Author: Momo Chan

After Mom divorced Dad—who was always “too busy” to be home—life got tough. She adopted the “calm and collected” persona. Never fought for anything, never raised her voice. The neighbors all said she was a saint. So, I became her mouthpiece. The things she “couldn’t” say, I said. The people she was “too polite” to offend, I cursed out. The neighbors all whispered that I was petty and rude, nothing like my saintly mother. Then one day, a local drunk tried to assault her. Mom was putting up a desperate fight. Without thinking, I grabbed a glass bottle and smashed it over his head, saving her. I ran to the stairwell to call for help, but Mom shoved me from behind. I tumbled down the stairs, spine shattering against the concrete steps. Paralyzed from the neck down. It turned out her “desperate fight” was just foreplay. It turned out the drunk was her high school crush, the bad boy she never got over. They moved in together immediately. One afternoon, I woke up from a nap because the bed was shaking. I opened my eyes to see the drunk on top of me. I wanted to fight, but my body wouldn’t move. In a panic, I screamed for Mom. But then I saw her peeking through the doorway. Her eyes weren’t filled with horror, but with jealousy. Despair swallowed me whole. I bit my tongue off, but I didn’t die. So I starved myself. That finally did it. Mom shook her head, sighing with fake pity. “I told you not to be so hot-tempered. You should be calm like a chrysanthemum. Now look, you’ve lost your life.” When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the divorce. My parents asked me: “Who do you want to live with?” I chose Mom, of course. I have a debt to repay for her “great kindness.” 1 “Nina, who do you choose?” Mom asked, calm and confident as always. Dad looked devastated, but a glimmer of unrealistic hope still shone in his eyes. He pleaded silently. I buried the hatred deep in my eyes. “I choose… actually, let me use the bathroom first. You guys discuss the other stuff!” I pulled out my cracked phone—Mom’s hand-me-down—and texted Dad: [Dad, I want to live with you, but I’m going to choose Mom. Please don’t be sad. I’ll come back to you soon. Delete this after reading.] I flushed the toilet and walked out. Dad looked like a new man. The despair was gone, replaced by a rosy glow of vitality. I never realized how much my choice in my past life had destroyed him. Mom shot him a look of disdain and started her PUA routine: “Guess I wasted my time. Can’t wait to go meet your little mistress before the ink is even dry, huh?” 2 The “mistress” Mom referred to was Aunt Diane, Dad’s childhood friend. She had pursued him once, but Dad was already in love with Mom. Dad, being the honest idiot he was, told Mom everything. Back then, Mom just laughed it off. Proud as a peacock, she wouldn’t deign to be jealous of a “country bumpkin.” Now that she wanted a divorce, she suddenly cared about Aunt Diane, painting Dad as morally bankrupt. But in my past life, it was this “country bumpkin” who brought me food and water after I was paralyzed. Dad argued back, face red, but Mom just crossed her arms and said coolly, “See? I hit a nerve. Why else would you react so strongly?” Dad was clumsy with words. Every time he tried to defend himself—”I haven’t even spoken to her in years!”—Mom would cut him off with a breezy, “I don’t believe you. Don’t bother explaining.” “I didn’t do it!” Dad shouted again, but this time, his voice was firm. Because he knew his daughter believed him. 3 In my last life, Dad gave Mom the house and most of his savings because he was afraid I’d suffer. He left with almost nothing. Mom accepted it all calmly, as if she were doing him a favor. “He gave it willingly,” she’d say. I suspect she had been badmouthing Dad to me for years, using the “evil stepmother” trope to scare me into choosing her, all to secure his assets. The irony is, I believed her lies, chose her, and walked straight into hell. “You want to eat? Make it yourself. Girls need to be independent. Go wash the dishes!” She’d push dirty plates at me—leftovers from her delicious stir-fry while I stared at my bowl of plain white rice. When I lived with Dad, he never let me touch dish soap, saying it would ruin my hands. “Just study,” he’d say. With Mom, even adding an egg to my instant noodles was a crime. “I need that for breakfast tomorrow. Why are you so greedy?” She canceled my piano lessons immediately. “You have no talent. Why waste the teacher’s time?” 4 “Nina, hurry up. Me or your dad?” Mom stared at me intensely. I didn’t disappoint her. “I choose Mom.” Mom smiled, a victory lap in her eyes. “Jack, she made her choice. Now let’s talk assets.” I almost laughed looking at the divorce agreement she drafted. It left Dad with nothing. This was my “saintly” mother. In my past life, she used me as a weapon. This life, I’m aiming that weapon right back at her. “Mom, if Dad gives us the house, where will he live? We can go to Grandma’s, but he’ll be homeless! He just lost me, now he loses his home? That’s so sad!” Mom’s face twisted. Her “thoughtful little jacket” was suddenly letting in a draft. She stammered, trying to maintain her persona. “Well… I didn’t really want this dump, it’s just closer to your school.” I cut off her retreat. “Oh, Mom, Grandma’s house is only a few minutes further by bus. It’s fine.” Mom’s face went dark. “I… I’m doing this for you!” I smiled, showing all my teeth. “Don’t worry, Mom! I have a conscience, just like you taught me. I wouldn’t let Dad be homeless just to save five minutes on a bus ride!” Mom’s face cycled through colors like a broken traffic light. 