Author: Momo Chan

There were only two seats left at the company dinner. One was in the dark corner, and the other was right next to Ethan Vance, my secret boyfriend of three years. Just as I took a step forward, Ethan spoke up, his voice cutting through the chatter as he called out my best friend’s name. “Sienna, why don’t you sit here?” Instantly, the surrounding coworkers let out low, teasing cheers. Our office Snapchat group went absolutely wild. “They look so good together! What a perfect couple.” “Mr. Vance has never invited anyone to sit next to him before.” “I swear he treats Sienna differently. I don’t care, this is real.” Throughout the entire dinner, Ethan didn’t spare me a single glance, all in the name of “keeping things professional.” Even when a clumsy waiter spilled hot soup and scalded my hand, Ethan was too busy blocking drinks for Sienna to notice. At that exact moment, a thought suddenly popped into my head. This hidden relationship. I didn’t want to continue it anymore. While I was in the restroom treating my burn with cold water, I saw a text Sienna had sent me half an hour ago. “Chloe, don’t take what they’re saying in the group chat to heart. They’re just teasing. Don’t worry about it.” I wiped my hands dry and replied, “I know.” A minute ago, Ethan had also sent a message. “I only did that to keep our distance at work. Don’t overthink it.” I stared at the message, a sudden tightness squeezing my chest. In my three years at this company, I couldn’t even count how many times this had happened. Team-building events, dinners, meetings… The person next to Ethan was always a department manager, or Sienna, or some other employee. It was never me. Even on the rare occasions I had a chance to stand next to him, he would deliberately swap places with someone else. To “avoid gossip,” he ignored my eyes, ignored my words. Because my coworkers saw his coldness toward me, they treated me like an outcast. I locked my phone and didn’t reply. When I went back, they were still laughing and talking as if nothing had happened. Only the throbbing blister on my hand reminded me of my decision to walk away. As the dinner ended, a coworker playfully pushed Sienna toward Ethan. “Mr. Vance, there’s a severe storm warning tonight, and Uber wait times are crazy. It’s not safe for Sienna to go home alone. Would you mind driving her?” Ethan didn’t refuse. “Sure. I’m heading toward Bayview. Anyone else on the way?” He spoke casually, but his eyes were locked straight on me. My throat tightened. Three years ago, I was stalked by a stranger on my way home from work, and I had been terrified of walking alone at night ever some. Ethan knew this. Since then, he had driven me home every single day. I opened my mouth. “I also…” “I’ll take care of the other guys,” another coworker cut me off, stepping right in front of me. “Mr. Vance, you should just take Sienna home first.” Ethan stared at me for a few more seconds before finally looking away. He nodded and turned. “Thanks.” Then he drove off. When I finally told the remaining coworker my address, he looked at me with an annoyed grimace. “Chloe, why didn’t you say earlier that you lived in Bayview?” “It’s already 1 AM. If I drive you back and then go home, it’s going to take me forever. Why don’t you just call an Uber?” “The wait times are long, but I’m sure you’ll get one eventually.” I silently opened my rideshare app. Estimated wait time: 53 minutes. Meanwhile, notifications kept popping up in the office Snapchat group as people safely reached home. Then, someone started a new thread. “Did anyone else notice how a certain someone kept trying to squeeze next to Mr. Vance tonight? Does she seriously not realize how much he dislikes her?” “Right! If Mr. Vance hadn’t called Sienna over, she would have sat there!” “And when Mr. Vance asked if anyone was on the way, it was so obvious he just wanted to be alone with Sienna. He was just being polite. Only a certain someone took it seriously.” Sienna replied vaguely, “Guys, don’t talk about her like that. Mr. Vance was just looking out for me because I’m new.” But that only made the coworkers mock me even harder. “Please! When that certain someone first started and dropped all her files after being chewed out by the manager, Mr. Vance walked right past her without even looking.” “Besides, Mr. Vance didn’t deny anything. Actions speak louder than words!” Staring at the screen, I felt nothing but numbness. Sienna had joined this company because she heard I was being targeted and wanted to “keep me company.” Now, she was the office darling. And her comfort to me was always just a few lazy, half-hearted texts telling me not to overthink it because “they didn’t mean any harm.” When rumors spread about Sienna and Ethan, Ethan merely told me to stop wasting my energy on “insignificant matters.” Insignificant. I guess only those who don’t care about you would think your feelings are insignificant. The night wind felt freezing against my face. I left the chat group, logged into the company portal, and submitted my resignation. Since I had decided to end this relationship, there was no need to keep swallowing this humiliation.

It was 2 AM by the time an Uber finally picked me up. When I walked through the door of our shared apartment, Ethan stood up from the couch. “Why didn’t you tell me you were heading to Bayview earlier? I could have easily brought you back with us.” Hearing his casual tone, I wanted to ask him: Didn’t you see how our coworker cut me off just to set you up with Sienna? Couldn’t you have just insisted on taking me? But the words died on my tongue. “I forgot.” I walked closer. That was when I noticed he was wearing matching pajamas. Before tonight, under the guise of professionalism, Ethan had never agreed to wear anything matching with me, even at home. I softened slightly. “I thought you said you hated matching clothes.” Ethan opened his mouth to speak. But before he could, Sienna walked out of our guest bathroom, wearing the matching set. “I made him wear it,” she said with a bright giggle. “This brand was having a buy-one-get-one-free sale for couples. But I didn’t know what size to get for the guy’s version, so I wanted Ethan to try it on for me.” My face froze. The tiny spark of joy in my heart vanished instantly. I had thought Ethan wore them because he saw my resignation draft and wanted to make things up to me by finally going public. But it was all because of Sienna. Sienna looked Ethan up and down. “Actually, I think the men’s size is a bit too big for what I wanted.” “Never mind, I won’t buy it. I don’t have a boyfriend anyway, so it’d just go to waste at home.” Hearing the disappointment in her voice, Ethan spoke naturally. “Then just take this set with you.” Sienna’s eyes lit up. “Seriously?” Ethan’s expression was calm, but a soft smile played on his lips. “Yeah. Chloe has never worn her set anyway. It’s just taking up space in her closet.” I kept my head down, my fists clenching and unclenching. He was right. It was just taking up space. What was the point of couple’s pajamas if only one person wore them? So I had left them in the back of the closet to gather dust. I used to think I could wait until the day Ethan was ready to go public, the day he would wear them with me. Instead, I waited just to see them gifted to someone else. “Take them,” I said quietly. “I won’t be needing them anyway.” Sienna spun around happily. “Chloe, you’re the best!” “Oh, by the way, I’m really scared of storms. Can I stay with you guys for a few days?” “Just until the weather clears up.” I changed my shoes and headed to the bedroom. “Do whatever you want.” I was leaving soon anyway. It didn’t matter how long she stayed. Once we were in bed, Ethan suddenly spoke into the darkness. “You’re very quiet today.” “Usually, when I give away those couple’s items, you get upset.” My body went rigid under the blanket. When we first got together, I had excitedly bought so many matching things. Matching mugs, matching slippers, matching umbrellas, matching pens. I wanted everything around us to show we were a couple. But the very next day, Ethan had given his matching items away as raffle prizes at an office party. Some coworkers noticed I had the exact same items and mocked me behind my back for “hopelessly crushing on the boss.” I became the biggest joke in the company. What hurt me wasn’t that he didn’t like matching things; it was that he chose the most humiliating way to reject them. And after that, to “avoid suspicion,” he wouldn’t even ride in the same elevator as me. When I gave him the silent treatment back then, Ethan took me to his private wine cellar, pointed to a wall of priceless red wine, and told me, “These bottles are priceless vintages from the year you were born. I bought them all. We are only opening them on our wedding day.” I had always believed Ethan’s love was silent, that he was just bad at expressing it. But seeing him try on pajamas with Sienna tonight, I finally understood. True love doesn’t need to be hidden or explained. And when you have to force yourself to believe someone loves you, it’s already a lie. “Didn’t you say those couple’s items were useless?” my voice was flat. “Since they’re useless, it doesn’t matter who gets them.” Ethan remained silent and didn’t say another word.

The next morning, the office pantry was packed with people gossiping around Sienna. “Sienna! That selfie you posted on Instagram was definitely not at your apartment! Don’t tell me…” “You slept at Mr. Vance’s place!” “And those pajamas look like a couple’s set! Oh my god, you guys are moving fast!” “I knew Mr. Vance liked you! He personally brought you in during hiring. It was basically him marking his territory!” “And last week when your blood sugar dropped and you almost fainted, the company suddenly added free afternoon snacks the very next day!” My hand froze on the pantry door handle. That afternoon, I had skipped lunch to help Sienna fix her data entry errors. I was the one who actually fainted in the breakroom. Ethan had seen me. But he had stepped right over me to catch Sienna, who had only stumbled behind me. The panic in his eyes back then was real. When I got angry about it later, his explanation was: “You have me, but Sienna is single. If she gets hurt on my watch, it’s my responsibility.” “I only look out for her because she’s your best friend.” “Are you seriously getting jealous of your own friend?” I didn’t want to hear any more of their giggling. I turned and walked away. Just then, Mark from HR rushed in, looking ecstatic. “Guys! I have two massive pieces of news!” “First, Mr. Vance is getting married! I literally just heard him ordering a custom engagement ring!” The coworkers squealed even louder around Sienna. “Oh my god, Sienna! Congrats!” Mark cleared his throat. “And the second news is…” “Mr. Vance just approved a promotion list, and it’s for our department!” Everyone cheered. “Who else could it be but Sienna!” “Let me be the first to call you Mrs. Vance!” Sienna blushed and played coy. “It might not be me. Chloe has been here much longer.” I didn’t stay to hear the rest of their guessing game. Leila, the HR director, had received my resignation and called me into her office. “Chloe, your performance reviews, project data, and strategy plans are flawless. Why are you suddenly resigning?” I kept my eyes down. “Leila, the promotion Mr. Vance just approved… was it mine?” Leila went silent. “I’ve been here for three years,” I said quietly. “People who started at the same time as me are already department heads. I’m the only one who hasn’t moved an inch.” Every year, HR put my name forward for a promotion. And every year, Ethan would find some minor, insignificant mistake to reject it. Leila frowned. “Chloe, did you somehow offend Mr. Vance?” “Maybe you should go apologize to him?” I let out a bitter laugh. I hadn’t offended him. I was just his dirty little secret. Leila didn’t push further. “Since you’re a standard employee, your resignation doesn’t require executive approval.” “If you’ve made up your mind, I’ll process it.” Right after that, Ethan called an all-hands department meeting. His face was grim. “The financial reports submitted two days ago had major data errors. The client pointed them out on the spot.” He looked up, cold eyes scanning the room. “Chloe Henderson, your team handled this, right?” “If you can’t handle being the assistant lead, step down. You’re losing a month’s salary, and Sienna will be taking over your position as team lead.” Several coworkers immediately beamed, shooting smug, congratulatory looks at Sienna. But I just stared at the data sheet on the screen. That report was the one Sienna and I had worked on together. Ethan knew very well that I wasn’t the one responsible for the data entry. I clenched my fists so hard my nails dug into my palms. My heart went completely cold. She made the mistake, I took the fall, and he used it as an excuse to strip me of my title and hand it to her. A self-deprecating smile crept onto my face. How pathetic. Ethan noticed my expression and knit his brows slightly. After the meeting, he called me into his office. “The data was indeed Sienna’s mistake, but as her supervisor, you are responsible for the oversight.” “Do you have an issue with the demotion and pay cut?” My face remained blank. I replied in a cold, professional tone, “No.” “I’m sure Mr. Vance has his reasons.” Ethan’s frown deepened, but he didn’t say anything else. He just waved his hand for me to leave. As I walked out of his office, Sienna approached me holding a cup of coffee, looking incredibly apologetic. “Chloe, do you want some coffee?” I pushed her hand back. “No, thanks.”

Her face instantly crumpled into a victimized pout. “Chloe, are you mad at me because of the demotion?” “But promotions and demotions are entirely the boss’s decision. I couldn’t change his mind even if I tried.” My expression didn’t change. “I’m not mad.” “Mr. Vance’s decisions have nothing to do with me.” Hearing my cold tone, Sienna’s eyes welled with tears. “How can you say you’re not mad?” “You won’t even take my coffee! You’re clearly furious at me!” Seeing Sienna “crying,” the surrounding coworkers immediately stepped in to defend her. “Chloe, are you seriously jealous of Sienna’s promotion?” “Sienna bought coffee for the entire team. She kept this specific one just for you, and you’re treating her like trash.” “Sienna, just ignore her. She didn’t deserve the position anyway. There’s a reason Mr. Vance blocked her promotions for three years!” “Exactly! And remember three years ago when she acted like a delusional clinger around Mr. Vance? He probably hated her back then, and she just dragged things out for three years.” Their cruel, mocking words washed over me like a tide. I took a deep breath, trying to keep my voice steady. “I didn’t take the coffee because I’m allergic to it.” “And from beginning to end, did I say a single word about being unhappy with her promotion?” Sienna’s hand froze, her eyes overflowing with tears. “I’m so sorry, Chloe… I didn’t know you were allergic.” A coworker snapped, “Chloe, what is wrong with your attitude? Can’t you just explain your allergy nicely?” “Besides, who knows if you’re actually allergic? You’re just jealous that Mr. Vance favors Sienna, and that he’s about to propose to her!” Hearing their ridiculous delusions, the anger I had suppressed for three years finally erupted. I held up my hand, showing the simple silver band on my ring finger. “Ethan Vance is my boyfriend. Why on earth would I be jealous of her?” The entire office fell dead silent. Then, someone burst out laughing. “Oh my god, this is hilarious! She really thinks she’s Mr. Vance’s girlfriend!” “This is actual harassment at this point, right? She even bought herself a fake ring!” Furious, I turned around to find Ethan, wanting him to put an end to this. But I saw him walking out of his office. I looked straight into his cold eyes. “Ethan, tell them!” “What exactly is our relationship?” As he remained silent, knitting his brows, the coworkers began to whisper. “Mr. Vance isn’t denying it… is Chloe actually his girlfriend?” “Then what was going on with him and Sienna?” Hearing the whispers, Ethan’s expression hardened. He said coldly, “Our relationship?” “We are boss and employee.” “Chloe Henderson, for spreading rumors about your superior and insubordination, you are suspended for seven days without pay.” Looking at the absolute ice in his eyes, my heart shattered into pieces. I let out a soft laugh, slowly slid the ring off my finger, and dropped it onto the floor. “We’re done, Ethan.” His hand twitched, but he forced himself to stay put. Hearing my words, the coworkers scoffed even louder. “The boss literally just shut her down, and she’s still acting out a breakup drama?” Several people mocked me. “A real relationship is what he has with Sienna. The moment Sienna gets upset, Mr. Vance steps in to defend her.” “Chloe, next time you fantasize, pick a normal guy.” The group burst into laughter. I ignored them completely, silently packing my things into a box. Ethan, a seven-day suspension is too short. We are never seeing each other again. Ethan stood by the window, watching me walk out of the office building. He drafted an explanatory text, deleted it, drafted it again, and deleted it once more. By the time the workday ended, he still hadn’t sent anything. When he got back to our apartment and realized I wasn’t there, he tried to text me, only to see a red exclamation mark. I had blocked him. When Sienna found out, she put on a worried face. “Is Chloe still mad about today? But you already announced your proposal plans. Why does she have to be so dramatic?” Ethan frowned, remembering the empty look in my eyes when I walked out of his office. A sudden wave of panic washed over him, but he forced himself to stay calm. “She’s just throwing a tantrum because of the demotion. I’ll just give her the promotion back when she returns.” But seven days later, I still hadn’t shown up for work. Left with no choice, Ethan asked HR to contact me. “Promote Chloe? But she already resigned,” Leila said.

