene over something so trivial!” she threatened. “Take me off your block list, right now, and fix Jack’s code. Then we can forget this ever happened.” I gritted my teeth, about to hang up again. Then I heard laughter in the background. Someone was teasing Jack for wiping sweat off Stella’s forehead. My voice dripped with sarcasm. “Stella, you’re already meeting his parents. Why are you still calling me?” “Aren’t you afraid people might get the wrong idea?” “Oh, right. I’m the only one in the entire company who can’t take a joke.” Her voice shot up an octave. “What are you talking about, meeting his parents? Don’t spread rumors!” “Jack’s family lives in the countryside. It’s not easy for them to get around. Is it so wrong for a boss to show some concern for her employee? Honestly, dirty-minded people see dirt everywhere!” She was panting with rage. Then I heard the boy toy’s voice in the background. “Stella, my mom has dinner ready. Let’s go eat.” Her tone instantly softened, becoming gentle and coaxing, like she was talking to a child. “You go ahead, sweetie. I’ll be right there as soon as I finish up with this.” When she spoke to me again, her voice was ice. “Noah, I want that code fixed and submitted within three days. If you miss the deadline, you’ll be responsible for the penalty fees, and you can submit your resignation. It won’t look good for anyone.” The line went dead. I gave a bitter smile. I should have accepted the truth long ago: Stella didn’t love me. I should have known it every time she stood me up for Jack, every time she spoke to me with such venom to defend him. I should have known it the moment she signed that divorce agreement. There was no going back. The photoshoot was the last thing on my mind. I changed and went back to the hotel. My phone showed hundreds of missed calls from my colleagues. My work messenger was flooded with files and urgent demands for progress reports. It seemed they had finally realized I was the only one who could actually do the job. But in three days, I would be divorced and unemployed. Why should I care if their project defaulted? I submitted my resignation through the HR portal. I expected Stella to fight it, to drag it out. To my surprise, the process was incredibly fast. My termination was finalized in less than half an hour. Normally, it would take a day or two. It couldn’t have happened that quickly without Stella’s direct approval. I hadn’t realized she could be so ruthless. But it was a relief. The barrage of work messages stopped, and a weight lifted from my shoulders. I spent the next three days enjoying my vacation, just as planned, before heading home. This was the house we had renovated together. We had refused to sell it even during the toughest days of building the company. Back then, we would work until midnight, come home, and collapse on the sofa, massaging each other’s aching backs. Life was hard, but the memories were sweet. But then Stella started coming home less and less. She was always flying somewhere with Jack, claiming it was for business, but his social media was a travelogue of tourist destinations. I ran my hand over the throw pillow she had given me. It was still soft, but like our love, it was covered in a layer of dust that made my eyes water. I knew there was nothing left here for me to hold on to. I called a real estate agent and put the house on the market. The next day, I went to the office to pack up my things. As I walked out with a box in my arms, I saw my colleagues whispering in small groups. The news of my departure had clearly spread. Just as I reached the door, Jack blocked my path. “Noah, have you fixed my code yet?” He glanced at the box in my hands, then his eyes widened in feigned surprise. “Noah, what are you doing? You’re not… quitting, are you?” I rolled my eyes. “Are you an idiot? You saw my resignation notice on the company messenger yesterday. Did you already forget?” Jack’s expression stiffened, a flicker of anger in his eyes. “Even if you quit, you’re still responsible for the client’s penalty fees if the project isn’t finished.” I laughed. “If I remember correctly, the contract lists you as the project lead, doesn’t it?” I clicked my tongue and shouldered past him. It was a light bump, but he staggered back as if he’d been hit by a car and crumpled to the floor. “Ah!” “Jack! Are you okay?” Stella heard the commotion and came running. She helped him up, saw he was unharmed, and tenderly brushed the dust off his clothes. Then she turned to me, her eyes like daggers. “Why did you push him? Apologize, now.” Jack shot me a timid glance, then looked at Stella with a pitiful, wounded expression. “It’s okay, Stella. It’s not Noah’s fault. I was just so worried about the Summit Corp. project…” He bit his lip. “I was rushing and I fell.” Stella patted his back comfortingly. “You’re too kind. I saw the whole thing. He pushed you.” She stepped in front of me. “Noah, is it really that hard for you to help fix a few bugs? Do you even want this job?” I sneered. “I haven’t wanted this job for a long time. I quit yesterday. What is there to fix?” “You quit? Noah, what is this now?” She was the one who approved the resignation, and now she was pretending not to know? She was silent for a moment, then looked at me coldly. “I already apologized for canceling our trip. What more do you want?” “If you’re unhappy with me, can you at least not bring it to work?” She still thought this was about her ditching me for our anniversary. I was tired. Too tired to explain. I tried to walk around them. But Stella darted in front of me again. “Stop right there!” “What’s in that box? You’re not walking out of here with company property or confidential information!” I looked up and met her furious gaze. A wave of bitterness and anger churned inside me. My hands started to tremble. Then, something snapped. I tipped the box over, dumping its contents onto the floor. “Look! See for yourself!” It was all just my personal stuff. The last thing to fall was a ceramic mug. It hit the floor with a sharp crack that seemed to make Stella’s heart jolt. It was old and faded, but spotlessly clean. It was a gift from her, from the early days of the company. Back then, when she said she wanted to be with me forever, she meant it. Now, that promise was as broken as the mug on the floor. Fighting back tears, I ground the ceramic shards under my heel and walked