5 With no other choice, she glared at me and changed the agreement. Dad kept the house, but he had to pay her $60,000. They both signed. The divorce cooling-off period was over, so the paperwork went through fast. They got their divorce certificates. Mom let out a huge breath. She had been terrified Dad would back out. “Transfer the $60,000 to my account,” Mom said, her “calm” facade cracking with greed. “Mom, what’s the rush? Let’s transfer the house title to Dad first.” Mom frowned but went along with it. A few days later, the title transfer was done. “Now transfer the money!” Mom’s patience was gone. “Didn’t you lend your brother $80,000?” Dad said coldly. “You keep $60,000 of that debt. Transfer the remaining $20,000 to me. Here’s my account number.” This was the script Dad and I rehearsed. Mom’s brain short-circuited. The math was simple: Assets were split. The $80,000 loan was a marital asset. Dad was owed half. Mom: ??? “Jack, what do you mean? You’re not paying me, and I owe you $10,000? You tricked me?!” Her “calm” persona shattered into a screech. Dad looked innocent. “I didn’t trick you. Just stating facts.” “You know my brother used that money for a house! He can’t pay it back now! How am I supposed to live?!” “How you live is none of my business. You knew he couldn’t pay it back, so why did you lend it?” 6 Dad was a steelworker. Hard labor, long hours, living on-site. Mom called it “never being home.” Years of sun and sweat made his skin rough and dark. Mom, pampered with skincare products paid for by him, looked young and fresh. The work was brutal, but the pay was good. Dad handed every paycheck to Mom. After expenses and mortgage, they had saved $80,000 in eight years. Then my uncle needed a house and a dowry. Grandma called, spun a sob story, and Mom—saint that she was—wired him the entire savings. When Dad found out, he nearly had a stroke. Mom just said, “Money is worldly. Helping my brother is a good deed.” Dad literally coughed blood and passed out. When he woke up in the hospital, he realized Mom wasn’t a partner. From then on, he stopped giving her his savings. Just a fixed allowance. Mom knew she messed up, but she refused to apologize. She just endured the budget cuts. Life was quiet until Mom met Steve. 7 We were at a noodle shop one day. A middle-aged man across from us poured half a bottle of liquor into his noodles, slurping loudly. The owner came over. “Sir, no alcohol allowed here. Please respect the rules.” “I paid! I’ll drink if I want!” The man yelled. The argument caught Mom’s attention. “Steve?” “Jen? Cough… is that you?” Steve’s voice turned instantly gentle, trying to hide his drunken crudeness. He was slightly chubby, dressed in a cheap suit, with soft hands that had never seen a day of hard work. “Sorry owner, I won’t drink.” Steve tried to eat his boozy noodles. The owner took the bowl away. “No alcohol means no alcohol.” Steve’s face darkened, but he forced a smile. “Fine, bring me a fresh bowl.” “Jen, is this your daughter?” Steve looked at me. Mom looked uncomfortable, tucking hair behind her ear. “Yes.” I got the feeling she didn’t want to admit I was hers. “Time flies! She’s so big now.” Steve gave me a “kind uncle” smile, but his eyes were greedy. He kept glancing at me while talking to Mom. I felt like bugs were crawling on my skin. I ate fast. “Mom, I’m done. You hurry up, I have homework.” Mom scowled. “Leave if you’re done. Interrupting adults is rude. Who did you get that rash personality from?” I ran out. Looking back, Mom and Steve had probably been hooking up long before the divorce. Poor Dad was clueless.

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In my past life, when my wife and her high school sweetheart—her “white moonlight”—were both rushed into the ER after a car accident, I saved my wife first. She survived without a scratch. Her lover, however, lost his legs because his treatment was delayed. He killed himself shortly after. My wife hated me to the bone. She screamed that I murdered him. To get revenge, she tampered with my car. When I drove our son to school, the brakes failed. We both died. When I opened my eyes again, I was back in the ER. My wife was lying on a stretcher, struggling, screaming at me to save her lover first. I knew then: she was reborn too. Fine. Since she wants it so badly, I’ll grant her wish. But later, when she knelt before me begging for forgiveness… well, that’s another story. 1 “David! Don’t save me! Save Julian first! You have to save Julian!” My wife, Claire, stared at me with intense, desperate eyes. In that moment, I knew. She came back too. She was reborn to the night she snuck out to meet her lover and crashed the car. In my last life, when Claire and Julian were wheeled in simultaneously, I was devastated. If not for the accident, I wouldn’t have known my wife had been cheating on me for years. But even then, seeing her in pain, my duty as a doctor kicked in. I was the only attending trauma surgeon on shift at that ungodly hour. I chose to operate on Claire. Julian had to wait for another surgeon to arrive. He missed the golden window for reattachment. It seems in this life, she wants to rewrite the script. I remembered the venom in her eyes in our past life. I remembered how she took her anger out on our son, Leo, making him tremble in fear. I remembered the scream Leo let out when our car crashed, the pain that seared my soul. My chest felt heavy, like a beast was clawing to get out. Since she wants to save her lover so badly… I’ll grant her wish. I just hope she doesn’t regret it. I nodded at her. Her face lit up with hope. “Thank God! He’s saved! He’s saved!” 2 I saved Julian. His legs, lost in the previous timeline, were preserved. But my wife? Not so lucky. Because she missed the critical window, she lost an arm. When I walked into the recovery room, my in-laws’ faces were dark as thunderclouds. “David! Did a donkey kick you in the head? Claire is your wife! You left her to rot and saved some stranger?” My mother-in-law screamed, pointing a finger in my face. My father-in-law joined in, cursing me for being incompetent. I stared at them blankly. It was laughable. My family was well-off. I graduated from a top med school and was a rising star in the hospital. Claire’s family? Her dad was a gambler drowning in debt. Claire didn’t work. My mom raised our kid. For years, I subsidized her family so she could live like a princess. Yet her parents never respected me. They always made snide comments, implying that without me, Claire would have married Julian, the rich boy. Yeah, right. Did she not want to marry him? Or did Julian just think she wasn’t good enough? I didn’t try to placate them like I used to. I said coldly, “Claire demanded I save Julian first. Not my fault. Also, she was in the car with him at 2 AM. You figure it out.” My in-laws froze, awkward silence filling the room. Claire lay on the bed. Instead of grieving her lost arm, she was smiling. “Mom, Dad, I’m fine. I lost an arm, but I saved Julian’s life.” I sneered internally. True love, huh? She always complained I didn’t give her enough. But for him, she gave an arm. Before, this would have broken my heart. Now? I felt nothing. From the moment she killed me and Leo, she was dead to me. “Mom, Dad, David… since you’re all here, I have an announcement.” She looked at me, serious. “David, after Julian and I are discharged, let’s get a divorce.” 