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The new female coworker was gorgeous. But my childhood friend, Victor, told me she was nothing but a “bitch.” That was until I had to pull three all-nighters in a row just to clean up her work disasters. Instead of apologizing, he stormed into my place, smelling of alcohol and radiating anger. “Why is your work ethic so trash? You couldn’t even cover one little mistake by yourself?” “If you hadn’t desperately called me back to the office, I would’ve been in her bed by now.” I stared at him, wondering if I was hallucinating from sleep deprivation. Later, he stood by the office entrance early in the morning, blocking my path. “Kate, why did you request to change partners?” The new girl captured everyone’s attention the second she walked in. Her low-cut, white lace dress perfectly hugged her curves. The moment the clock struck five, guys from our department—and even other floors—crowded around her desk, trying to strike up a conversation. Only Victor, my childhood friend, didn’t join the crowd. He shut his laptop and walked over to me. He gave me his usual bright, sunny smile. “Kate, what are you spacing out for? Let’s head home.” In the car, I couldn’t help but ask, “Don’t you think the new girl is pretty? Her body is insane.” Victor scoffed dismissively. “Looks are just skin deep. Who cares how pretty she is? She’s just a bitch who uses her body to hook men.” I frowned. His harsh words made me uncomfortable. But he didn’t notice. “Don’t you dare learn from her. She doesn’t want to work hard; she just wants to rely on men while she’s still young.” I chose to stay silent. The next day, the office was still buzzing around her. To my surprise, the new girl hadn’t stayed at her assigned cubicle. She had packed up her things and moved. Right next to Victor. She flashed a radiant smile and extended her hand to him. “Please look after me from now on, neighbor.” I turned to look at Victor. Without a second thought, he grabbed her hand. The new girl turned her head, her eyes shifting from my face to their clasped hands. She arched an eyebrow. Her smile widened, and she squeezed his hand even tighter.

After work, I was organizing the files for tomorrow’s meeting. Then, like always, I stood by the lobby entrance, waiting for Victor. We always commuted together. But minutes ticked by. Victor, who was usually the first to bolt after work, was now thirty minutes late. I sent him a text on Snapchat, but got no reply. I had no choice but to go back upstairs to find him. He was still at his desk. The new girl, Alice, was holding his hand, whining and swaying gently against him. I tapped on the partition. They both looked up at me. “Kate, is it time to go?” Victor blurted out, looking slightly flushed. “Oh, actually… I won’t be heading out with you today. I’m helping Alice sort out some of her work.” My hand froze on his desk. My eyes met Alice’s. Half of her body was practically draped over his shoulder. She gave me a fragile, pitiful smile, as if she were the victim here. “I heard you two have known each other since you were kids and make a great team. I’m new and have so much to learn. Can I borrow him for tonight?” “Don’t be so stingy. I’ll return him to you tomorrow.” Victor pinched her cheek playfully, though his tone held a mock complaint. “Why are you asking her permission?” Alice giggled, placing her hands on his face, pinching him back. “What? Are you trying to reject me?” It hadn’t even been two days, and they were already flirting in broad daylight. Without a word, I grabbed my bag and turned on my heel. As I reached the door, I heard Alice’s teasing voice behind me. “Oh, stop pinching me. Your little wife looks mad.” “What wife? We’ve just known each other a long time.” “Oh, really? So there’s nothing going on between you two?” “Of course not.” A sharp ache bloomed in my chest. My eyes burned. I slammed the door shut behind me.

Our families lived next door to each other, so I usually had dinner at Victor’s house before heading home. As I walked past his porch, his mother, Mrs. Miller, was waiting at the door, wearing her apron and smiling warmly. Seeing me alone, she looked surprised. “Why are you so late today, sweetie? Did they make you work overtime?” “That company is ridiculous. Whatever it is, it can wait till tomorrow.” “Wait, where is Victor? Did he get held up?” I pulled my coat tighter around myself, forcing a smile. “A new colleague started today. Victor was asked to stay behind and show her the ropes.” “I won’t be eating here tonight, Mrs. Miller. My mom already made dinner. See you later.” Before she could say anything, I blinked back my tears and ran across the lawn to my house. “But I made slow-roasted beef ribs tonight! Your favorite!” Mrs. Miller called out, sounding disappointed. “At least have a few bites!” But some invitations, once declined, can never be accepted again.

I wasn’t just being delusional. Victor and I grew up together. For as long as I could remember, Mrs. Miller had treated me like her own daughter. She used to hold me in her arms and brag to the neighbors: “Look at our Kate. Gorgeous, isn’t she? She’s ours. When she grows up, she’s going to marry Victor.” “And Victor absolutely adores her!” When I turned eighteen, boys at school started asking me out. When Mrs. Miller found out, she immediately wanted to set up an official engagement. Though my parents politely declined, saying we were too young, she went out and bought a delicate gold chain with a heart pendant. “It’s just a small token for now. I’ll get you a bigger, proper diamond later. Don’t feel pressured, just wear it for fun.” It was an expensive piece of jewelry, and I felt uncomfortable accepting it. I tried to hand it back. But Victor had smiled and gently clasped it around my neck. “It looks beautiful on you, Kate. Right?” Later, I bought Mrs. Miller a gift of equal value to make things even. But that moment had rooted itself deeply in my heart. Now, it felt like a cruel joke. I was the only one who had taken it seriously.

The next morning, I didn’t wait for Victor. I drove to the office early by myself. My coworkers were surprised to see me alone. “Where’s Victor? Don’t you guys always arrive together?” I stayed quiet, my eyes involuntarily drifting to Victor’s empty desk. Sarah, my coworker, gave me a knowing nudge. “Good for you. Men need to be kept on ice sometimes. You pamper him too much, so he takes you for granted.” She pointed chin behind me. “See? You ignore him for one morning, and he’s already begging for forgiveness with flowers.” I turned around. Victor was walking in, holding a bunch of red roses. My heart fluttered with a sudden hope. Despite how much his words had hurt me yesterday, if he was planning to apologize and confess… Maybe I could forgive him. But we would need to set boundaries. He had to stay away from Alice. Just then, the click-clack of high heels echoed. Alice walked in, smelling of expensive perfume. Seeing Victor, her face lit up. “Oh! You actually bought me the roses?” Victor turned to her, tilting his head with a proud grin. “Of course. I keep my promises.” “I got up an hour early just to drive to that specific florist you mentioned.” “I even ditched Kate for you. Now that I lost my usual pretty companion, shouldn’t you make it up to me?” His tone was greasy, loaded with heavy innuendo. Sarah, who was standing next to me, gasped. “Is he out of his mind??” I lowered my gaze. Alice took the roses. They walked right past my desk, shoulder to shoulder. Neither of them spared me a single glance. Sarah fell dead silent.

That evening, our department manager organized a team dinner at a steakhouse to welcome Alice. Everyone was laughing and ordering food. Alice came back from the drink station, holding a plastic cup of Coke. She navigated the carpeted stairs perfectly fine. But the moment she reached the flat carpet right in front of me, she suddenly “tripped.” The entire cup of sticky Coke splashed all over my sweater and jeans. Sarah, who witnessed the whole thing, stood up in anger. “You bitch! Nice stunt. Anyone with eyes can see you did that on purpose!” Alice straightened up, looking down at me with zero remorse. “Oh, my bad. Victor’s little Kate~” The mockery was practically dripping from her face. Sarah couldn’t take it. She grabbed Alice by the collar. “I cannot stand fake-ass bitches!” “You know you’re trying to slide into a relationship that isn’t yours, so why don’t you keep your hands off another girl’s man?” “Do you think your pathetic act actually works on everyone—” Before Sarah could finish, a hand violently shoved her aside. Victor wrapped his arms around Alice, shielding her. He glared at me. “Kate! Since when did you become such a bully?” I stared back at him. My stained, dripping clothes were right in front of his eyes. He chose to ignore it. The pain and confusion in my chest suddenly turned into a cold, dead calm. “Victor, are those two things on your face actually eyes, or just decorations?” Victor froze, staring at me in utter disbelief. In all the years we had known each other, I had never spoken to him like this. Even when he made me angry, I would usually hide in a corner and cry quietly. Then, I’d wait for him to feel guilty and buy me food to make up. But this time, I wasn’t going to wait. Alice clung to his chest, her voice trembling with fake tears. “It’s my fault… Kate didn’t trip me. I just lost my footing and spilled it on her.” “Don’t get mad at her because of me. It’s fine. It’s normal for Kate to be upset. I’ll just apologize.” She flipped the script effortlessly. “I know you two are going to get married eventually. It’s only right that you take her side. I don’t blame you.” “Why should you suffer like this?” Victor interrupted her, his eyes cold as ice as he looked at me. “There is no marriage. It was just a joke my mom made.” “Why would I ever marry a bitter, toxic girl like her?” He guided Alice toward the exit. Alice buried her face in his chest, her voice muffled but clear enough for the room to hear. “Well, your description of her was certainly accurate…” Bitter. Bitch. He had painted me as a monster to her. A cold shiver ran down my spine.

I went to the restroom and tried to scrub the sticky brown stain off my clothes with cold water. The freezing water against my skin felt like it was numbing my heart. When I got back, Alice was laughing, looking pristine and untouched. Victor sat right next to her. Looking around their table, it was Alice, Victor, and a bunch of male coworkers from various departments catering to her every whim. She was the queen bee, surrounded by guys pouring her drinks. Sarah scoffed from beside me. “Why do men always fall for this garbage? First my ex, now Victor.” I knew Sarah’s ex-husband had cheated on her with a girl who played the victim. Sarah had kicked them both out, and now they were struggling to pay rent. Honestly, she was a great role model. “He’s not my man,” I said, giving Sarah a brief hug, as if hugging my past goodbye. “He’s Alice’s now. They deserve each other.” Sarah looked shocked. “Years of history, Kate. Can you really just let go like that?” I sat down and picked up my fork. “Haven’t you heard of the sunk cost fallacy? You don’t let past investments ruin your future.” I couldn’t even blame Alice entirely. Victor was the real issue here. In a way, I should thank her. She showed me his true colors before it was too late.

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At the company team-building dinner, our CEO, Arthur Sterling, invited the core management team. As the Head of Tech, I arrived right on time, only to find there was no seat left for me. Chloe Ward, the Head of Sales, covered her mouth and smirked. “Oh, Elena. I’m so sorry. We thought you weren’t coming.” “After all, your department cost Arthur a fortune this year.” My heart went cold. I knew she was targeting me. I scoffed. “What is that supposed to mean, Chloe?” “Our product upgrade was highly praised by the market. On the other hand, Sales has been tanking.” “Are you trying to use the Tech Department as a scapegoat for your own missed targets?” Chloe’s face twisted with rage. She turned to Arthur. “Look at her, Arthur. This is the attitude of the Tech Department.” Our product was my shield. I looked at Arthur without fear. But Arthur only said: “Tech spent a lot of money this year. A punishment is indeed in order.” “Elena, for tonight’s dinner, you can stand and serve Chloe.” I let out a cold, disbelieving laugh. Humiliating me in public? Fine. If you want a circus, let’s burn the whole tent down.

A waiter quickly brought a set of disposable cutlery. Arthur gestured with his chin toward the space next to Chloe. “Elena, stand right there.” Chloe smirked, and the others at the table chuckled along. The Head of R&D even went so far as to slide his chair over, leaving a wider space for me to stand and wait on them. Rage surged to my head. “Mr. Sterling, every single penny the Tech Department requested this year went into product upgrades.” “Purchasing records, R&D logs, test reports—everything is documented and fully transparent.” “If you think that deserves punishment, then I have nothing to say.” “Oh, listen to Ms. Elena Lewis,” Chloe said lazily, using her fork to place a piece of sashimi into Arthur’s bowl. “As if your department is the only one working, and the rest of us are just freeloaders?” Her words actually triggered a memory. The Sales Department spent five million on a “service upgrade” this year. They burned through that cash without a second thought. And the result? A major account they had been chasing for six months fell through. Five million dollars down the drain, and third-quarter sales plummeted by thirty percent. I stared at her and sneered. “I don’t know about the other departments, but Sales has definitely been freeloading this year. You couldn’t even keep your loyal clients.” Chloe’s face turned pale instantly. “Elena! That five million was a strategic investment approved by Arthur himself. Are you questioning his decision?” Viper. She immediately deflected the blame onto Arthur. As expected, Arthur’s expression darkened. Just then, the waiter stood beside me with the cutlery. Arthur waved his hand, signaling the waiter to hand them to me. I didn’t take them. “Mr. Sterling, the value of the Tech Department is not measured by standing and serving food.” “If that’s what this company believes, then I’d rather skip this dinner.” I turned toward the exit. “Elena,” Arthur’s voice boomed behind me. “If you walk out that door tonight, don’t bother coming back to work tomorrow.” My footsteps froze. My daughter, Barbara, has congenital heart disease. She just had her second surgery last month. To pay for it, we sold our house and our car. Everyone in the upper management knew this. Arthur was bringing this up now because he knew he had me by the throat. But I couldn’t jeopardize Barbara’s treatment. Slowly, I turned back around and took the cutlery from the waiter. “Elena, I want some fish,” Chloe mocked, covering her mouth as she laughed. My grip on the fork tightened. I picked up a piece of fish and placed it on her plate. “Here you go, Chloe,” my voice sounded dry and hollow, barely recognizing it as my own. Chloe smiled smugly, picked up the fish, and put it in her mouth. Pfft! The next second, she spat the fish right into my face. The chewed-up meat hit my skin. The fishy stench rushed into my nose. In that instant, I felt the blood in my veins run cold, then boil. “Ugh! It’s overcooked and dry!” She pulled out a napkin to wipe her mouth, her eyes gleaming with malice. “Elena, your serving skills are just like your tech products—rough and useless.” The table erupted into laughter again. Arthur joined in. “Elena, did you hear that? You need to learn from Chloe.” “Tech is one thing, but interpersonal skills and service mindset need to keep up with the times.” “Don’t just stand there. See what Chloe needs. Have some initiative.” Spit and wet fish clung to my cheek, sliding down my skin. The buzzing laughter filled my ears. Tears welled in my eyes, but I bit my lip so hard, refusing to let them fall.

“Mr. Sterling, Chloe, I need to use the restroom.” I kept my eyes down, my voice barely a whisper. “Don’t leave yet, Elena,” Chloe grabbed my arm. “When clients throw up all over me after drinking too much, I don’t just walk away.” Someone chimed in, “Exactly, Elena. Frankly, you’re lucky Mr. Sterling values old loyalty, or he wouldn’t tolerate your attitude.” “With your communication skills, you wouldn’t even get a job as a janitor elsewhere.” “Elena, Mr. Sterling isn’t actually holding a grudge. You should pour him a drink and thank him for giving you this chance.” Before I could react, someone shoved a glass of vodka into my hand and pushed me forward. I stumbled two steps, landing right in front of Arthur at the head of the table. Arthur leaned back in his chair, looking at me with a greasy grin. “Elena,” he murmured, his fingers sliding over the back of my hand, giving it a suggestive squeeze. “I’ve always appreciated your skills. It’s just your temper…” This absolute bastard! I yanked my hand back, aimed at his oily face, and threw the vodka straight at him. “Ah! Arthur! Arthur, are you okay?” Chloe panicked, rushing over with napkins to wipe his face. Arthur grabbed Chloe’s hand and screamed at me, “Elena, if you don’t want to work here, get the hell out!” “Fine! Consider this my resignation!” With that, I turned and stormed out. Behind me, Chloe and Arthur’s furious curses echoed. Leaving the restaurant, I unlocked my old bicycle and rode toward the hospital. On the road, the tears I had held back all night finally poured down. Just before reaching the hospital, I wiped my face clean, forcing myself to look normal. I pushed open the door of the ward. Barbara was already asleep. My husband, Stuart, looked up when he heard the door. “You’re back…” His voice trailed off as his eyes locked onto my face. “Elena, what happened?” “Nothing,” I turned my head, avoiding his gaze. “Just had a drink, and someone spilled it on me.” Stuart was silent for a few seconds. He placed a warm hand on my shoulder. “Elena, don’t carry everything on your own.” “Barbara’s surgery is done. My company is finally making a profit. We’ll have a big payout next month.” “Don’t push yourself so hard, okay? You don’t have to carry the world.” My nose stung. I quickly looked down, whispering a soft, “Okay.” I barely slept that night. The next morning, I still went to the office. Even if I was leaving, I had to pack my things. Some of my research notes and personal files were too valuable to lose. The Tech Department was at the end of the hallway. When I reached my office door, I found it slightly ajar. I pushed it open, and my heart sank. My desk was completely bare. Not even a scrap of paper was left. Chloe was standing right in front of where my desk used to be. Hearing my footsteps, she turned around, a smug grin plastered on her face. “Oh, look who’s here! You’re quite early.” She picked up an envelope from the desk and tossed it at me. “Here. Your termination letter.” I stared at the envelope but didn’t touch it. “Where are my things?” Chloe smirked, her manicured finger pointing toward the trash can in the corner. My blood ran cold. Scattered around the trash bin were shattered pieces of glass. Those were my trophies and awards from the past few years. My professional textbooks and research notebooks were thrown into a messy pile next to them, covered in dirty footprints.