away. “This is just trash I don’t want anymore. And we don’t need to see each other again!” It felt good to finally let it all out. I walked out of the building feeling lighter than I had in years. Just then, Anna from the bespoke tailor shop pulled up with the suit I had cancelled. It was the one I had ordered for our third-anniversary celebration. “Who ordered this?” I asked her. “Ms. Stella ordered it. It’s custom-made for Mr. Jack. It’s the same design as the one you cancelled.” “Is that so?” With all my strength, I ripped the jacket apart. Buttons scattered across the pavement. No wonder Jack had been bragging on social media about the thousand-dollar suit he was going to wear to some gala with Stella. It was my money paying for it. I threw the ruined suit on the ground. “Tell Stella I did this. This was my suit. Jack can’t pull it off.” I walked away, leaving Anna staring in shock. The moment I held the divorce certificate in my hand, I felt an incredible sense of relief. This miserable, suffocating marriage was finally over. I was humming to myself as I walked up to my front door, but I stopped when I heard voices inside. It was Stella’s parents. “What kind of man is Noah? He’s completely useless, but acts like he’s king of the world!” “We came all this way, and he couldn’t even be bothered to pick us up. It was Jack who ran around doing everything for us,” her father grumbled. Her mother chimed in. “Jack may be from the countryside, but he’s a much better person than Noah. And he knows how to respect his elders. He’ll be a great father to your children one day.” Jack blushed. “Oh, Auntie, what are you saying? Stella and Noah are the ones who are married.” That seemed to set her off. “They can get divorced! Didn’t you say he ripped up that expensive suit Stella bought for you? He’s violent and wasteful. How can you live with a man like that?” My hand froze on the doorknob. Before Stella’s company had taken off, they hadn’t treated me like this. Back then, they were impressed by my city background and my ability to help their daughter. They couldn’t wait to call me their son-in-law. The warmth they showed me then only made their current coldness more painful. After a long silence, Stella’s voice, cool and detached, finally came. She didn’t say a single word in my defense. “Let’s not talk about this. Let’s just eat.” Her mother wouldn’t let it go. “Eat? Every time I try to talk sense into you, you change the subject! Am I trying to hurt you? You’re still young. Why not find a man who will cherish you, who will be good to you and respect your parents?” “Noah just sits around all day. He’s not as useful as Jack at the office, and he doesn’t do any chores at home. How is he supposed to take care of you? And you’ve been married for three years. Is there something wrong with him? Why haven’t you gotten pregnant?” She painted me as a complete waste of space. She had no idea that the money her daughter was using to travel the world with her boy toy was money that I had earned. “That’s right, Stella. Jack heard we get carsick and he made a special plum soup for us. He’s such a thoughtful boy!” her father added. I had to laugh. He made a bowl of soup, and that makes him a saint? For years, while Stella was busy with the company, I was the one who took care of her parents whenever they were sick. Last year, when her father broke his leg and couldn’t even use the bathroom by himself, I was the one who took care of him, day and night. But they didn’t remember any of that. My nails dug into my palms. I couldn’t take it anymore. I threw the door open. The four of them froze, stunned to see me. Stella was the first to recover. “Noah, where have you been? Why are you home so late?” she demanded. Before I could answer, her mother crossed her arms and sneered. “Just because you’re a director at your wife’s company, you think you’re hot stuff? You’re nothing but a moocher.” I ignored her and looked straight at Stella. “You didn’t tell your mother I quit?” Stella’s eyes narrowed. “Noah, your little tantrum over Jack has gone on long enough. If you threaten me with quitting again, I will have to consider firing you, for the good of the company.” I burst out laughing. “Stella, what are you talking about? You approved my resignation yourself yesterday. Don’t you remember?” Her mother’s face twisted into a knowing, contemptuous smirk. “I knew it. You just want to be a kept man. You want to quit working so you can live off my daughter’s money and bleed her dry!” Stella’s expression flickered. “I didn’t approve any resignations yesterday!” I rolled my eyes, too tired to argue. The divorce was final. All that mattered now was getting my stuff and getting away from this toxic family. As I started to walk toward the bedroom, Jack stopped me. “Noah, you’re back! Come on, wash your hands and eat with us. I just made some simple home-style dishes. I hope you like them!” I turned to see him standing there, wearing my apron, pulling out a chair for me with a welcoming smile, as if he were the man of the house. I just glanced at him and sneered. Her father slammed his hand on the table. “Stop right there! Have you no manners? Jack was kind enough to invite you to eat, and you act like this? Our family doesn’t have a son-in-law like you!” Jack rushed to her father’s side, looking hurt. “Uncle, it’s not his fault. He’s always been like this…” That was all her mother needed to hear. “Noah, surely even you can see what’s happening. If you don’t want to make things ugly, you should agree to the divorce and stop…” Stella shot to her feet, cutting her mother off. “Mom! We don’t have to get a divorce.” I looked at her, confused by the strange, flickering light in her eyes. For a moment, it looked almost like… affection. “Noah, what’s wrong with you lately? You’re always fighting with me. You refused to fix the code, you attacked Jack, you even tore up the suit he was going to wear.” “Are you going through menopause or something?” I looked at her earnest, concerned face, and I had the strongest urge to slap her. She brought her lover into our home, and she had the nerve to ask me if I was going through menopause? I threw the divorce certificate in her face. “You’re the one going through menopause!” “Do you see this? We’re divorced. Now you can take your family and get the hell out of my house!”

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