3 My in-laws were stunned. But I knew exactly what she was thinking. She wanted to chase her happiness properly this time. In her past life, she constantly whined that if she had been there for Julian, he wouldn’t have committed suicide. She thought she was his savior. His light. I looked at her, amused. In this life, she’s disabled. Will the rich playboy Julian still see her as his light? I chuckled and agreed immediately. “Sure.” I want to see if her fairytale comes true. My quick agreement caught her off guard. She looked annoyed. “David, you’re agreeing so fast because I lost an arm, right? You think I’m damaged goods? Julian isn’t cold-blooded like you. I knew divorcing you was the right choice!” I nodded. “I hope so.” I turned to leave. She shouted at my back, “Just wait and see! Julian stayed single all these years for me. Once I’m divorced, he’ll definitely marry me!” Her parents heard this and started laughing excitedly, asking if she was serious about marrying into money. A few days later, once Claire could move, she practically lived in Julian’s ward. I heard Julian was “deeply moved” and swore to treat her well forever. Claire cried tears of joy and even came to brag to me. My colleagues whispered about her shamelessness, but she didn’t care. 4 My parents urged me to reconsider for Leo’s sake. But I was firm. A woman who could kill her own child for a man? She doesn’t deserve to be a mother. On the day we went to the courthouse, Julian’s driver brought them. Claire leaned into Julian’s embrace, smiling like a newlywed. Julian carried her purse, acting the perfect gentleman. “David, see? I’m better off without you.” Her eyes were triumphant. She wanted to hurt me. I just smiled politely. My indifference enraged her. “David, if Julian hadn’t been blocked by his family back then, I wouldn’t have married you out of spite. Do you really think a toad like you deserves swan meat like me?” I frowned at her ugly expression. She was hideous now. Why did I ever love her? I felt pathetic for my past self. “Fine. Since you got what you wanted, congratulations.” I walked away, ignoring her. She probably thought I fled in shame. 5 Articles about Claire started popping up online. “High School Sweethearts Reunited by Tragedy.” “Woman Sacrifices Arm to Save First Love.” Netizens called it “God-tier Romance.” My intern, Lily, was furious. She almost threw her phone. “God-tier romance my ass! Not a word about her cheating on her husband!” She looked at me, embarrassed. “Sorry, Dr. Evans. I just got mad. I didn’t mean to bring it up.” I looked at Lily’s flushed face and shook my head. “It’s okay.” I knew Claire planted those articles. According to her, Julian’s parents were the only reason they didn’t marry before. She was using public opinion to pressure his family. She branded herself as his “Savior.” She figured the wealthy parents would be moved by her sacrifice. She figured Julian loved her enough to fight for her. I laughed at her naivety. She didn’t understand men like Julian. If he truly loved her, he wouldn’t have given up so easily back then. He didn’t marry her when she was whole and beautiful. Now she’s a divorcee with a kid and one arm. She wouldn’t even make the cut as a mistress, let alone a wife. And rich families? They don’t accept “damaged goods.” She lived two lives and still didn’t get it. Sure enough, a few days later, all the articles vanished. Scrubbed from the internet. 6 After the divorce, Claire kept sending me photos. Holding hands with Julian. Julian carrying her. She was trying to make me jealous. But after a month, the messages stopped. I guessed her “happiness” had expired.

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I was the long-lost “True Heiress” returning home, expecting a dramatic scene of sorting out who belonged where. Instead, my family was fiercely protective of the “Fake Heiress.” Mom and Dad hemmed and hawed: “You don’t understand… it’s just not convenient for Chloe to leave us.” My brother was equally vague: “Chloe isn’t like other girls. You’ll get it when you meet her.” My brain instantly conjured an image of a delicate, fragile white lotus flower. My heart sank. Then the door burst open. A girl as agile as a falcon slammed her hand on the table and cupped her fist in a martial arts salute: “Sister! I’ve occupied your nest for so many years. I have no way to repay you, so I hereby return all the spicy, numbing flavor of these years to you!” With that, she lowered her head and swallowed a bowl full of ghost peppers and Sichuan peppercorns whole! She choked so hard her eyes rolled back. Instantly, I understood my parents’ and brother’s hesitation. This wasn’t a white lotus. This was a total idiot! 1 Mom and Dad rushed over, one handing her water, the other patting her back. “Oh my god, you big dummy! Your sister just got home, she’s not ready for this level of crazy! Don’t scare her!” Chloe, tears and snot streaming down her face from the spice, wailed loudly: “I just feel so bad thinking about how I enjoyed all the good life meant for my sister!” “Why did I get all the good stuff? I have to torture myself a little, or I can’t let this go!” My brother, Jason, patted my shoulder like this was normal. “See? I told you Chloe isn’t like other girls. Now you get it?” “With a brain like hers, if she left the family, she’d probably cause a national incident.” I looked at the energetic Chloe and felt an inexplicable warmth. Seeing she was about to swallow more raw peppers, I quickly interrupted: “Wait a second. Who said I had a bad life?” The wailing stopped abruptly. Chloe looked at me suspiciously. “Look at your skinny frame—” I sighed. “I have a high metabolism. I can’t gain weight no matter what I eat.” “My parents—oh, wait, your parents—always tried to fatten me up, but my body just wouldn’t cooperate.” Mom looked at her own slender figure and nodded in agreement. “This child takes after me.” Chloe looked at me with teary eyes. “But Jason said your parents—I mean, my parents—didn’t even come to see you off—” I laughed. “Dad is leading his team at an international competition, and Mom has a critical surgery. Neither of them could get away.” “They really wanted to see you and told me to get along with you.” Chloe’s eyes lit up, and she grabbed my hands. “Really? What are our parents like? Do you have