“You!” Rage erupted. I glared at Chloe. “What right do you have to touch my things? This is my personal property!” Chloe crossed her arms and scoffed. “Elena, do you still think you’re the Head of Tech?” “You’re just an ungrateful, fired washed-up woman.” “Your trash was taking up space. I did you a favor by cleaning it. No need to thank me.” Inhaling deeply, I walked over to the trash can and knelt down to pick up my notes and certificates. Suddenly, Chloe’s high heel kicked forward. Crash! Glass shards flew everywhere. I instinctively shielded my face with my arms, but I was too late. A sharp piece of glass sliced across my left cheek. “Ah!” I cried out in pain, covering my cheek. Warm blood immediately seeped through my fingers. A few of my former team members had gathered at the door. Seeing this, they tried to rush in. “Elena! Are you okay?” “Stop right there!” Chloe barked, glaring at the crowd. “Let’s see who dares to help her.” “The Tech Department is undergoing a restructuring. I haven’t submitted the layoff list to Arthur yet.” “If anyone wants to pack their bags with this fired loser, step right up!” Her threat worked like a bucket of ice water. The employees froze at the door. Only Hathaway, a girl I had personally mentored from her internship days, broke through and ran to help me up. “Elena, oh my god, you’re bleeding. Come on, I’m taking you to the ER.” Chloe’s face turned green. She pointed at Hathaway. “You’re fired too! Get out of my sight!” Hathaway helped me stand up and glared at Chloe. “Gladly. Let’s go, Elena.” At the hospital, Hathaway was still shaking with rage. “Hathaway, I’m so sorry. I dragged you into this,” I said, my voice hoarse. “Don’t say that,” Hathaway shook her head quickly. “It’s not your fault at all.” “Management and Chloe have been treating us like garbage.” “We work ourselves to the bone for the product, and they just say we’re burning cash. Our salary is a joke, and Arthur even cut our bonuses. Who would want to work for that jerk anyway?” “So, what’s your plan now?” “I… I don’t know,” she muttered, rubbing her hands nervously. I suddenly thought of Stuart’s profitable company. I took out my phone and dialed his number. “Stuart, does your company need people? Product development. I have a brilliant colleague…” “Yes!” Stuart answered without a second of hesitation. “I’ve been waiting for you to say that.” “My company is where you belong, Elena.” “Bring your people over. I’ll match whatever you want!” Hathaway’s eyes lit up. The very next day, she joined Stuart’s company with me. We quickly formed a new team and began developing a direct competitor product targeting Arthur’s core market. A few days later, Hathaway whispered to me: “Elena, some of our old colleagues from Tech reached out. They want to know if we’re hiring.” “Chloe pushed Arthur to lay off more people, and a bunch of them got sacked. They’re looking for jobs.” After a moment’s thought, I nodded. “Tell them to come.” Soon, a familiar yet completely revitalized team was assembled. Our goal was crystal clear: build a superior product and crush Arthur’s business. By the end of the year, the contract for the “Smart Community” project was up for bidding. This was the crown jewel Arthur’s company was desperate to secure, and it was our primary target. On the day the results were announced, we won. This meant Arthur’s company lost at least ten million dollars in projected revenue. That night, Arthur posted a bitter, passive-aggressive message on LinkedIn, hinting that “disloyal employees stole trade secrets to engage in malicious competition.” Chloe was more direct. She shared the news article on Twitter with the caption: “Some people will do anything for money. Stealing Arthur’s project and poaching his team. Aren’t you afraid of karma?” I smiled and put my phone down. On Friday, I took my team out to celebrate. The atmosphere was amazing. Everyone was raising their glasses. Suddenly, my phone rang. It was an unknown number. I declined it. The next second, the door of our private dining room was pushed open. Two uniformed police officers walked in, their eyes locking onto me. “Elena Lewis? We received a formal complaint.” “You are suspected of stealing proprietary technical secrets before leaving your former employer.” “Please come with us to the station to assist with the investigation.” The room fell dead silent. All glasses froze in mid-air. Hathaway was the first to react. “Officers, that’s impossible!”

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“Is Julian checking up on you again?” My friend Howard and I married the Franklin sisters. We’ve been married for five years now, and each of us has a beautiful little daughter. I married Georgina, the older sister who runs the local pharmacy across the street from our townhouse complex. Howard married Vivian, the younger sister who works as a tattoo artist. I’ve had chronic stomach issues for years and take daily medication. But this time, right after swallowing my pills, a violent wave of nausea hit me. I spat out a mouthful of dark, blackish-red blood. Georgina’s pharmacy was right across the street. She had medical training, so clutching my burning stomach, I frantically called her for help. She declined my calls six times before finally picking up. When she did, her irritated voice blasted through the receiver. “Didn’t you just get your meds from my shop last week? If your stomach hurts, take your pills! What do you want me to do about it?” “Koman just came over to bring me lunch, and his hand got scratched by an unsterilized needle. I need to give him emergency treatment right now!” “If he gets an infection from this, he’ll have to go through absolute hell with heavy antibiotics!” I felt a violent squeeze in my stomach and threw up mouthful after mouthful of blood. On the brink of death, Howard, who had just picked up the girls from preschool, found me and saved my life. On the way to the ER, he called Vivian, telling her to rush home and look after our young daughters. But Vivian just screamed at him over the phone: “Do you have any idea how busy I am? I work late almost every night, and you’re constantly harassing me with these stupid phone calls!” “Koman’s wound needs to be treated immediately! I don’t have time to waste on your childish drama!” Left completely unattended at home, our young daughters wandered out of the house to look for us. But I was fighting for my life in the ICU. By the time we realized what had happened, both of our girls had gone missing. Howard and I were completely done. No matter what, we were getting a divorce!

I was rushed into emergency gastric lavage. When I finally woke up, every single organ in my body felt like it was on fire. The doctor determined it was acute food poisoning. If I had arrived even five minutes later, they wouldn’t have been able to save me. After literally staring death in the face, I had no lingering attachments left. I called Georgina to tell her I wanted a divorce. But she didn’t seem to care at all. “You always threaten me with divorce to get your way. Do you have any spine left? Grow some balls and act like a man!” “I already told you I’m busy! Why do you always have to make a scene and ruin my day?!” “I still need to pick up the lab results for Koman’s needle scratch, and I have to change his dressing to make sure it doesn’t get inflamed.” Just as she finished speaking, I heard Vivian’s worried voice in the background: “Georgina, the scratch on his hand still looks pretty red. Why isn’t the anti-inflammatory ointment from your shop working? Should we take him to the hospital for a full-body check-up later?” Georgina immediately panicked. “Is it really that bad? I’ll close the pharmacy early. Let’s take him to the hospital together!” Koman’s chuckle came through the line: “Georgina, it’s really not that serious. You’re basically a doctor, why are you overreacting? It’s only been a day, of course it hasn’t fully healed yet.” I had been in a coma in the hospital for two days, and she had spent the entire time babysitting Koman over a tiny scratch! My near-death food poisoning meant absolutely nothing compared to a faint red mark on Koman’s hand! Before I could speak, Georgina spoke to him in a sweet, cooing voice: “How is it not serious? It’s all my fault. I should have cleared out those old needles sooner. You were sweet enough to bring me lunch, and I let you get hurt.” “Alright, Vivian, I handle dressings for patients all the time. I’m the professional here, so let me do it. Let me take care of him this time as my apology.” But the moment she spoke to me again, her voice instantly turned cold and filled with disgust. “I don’t have time for your childish tantrums. And let me warn you, stop using divorce to threaten me.” “It only makes me despise you even more!” “Koman got hurt because of me, so of course I have to take care of him. I’m not heartless like you!” “Besides, Koman is a perfect gentleman. He has never crossed any boundaries with me. I won’t let you insult him! If you keep letting your jealousy get the better of you, I won’t let you off easy!” Koman’s helpless voice drifted over: “Is Julian checking up on you again? Maybe I should talk to him personally and explain.” Georgina simply snapped, “He doesn’t deserve an explanation,” and hung up. My body hadn’t recovered yet, and my stomach began to throb with intense pain again. I never could have imagined that after being married to Georgina for so long, and even having a beautiful daughter together, she could still be this heartless. When I took my stomach medicine that day, my stomach churned, and I started throwing up black blood. Georgina used to be a nurse. When she got tired of working night shifts, I emptied my entire savings account to help her open that pharmacy. Her pharmacy was right across the street. If she had come to take me to the hospital, she would have been much faster than an ambulance. And with her medical background, she could have performed basic first aid to keep me stable! But what did she do? She was so lost in the sweet romance of Koman bringing her lunch that she completely forgot she was a married woman and a mother! And because Koman scratched his hand, she abandoned me entirely! If she had listened to me for just one second on the phone, she would have known I was dying! But I heard it clearly on the phone—even though Koman kept saying he was fine, she insisted: “How are you fine?” “My place is a pharmacy. Who knows what kind of sick people bring in biohazards and viruses here every day? What if a virus gets into your bloodstream through that cut? What will happen to your hand then?” “You’ll have to go through so much pain to treat it later!” She pampered and coddled Koman over a scratch. Meanwhile, I was writhing on the cold floor in agonizing pain, losing the strength to even dial 911. The blood I threw up covered my face, and my breathing grew shallow. Thank God Howard, who lived right across from us, remembered my chronic stomach issues. He picked up our daughters and came to check on me first. Seeing me in critical condition, he immediately rushed me to the hospital. I took a few deep, painful breaths, barely regaining my focus. I wanted to call Howard to ask about our daughters. But before I could, Vivian did something rare—she called me first.

I didn’t talk to Vivian much. But judging by her behavior lately, she was just as toxic as her sister Georgina. Still, I answered. The next second, her shrill, irritated voice exploded in my ear. “Did you and Howard plan this? What kind of pathetic, childish game are you guys playing now?” “He claimed you were on your deathbed in the ER, yet here you are, fully energized enough to call Georgina and pick a fight. You’re completely fine, aren’t you?” “Playing these petty, jealous games all day… aren’t you guys embarrassed?” My voice was raspy as I replied, “I have no reason to lie to you. I was poisoned. I was…” Vivian cut me off, her tone turning even more hostile and impatient. “Do you think I’m an idiot?! You and Howard spend all your time plotting in the dark. Neither of you is a real man!” “Koman is three years younger than you, yet he’s twice the man you’ll ever be!” “How many times do we have to tell you? Koman is like a little brother to us! Are you deaf?” “I’m warning you, stop playing these mind games with Howard. Georgina and I are running out of patience. If you keep acting up, we will actually divorce you!” “Also, tell Howard to answer his phone and bring our daughter back!” “He called me this morning claiming you were in a coma and the girls went missing so he needed my help to find them.” “I know he did it on purpose! Don’t use my daughter’s life to threaten me. I’m not falling for it!” She slammed the phone down after her rant. Her words sounded more like a threat to Howard and me than anything else. But I didn’t have time to process her insults. She said the girls were missing. I had to find out the truth right now! I quickly called Howard, and he picked up immediately. I blurted out, “Where are Anna and Maria?!” The next second, he spoke the words that plunged me into absolute terror. “When I rushed you to the hospital, they were left alone and ran out. I checked the security cameras. They disappeared at the street corner.” I suddenly wished he hadn’t saved me. If he hadn’t, my daughter Anna and his daughter Maria wouldn’t have gone missing! I would rather have died on that floor than let anything happen to them! My blood ran cold. I pounded my chest in pure agony, my body shaking violently. Ignoring my weak physical state, I ripped the IV needle out of my arm and ran out of the hospital in my gown. I had to find them! The longer they were gone, the more danger they were in! I remembered Georgina had a local community Snapchat group. Most of the residents in our neighborhood were in it to order medicine easily. I could ask her to send a mass message to see if anyone had seen the girls. But no matter how many times I called her, she kept declining. I had no choice but to text her: [Anna is really missing! Can you please ask the neighborhood group chat if anyone saw her yesterday?] She didn’t reply. I was so frantic I wanted to crawl to her and beg on my knees. I wanted to beg her to stop being so heartless and just help me find Anna! [I am not lying to you!] But this time, my message bounced back with a red exclamation mark. She had blocked me. I was completely cut off from her. A bitter taste filled my mouth as I stumbled down the street to search on my own. I could accept that she didn’t love me anymore. I could accept that she had checked out of our marriage. But I never imagined that even the daughter she carried for nine months meant absolutely nothing to her compared to an outsider!

Howard and I searched the streets all day and night, but we found nothing. The police were also investigating, but there was still no trace of our daughters. Exhausted and broken, Howard and I sat on the curb. Hating myself, I raised my hand and slapped myself twice across the face. “It’s my fault! If I hadn’t gone to the hospital, they wouldn’t have gone missing!” Tears streamed down my face. Howard grabbed my wrists to stop me from hurting myself. In the end, it was the police officer who gave us a lead. He suggested that since social media was so powerful, we should post the girls’ pictures online and ask the community for help. But the moment I pulled out my phone, I saw an Instagram notification. It was a post Koman had uploaded just an hour ago. There were two photos. One was of Georgina kneeling in front of him, looking up at him with deep concern as she applied ointment to his scratch. The scratch was practically healed! The other photo was of Vivian smiling warmly as she peeled shrimp and fed it directly into his mouth. The caption read: [No matter how old I get, I’ll always be a baby to my favorite big sisters. A tiny scratch gets me this much love. Who wouldn’t love sisters like these? ] His tone was incredibly suggestive. Did he really just view Georgina and Vivian as “sisters”? My fingers trembled as I scrolled down to read the comments. [You’re so lucky to have two gorgeous, hot sisters! You’re living the dream, bro!] [Looking at how they take care of you, I bet they are way more than just ‘sisters’…] [Why choose? With two hot babes like that, I’d gladly die of exhaustion to have them both!] People were leaving incredibly vulgar comments about Georgina and Vivian, yet they didn’t care. They even replied to the comments, writing that “love is a two-way street” and praising how well Koman treated them. I recalled how Georgina flinched and looked disgusted whenever I tried to hold her hand at home. Talk about a double standard. Before I could read any further, Howard snatched the phone from my hand. “We are getting a divorce anyway. Why do you care what they do? They aren’t worth your tears!” “By the way, when I went back to your place yesterday, I saved the medicine you took. I’m going to take it to a lab to get it tested when I have time.” “I have a bad feeling about this. This was definitely not normal food poisoning!” He was right. I had stomach issues and had been taking those pills for years without any problems. Why did I suddenly collapse this time? I even threw up black blood! But if someone was actively trying to hurt me, then the girls’ sudden disappearance… I didn’t dare to think about it. Forcing myself to stay calm, I posted missing person flyers on every social media account I owned. Howard and I were sick with anxiety, but we had run out of options. Every minute that passed felt like a knife twisting in my chest. Since Georgina and I had mutual friends, some of them saw my posts and contacted her. Perhaps to save face, she actually called me. But the moment I answered, her sharp, accusatory voice filled my ear: “What the hell are you playing at now?! You saw that I blocked you, so you decided to make a massive scene online?” “Are you using these pathetic, cheap tricks just to get my attention?!” “How many times do I have to tell you? Koman’s hand is still healing. He can’t get it wet, so I have to stay at his place to take care of him!” “Delete those posts right now! Do you want the whole neighborhood laughing at us?” “You’re not a real man!” I could picture her face perfectly. The woman who was once gentle and polite must have a distorted, ugly expression right now, rolling her eyes at me. But none of that mattered anymore. “I’ve told you a thousand times, I am looking for our missing daughters, Anna and Maria!” “And I don’t care when you come home, or what kind of sick relationship you have with your precious Koman. I just want to finalize our divorce as soon as possible!” She screamed into the phone: “Divorce, divorce, always divorce! Is that the only threat you know?!” “It’s getting pathetic! I’m sick of hearing it!” “Koman actually brings me lunch when I’m busy. What do you do?” “A grown man whining and crying all day. You make me sick!” I realized that once your heart completely dies, you can remain perfectly calm even when speaking to the person you once loved the most. “I am serious. I want a divorce.” I hung up immediately. I didn’t want to waste another second talking to her. But to my surprise, she showed up at my door the very next day.