photos? Tell me everything!” I pulled out my phone. The wallpaper was a family photo. “This is Dad,” I pointed to a huge, muscular man. “He’s an MMA coach, currently leading a team abroad.” Chloe gasped. “No wonder I’ve always loved fighting! It’s genetic!” I pointed to the tall, cool woman. “This is Mom. She’s an amazing doctor. When she was young, she saved so many lives during the big earthquake!” “Legend has it they met when Dad stopped a patient from attacking Mom at the hospital. Dad got hurt, Mom stitched him up, and it was love at first sight.” Chloe was shocked. “Huh? Isn’t Dad an MMA coach? How did he get hurt?” I kept a straight face. “…He gripped too hard and got glass shards in his hand.” The whole table burst out laughing. In the center of the photo, being hugged by them, was a delicate girl like a porcelain doll. Though I looked nothing like them, our smiles were equally bright. That was me, Sarah Xu. 2 I knew early on I wasn’t my parents’ biological daughter. When I was little, neighbors gossiped that I didn’t look like my parents at all, suggesting I was picked up from the trash. Dad got furious, shouting at them: “How do we not look alike? My wife has big, bright eyes, my daughter has big, bright eyes. It’s your eyes that are small and blind! Bah!” Mom scolded him for being rude, then covered my ears while yelling back: “Ever heard of recessive genes? Uneducated gossips! Whoever talks trash in front of my Sarah again, don’t come begging me for hospital appointments later!” From then on, no one dared to gossip in front of me. But as time went on, the differences grew. Mom and Dad loved heavy, spicy flavors; I preferred bland food. Dad was a tower of a man, Mom was tall and statuesque, but despite drinking milk like water, I capped out at 5’4″. I was naturally small-boned and frail. Skin tone, hair color, eye color… The doubts piled up. As a doctor, Mom sensed something was wrong but refused to believe it. Until the school physical, when I had my blood type tested for the first time. I held Mom’s trembling hand and said calmly: “Mom, I’m not your biological child, am I?” Mom’s eyes reddened, and she hugged me tight. “It must be a mistake. The test is wrong. You are our baby…” I held her hand back and whispered, “It’s okay. Even if I’m not your biological daughter, I love you.” “But I can’t selfishly take the love meant for another child. Before it’s too late.” “Take me for a DNA test, Mom.” Much later, I found out the other side of the story. Around the same time, the Gao family received their blood test results and realized their child might have been switched. They were agonizing over whether to tell their daughter. Jason happened to be watching a soap opera. “Haha, this show is so melodramatic. Switched at birth in this day and age?” Chloe chimed in: “Right? Like, don’t you know if your kid looks like you? Hilarious.” The Gao family members were all elegant and refined. Except Chloe. She was tall, athletic, and walked like she owned the place. A total tomboy. Chloe slapped her thigh. “Like me and my brother. Obviously biological siblings. He’s six feet, I’m six feet. Could that be a coincidence if we weren’t related?” Even Jason paused. Sis, is it possible that biological siblings… shouldn’t be the exact same height??? … Anyway, both families worked together, and finally, at age 16, we found each other. Back then, during the massive earthquake in Jiang City, Mom insisted on returning to the hospital to save lives despite being pregnant. Dad couldn’t stop her, so he went to help and protect her. Due to exhaustion, Mom went into premature labor. Coincidentally, Mrs. Gao, who was there donating supplies, also went into labor. In the chaos, the babies were swapped. According to the birth times, I was born five minutes before Chloe, making me the older sister. When the Gao family came to pick me up, my parents were away on business. I thought about it, left them a note, and went with the Gaos. I really wanted to see this sister I had never met. On the phone, when Chloe heard I was coming alone, she imagined some tragic scenario and started wailing. Which led to the chaotic scene at the beginning. 3 With the misunderstanding cleared up, Chloe looked at me with teary eyes, patting her chest. “Thank god. If your life was actually like those novels, I would have had to commit seppuku to apologize!” Her crybaby act was exactly like Dad’s. I stood on my tiptoes, patted her head, and comforted her: “Don’t worry, we both have the best families in the world.” She sniffled, looked back at the doting Gao family, and nodded vigorously. “Yeah, we’re so lucky to have the best moms and dads.” Jason leaned in with a dark face. Chloe quickly added: “And the best brother in the world!” Everyone laughed. The Gaos had prepared a feast. Near me were my favorite light dishes; near Chloe were spicy, heavy dishes. Mrs. Gao looked at me lovingly: “Your parents told us these are your favorites. Try them.” Jason made a fake pained face: “Chloe is addicted to spice. She dragged me into eating heavy flavors all these years. Thanks to you, I can finally eat normal food again.” Mr. Gao rolled his eyes at him, then pointed to a courier box by the door: “And your favorite snacks, all prepared according to their instructions.” My heart warmed. Chloe’s eyes sparkled: “Let me try a bite! Just one bite!” Jason poked her forehead, laughing: “You glutton.” 4 After dinner, Mrs. Gao took me to my room. It was next to Chloe’s, a bright suite decorated warmly. “Your parents said you have sensitive skin, so we washed all the bedding. It should be comfortable.” “Let us know if you need anything. This is your home, Sarah.” “Rest well. Tomorrow, Chloe will take you to register at the new school.” Both sets of parents agreed that since the Xus were busy, and the education in the capital was better, we should both stay here for school. The Xus would visit when they finished work. I nodded and whispered, “Thank you.” “…Mom.” Her eyes instantly reddened, tears of joy falling. “Oh! My good daughter.” That night, there was a gentle knock on my door. “Sis, are you asleep?” “Sis, are you scared of the dark? Do you want me to sleep with you?” I opened the door. Chloe darted in like a ferret. “Hehe, we’re sisters. Sisters should sleep together.” “I’ll be your security blanket.” I was confused. “Where did you hear that term?” Chunibyo Chloe said confidently: “That’s how it works in anime.” I facepalmed. We slept soundly.

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After my mom divorced my dad—who was always “too busy” to be home—life got tough. She adopted the “calm and collected” persona. Never fought for anything, never raised her voice. The neighbors all said she was a saint. So, I became her mouthpiece. The things she “couldn’t” say, I said. The people she was “too polite” to offend, I cursed out. The neighbors all whispered that I was petty and rude, nothing like my saintly mother. Then one day, a local drunk tried to assault her. Mom was putting up a desperate fight. Without thinking, I grabbed a glass bottle and smashed it over his head, saving her. I ran to the stairwell to call for help, but Mom shoved me from behind. I tumbled down the stairs, my spine shattering against the concrete steps. Paralyzed from the neck down. It turned out her “desperate fight” was just foreplay. It turned out the drunk was her high school crush, the bad boy she never got over. They moved in together immediately. One afternoon, I woke up from a nap because the bed was shaking. I opened my eyes to see the drunk on top of me. I wanted to fight, but my body wouldn’t move. In a panic, I screamed for Mom. But then I saw her peeking through the doorway. Her eyes weren’t filled with horror, but with jealousy. Despair swallowed me whole. I bit my tongue off, but I didn’t die. So I starved myself. That finally did it. Mom shook her head, sighing with fake pity. “I told you not to be so hot-tempered. You should be calm like a chrysanthemum. Now look, you’ve lost your life.” When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the divorce. My parents asked me: “Who do you want to live with?” I chose Mom, of course. I have a debt to repay for her “great kindness.” 1 “Nina, who do you choose?” Mom asked, calm and confident as always. Dad looked devastated, but a glimmer of unrealistic hope still shone in his eyes. He pleaded silently. I buried the hatred deep in my eyes. “I choose… actually, let me use the bathroom first. You guys discuss the other stuff!” I pulled out my cracked phone—Mom’s hand-me-down—and texted Dad: [Dad, I want to live with you, but I’m going to choose Mom. Please don’t be sad. I’ll come back to you soon. Delete this after reading.] I flushed the toilet and walked out. Dad looked like a new man. The despair was gone, replaced by a rosy glow of vitality. I never realized how much my choice in my past life had destroyed him. Mom shot him a look of disdain and started her guilt-tripping routine: “Guess I wasted my time. Can’t wait to go meet your little mistress before the ink is even dry, huh?” 2 The “mistress” Mom referred to was Aunt Diane, Dad’s childhood friend. She had pursued him once, but Dad was already in love with Mom. Dad, being the honest idiot he was, told Mom everything. Back then, Mom just laughed it off. Proud as a peacock, she wouldn’t deign to be jealous of a “country bumpkin.” Now that she wanted a divorce, she suddenly cared about Aunt Diane, painting Dad as morally bankrupt. But in my past life, it was this “country bumpkin” who brought me food and water after I was paralyzed. Dad argued back, face red, but Mom just crossed her arms and said coolly, “See? I hit a nerve. Why else would you react so strongly?” Dad was clumsy with words. Every time he tried to defend himself—”I haven’t even spoken to her in years!”—Mom would cut him off with a breezy, “I don’t believe you. Don’t bother explaining.” “I didn’t do it!” Dad shouted again, but this time, his voice was firm. Because he knew his daughter believed him. 3 In my last life, Dad gave Mom the house and most of his savings because he was afraid I’d suffer. He left with almost nothing. Mom accepted it all calmly, as if she were doing him a favor. “He gave it willingly,” she’d say. I suspect she had been badmouthing Dad to me for years, using the “evil stepmother” trope to scare me into choosing her, all to secure his assets. The irony is, I believed her lies, chose her, and walked straight into hell. “You want to eat? Make it yourself. Girls need to be independent. Go wash the dishes!” She’d push dirty plates at me—leftovers from her delicious stir-fry while I stared at my bowl of plain white rice. When I lived with Dad, he never let me touch dish soap, saying it would ruin my hands. “Just study,” he’d say. With Mom, even adding an egg to my instant noodles was a crime. “I need that for breakfast tomorrow. Why are you so greedy?” She canceled my piano lessons immediately. “You have no talent. Why waste the teacher’s time?” 4 “Nina, hurry up. Me or your dad?” Mom stared at me intensely. I didn’t disappoint her. “I choose Mom.” Mom smiled, a victory lap in her eyes. “Jack, she made her choice. Now let’s talk assets.” I almost laughed looking at the divorce agreement she drafted. It left Dad with nothing. This was my “saintly” mother. In my past life, she used me as a weapon. This life, I’m aiming that weapon right back at her. “Mom, if Dad gives us the house, where will he live? We can go to Grandma’s, but he’ll be homeless! He just lost me, now he loses his home? That’s so sad!” Mom’s face twisted. Her “thoughtful little jacket” was suddenly letting in a draft. She stammered, trying to maintain her persona. “Well… I didn’t really want this dump, it’s just closer to your school.” I cut off her retreat. “Oh, Mom, Grandma’s house is only a few minutes further by bus. It’s fine.” Mom’s face went dark. “I… I’m doing this for you!” I smiled, showing all my teeth. “Don’t worry, Mom! I have a conscience, just like you taught me. I wouldn’t let Dad be homeless just to save five minutes on a bus ride!” Mom’s face cycled through colors like a broken traffic light. 5 With no other choice, she glared at me and changed the agreement. Dad kept the house, but he had to pay her $60,000. They both signed. The divorce cooling-off period was over, so the paperwork went through fast. They got their divorce certificates. Mom let out a huge breath. She had been terrified Dad would back out. “Transfer the $60,000 to my account,” Mom said, her “calm” facade cracking with greed. “Mom, what’s the rush? Let’s transfer the house title to Dad first.” Mom frowned but went along with it. A few days later, the title transfer was done. “Now transfer the money!” Mom’s patience was gone. “Didn’t you lend your brother $80,000?” Dad said coldly. “You keep $60,000 of that debt. Transfer the remaining $20,000 to me. Here’s my account number.” This was the script Dad and I rehearsed. Mom’s brain short-circuited. The math was simple: Assets were split. The $80,000 loan was a marital asset. Dad was owed half. Mom: ??? “Jack, what do you mean? You’re not paying me, and I owe you $10,000? You tricked me?!” Her “calm” persona shattered into a screech. Dad looked innocent. “I didn’t trick you. Just stating facts.” “You know my brother used that money for a house! He can’t pay it back now! How am I supposed to live?!” “How you live is none of my business. You knew he couldn’t pay it back, so why did you lend it?” 6 Dad was a steelworker. Hard labor, long hours, living on-site. Mom called it “never being home.” Years of sun and sweat made his skin rough and dark. Mom, pampered with skincare products paid for by him, looked young and fresh. The work was brutal, but the pay was good. Dad handed every paycheck to Mom. After expenses and mortgage, they had saved $80,000 in eight years. Then my uncle needed a house and a dowry. Grandma called, spun a sob story, and Mom—saint that she was—wired him the entire savings. When Dad found out, he nearly had a stroke. Mom just said, “Money is worldly. Helping my brother is a good deed.” Dad literally coughed blood and passed out. When he woke up in the hospital, he realized Mom wasn’t a partner. From then on, he stopped giving her his savings. Just a fixed allowance. Mom knew she messed up, but she refused to apologize. She just endured the budget cuts. Life was quiet until Mom met Steve.