She was wearing a low-cut top, exposing a fresh tattoo on her chest covered in a clear plastic wrap. It was the silhouette of a man—Koman—spanning across half her chest. This was a woman who used to cry for hours over a tiny hot water burn. Yet now, she had endured hours of needles just to carve Koman’s face permanently onto her skin. She didn’t see anything wrong with tattooing another man’s face on her body. She had even worn a low-cut shirt specifically to show it off to me. She stormed in, screaming, “How dare you ignore my calls! Why haven’t you deleted those posts yet?!” “You might not care about your reputation, but I care about mine! Do you have any idea how much this is affecting my pharmacy?!” “The customers today were all gossiping about it! Some of them only came in to nose around!” I took two steps back. Howard walked out of the guest room. “You’ve lost your mind.” Just then, Vivian stormed in from across the hall. “I knew you’d be here! Delete those damn posts right now!” “How could Anna and Maria go missing? They’re probably playing a prank!” “I lost half my clients today! Some of my biggest VIP appointments were canceled because of this! Do you know how much money I lost?!” “Your petty tantrums have to stop! You guys are more dramatic than schoolgirls. It’s disgusting!” She, too, had a new tattoo. It covered her entire thigh. Looking at these sisters, I only felt disgust. Their faces looked incredibly ugly and repulsive. Noticing my gaze, Georgina defensively snapped: “We got these tattoos because Koman got hurt, and we felt responsible for it!” “We couldn’t bear to let him suffer alone, so we did this to share his pain!” I clenched my teeth and nodded. “To share his pain? Then why didn’t you just cut off a piece of your own flesh? Why did you have to tattoo his face on your bodies?” “You two are the most pathetic, desperate women on earth, throwing yourselves at a boy.” My words completely exposed her. Her face flushed with embarrassment, and she quickly tried to deflect. “You’re always so petty. I don’t want to fight with you. Just delete those posts.” “Otherwise, I’ll call the cops on you for spreading rumors and defamation!” But sometimes, life is full of coincidences. Just as she said that, there was a knock on the door, and a police officer walked in. The officer knew Howard and me, and he knew we were on the verge of a breakdown trying to find our daughters. He looked at us and said, “We have a major lead on your daughters’ disappearance!” Howard and I felt our eyes well up. We were close to tears. An officer in uniform would never lie about something this serious. Georgina froze for a moment before gasping, “What? Anna… Anna and Maria are really missing?!”

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After three long years of agony, I finally got the call. A perfect kidney match was available. But a few moments later, my primary doctor, Dr. Evans, walked into my hospital room with a conflicted look on his face. My parents followed closely behind him. “Sophie, I am so sorry,” Dr. Evans said. ” After a comprehensive evaluation, the hospital board has decided to prioritize your sister, Chloe, for this transplant.” I froze. “Why?” “Dr. Evans, I’m the one with stage 5 kidney failure. Chloe only has mild chronic kidney inflammation.” My mother, Eleanor, avoided my gaze, but her voice was as uncompromising as ever. “Chloe is still young, Sophie. She’s not even married yet. We can’t let her life be ruined by chronic illness.” “Besides, you’ve always been resilient. You can wait a little longer. Another match will turn up.” “She’s right,” my father, Richard, chimed in from the side. “You’ve always been stronger than Chloe since you were kids. You can get through this little setback. We just can’t bear to watch Chloe suffer.”

‘You’ve always been stronger than Chloe.’ That sentence was like a curse that haunted my entire childhood. Because I was “strong,” I was sent to live with Grandma in a tiny, sleepy town in Maine when I was only three, while Richard and Eleanor took Chloe—who is just a year younger than me—to enjoy a luxurious life in Boston. Because I was “strong,” every time Chloe caused trouble, I was the one who got screamed at. Because I was “strong,” every good thing in the house rightfully belonged to Chloe, and I was left with her scraps. And now, even the kidney meant to save my life had to be given up because I was “strong.” I looked at the sheer entitlement on their faces. Decades of suffocating grievances and resentment surged in my chest, making it hard to breathe. By the time my husband, Thomas, rushed into the room, he found me trembling, my eyes completely hollow. Heartbroken, he wrapped his arms tightly around me and glared at my parents. “How could you do this? This is Sophie’s life we’re talking about!” Eleanor rolled her eyes, completely unfazed. “Oh, cut the drama, Thomas. We’re family. Sophie wants Chloe to get better too.” “Anyway, we have to go take care of Chloe now. Talk some sense into her. Tell her not to be so selfish.” With that, they turned and walked out without looking back, as if they had just settled some trivial chore. That night, Chloe updated her Instagram. “A fresh start at life! Thank you to the best parents in the world.” “Your love created a miracle for me. I can finally embrace a healthy future again!” The post featured a photo of her in a luxury private suite. Eleanor and Richard were on either side of her bed, their faces glowing with a kind of happiness I had never once received. My parents quickly reposted it with the caption: “Our little princess is finally recovering. Nothing matters more than keeping our family whole.” ‘Family.’ It turned out that in their hearts, I was never part of that “family.” Cold tears streamed down my cheeks. Clinging to Thomas, the tears I had held back for years finally spilled over. “Thomas… it hurts so much.” Thomas held me tighter, his voice cracked but firm. “Don’t be afraid, Sophie. I’m here. We don’t need them. We’ll find a way on our own.” Looking into his bloodshot eyes, a certain realization became clearer than ever before.

Without hope, the agony of dialysis was magnified a thousand times. Every time my blood circulated through that cold machine, I felt my life slipping away bit by bit. But the final straw that broke me was my parents’ next visit. They didn’t come to comfort me. They came to take. “Sophie, Chloe’s post-op recovery is costing a fortune,” Eleanor said, getting straight to the point. Her tone left no room for negotiation. “The supplements, the private nursing, the physical therapy—she needs the absolute best.” “We need you to give us your savings so we can cover Chloe’s bills.” That money was what Thomas and I had painstakingly saved since our wedding. It was our absolute last hope, the money we intended to use to seek medical help abroad. “No,” I squeezed the word out of my throat. “That is my life-saving money.” Richard’s face darkened instantly. He barked, “Sophie, how can you be so incredibly selfish?” “We raised you! What’s wrong with helping your sister out now?” “She is your flesh and blood! Once she’s fully recovered, we’ll have the time and energy to worry about you!” “Worry about me?” I felt like I had just heard the most ridiculous joke. I burst into a fit of laughter, though tears kept streaming down my face. “When have you ever worried about me? Where were you when I had a fever so high it almost turned into severe pneumonia?” “Where were you when I was being bullied at school? Now you’ve stolen my kidney, and you want to rob me of my last chance to survive?” Furious at my confrontation, Richard stepped forward, trying to grab my phone to force a PayPal transfer. Thomas immediately shielded me, blocking Richard. “Step back! Show some respect!” Thomas growled. The room fell into utter chaos. Eleanor was screaming at the top of her lungs, throwing the most disgusting insults at me. Richard shoved Thomas hard. In the scuffle, I was knocked aside by a brutal force. My frail body crashed heavily onto the hard floor. A sharp, agonizing pain erupted in my abdomen. Seeing me fall, they froze for a split second. But then Eleanor said coldly, “Stop acting, Sophie. A tiny bump doesn’t hurt that much.” Realizing they had crossed a line, they cursed under their breath and hurried out of the room like I was some kind of plague. Lying on the freezing floor, I felt the very last ounce of warmth in my body drain completely. This so-called family was a joke. And I was the punchline. It was time to wake up.

The physical pain was nothing compared to the agony in my heart. After the fall, my condition worsened, and Dr. Evans ordered absolute bed rest. Thomas stayed by my side every single second, his eyes brimming with worry and rage. I stopped him when he wanted to go confront them. I just shook my head wearily. It was pointless. There was no arguing with people who didn’t care if you lived or died. Just then, my phone rang. It was Chloe. The moment I picked up, her weak, tearful voice came through the speaker. “Sophie… I’m so sorry… I didn’t mean to take your kidney…” “But my recovery isn’t going well. The doctors say my emotions are too unstable…” “Mom and Dad said it’s all because of you. Can you please stop making them angry? I’m so scared… I’m scared my body will reject the kidney…” Her pathetic, theatrical act only sounded incredibly repulsive to me now. She was always like this. She would play the victim, stir up trouble, and then hide behind our parents while they fought her battles and handed her the spoils. In the past, I might have argued. I might have been angry. I might have cried. But now, I was just tired. “Chloe,” my voice was flat, devoid of any emotion. “You’ve already taken everything you wanted. From now on, never call me again.” With that, I hung up. I knew a bigger storm was coming. Sure enough, thirty minutes later, Eleanor and Richard kicked my hospital room door open. “Sophie! What did you say to Chloe!” Eleanor’s finger was practically poking my nose. “She just had surgery! Her vitals are unstable now because of you! She almost had to go back into the ICU!” “Do you want her dead? Is that it?” “How did we raise such a wicked daughter!” Richard roared. “You are going to apologize to Chloe right now!” “And then, you will sign a document stating that your savings are a voluntary gift to her, so she can recover in peace!” “Otherwise, we will sue you for intentional distress and physical harassment!” They yelled in perfect harmony, their vicious words sounding like they wanted to tear me apart. Looking at these two monstrous “parents,” the final thread of family affection snapped. Snap. “Fine,” I whispered. To their shock, I reached under my pillow and pulled out a document. I had asked Thomas to prepare this beforehand. “I can write the statement. I can even give her the money,” I said, handing the paper to them. Every word was crystal clear. “But first, you sign this.” They stared at the paper. It was a Legal Severance and Liability Waiver Agreement. Eleanor let out a sharp laugh. “A severance agreement? Sophie, do you really think you can survive without us? Who are you trying to threaten?” They thought it was just another one of my pathetic tantrums. Without a second thought, they scribbled their names on the document and threw it back in my face like trash. “Done! Now get your ass over to Chloe’s room and apologize!” I picked up the signed agreement, folded it carefully, and handed it to Thomas. Then, with his help, I got into a wheelchair. Just as my parents thought I was going to crawl to Chloe’s room, my phone rang. Thomas answered it and put it on speaker. A calm, professional male voice came through: “Mr. Thomas, the medical transport jet for Mrs. Sophie is ready at the airport.” “The specialized transplant clinic we contacted in Germany has everything set up. We have a perfect kidney match waiting. When can you depart?” The room fell into a dead, suffocating silence. The smug, contemptuous looks on my parents’ faces froze, replaced by pure shock and disbelief. Meeting their horrified eyes, I let out a genuine, beautiful smile—one I hadn’t made in years. Thomas pushed my wheelchair, turning away from them, away from Chloe’s room, and toward a real future. Behind us, we left two signed papers, and two thoroughly discarded “parents.”

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### To save up for our wedding and the down payment on our future house, I started driving for Uber after my day job. I kept it a secret from my boyfriend, wanting to surprise him. But when I picked up my last passengers tonight, I froze. In the rearview mirror, my boyfriend of five years was getting into the backseat, his arm wrapped tightly around a young girl. He looked up, met my eyes, and instantly stiffened. He couldn’t say a single word. The destination for this ride was a luxury hotel downtown. Yet, just an hour ago, he had sent me a Snapchat saying he had to work overtime tonight and would be sleeping in the company dorms. As I started the engine, the girl suddenly leaned forward. Her voice was bubbling with a happiness she couldn’t hide. “Hi, driver. Could you please drive a bit more smoothly? I’m pregnant. Thank you so much!” I nodded numbly, my mind going completely blank. I stared at him through the rearview mirror for a long time. He kept his head lowered, refusing to make eye contact or say a word. The girl nudged him. “Babe, do you know her?” “No,” I answered before he could. In the rearview mirror, I saw him let out a visible sigh of relief, though he still didn’t dare to look up. I was already regretting taking this ride. The girl looked very young. Her hair was tied back in a low ponytail, and her makeup-free face had that natural glow unique to pregnant women. She leaned against him, her hand resting naturally on his thigh. The GPS instructed me to take a right turn ahead, and I flicked on the blinker. The silence in the car was suffocating. The girl, probably feeling bored, started scrolling through her phone’s camera roll, occasionally holding it up to show him. “Look, babe. This is the ultrasound I took last week. The doctor said we can already hear the heartbeat.” He muttered a weak “Yeah.” I kept my eyes on him through the mirror. He kept his head down, trying his best to shrink into the seat. Five years of love and devotion suddenly felt so cheap, completely outweighed by the unborn life in the backseat. “How long have you two been married?” The words left my mouth before I could stop myself. The girl blinked in surprise, then smiled warmly. “We just got married at City Hall last month. No big ceremony yet, just a small dinner with family.” She sighed, a hint of regret in her voice. “My husband is always so busy with work. We’ve been long-distance—he works here in the city, and I lived back in our hometown upstate. He finally got some time off, so I rushed over to visit him.” Long-distance. My throat tightened. His hometown was a four-hour drive away. Over the past few months, he had told me countless times that he had to go back home to handle family emergencies. I had never once doubted him. “Driver, your ring is really pretty,” the girl suddenly said, leaning closer and pointing at my left hand. I looked down at the small diamond ring on my ring finger. He had proposed to me with it last Valentine’s Day. I used to be too afraid to wear it, worried I’d scratch it. But he had insisted, saying a wedding ring was meant to be worn every day. That was when I started wearing it constantly. He had bought this ring with his very first project bonus. He told me that although it wasn’t big, he would definitely upgrade it to a massive one once he saved enough money. My mom had insisted on a solid financial foundation—a decent wedding budget and a down payment on a house. She said it was about his attitude and security for my future. To relieve the pressure on him, I drove Uber late into the night and took on freelance video editing gigs on weekends. I managed to save an extra seven hundred dollars every month. We had planned to get married at the end of this year. “It looks so much like mine,” she said, waving her left hand. “See? It’s the same simple design. My husband picked it. He said classics never go out of style.” In the rearview mirror, his head sank even lower. “What a coincidence,” I replied. “You’re already wearing the ring,” she said with a smile. “When is the big day?” I paused for a second, then spoke clearly. “We broke up.” “I just forgot to take the ring off.” ###

The girl’s smile froze on her face. She looked at me, then at herself in the mirror, probably imagining some tragic love story. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know…” “It’s fine.” She leaned back into her seat. After a few seconds of silence, she couldn’t help but whisper, “It’s okay. You’ll find someone better. My older sister was with someone for years before they broke up. Now she’s married to an amazing guy.” I nodded. The man in the backseat remained silent, not uttering a single word from beginning to end. Finally, the car pulled up in front of the most luxurious hotel downtown. The neon sign flashed brightly in the night. Once the car stopped, the girl got out and wrapped her arm around his. Together, they walked into the hotel lobby. She looked up to talk to him, and he nodded, never once turning back to look at my car. I sat in my car for a long time. I turned off the AC and rolled down the window. The cool night breeze rushed in, making my eyes sting. The security guard walked over and tapped on my window, telling me I couldn’t park here for long. I told him I was leaving right away. I started the engine, but I had no idea where to drive. I looked down at the ring on my finger. They got married last month. Which meant, while I was driving Uber to save money, while I was staying up late editing videos to make extra cash, and while my heart was bursting with anticipation for our wedding at the end of the year… he had already signed the papers with someone else. He was already another woman’s husband. He was already going to be a father. And I was still working myself to the bone to ease his financial burden. I pulled over to the curb, pulled out my phone, and opened our Snapchat chat. The last message was from him at 6:23 PM: *Working late tonight. It’s going to be too late, so I’ll just crash in the company dorms. Go to bed early, babe.* I typed a few words, deleted them, typed again, and deleted them again. In the end, I only sent three words: *Let’s break up.* Sent. I slipped the ring off my finger and placed it on the center console. The top of the screen immediately showed “Ethan is typing…” I waited for a long time. The status kept flickering, but no message ever came through. I put the car in drive, ready to leave. Just as I shifted gears, a familiar figure appeared in my rearview mirror. He was running toward my car from the hotel lobby, panting heavily as he slapped his hand against my window. “Open the door! Let me explain!” His forehead was drenched in sweat, and his hair was a messy nest from the wind. I had never seen him look so pathetic. “Open the door!” he pleaded, tapping again. I unlocked the passenger side. He pulled the door open and climbed in, breathing heavily. The scent of the hotel lobby’s expensive cologne clung to him. “How did you…” “We’re done,” I cut him off. “You saw the message, right?” He froze, his lips trembling. It took him forever to say, “It’s not what you think.” “Then what is it?” “I…” He wiped his face in frustration. “She was just an accident.” ###

I looked at him, waiting to see what kind of lie he would spin next. “A few months ago, I went back to my hometown. I got too drunk… and I mistook her for you,” he explained frantically, his words spilling out of him. “It was just that one time. Who knew she would get pregnant? Her parents showed up at my family’s house, threatening to make a scene at my office if I didn’t take responsibility. I had no choice, Chloe. I really had no choice.” I stared at him. A few months ago. He did go back to his hometown, claiming his mother was sick. During that time, he kept saying how busy he was at work. He rarely came home, and whenever I called, he would hang up after just a few hurried words. “You got married last month.” “You went back home to get married, and then you told me you were traveling for a business trip.” He fell silent. “Did your parents know?” He nodded slowly. “So your entire family kept this from me.” “It wasn’t like that. I just… I didn’t know how to tell you.” He grabbed my hand. His palm was slick with cold sweat. “I really love you, Chloe. Can’t you feel it after five years? She was just a mistake. Once the baby is born, we’ll get a divorce. Just wait for me, okay?” I looked at him, feeling a chill run down my spine. “You want me to wait for you?” “Just one year. Two years at most. Once she gives birth, we’ll get divorced.” “And then?” “And then we’ll get married!” he said eagerly. “We’ll have the wedding exactly as planned. I’ll pay for everything, and we’ll get the house. We have five years of history, Chloe. Can you really throw all of that away?” I yanked my hand out of his grip. “On the day of your wedding, I was out driving Uber to save up for our future.” He froze. “I drove for three to four hours every single night. I took on freelance editing gigs on weekends just to save an extra few hundred dollars. I thought you were working hard, sleeping in a cramped company dorm, but you were actually cuddling with your pregnant wife.” “Chloe…” “And now you’re asking me to wait? To wait for your divorce, wait for you to sort out your child, and then come back to marry me?” I didn’t wait for his answer. I reached over and pushed open the passenger door. “Get out.” “Chloe, let me finish.” “Finish what? Tell me more about when you got married? How you managed to lie to my face? Or how your parents helped you cover it up?” I looked at him, my voice deadly calm. “Actually, you reminded me of something. Your parents knew. So from the very beginning, your family never saw me as one of their own.” “Chloe, my mom really likes you.” “Likes me? Is that why she let you get married behind my back? Is that why she expects me to be your secret little option on the side?” He had no answer. “Get out.” “Chloe…” “Get out!” He sat there, stubborn and unmoving. I got out of the car, walked around to the passenger side, and yanked the door wide open. “Get out of my car!” Only then did he slide out, standing by the curb, looking at me helplessly. “Chloe, we’ve been together for five years. Our parents have met. How can you be so heartless to just end it like this?” ###

I didn’t answer. I got back in, slammed the door shut, and started the engine. He tapped frantically on the glass from the outside, his mouth moving, but I couldn’t hear a word over the engine’s roar. In the rearview mirror, he chased the car for a few steps before being swallowed by the darkness of the night. When I got back to my apartment, I stood at the door for a long time, unable to bring myself to go in. A sliver of warm light peeked through the crack under the door—the living room light I had forgotten to turn off before leaving. I pushed the door open. His slippers were sitting in the entryway. Black ones, bought on a “buy one, get one free” sale. Mine were pink. His suit, which he had picked up from the dry cleaners last week, was hanging on the coat rack. He had told me he needed it for an important meeting tomorrow. On the coffee table sat his half-finished can of soda, right next to his gaming controller. His favorite grey blanket was draped over the sofa. He always said it was the coziest thing to wrap himself in while watching TV. On the nightstand in the bedroom lay his pack of cigarettes, his lighter, and a mystery novel he was halfway through. His presence was everywhere. I sat on the sofa, staring at the floor lamp. He had picked out that lampshade, saying the warm yellow glow made the place feel like a real home. My phone buzzed. It was a Snapchat from him: *She’s leaving tomorrow. Once she’s gone, I’ll come over so we can talk this through.* I stared at it for a long time. Then, I clicked on his profile and hit block. The chat history vanished. Five years of “good morning” and “good night,” five years of “I love you” and “I miss you,” five years of daily banter—all gone in an instant. I began to pack. His clothes, his books, his video games, his skincare products, his toothbrush, his towels. I shoved everything into two large suitcases. By the time I was finished, it was 3:00 AM, and the apartment felt half-empty. The floor lamp was still glowing. Staring at the pattern on the lampshade, I remembered the day we went to the home decor store. He had told me that when we finally bought our own house, he would put tons of lamps in the living room so we could adjust the brightness at night. I had smiled and said yes, because I loved warm light. I stood up and switched the lamp off. The room plunged into darkness, lit only by the faint glow of the streetlights filtering through the window. The next day at noon, a loud pounding on the door woke me up. I didn’t even know what time I had finally fallen asleep. My phone had died and shut down overnight. The pounding started again, louder and more urgent this time. I looked through the peephole. It was him. He was holding a bouquet of red roses wrapped in cheap, tacky paper. I decided to ignore him and turned to walk back to the bedroom, but the knocking only grew louder. “Chloe, I know you’re in there. Open the door!” “If you don’t open up, I’m not leaving!” I stood behind the door, refusing to move. “Mom, you talk to her,” his voice called out. I froze. I cracked the door open slightly. He was standing there, but right next to him was his mother. His father stood a few paces behind them. I had met his mother many times. Whenever I visited them during the holidays, she was always polite. She would give me cards with cash and tell me we should get married early so she could help take care of the kids while she was still young. When my parents came to the city, our families had dinner together. His mother had held my mom’s hand, promising, “Don’t you worry, Sarah. Once Chloe marries into our family, I’ll treat her like my own daughter.” “Chloe, dear, open the door. Let’s have a chat,” his mother said. I opened the door fully. His mother walked in, scanning the living room. When her eyes landed on the suitcases piled near the sofa, her lips thinned. “Oh, come on. Is all of this really necessary? Why make such a big scene?” Ethan held out the flowers. “These are for you.” I didn’t take them. His father stood by the doorway, refusing to step inside, his face completely expressionless. His mother sat down on the sofa, patting the spot next to her. “Come, Chloe, sit down. Let’s talk.” I stood my ground. “Why are you just standing there? Come, sit.” “If you have something to say, say it.” His mother’s smile faltered. She glanced at Ethan, then back at me. “Chloe, look. We know our family is in the wrong here. We should have told you sooner. But think about it—how could we possibly bring this up? The girl was pregnant, and her family came banging on our door. We couldn’t just ignore it, could we?” I remained silent, listening to her excuses. “And besides,” his mother paused, “you can’t put all the blame on him. Think about it. You two have been together for so many years, but your mother’s financial demands for the house and the wedding… weren’t they a bit too high?”

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**Chapter 1** I only did him a quick favor by organizing some files when he was working overtime. The very next day, he posted two photos on his Snapchat Story with the caption: [Is this what it feels like to have a sweet girl taking care of you when you get home?] One photo was a side profile of me organizing the documents. The other was an AI-generated photo of us kissing. The entire company group chat blew up, with everyone teasing me and telling me to just marry him already. I stared at my phone in silence, then opened his direct messages. I sent him a photo of my real marriage certificate with our billionaire CEO. “Your photo is AI-generated. Want to guess if mine is real?” *** There was a dead silence for about ten seconds. Then, Ethan Carter’s message popped up. [Lmao, nice photoshop skills. It almost looked real. You didn’t seriously think I’d fall for that, did you?] He followed it with a mocking, laughing emoji. I put my phone down and glanced over at his desk. He was leaning back in his chair, spinning a pen between his fingers. When he saw me looking, he smirked and cocked his chin at me triumphantly. I said nothing. To be honest, when I first saw his Snapchat Story last night, I didn’t think much of it. I figured he just lacked basic boundaries and liked to make tasteless jokes. I had even decided that if he apologized sincerely, I would let it slide. Sure enough, a few minutes later, Ethan strolled over to my desk. He leaned one hand on my desk, bending down to look at me. In a voice he clearly thought was incredibly charming, he whispered, “Grace, you saw the group chat, right? Don’t be mad. I was just saying out loud what you’re too shy to admit. I know you easily get embarrassed.” He let out a soft chuckle and added, “Anyway, you’re single, and I’m single. Who knows? If we hang out more, we might actually make it official.” I looked up and stared at him as if he were a complete lunatic. “Ethan, if these rumors cause serious damage to my reputation, I can sue you.” “You’d better delete those photos from the group chat right now, and make a public apology stating they were AI-generated.” The smile instantly vanished from Ethan’s face. He straightened up, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Seriously? It’s just a picture. Everyone was just having some fun to liven up the workplace. Why are you making such a big deal out of nothing?” I remained silent, staring coldly at him. Uncomfortable under my gaze, he muttered, “Fine, fine. I’ll delete it. You’re so high-maintenance.” He turned and walked away without apologizing. I waited all morning. Ethan did delete the photos from the company WhatsApp group. But then, he posted another photo on his Instagram Story. It was an AI-generated picture of two hands holding, dressed in wedding outfits. The caption read: [Someone got shy and told me to stop showing off. Fine, I’ll delete it because I’m a good boy. But true happiness can’t be hidden. You guys get it. 😉] The comment section immediately filled with “Hahaha” and “We totally get it, bro!” The original photo was gone, but his lie was now set in stone. And I couldn’t exactly demand he delete a photo of two anonymous, holding hands. I stared at my screen, feeling a deep sense of helplessness. *** **Chapter 2** The next morning, I arrived at the office at my usual time. When I pushed open the glass doors, the receptionist gave me a strange look. I immediately knew something was wrong. My phone buzzed. It was a text from Chloe in Finance: [Grace, have you checked the WhatsApp group?] She also sent me a screenshot of Ethan’s Snapchat Story. It was a photo of breakfast for two, though it didn’t show who he was eating with. I opened the company-wide WhatsApp group. The unread messages were already at 999+. I scrolled up to 7:13 AM. Someone in the chat had tagged Ethan: “Hey Ethan, did Grace make that breakfast for you?!” He had replied with a deliberately vague answer: “No, no, don’t start rumors, guys.” The group chat had completely exploded. [Holy crap, Ethan, you’re a legend!] [Lmao, did you guys move in together?] [Is this the official announcement?] [Wedding bells are ringing!] [Ethan is buying us drinks tonight to celebrate!] Everyone was hyping it up. I stared at the screen for a moment, then closed the app. When I reached my desk, I froze. Sitting there was a massive bouquet of 99 red roses, beautifully wrapped. Next to it was a card that read: *To the most beautiful girl.* I picked up the bouquet and placed it directly on the floor. I ignored it completely. This was probably not the reaction Ethan had anticipated. He had probably expected me to blush, play hard to get, and accept the flowers with bashful giggles. But I didn’t say a single word to him. Around noon, he sent me a text: [I’ll put the flowers in your car later so you don’t have to carry them. Lunch together?] I glanced at the screen, locked my phone, and didn’t reply. Fifteen minutes later, he couldn’t sit still anymore. He walked over to my cubicle, leaned his hands on the partition, and loomed over me in a domineering posture. “Grace, I’m serious about this.” I kept typing on my keyboard without looking up. He laughed. “You don’t need to be shy. I know you’ve had feelings for me for a long time. I’ve noticed it ever since you brought me that bottle of water during the company retreat.” The company retreat? Water? My mind flashed back. That was three months ago, during our outdoor team-building event. It was a scorching 100-degree summer day, and he was standing under the blazing sun chatting with some guys. I was just passing by and handed him a bottle of cold water. Why? Because the cooler was right next to me. I grabbed one for myself, and simply handed another to the person standing closest to me. That was literally it. I stopped typing and finally looked up at him. “Ethan, you really don’t need to buy me flowers. If you actually want to show your appreciation, do me a favor and stay away from me. Thanks.” His face stiffened in embarrassment for a split second. “Why are you acting so distant? I get it, girls like to play hard to get. It’s fine. I can give you some time.” He tapped his knuckles on my desk divider and strolled away. I sat there, watching his back, finding the whole thing incredibly absurd. And just like that, Ethan launched a full-on campaign to “woo” me. *** **Chapter 3** Every morning, a Starbucks drink would show up at my desk. On the cup, a smiley face was drawn in Sharpie alongside the words: *For my love.* I took it to the front desk and had them return it, claiming it was “delivered to the wrong person.” Meanwhile, Ethan continued to post on his social media daily. He would upload pictures of breakfasts he allegedly cooked, beautifully plated, with captions like: [I’ll make breakfast for you every single day from now on.] And below his posts, the same group of colleagues kept teasing us. I still refused to engage. Eventually, he cornered me by the elevator in the parking garage. He was leaning against the wall, holding a small bouquet of baby’s breath. “Grace, why are you ignoring me?” “I’m not ignoring you,” I replied coldly. “I’m working.” “Then why aren’t you replying to my texts?” “Because I’m working.” He frowned, taking a step closer to me. I could smell the suffocating scent of his cheap cologne. He lowered his voice, and it sounded less like a plea and more like a threat. “You know the whole office is watching us, right? By ignoring me like this, you’re making me look like a fool.” I almost laughed out loud. “Ethan, let me make this incredibly clear one last time. That night I helped you organize those files was just a random favor. If any other colleague was drowning in work at 9 PM, I would have helped them too. It had absolutely nothing to do with you personally.” His expression darkened. “Grace, do you think I haven’t met girls like you before? You say no with your mouth, but deep down, you’re begging me to keep chasing you. Do you get a kick out of leading me on?” I let out a cold laugh. “I am not leading you—” He waved his hand, cutting me off, the self-satisfied smirk returning to his face. “Alright, alright. I get it. Girls need to keep up appearances. It’s fine, I have patience.” He turned and walked away, tossing the bouquet of baby’s breath into the trash can next to the elevator. Watching the flowers lie in the garbage, a sudden realization hit me. If I didn’t accept him, I was being ungrateful. If I fought back, I was just being dramatic, playing hard to get, or playing mind games. Ethan continued to post his vague, suggestive Snapchat Stories. Fed up with the constant teasing from my coworkers, I finally wrote in the company WhatsApp group: [Ethan and I are not in a relationship. Please stop spreading and discussing false information about me.] Ethan replied instantly: [Understood! Lesson learned! My lips are sealed! 🫡] Immediately, someone commented: [Lmao 😂] [Ethan is totally whipped!] [Is this what flirting in public looks like now?] I also tried to have a serious, private conversation with him. “Ethan, I have zero romantic interest in you. Your behavior is actively disrupting my work and personal life. If you continue, I will file a formal complaint with HR.” Ethan sat in his chair, spinning his pen, looking at me with a smirk that made my skin crawl. Before he walked away, he muttered, “Girls always say no when they mean yes.” I stood there, trembling with pure rage, taking a long time to calm down. That evening, I worked late until 8 PM. When I gathered my things to leave, I realized my car keys were missing. I tore my desk and bag apart, but they were nowhere to be found. Just as I was about to call an Uber to go home and grab my spare keys, I spotted my car in the company lot. The doors were unlocked. On the passenger seat lay a small note: [Your car was looking a bit dusty, so I took it for a quick wash. No need to thank me—just doing my boyfriend duties.] I stood by my car, shaking with fury. He had stolen my car keys from my desk. He had driven my car. He had entered my private space without my consent. This was a massive, criminal violation of my boundaries. Taking a deep breath, I pulled out my phone and took photos of the note and the unlocked car door. Then, I called a professional driver to drive my car back home. The next morning, I went to the building management office and requested the security footage of the parking garage. The video clearly showed Ethan using my keys to unlock my car at 6 PM and driving it away. Two hours later, he drove it back, locked it, and left. I copied the footage onto a USB drive and immediately went to a mechanic near the office. I had the mechanic check the entire vehicle to see if any tracking devices or cameras had been installed. After a thorough search, the mechanic shook his head and said there was nothing. SitSitting in my car after everything was done, I felt utterly exhausted. But I knew one thing for sure: I couldn’t just sit back and take this anymore.