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Because my flight was delayed due to a storm, I missed my son’s birthday party by exactly thirty minutes. In retaliation, Caleb deleted every single research paper on my laptop. My son, Noah, smashed the limited-edition Lego set I had queued for three hours to buy him. Then, the father and son duo slammed the door and stormed out. In that moment, a wave of exhaustion washed over me. Suddenly, floating text comments—like a livestream chat—began scrolling across my vision. [Honestly, this is on the Female Lead. She promised these two possessive kings she’d be back on time. Being late triggers their abandonment issues.] [She better open that door and apologize to those poor boys right now! They even had the Polaroid ready for a cute family pic. She ruined the vibe.] [It just shows how much the Male Lead loves her. The kid clearly inherited his dad’s genes. She needs to be more patient and coax them!] [I’m melting for this father-son duo. Both the big one and the little one treat her like she’s their whole world. I stan!] [Omg, my baby boy’s eyes are red! This is so angsty! Auntie is coming with a colorful sack to kidnap you, boo-hoo!] I let out a soft sigh and started walking toward the door. Suddenly, the door swung open. Caleb looked at me with ice-cold eyes. “Since you love your job so much, maybe we should just get a divorce.” Noah stood in the hallway, refusing to step inside, his face void of emotion. “I hate you. I’m going with Daddy.” My breath hitched, a dull ache spreading through my chest. “Okay.” 1 My answer was a simple “okay,” but Caleb didn’t seem satisfied. If anything, he looked angrier. He kicked the suitcase I had just dragged in, grabbed Noah’s hand, and marched into the elevator without looking back. I walked into the bedroom and started packing. The floating comments went wild. [Let me in there! I need to explain for him! This Male Lead has zero communication skills. He just wanted her to go to dinner with them. Would it kill him to speak nicely?] [You can’t blame him! Remember he was abused by his alcoholic stepdad in high school? He only survived because the Female Lead saved him. He’s insecure! It’s normal for him to be afraid of losing her.] [Don’t worry guys, she won’t leave. These are the two men she loves most. Plus, if she leaves, the Male Lead literally won’t survive.] [She needs to go into the kitchen right now, cook an 8-course meal, and make a dozen phone calls to apologize. ASAP.] … I ignored the floating text. I continued packing while dialing my law school classmate’s number. I had lost count of how many times Caleb used Noah to stage these tantrums. The word “divorce” had become a punctuation mark in our daily lives. They would intentionally refuse to eat the dinner I cooked after a long shift. They would pour the warm milk I prepared down the sink. Once, Caleb even turned off my phone alarm, despite me emphasizing that I had a critical surgery the next morning. When I confronted him, he hugged Noah and looked at me with puppy-dog eyes. “He’s just a child. He just wanted his mom to stay home on a weekend.” I rushed to the hospital, glaring at him. “He didn’t know, but did you not know?” My phone had a passcode. Noah hadn’t even learned all his numbers yet. That night, when I came home, my luggage was thrown out into the hallway. Clean clothes from the closet, cosmetics from the vanity, medical books from the study… all in a heap. Noah blocked the doorway, crying and screaming, refusing to let me in. He said I was the worst mother in the world and that he wanted Auntie Chloe to be his mom. After six back-to-back surgeries, I was physically shattered. I crouched down, coaxing him patiently. “Let Mommy in first, okay? Mommy hasn’t eaten all day…” Bang. Caleb slammed the door in my face. They changed the passcode. I was locked out. When my best friend, Jess, came to pick me up, I was sitting amidst a pile of clothes, looking like a wreck. She pulled me up, furious. “There are plenty of guys who would kill to be with you, Lyra! Why are you taking this trash from him? I’m setting you up with ten high-quality men right now. What the hell is this?” That night, Caleb stood outside Jess’s door, holding a shivering Noah. It was a bitter winter night in Seattle. The wind cut like knives. Caleb knelt before me, eyes red, repenting. “Lyra, I’m sorry. I just love you too much. I don’t know why I lose control…” “You know that apart from you, no one in this world can tolerate my temper.” “You know that if you just coax me a little, my anger disappears.” Noah’s face was blue from the cold. He reached out to me. “Mommy, hug. Hug Noah. Noah won’t make Mommy angry anymore.” One was the man I had loved since high school. The other was the child I nearly died birthing. No one knew them better than I did. So, I chose to forgive. But the peace never lasted. Caleb continued to explode whenever things didn’t go his way. Sometimes a few soft words fixed it. Sometimes, like today, he threatened divorce. As Noah grew older, his personality began to mirror his father’s. And I… I was just tired. This time, I really wanted the divorce. 2 The apartment was filled with traces of me. The tableware in the kitchen, the mugs on the table, the photos on the wall… I had hand-picked everything. I didn’t know where to start packing, so I realized that everything I truly needed was already in the suitcase I had just brought back. I had been in New York at a top-tier hospital for a month-long exchange program. I finished everything at 3 PM today and ran to the airport, suitcase in tow. I even tripped and scraped my knee in the process. But the storm delayed the flight. I was thirty minutes late for Noah’s party. When I arrived, Caleb sat on the couch, face dark, interrogating me. “Why didn’t you buy an earlier ticket? Did you not check the weather?” “Do you even care about Noah? Do you care about me?” “Are we less important to you than a bunch of strangers?” Noah snatched the toy from my hand—the one I stood in line for three hours to get—and smashed it on the floor. Then he stomped on it, crushing the plastic bricks, crushing my heart. “I hate Mommy! You break promises! You’re late! Bad Mom! Bad Mom!” … Waiting for the elevator now, I unlocked my phone. I saw a post from Caleb’s childhood friend, Chloe—the “Auntie Chloe” Noah loved to mention. [Birthday vibes with the little prince! Noah, you have to be happy every day! You too…] Caleb’s devastatingly handsome side profile was caught in the frame. Next to him, Noah, with cream on his nose, was feeding a spoonful of cake to the person taking the photo. They were laughing, playing, and capturing memories. Compared to me… They looked more like a family of three. [Oh no, the Female Lead is definitely misunderstanding… The Male Lead is just forcing a smile. His phone is definitely on loud, waiting for her to call.] [Why does she look actually mad? Don’t torture me! My baby Noah is so young… he’s just more sensitive than other kids.] [Chloe is just a plot device, guys. She’s a test for their relationship. Life isn’t smooth sailing, wake up Female Lead!] [Exactly. Just go find them, apologize properly. This gloomy, possessive man loves you so much, he’ll forgive you.] … I tried calling Caleb. I wanted to tell him Noah had a magnet school interview tomorrow. Divorce is an adult problem; it shouldn’t affect a child’s education. The call connected and was immediately hung up. I called again. Blocked. I called Noah’s phone watch. The background noise was loud. It sounded like a karaoke room. “Caleb, bro, why are you fighting with Lyra again? Aren’t you scared she’ll actually divorce you?” Silence for about three seconds. Then, Caleb scoffed, his voice dripping with arrogance. “Divorce is just a leash I use on Lyra. It works every time.” “You guys know how hard she chased me in high school.” “We’ve been married for years. Every time I’m unhappy, she apologizes like her life depends on it.” “She can’t leave me.” Laughter erupted in the room. “I always wondered why I couldn’t get you even though we grew up together. Turns out, being a simp pays off,” Chloe’s voice chimed in, dismissive. “I didn’t expect Lyra to look so dignified but be such a doormat in private.” “Right? Back then she beat up Caleb’s stepdad for him. A total maniac.” “And when she had Noah, the doctors told her not to, but she risked her life just to ‘give Caleb a family.’ Hahaha!” … I gripped my phone so hard my knuckles turned white. The compromises I thought were sacrifices for love… in Caleb’s eyes, they were just proof of my servitude. He wasn’t acting out because of insecurity. He was acting out because he was entitled. He was certain I couldn’t leave. He thought he had me in the palm of his hand. 3 I rented a serviced apartment on the other side of the city. Fully furnished. Perfect for someone suddenly getting a divorce. The complex was full of young professionals. I remembered back in college, Caleb hated the cafeteria food. He would either starve or eat junk. He had a bad stomach, and he was wasting away. So, I rented a small off-campus kitchen. I cooked for him every day. Med school was brutal. During finals, I barely slept. But I still made three meals a day, begging him to eat. Back then, he ate every bite. Later, he started learning to cook for me. When I was stressed, he’d follow online tutorials to make soup. But after marriage, everything changed. Caleb would trash the meals I spent hours making. He wouldn’t allow me to prioritize anything over him. … It had been a long time since I lived alone. I realized a small one-bedroom apartment could be incredibly tidy. My time after work was mine again. I could eat what I wanted, read what I wanted, sleep when I wanted. I didn’t have to manage anyone else’s emotions. It felt strange, but I liked it. On the third day, a colleague saw me walking slowly to the parking garage. “Not rushing home today? Usually, you’re running before you’ve even changed your shoes.” I smiled. “Yeah. I can take my time now.” My colleague nodded vigorously. “Good! This job is lethal enough. If you have to deal with a mess at home too, it’s just torture.” Yeah. I had endured that torture for six years. Finally, I was free. That night, I got a call from Noah. He was screaming. “Stupid Mommy! Dumb Mommy! Bad Mommy! Why didn’t you take me to the interview?! Sasha got her new uniform and I got nothing!” “I don’t care! Come back and take me to the interview right now!” I paused. When Caleb hung up on me that day, I had texted his best friend, Mark. I explicitly asked Mark to remind Caleb about the interview. Plus, there was a blackboard by the front door where I wrote the month’s schedule. He had to have seen it. I called Mark. He stammered for a while before admitting Caleb hadn’t gone home for days. “I mentioned it to Caleb, but I don’t know if he listened. Plus, it was Noah’s birthday… he wanted to go to Disneyland. Caleb was hesitant, but Chloe convinced him.” “So they went…” “I see,” I said. Mark’s tone shifted to a lecture. “Lyra, honestly. Work is work, family is family. How could you not take him to the interview yourself? Even if Caleb blocked you, you should have double-checked. Noah is your son.” I cut him off. “He is also Caleb’s son.” I never believed parenting was solely the mother’s burden. The interview date was on the blackboard. Visible every single day. Why could I remember, but Caleb—despite reminders—couldn’t? “Lyra, you weren’t like this before. Caleb just cares about you too much, he has a bad mouth but a good heart. Stop fighting with him, come back and fix Noah’s school situation—” I hung up. Blocked. Different values don’t belong at the same table. In the world of crows, the swan is guilty of being white. 4 [It’s over. The Female Lead is actually mad. Being a mom means worrying more, okay? Our Caleb is basically a child himself, how can he take care of a kid?] [Exactly. Whenever the Female Lead is around, the Male Lead’s IQ drops because he trusts her too much. He only blocked her for one night!] [The Male Lead is just awkward and sensitive. If she doesn’t go back to save him, he’s going to close off his heart again. So sad…] [Does she not want her husband or son? You can’t take a child’s tantrums seriously. She’s being selfish.] [Are the people above me insane? Nobody feels bad for her? She has a career and dreams. Why should she revolve around those two idiots?] Exactly. Why should I revolve around him? The meaning of love shouldn’t be “salvation.” It shouldn’t be about my utility to him. It should be about mutual growth. About standing side by side, weathering storms and enjoying the sunshine together. But Caleb… Did you ever want me to grow? In recent years, there wasn’t a single moment where I saw a future for us. … Two days later. The Emergency Room. Seattle was hit by a massive storm. The ER was flooded with car accident victims. I had just finished stabilizing a critical patient when chaos erupted near the nurse’s station. I wiped blood from my scrubs and looked over. It was Caleb and his entourage. Chloe was in a wheelchair. Little Noah stood beside her, pouting, holding her hand tightly. “I’m warning you, treat her right now or I’m calling the superintendent!” “Sir, please, just wait your turn based on the number—” The nurse was trying to reason with him while triaging a patient with a high fever. “Cut the crap! My friend fell down the stairs and her knee is bleeding! Get your best doctor here now!” Caleb interrupted her, arrogant and loud. “Or I’ll make sure you all lose your jobs!” After graduation, Caleb rode the AI wave and government grants to build a tech fortune. He certainly had the connections to make life hard for us