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While I was having my prenatal checkup, my husband suddenly posted a photo of a delivery room wristband on Instagram. The caption read: “Welcome to the world, little guy.” I tapped on the photo and realized the hospital name on the wristband was exactly the same private clinic where I was. Just as I was about to text him, a comment from my best friend, Harper, popped up at the bottom of the post. “Congrats on becoming a dad!” My hands shook as I called her. She stammered before finally letting the truth slip. “He’s been with that girl for five years, Chloe. We all knew.” “We just didn’t want to stress you out while you were pregnant.” I leaned against the freezing hospital wall and slowly slid down to the floor. It turned out my seven-year marriage was nothing but a performance, and everyone around me had been playing their parts perfectly. And the baby in my belly? From the very beginning, he was nothing but an unplanned accident in Julian’s perfect plan. “Chloe, don’t blame me for keeping this from you. I did it for your own good.” My best friend Harper’s voice came through the receiver. “Sienna has been with Julian for five years. She didn’t want a title, she didn’t want his money. She just wanted her baby to have a father.” “You’re still Julian’s legal wife. You’re the one carrying his baby.” “Julian promised me he wouldn’t divorce you. If you just pretend you don’t know, you can still keep your perfect life.” I squeezed the crumpled prenatal report in my hand, my fingernails digging deep into my palm. “Pretend I don’t know?” “Come on, Chloe. He’s a rich, successful man. Which man in his circle doesn’t have a little fun on the side?” Her tone became incredibly dismissive. “Your belly is so big right now. Making a scene will only hurt your baby.” “Julian’s sister, Lauren, and the rest of the family have already met Sienna. Everyone agrees that as long as your position as his wife isn’t threatened, you should just let it go.” I hung up. My stomach churned, and acid burned the back of my throat. I opened Julian’s Instagram again. I zoomed in on the photo of the hospital wristband a hundred times. The building number on the band was the seventeenth floor of this very hospital. The format of the newborn’s foot tag was identical to this high-end private clinic. The comment section was buzzing. Julian’s childhood friend, Carter: “Hidden for five years, finally out in the open. Congrats, man!” Julian’s sister, Lauren: “Thank you for your hard work, Sienna. You’ve given our family our beautiful firstborn boy!” Harper replied below: “Don’t tag the one who shouldn’t see this. She’s pregnant and can’t take the drama right now.” I scrolled down, line by line. Every single username was someone I knew. Just then, my screen lit up. It was Julian. I pressed answer. “Hey, sweetie. Are you done with your checkup?” His voice was deep, gentle, and carried a perfectly calculated touch of exhaustion. “What did the OB-GYN say? Is our baby healthy?” I stared at the bustling lobby of the hospital. “Where are you, Julian?” “I just landed. There’s an emergency project out of town that I need to supervise personally.” His tone was filled with fake regret. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t be there with you today. Did you eat a good lunch?” “Is your morning sickness still bad? I had my assistant buy some peppermint tea and cookies you like.” “I’ll be back in a few days to take you to the anatomy scan, okay?” I listened to his steady, calm breathing. His Instagram post went up at 9:43 AM today. At that exact moment, I couldn’t reach him, and I was crying alone in the corner of the hallway. “Julian.” “Yeah? What’s wrong, babe? You sound off.” “Are you really out of town?” There was a two-second silence on the other end. “Of course I am. The clients here are pretty demanding, so I might have to stay a couple more days. Why do you ask?” “Nothing. I’m just tired.” “Go home and rest, okay? I asked the housekeeper to warm up some milk for you. Be good, wait for me to get back.” The line went dead. I stood up. My legs were so weak my knees buckled before I could steady myself. I went to the pharmacy to pick up my prenatal vitamins. As I passed the reception desk, a nurse’s voice suddenly rose. “Family of Sienna Brooks! Is the family of Sienna Brooks here?” My feet froze. Sienna Brooks. The “demanding fifty-year-old female client” Julian had saved in his contacts. He had told me she was a nightmare business partner. “The birth registration form is wrong! The father’s middle name is missing a letter!” The nurse crumpled the paper into a ball and threw it into the recycling bin outside the counter. “Fill out a new one and bring it back! Don’t hold up the line!” I walked over, bent down, and retrieved the paper ball from the bin. I smoothed it out slowly. Mother: Sienna Brooks. Father: Julian Vance. The timestamp was 10:00 AM today. Right when I was on the fourth floor getting a fetal heart rate monitor, trembling with fear because of abnormal fetal movement. The handwriting on the paper was firm and confident. It was Julian’s. I folded the paper and slipped it into my bag.

The elevator numbers ticked up. Seventeenth floor. VIP Maternity Ward. The hallway outside the private suite was filled with luxury flower arrangements. I walked closer and read the cards. “Wishing Sienna and the baby a speedy recovery.” Carter. “Welcome to parenthood.” Harper. “My brother is finally a dad.” Lauren. The door to the suite was slightly ajar. Soft, happy laughter echoed from inside. I pushed the door open. Julian was sitting by the bedside, holding a cup of warm water, carefully feeding Sienna with a spoon. She leaned against the pillows, pale but glowing with a smug happiness. The maternity band was wrapped around her wrist. The bassinet was right beside them. Lauren was holding the swaddled newborn, smiling from ear to ear. “Oh, look at this nose, these eyes. He looks exactly like Julian.” Julian set the spoon down and reached out to gently tickle the baby’s cheek. “Yeah. He takes after me.” I stood at the doorway. Lauren turned first. Her smile froze instantly. “Ch… Chloe? What are you doing here?” Julian whipped his head around. The spoon clattered into the bowl, splashing a few drops of water onto the table. He stood up, instinctively taking a step forward to block the bed from my sight. “Chloe, let me explain.” I didn’t even look at him. “So, you’re Sienna?” Sienna’s face turned white. She clutched her stomach and pulled the blanket up, shrinking back into the bed. Julian immediately turned to comfort her, then looked back at me, his brow furrowed. “Chloe, she just gave birth. She can’t handle any stress. You’re pregnant too, don’t make a scene here.” “Let’s talk outside.” I stared at this man who had slept beside me for seven years. “A scene? As your legal wife, coming to visit your newborn bastard, how is this making a scene?” I pulled the crumpled birth registration form and my prenatal report from my bag. “I have our marriage certificate on my phone. And my checkup record is from today too.” “Julian, when you told me this morning that you were out of town on business, you were actually in this exact building, holding her hand while she gave birth?” Silence fell over the room. Lauren put the baby back into the bassinet and cleared her throat. “Chloe, it’s already happened. Don’t be so aggressive.” “Sienna has been with Julian for five years without any recognition. Now she’s finally given our family an heir.” “We can’t just pretend the child doesn’t exist, can we?” I turned to her. “So, the whole family knew. I was the only fool kept in the dark?” Sienna’s tears began to pour. “Chloe, please don’t blame Julian. It’s all my fault.” “I don’t want a title. I just wanted my baby to have a father.” She sobbed, glancing at the bassinet. “Chloe, the baby in your belly is still small, but my baby is already here… Please, don’t ruin his home on the very day he came into this world.” How hilarious. I was the one whose home was destroyed, yet now I was the villain trying to ruin theirs. Footsteps echoed outside. Harper pushed the door open. When she saw me, her expression changed. She rushed over and grabbed my arm. “Chloe, let’s go home first. Don’t do this here…” “It’s not a bad thing for a man to have two kids. It’s not like Julian can’t afford to raise them both.” Carter followed her in, chiming in. “Yeah, Chloe. It’s not like Julian is leaving you.” I looked at these people. Just yesterday, they were commenting on my Instagram posts, telling me how lucky I was. I yanked my arm out of Harper’s grip, pulled my wedding ring off my ring finger, and threw it. Clang. The diamond ring hit the metal bar of the bassinet and bounced onto the hardwood floor. “Since you three make such a perfect family, I’ll let you have him.” I turned to leave. But my wrist was suddenly grabbed in a vice grip. Julian stared at me, his eyes bloodshot. “I will never divorce you. The child in your womb is also mine.”

Julian’s grip was so tight my knuckles turned white. Ignoring my struggles, he dragged me out of the hospital and shoved me into his car. The doors locked with a heavy click. The ride home was completely silent. The moment I stepped inside our house, I felt like I couldn’t breathe. In the corner of the living room stood the baby bassinet I had assembled with my own hands. On the sofa was the hospital bag I had packed weeks ago. Julian took off his coat and stepped forward to hug me, but I dodged him. His arms hung in the air, and he let out a heavy sigh. “Chloe, today was my fault.” “But I had no choice. Sienna’s baby was breech. The delivery was highly risky. I couldn’t just not be there.” His voice was incredibly calm, showing no remorse for being caught red-handed. “She just gave birth. She can’t handle any shock. And a newborn needs his father.” “You are in your third trimester now. Your pregnancy is high-risk. Getting a divorce right now will only hurt your body.” “Let’s talk about the future after you safely deliver our baby, okay?” I stared at his self-righteous face. “Julian, do you think that as long as you’re willing to sweet-talk me, I have to accept this disgusting situation?” He frowned. “Chloe, I will give you and our baby the best medical care. Private nurses, a newborn specialist. I have already arranged everything.” “All you need to do is focus on your pregnancy. Don’t worry about anything else.” He packaged his stalling tactics as responsibility. He wanted to keep both women and both children under his thumb. I didn’t argue. I turned and walked into the bedroom. I pulled open the drawer and dug out our thick, old photo album. Five years ago, he said he was on a business trip to Miami. But in the background of one photo, there was a corner of a pink dress. Three years ago, on his Amazon account, he had purchased two identical pregnancy pillows. One was shipped three days earlier than mine. During my first trimester, he sent me a playlist of prenatal music. In the memo section, there was a tiny letter “S”. I had thought it was a work note. Every page I turned brought a fresh wave of nausea. Julian walked in with a glass of warm milk and set it on the nightstand. “Chloe, stop overthinking.” “You have signs of threatened miscarriage. The medical bills for keeping this baby safe are going to be astronomical. You can’t afford that on your own.” “For the sake of the baby, stop making a scene.” He was absolutely sure I couldn’t leave him. He was sure that reality and the baby would trap me forever. I looked at him and said nothing. That night, Julian went to sleep in the study. I lay in bed, and my phone vibrated. It was a video from an unknown number. I tapped it. In the video, Julian was cradling the newborn, whispering softly. “Be good, sweetie. Daddy’s here.” From behind the camera, Sienna’s voice drifted in. “Chloe, your baby isn’t even born yet, but Julian is already calling himself Daddy to my son.” “When your baby finally comes, how much time and energy do you think Julian will have left for him?” The video cut off. My hands gripped the bedsheets. A sharp, stabbing pain suddenly bloomed in my lower abdomen. I clutched my stomach, cold sweat pouring down my back, soaking my pajamas.

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After three years of a secret marriage, the chat history between me and my husband, Ethan, who works at a private airline, has been reduced to just two words. Every time he flew a night route, he would text: [Departing.] Every time he touched down, he would text: [Landed.] Not a single extra word. My heart systemic-ached every single time. Until three o’clock one morning, when his plane ran straight into a severe thunderstorm. I was on duty in the control tower, and through my headset, I heard him flirting with the new co-pilot, Maya: “Captain Vance, if we make it out of this alive, how about you take off on me next?” The headset went silent for two seconds before Ethan let out a low, teasing chuckle. “Sure. But don’t be scared. I’ll make sure we land safely.” My fingers trembled on the console. Forcing down the panic, I kept my voice steady and guided them through the danger. The moment they landed safely, I headed straight to the airport transit hotel where he was staying. At the end of the dimly lit hallway, their shadows merged. I watched Ethan—usually so cold, disciplined, and restrained—lose complete control, acting like a plane spinning wildly off course. I let out a silent, bitter laugh. I had loved Ethan for eleven years. But falling out of love with him? It only took a single second.

I didn’t stay. I turned around and walked out of the hotel. The freezing 3 a.m. wind whipped against my neck, sending a chill straight through my chest. “Marcus, I want to apply for a transfer to the West Texas desert hub. I want to be an air traffic controller out there.” The weather there was notoriously erratic and the conditions were brutal. But it was far enough. Far enough that I would never have to wait for him to land again. Marcus Bennett, my manager, was shocked when he took my call: “Clara, are you sure you want to transfer now? Once you finish the emergency weather protocol you’ve been working on, you’re guaranteed a promotion to Deputy Chief.” I just gave a quiet hum of agreement. Marcus was one of the very few people at the airline who knew about my secret marriage to Ethan. He sounded bewildered: “Does Ethan know? I thought things were stable between you two.” I didn’t want to explain. “I just need a change of scenery,” I said flatly. He didn’t press further, only promising to fast-track the paperwork. When I got home, I kicked off my flats by the door. The tiny thud sounded deafening in the empty, silent house. I walked into the bathroom, feeling completely numb. Ethan and Maya’s breathless, flirtatious banter kept echoing in my ears. Tears finally spilled over. I turned the faucet on all the way, using the rushing water to drown out my sobs. As dawn started to break, my phone finally buzzed. A text from Ethan: [Landed.] I stared at those six letters for a long time. I remembered how, before we got married, he would send me long, excited voice notes the second he touched down, even if he was in a rush for post-flight inspections. He used to beg me not to call an Uber, insisting he would drive over to pick me up. But all that warmth had evaporated over the years. Now, it was just a mechanical check-in. I texted back: [No need to update me anymore.] He didn’t reply. I flipped my phone face down on the table, dragged my suitcase out of the closet, and started packing. There wasn’t much of me in this house anyway. The vintage airplane models he loved were bought by me. The expensive kettle I used to brew his stomach-soothing tea was bought by me. Even the motion-sensor light in the hallway was installed by me, just so he wouldn’t trip in the dark after a late-night flight. Looking back at our three years of secret marriage, Ethan barely spent any nights here. He was always busy with routes, training for upgrades, and leading the flight crew. I used to genuinely believe he was just overwhelmed with work. Now, I realized the harsh truth: he wasn’t busy. He just stopped caring once he had me. Halfway through packing, my WhatsApp work group buzzed with a new notification. I clicked it open. Last night’s severe thunderstorm incident had been flagged as an exemplary safety response. A company-wide debrief meeting was scheduled for this afternoon. There were only two key speakers listed: Ethan Vance. Maya Sterling. My fingers froze. I scrolled down. My name wasn’t there. But I was the air traffic controller on duty last night. I was the one tracking the radar echoes. I was the one who timed their go-around perfectly. I was the one who rerouted the approach sequence three times to guide them safely back. Yet, my name was entirely omitted from the debrief notice. A colleague texted in the WhatsApp group: “Captain Vance and Maya were incredible last night. I heard their coordination was textbook-perfect.” Others chimed in immediately: “For a rookie co-pilot, Maya handled that emergency like a pro.” “Yeah, the afternoon debrief is going to focus heavily on their seamless crew coordination.” Swallowing the bitter lump in my throat, I expressionlessly packed my last sweater into the suitcase. Just then, Marcus called again. “Clara, your transfer request has been officially approved.” “Also, you need to attend the debrief this afternoon. Even though Operations didn’t put you on the speaker list, you still need to be there for questioning as the on-duty controller.” I gave a flat reply. “Understood.” I walked over to the dining table, placed the signed divorce papers next to my keys, and walked out of that freezing house without looking back.

That afternoon, the airline held the official debriefing. I was called in as the on-duty controller to provide background details. They sat me all the way in the back, against the wall. Meanwhile, Maya, representing the flight crew, took center stage at the presenter’s podium. Ethan was seated close to her, casually flipping through his notes. Before Maya walked up, he reached out to straighten the water bottle she had accidentally nudged crooked. It was a small, incredibly intimate gesture. Standing in front of the projector, Maya confidently walked everyone through last night’s emergency procedures. The room erupted in frequent applause. Then came the Q&A session. Suddenly, an anonymous message popped up on the internal meeting screen. “Questioning the authenticity of Co-pilot Maya Sterling’s core contribution to last night’s emergency handling.” “The go-around recommendation, the wind shear window calculation, and the subsequent approach routing are identical to the direct instructions and weather logs of air traffic controller Clara Vance.” “Can Co-pilot Sterling explain this? Is she stealing credit for someone else’s work?” Whispers immediately broke out across the room. Maya’s face turned pale instantly. Her hand holding the clicker began to shake as she looked at Ethan with pooling eyes. Hearing the anonymous question, the heavy weight on my chest lifted slightly. I hadn’t sent that message, nor had I planned to drag this drama into a public meeting, but seeing the truth laid bare felt like a breath of fresh air. Ethan looked across the room and locked eyes with me. His brow was furrowed, his eyes cold and accusation-filled. My heart plummeted again. Ethan stood up, walked to the podium, and took the microphone. His voice was perfectly steady. “I’d like to address the anonymous question.” “Every critical decision during last night’s emergency was led entirely by me.” “Maya followed my exact directives flawlessly. As Captain, I can personally guarantee that her actions were beyond reproach.” He paused, his gaze cutting through the crowd to land heavily on me. “Clara Vance was the controller on duty. Her job was simply to follow standard protocol—managing traffic flow, maintaining separation, and relaying information. We all know that air traffic control merely supports the cockpit; they do not drive the decision-making.” The room exploded into murmurs. People were whispering, and several turned their heads to stare at me. With just a few sentences, Ethan had completely erased my judgment, my split-second scheduling, and the immense risks I had taken to keep them alive. I suddenly remembered seven years ago, the very first time I handled a heavy traffic night shift on my own. Ethan was still just a co-pilot back then. After he landed, he walked all the way to the tower to bring me a warm cup of coffee. He had looked at me and said, “Babe, it’s your voice in my headset that brings me home safely.” Back then, I thought he truly understood my worth. But now, he dismissed me as mere “support.” Beside him, Maya’s panic melted away. Ethan adjusted the mic for her, giving her a reassuring nod to continue. That look felt like a physical slap to my face. I stood up abruptly and started walking toward the stage. Ethan quickly intercepted me, grabbing my wrist so hard it hurt. “Let go,” I gasped, my voice trembling with rage. He didn’t let go. Instead, he gave a polite nod to the room. “Excuse us, we need to cross-check some operational details.” Ignoring my struggles, he dragged me out of the conference room. The heavy doors slammed shut behind us. In the quiet hallway, I wrenched my arm free. My eyes burned. “Ethan, you completely minimized my work just to protect her! What am I to you?” His expression was dark. I thought he would offer an explanation, or at least spin one of his usual elegant lies. Instead, he suddenly stepped forward, leaned down, and kissed me. It was a short, icy kiss. No warmth, no comfort, and absolutely no apology. It was a mere transactional touch before he pulled back. I froze in utter shock. Ethan stared at me, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Is that enough, Clara? Stop making a scene.” A wave of profound humiliation washed over me. Raising my hand, I slapped him across the face. His head snapped to the side. I aggressively wiped my mouth with my sleeve. “Ethan, you disgust me,” I spat. Without waiting for a reaction, I turned to leave. But Maya suddenly ran out of the room, calling after me. “Clara, please come to our celebration dinner tonight!” she called out, raising her voice on purpose. “I really want to thank you publicly for guiding us back. I don’t want anyone thinking we stole your credit!” Before I could speak, Ethan stepped close and whispered in my ear: “Clara, she’s just a rookie. Cut her some slack.” “You’re my wife. Help me out here. There’s no need to sweat the small stuff.” My chest tightened. “And what she said to you on the radio last night? Was that also just a ‘rookie’ being playful?” Ethan’s brow furrowed deep. “Clara, don’t be ridiculous. There is nothing going on between us. Don’t ruin a young girl’s reputation.” “You are a professional controller. Don’t bring our marital issues into the workplace. It’s highly unprofessional.” I used to think that even if he didn’t love me, he was at least a decent, responsible man. But his behavior today completely extinguished the last spark of affection I had for him. “I’ll be at the dinner, Ethan. But I want a divorce.” A flicker of shock crossed his face. “Clara, don’t play around. You’ve been with me since you were eighteen. If you leave me, who else would want you?” I laughed, though there was no joy in it. Shoving past him coldly, I walked away.

The celebration dinner was held at the upscale hotel across from the airline headquarters. Inside the private room, the atmosphere was lively, glasses clinking in toasts. Marcus Bennett, looking flushed and happy, beamed at his star captain and the new co-pilot: “Ethan, you’re rock-steady, and Maya is incredibly sharp. One makes perfect calls, and the other executes them flawlessly. You two make an exceptional team.” “And Ethan, you’re not getting any younger. You should start thinking about your personal life. Maya might be a bit outspoken, but she’s a wonderful girl…” His matchmaking intentions couldn’t have been more obvious. The few people at the table who knew about my marriage to Ethan went dead silent, casting nervous glances my way. Ethan remained silent for a few seconds before replying smoothly, “Thanks, Marcus. But with the heavy flight schedules right now, I’m focusing strictly on work.” The smile froze on Maya’s face, turning her pale. Her eyes welled with tears as she abruptly pushed back her chair and bolted out of the room. Ethan watched her run out, frowned, and stood up to follow her. I quietly followed them out onto the hotel terrace. Maya had her back to me, her face buried in Ethan’s chest. “Why not, Ethan? I love you! I’ll work hard to be worthy of you!” Knowing colleagues were just inside, Ethan didn’t wrap his arms around her. But his silent acceptance of her closeness spoke volumes. I remembered how, whenever I tried to get close to him at the office, he would subtly but firmly step back to maintain professional distance. Ethan gently pushed her back by the shoulders and whispered, “You don’t want people saying you only got promoted because of me. Let’s get you credited for the winter weather protocol first…” A cold dread seized me. My nails dug into my palms. *What protocol?* Ethan looked up and spotted me, his pupils contracting slightly. Just then, my phone buzzed violently. I looked down. It was a message from a colleague: *’Clara! Have you seen the new announcement on the company portal? Why is Maya Sterling listed as the lead author of the high-altitude weather dispatch protocol? Didn’t you pull three consecutive all-nighters to write that?’* My heart sank. I opened the PDF on my phone, scrolling through page after page with trembling fingers. Every single line was my own writing. Even a specific typo in a technical acronym that I always made was left completely untouched. They hadn’t changed a single word. I held up the glowing screen, my voice dangerously calm. “What is the meaning of this?” Ethan glanced at the screen, his tone casual. “I let her put her name on it. She’s junior and needs the leverage for the year-end evaluations. Once she gets more flight hours, we’ll balance out your credits.” I nearly laughed out loud from sheer rage. “So, you stole my hard work to pave her career? You gave away my sleepless nights as a gift to her, without even asking me?” Ethan remained defensive, deflecting the blame: “It was a collaborative project. Maya helped organize the files, so putting her name on it is perfectly within procedure. The board makes the final decision, but as Captain, I have recommendation rights. Your contribution will be recognized later.” My voice shook. “Recognized how? By putting my name in a tiny footnote at the end of the year, like you always do?” He went quiet for a moment, then uttered words that chilled me to the bone: “Clara, you transferred to this airline just to be close to me in the first place.” “These titles and credits don’t actually matter to you.” “But they matter to Maya. She needs this resume to establish herself and climb the ladder.” My ears rang. He knew. He had always known. He knew I stayed in this stressful tower job just to coordinate with his schedule, and he knew how much this promotion meant to me. He wasn’t oblivious; he just didn’t care. He treated my love, my sacrifice, and my patience as cheap currency he could spend on another woman. I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath to steady myself. When I opened them, my mind was entirely made up. “I’m warning you, Ethan. Stealing my intellectual property is a serious violation. If you go through with this, I will ruin both of you.” Maya immediately put on her innocent act, raising her voice so everyone could hear: “Clara, please don’t be like this! If you really want your name on *my* protocol, I don’t mind sharing the credit! Please don’t fight with Ethan because of me…” Her loud plea instantly drew a crowd near the terrace doors. People began whispering maliciously: “Is Clara losing her mind over a promotion?” “She’s just a basic controller, yet she’s trying to steal credit from the flight crew.” “She should be fired. This is embarrassing for the airline.” I stood there, marveling at the utter absurdity of it all. Ethan didn’t stop Maya. He even played along, whispering gently to her, “It’s okay, Maya. Don’t say any more.” Marcus Bennett stepped up, his face dark with disapproval. “Clara, if you have an issue with the authorship, file a formal complaint tomorrow. Stop making a fool of yourself in public.” I looked at the judgmental faces of my colleagues. I smiled, slipping my phone into my pocket. “Fine. You want me to follow procedure?” Ethan’s brow twitched. Sensing something was wrong, he reached out. “Clara…” I stepped back, dodging his hand, and walked away without another word. Ethan tried to follow, but Maya quickly grabbed his arm to hold him back. The next morning, I went straight to the ATC archives. I filed an official request to lock and seal last night’s original radio transmissions, weather logs, and flight dispatch records. The archivist was taken aback but processed the request. I signed the paperwork and kept my copy of the receipt. Then, I headed to the Internal Compliance Office and handed over a flash drive. It contained the complete, time-stamped writing logs of the weather protocol exported directly from my computer. They thought they could simply erase my name and call my work their own. But data never lies. After that, I went to HR to sign my transfer approval. I handed in my building badge. By the time I walked out of the headquarters, the sun had already set. Standing by the curb, I blocked Ethan’s number, his Snapchat, and his contact info on our internal messaging app. I locked my phone screen, gripped the handle of my suitcase, and walked into the night without a single regret. By the time the cabin doors of my flight closed and the plane began to taxi, Ethan—finally realizing the magnitude of what had happened—was desperately dialing my number. But all he got was the cold, robotic automated voice: “We’re sorry, the number you are trying to reach is unavailable.”

Ethan stared at his phone, his brow furrowed as the busy tone buzzed in his ear. He hung up, slammed his foot on the gas, and drove straight back to our shared apartment. But when he pushed the door open, only pitch-black silence welcomed him. The motion-sensor light in the hallway—the one I had lovingly installed for his late-night returns—remained dark. Annoyed, Ethan ripped off his tie and flipped on the overhead living room lights. The furniture was exactly as he had left it, but the warmth of my presence was entirely gone. “Clara?” Silence stretched. No warm greeting, no dinner waiting. Nothing. He marched to the bedroom and yanked open the closet doors. It was completely empty. My clothes, my shoes, and even my suitcase from the corner were gone. Ethan’s breathing turned heavy. He hurried back to the living room, where a neat stack of white paper under a glass caught his eye. With trembling hands, he picked up the papers. The bold title at the top read: DIVORCE AGREEMENT. He flipped frantically to the final page. In the bottom right corner was my signature—written in bold, decisive ink, without a hint of hesitation. Beside the papers lay my house keys, aligned perfectly. Ethan squeezed the papers so hard his knuckles turned white. He dialed my number again. Still blocked. He tried FaceTime, then Snapchat. Nothing went through. It finally sank in that he had been completely shut out of my life. Suppressing his rising panic, he tossed the papers back onto the table, refusing to believe I was actually gone for good. The following morning, the airline held its grand commendation and protocol launch event at headquarters. The conference hall was packed. Marcus Bennett sat at the head of the main table, wearing a proud grin. Maya, wearing professional makeup and an elegant dress, sat in the front row of the awardees’ section. Ethan sat right next to her. Despite looking exhausted, he maintained his poised, commanding captain’s posture. Marcus picked up the microphone and loudly announced the official integration of the high-altitude weather dispatch protocol into the airline’s standard operations. Just as Maya stood up to receive her award, the heavy double doors of the conference hall were thrown open. Three senior investigators from the Federal Air Safety Compliance Department walked in, their faces grim. Ignoring the shocked gasps, they walked straight to the podium and inserted a flash drive into the master computer. Instantly, a detailed system log flashed onto the massive projection screen. “Regarding this dispatch protocol, the Safety Compliance Department received a formal, non-anonymous report along with concrete backend data,” the lead investigator announced. His voice echoed through the mic. “The system logs prove that every single byte of this protocol—from its creation to the final draft—was uploaded under the employee ID and IP address of Clara Vance.” The room went dead silent. Every single eye in the room locked onto Maya. The smile froze on Maya’s face, and her lips began to tremble uncontrollably. Ethan’s expression hardened, and he stood up abruptly. “Investigator, there must be a mistake. The data collection was a collaborative team effort.” The investigator shot him a cold look and clicked on the next file. It was the raw audio recording from the hotel terrace the night before. Their voices echoed with painful clarity throughout the hall. “You gave away my sleepless nights as a gift to her, without even asking me?” “It was a collaborative project. Putting her name on it is perfectly within procedure.” “If you go through with this, I will ruin both of you.” When the audio finished playing, you could hear a pin drop. Marcus Bennett’s proud smile was completely gone, replaced by shock and raw fury. Maya’s knees buckled, and she slumped back into her chair, utterly defeated. Ethan stared at the screen, his tall frame swaying slightly. He finally realized that my final warning had not been an empty threat.

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At our wedding rehearsal dinner, the moment I walked into the banquet hall, I saw my grandma, who suffers from dementia, crawling on the floor like a dog. Hailey Brooks, Ethan Vance’s student intern, was tossing candies onto the floor, laughing as she shouted at her. “Crawl around the table once and bark twice, and I’ll give you a treat.” “No hands allowed. You have to pick it up with your teeth.” My grandma’s knees were shaking violently from the pain, but she still obeyed. She lay flat on the floor, picking up a candy with her mouth like a dog, which made Hailey burst into hysterical laughter. It wasn’t until she saw me that she frantically started picking up the candies from the floor with her hands. She forgot she could even stand up. She just crawled to me on her knees and held out her hands like she was showing off a treasure. “Coco…” “Eat the candy. It’s sweet!” Trembling with rage, I rushed forward and slapped Hailey hard across the face. Ethan instantly pulled her behind him, frowning as he snapped at me. “Hailey is studying physical rehab. She was just helping your grandma with behavioral response training.” “Besides, your grandma doesn’t remember anything anyway. She’ll forget it in a few minutes.” “Do you really have to throw a tantrum at our rehearsal dinner and embarrass everyone?” My grandma didn’t understand what was happening. She just nudged the candy closer to my lips, repeating in a pleading voice: “Eat, Coco.” “Eat it, and don’t cry.” She had already forgotten why she was kneeling on the floor, but she still remembered that when I was a little girl, a single candy could stop my tears. I swallowed the dust-covered candy, choosing not to argue with Ethan anymore. Instead, as I helped my grandma out of the hall, I pulled out my phone and texted our wedding planner. [Cancel the wedding in three days. Keep the deposit.]

The planner replied almost instantly, asking if I had sent the message to the wrong person. I looked back. Ethan was still leaning down to comfort Hailey, completely oblivious to the fact that I had already left. I replied calmly: [I didn’t send it to the wrong person.] This wedding, which I had spent a whole year planning. There was no longer any point in going through with it. When we got home, it took me a long time to soothe my grandma before she finally fell asleep. At eleven that night, Ethan came back. He placed a tube of ointment on the nightstand and wrapped his arms around me from behind. “Your grandma’s knees only have some scrapes. The ointment will clear it up in a few days.” “Hailey went a bit too far today.” “I’ve already lectured her. And I won’t hold it against you that you slapped her.” Ethan stroked my back gently, just like he used to. Every time we fought, he would coax me this way. When Hailey was giving me an IV and “accidentally” missed my vein over a dozen times, he held me just like this and explained it away. On my birthday, Hailey lied about being suicidal over a breakup and kept Ethan away for the entire night. When he came back, he just held me and whispered that there wouldn’t be a next time. But after every “next time,” there was always another. Ethan probably thought that as long as he bowed his head and said a few sweet words, I would eventually forgive him, no matter how angry I was. He kissed my forehead, just like he always did. “Alright, let’s put this behind us.” “I know you won’t hold a grudge against an immature young girl.” He waited for me to hug him back like I used to. But I just lowered my eyes and said calmly, “Okay.” Ethan let out a visible sigh of relief. Before he could say anything else, his phone suddenly rang. Hailey’s crying voice came through the speaker. “Professor Vance, my mom suddenly got dizzy, and I don’t know what to do.” Ethan immediately let go of me. “Don’t cry.” “Take her to the hospital first. I’m on my way.”

Once the phone hung up, he grabbed the coat he had just taken off. Before leaving, he didn’t forget to turn back and remind me: “Get some sleep.” “It won’t look good if you have dark circles under your eyes on our wedding day.” I didn’t remind him. The wedding in three days had already been cancelled by me. Less than half an hour after Ethan left, my grandma started shivering violently in her sleep. I quickly dressed her and carried her downstairs on my back. She was so thin, nothing but skin and bones. Yet, carrying her on my back made me sweat profusely. At the hospital, I lined up alone to register, pay, and get the lab slips. By the time I got the test results, my back was completely soaked with sweat. The nurse, however, told me: “The Chief of Neurology’s schedule is completely full today.” “You can only wait in the general urgent care lobby. There are twenty-something people ahead of you.” I pleaded in a low voice, “She’s suddenly very confused and shivering. Could you please ask the specialist to just take a quick look?” The nurse shook her head helplessly. Just then, a familiar voice came from behind me. “Please add a priority slot for Dr. Harrison.” Ethan walked over with Hailey and her mother. He spoke politely to the nurse. “This is my student’s mother.” “I’ve already cleared it with Dr. Harrison. Just let her go straight in.” The nurse immediately opened the clinic door for them. Standing there, I suddenly remembered the year my grandma was first diagnosed with dementia. Back then, I couldn’t get a specialist appointment for days, so I called Ethan for help. Even though he was very close with that specialist, he refused to help me. “Just because you’re my girlfriend, I need to avoid any conflict of interest.” “The hospital has rules.” “If everyone uses personal connections to skip the line, what about the ordinary patients?” Though disappointed, I had felt proud of his integrity. Later, I arrived at the hospital at 4:00 AM to queue up, waiting for two whole days before finally getting that appointment for my grandma. But now I understood. His so-called principles were never unbreakable. I just wasn’t worth making an exception for. Hailey spotted me. Holding her mother’s arm, she feigned a look of conflict. “Chloe, did you bring your grandma here too?” “Why don’t we give this slot to your grandma?” “My mom is just a little dizzy. It’s fine if we wait a bit.” Ethan, however, frowned. “Stop messing around.” “This is the first time your mom has had these symptoms. We must rule out any immediate danger.” Only then did he look at me, his tone still calm and dismissive. “Your grandma has had this disease for years. Waiting a little longer won’t make a difference.” “Just wait out here. Once Hailey’s mom is done, I’ll see if I can squeeze your grandma in.” I looked at him and suddenly smiled. “Okay.” Ethan’s expression softened slightly. “I’m glad you can prioritize what’s important.” It turned out that in his vocabulary, “important” never depended on who was sicker. It only depended on whether the person suffering was Hailey. He guided Hailey’s mother into the clinic. Hailey followed close beside him, casting a glance back at me. Her eyes were filled with triumph she couldn’t hide. The clinic door shut right in front of me. My grandma looked up dizzily. “Coco, let’s go home…” I squeezed her cold hand. “Grandma, just a little longer.” “We’re going to a new home soon.” Two weeks ago, my company had invited me to relocate to our UK branch to lead a new project. There happened to be a world-class care facility specializing in dementia patients near the office. I had been hesitant to leave my seven-year relationship with Ethan, so I hadn’t replied.

In this very moment, I opened my email and hit “Accept.” Then, I booked two one-way tickets to London for three days later. One for me. One for my grandma. We had seventy-two hours left before our departure. Three days from now was supposed to be the day I married him. Now, it would be the day he lost me forever. After spending half the day at the hospital, it was late at night by the time we got home. Just as I tucked my grandma in, she suddenly called out my name with complete clarity. “Chloe.” I froze. It had been a very long time since my grandma had looked at me with such lucid eyes. She looked down at the bandage on her knee, silent for a long time, before asking in a trembling voice: “Was today your rehearsal dinner?” “Did Grandma… crawl on the floor and act like a dog?” My nose stung instantly. “No.” “Grandma was just sick. You did nothing wrong.” But her eyes slowly welled with tears. “I remember.” “So many people were laughing. Someone was taking videos.” “You were wearing such a beautiful dress. You were supposed to be happy, but Grandma embarrassed you again.” She reached out to touch my face. Those hands were thin and rough, her joints heavily deformed from years of hard work. When I had a high fever as a child, it was those hands that carried me miles down a mountain road. When I couldn’t afford tuition, it was my grandma who woke up at dawn every day to sell vegetables, collecting crumpled dollar bills to pay for my school. Back then, she always said that as long as her Coco was doing well, any exhaustion was worth it. Now, she looked at her shaking hands and kept apologizing to me. “Grandma is old and senile.” “You have to take care of me, and you get laughed at because of me.” “If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have fought with Ethan today.” “I shouldn’t have gone to the dinner.” I hugged her tightly. “It wasn’t because of you.” “Grandma, you are never a burden to me.” I told her that in three days, we were moving to London. There were better care centers there, and no one who knew us. My grandma listened for a long time, then finally nodded gently. “As long as my Coco doesn’t find me annoying.” I thought I had comforted her. But in the middle of the night, after finishing up some work, I pushed open her bedroom door only to find her lying quietly on the bed. She was wearing her cleanest clothes, and her gray hair was combed perfectly neat. A row of empty pill bottles sat on her nightstand. Her blood pressure pills, painkillers, and daily chronic disease medications—she had swallowed them all. She had even folded the empty blister packs neatly and put them in a plastic bag. It was as if she was terrified of making a mess of the room and causing me more trouble. Beside her, the tablet on her desk was playing the rehearsal dinner video on a loop. When Hailey posted the video on TikTok, she had proudly captioned it: [Some people act so high and mighty, but who knew her grandma would crawl like a dog for me? ~] In the video, my grandma was on all fours like a dog. In the comments section, some called her an old nuisance, while others mocked me, saying that marrying a girl with a grandma like this would surely bring shame to the groom’s family. She had watched that video seventeen times. My heart felt as if it were being violently carved out with a knife. On the table, a piece of paper was held down by a glass. The handwriting on it was shaky and uneven. [Coco, Grandma won’t embarrass you anymore.] [Go live a good life.] I rushed to the bedside, calling her name repeatedly. There was no response. Her body was already cold, but her hand was still tightly clutching that last piece of candy. It was as if, until her very last breath, she remembered to save it for me. When the paramedics arrived, the doctor took one look and shook his head with regret.

I knelt by the bed, crying my heart out, calling for my grandma over and over. But the old woman who, no matter how many times she forgot everything else, would always remember to save a candy for me, never opened her eyes again. Ethan had said she would forget the humiliation and mockery in a few minutes. But that night, my grandma didn’t wait for her next lapse of memory. She took all her medication, forever trapped in the most lucid, yet most painful night of her life. During the two days I spent handling her funeral arrangements, Ethan never showed up. From getting the death certificate, to contacting the crematorium, to picking out the urn—I did it all alone. Meanwhile, Hailey’s Instagram Stories never stopped. In her photos, she was wearing the wedding dress that was meant for me. Ethan was half-kneeling on the floor, adjusting her hemline. The caption read: [Chloe is throwing another tantrum and refused to come, so I had to help Professor Vance try on the dress. Gold star for his taste! This dress feels like it was custom-made for me.] Someone commented below: [If I didn’t know better, I’d think you two were the ones getting married tomorrow.] Hailey quickly replied: [Shh, don’t let the old lady see this, she gets jealous so easily.] While waiting to collect my grandma’s ashes at the crematorium, Ethan finally called. “Chloe, where are you?” “The bridal shop scheduled our final fitting today. Everyone is waiting for you.” I stared at the urn in the staff member’s hands and spoke softly: “My grandma passed away.” Silence fell over the other end of the line for a few seconds. I thought he would at least ask how she died. But when Ethan spoke again, his voice held nothing but impatience. “Chloe, I know you’re still mad about Hailey.” “But no matter how angry you are, you shouldn’t lie about your grandma’s death.” “She was perfectly fine two days ago. How could she suddenly pass away?” “Since when did you become so petty?” I parted my lips, but I didn’t know how to explain. Hailey’s sweet, whiny voice drifted through the receiver. “Professor Vance, is Chloe still mad at me?” “Maybe I shouldn’t help her try on the dress anymore.” Ethan’s tone immediately softened. “Don’t worry about her.” “She’s just being petty, trying to scare me with her grandma.” “You two are about the same size. Try it on for her first.” “If anything doesn’t fit, they can alter it now.” Hailey giggled softly. “But won’t Chloe find it gross to wear it after me?” Ethan replied nonchalantly: “She’s not that dramatic.” “She can just wear it directly tomorrow at the wedding.” The call was disconnected. The staff member happened to walk over to me. “Ms. Bennett, please sign here to collect the ashes.” “My deepest condolences.” I took the urn. It was very light. The grandma who had carried me for miles on her back, sold vegetables to pay for my school, and stayed by my side for over twenty years was now nothing more than a handful of light ashes. I lowered my head, pressing my face against the cold lid of the urn. Tears fell uncontrollably. I went home and began packing my bags. My grandma didn’t have many belongings. A few old clothes, a wooden comb, and the candies she had hidden under her pillow, too precious to eat. I packed them one by one. As I passed the study, I noticed Ethan’s computer was still on. On the screen was Hailey’s graduation thesis. [A Study on Reward-Based Directive Training for Alzheimer’s Patients.] The folder contained dozens of videos of patients. Some elderly people were asked to repeatedly kneel, while others were lured with food to perform ridiculous actions.

The consent forms beside the videos were all stamped with the hospital’s official seal. But the shaky signatures of the family members were clearly written by the exact same hand. On his Snapchat, there were chat logs between Ethan and Hailey. Hailey had asked: [Professor, what if the patients’ families refuse to sign the consent forms?] Ethan replied: [Take the videos first. I’ll help you falsify the authorization forms and ethical approval later.] [Your thesis defense is the most important thing. Don’t let these procedures slow you down.] It turned out my grandma wasn’t just a toy Hailey had picked out on a whim. She had already humiliated many helpless elderly patients in the exact same way. And Ethan had known all along. He had even personally covered up everything for her. I copied all the forged authorization forms, video files, and chat logs. Along with my grandma’s medical records, death certificate, and the video circulating online, I packed them all into an envelope. I addressed it to the hospital’s ethics committee and the university’s board of directors. After mailing the report, I placed my engagement ring and house keys on the dining table. Then, holding my grandma’s urn, I dragged my suitcase to the airport. I had bought two tickets. One for me. One for my grandma. Now, she was still flying to London with me. She just couldn’t sit in the seat I had booked for her. As the plane took off, the city lights slowly disappeared beneath the clouds. Tomorrow was supposed to be my wedding day. Ethan probably still thought that as long as he stood at the altar, I would definitely show up. After a twelve-hour flight and layover, I finally arrived. The moment I turned on my phone, missed calls flooded in. The bridal shop, the wedding planner, the hospital’s disciplinary board. And Ethan. Ninety-nine missed calls in total. The last message was sent by him ten minutes ago. [Chloe, the ceremony is about to start.] [Where on earth are you?] I stared at that message for a long time before finally picking up his next call. Ethan’s voice immediately blasted through the receiver. “Chloe, you finally picked up.” “The wedding starts in fifteen minutes. Where the hell are you?” His voice was anxious, but there was no genuine worry in it. It wasn’t until the airport PA announcement echoed behind me that he suddenly fell silent. His breath hitched. “You went abroad?” “Book the next flight back right now.” “I won’t hold it against you that you tried to cancel the wedding. As long as you come back now, we still have time to rearrange the schedule.” He was still the same. With just a casual “I won’t hold it against you,” he assumed I would gratefully crawl back to him. I looked down and touched the urn in my lap. “My grandma is dead. I’m not coming back.” Ethan’s tone turned ice-cold. “Are you trying to use your grandma to lie to me again?” “Chloe, this joke isn’t funny at all.” I didn’t bother to explain. I just took a photo of my grandma’s death certificate and her suicide note, and sent them to him. After the photos were successfully sent, only heavy, ragged breathing remained on the other end of the line. It took a long time before Ethan asked in a cracked voice: “What… what is this?” “Haven’t you already seen it?” “I don’t believe it.” “She was fine just a few days ago.” “She only scraped her knee. How could she suddenly…” I cut him off. “She saw the video Hailey posted online.” “She saw herself crawling on the floor like a dog, and she saw everyone mocking her.” “She swallowed every single pill we had in the house.”

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