grassroots medical workers. I just never thought the boy who came from nothing would one day use his privilege to oppress others. “Dr. Lyra is here!” A nurse spotted me just as she was about to call security. The noise died down instantly. Everyone turned to look at me. Chloe’s expression shifted from calm to agonizing pain in a split second. Caleb glanced at me, his tone commanding. “I demand you treat Chloe immediately. Aren’t you supposed to be ‘dedicated’?” One of his friends looked awkward. “Caleb… we just finished dinner. Chloe missed a step and scraped her knee…” A nurse ran to me. “Dr. Lyra, her vitals are stable. BP is normal. But they want to cut the line.” I checked Chloe’s injury. A scrape. “Hospital policy,” I said professionally. “Only critical patients cut the line. Ms. Xu has no chest pain, no difficulty breathing, and stable vitals. She does not qualify.” “Lyra, is this necessary?” Chloe looked up, tears brimming. “I know you hate me. I’ve been keeping Noah company because he’s sad. I only fell because I was worried he’d run into traffic…” “Ms. Xu, the cause of the injury does not determine triage priority—” “You’re just an old witch! You want to hurt Auntie Chloe!” Noah charged out of nowhere, ramming his head into my stomach. “I won’t let anyone hurt my favorite Auntie Chloe!” I stumbled back, nearly falling. “Noah, come here! We’re changing hospitals.” Caleb scooped Chloe up in his arms and marched toward the exit. “This isn’t the only hospital in town. I’m filing a complaint against everyone here. Including you.” He glared at me coldly. Chloe buried her face in his chest, looking shy and protected. Behind me, the whispers started. “That’s Dr. Lyra’s husband? Zero class.” “Dr. Lyra is so nice, how did she end up with trash like that?” “He seems legally illiterate. I think Dr. Lyra got scammed.” “That kid is her son? Yikes.” I lowered my eyes and smiled bitterly. A heavy weight pressed on my chest. This was the choice I fought for years ago. Now, I was paying the bill. I didn’t regret my decisions. I just needed to reflect on my judgment of character. There was nothing wrong with my sincerity or kindness. The problem wasn’t me. It was Caleb. The floating text returned. [The Female Lead is blind! He’s putting on a show for her! Can’t she see?] [He mentioned divorce to save her face at the hospital! I’m crying for this misunderstood love!] [I hate it when characters don’t communicate! Just apologize! He’ll run back like a puppy!] [Lyra, think about how much he suffered as a kid! Have a heart!] [I’m having a heart attack. Does she really think he likes Chloe? If she just coaxes our Caleb, he won’t look at another woman.] [Are these comments bots? I’m a VIP reader, not an idiot! He needs a slap, not a hug.]

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My dad’s secretary accused me of knocking over her expensive perfume. Dad’s face was cold. “Since the kid messed up, let the mother take the punishment.” He shoved my mom into the giant porcelain jar in the corner of the living room. I stood on my tiptoes, trying to reach the rim, but it was too high. From inside, I heard Mom humming softly, just like she used to when she tucked me in. I cried, slapping the cold ceramic. “Mommy! Cici can’t reach you! Cici is sorry!” “Your mom isn’t coming out to play the victim herself, so she taught you to use a sob story?” Dad sneered. “Fine. Let her stay in there a few more days!” Dad and his secretary laughed in the living room, their glasses clinking together. Ding-ding-dang-dang. It sounded like Mom’s wind chimes. The humming inside the jar got quieter and quieter until all that was left was the sound of dripping. Drip. Drip. Three days later, the police smashed the jar open. Everyone recoiled in horror. Dad walked in, his arm around his secretary’s waist. Her belly was round, like she’d swallowed a beach ball. “Where’s your mother? Still playing the victim?” Dad asked. I looked down at the red puddle at the bottom of the shattered jar and whispered: “Daddy, Mommy broke.” 1 When Grandma and Grandpa came knocking, I was on my knees with a rag, trying to wipe up the red water seeping from the bottom of the jar. Grandma covered her nose. “Cici, where are your parents? Why does it smell so bad in here?” I pointed a small finger at the giant porcelain jar. “Mommy is sleeping in there.” Grandpa’s face turned gray. He walked over, but the moment his hand touched the rim, he yanked it back like he’d been burned. “This jar…” Grandpa’s voice trembled. Grandma snatched me up, her nails digging into my arm. “Who put your mother in there?” “Daddy,” I mumbled, staring at my shoes. “He said Cici was bad, so Mommy had to take responsibility.” Grandpa grabbed a crowbar to pry the lid off. The screws popped one by one—snap, snap—sounding just like when Mom used to unwrap candy for me. When the lid finally came off, Grandma screamed and stumbled backward. I stood on my tiptoes to peek inside. Mom was curled up at the bottom, soaked through, like a ragdoll left out in the rain. Her white dress had turned pink. Her fingers were pruned and wrinkled, and her nails were packed with porcelain shards. “Why isn’t Mommy waking up?” I reached out to touch her. Grandma slapped my hand away and pulled me into a crushing hug. Her heart was beating so fast it hurt my ears. “Oh God… oh God…” Grandpa fell to his knees, retching over the side of the jar. When the police officers arrived, they covered Mom with a white sheet. They asked me questions, but I just stared at the red stain left at the bottom of the jar. “When will Mommy dry out?” I asked the nice officer. “Once the water dries, she’ll wake up, right?” The officer’s eyes turned red. Grandma, hands shaking, dialed Dad’s number. “You animal! Get your ass back here! Your wife…” Dad’s laughter crackled through the phone. “Mom, cut the act. Is Sarah trying to guilt-trip me into coming back? Tell her playing dead won’t work.” In the background, I heard the secretary’s whiny voice: “Ken, baby, I want strawberries…” “Your wife is really dead! She’s in that jar!” Grandpa snatched the phone and roared. “Dad, why are you playing along with her nonsense?” Dad’s voice turned icy. “There are air holes at the bottom. A couple of days won’t kill her. Let her reflect. When she learns to raise our kid right, she can come out.” The line went dead. When the coroner tried to take Mom away, I clung to the jar, refusing to let go. “Don’t take her!” I screamed, tears streaming down my face. “Mommy just needs to dry out! Last time my doll got wet, Mommy used the hairdryer…” Grandma pried my fingers loose. Her tears fell on my face, hot and stinging. “Cici, baby… Mommy… Mommy went to the sky to be a star.” I looked out the window. It wasn’t dark yet. No stars. “Then when is she coming home?” No one answered. A police officer picked up a small bottle from the jar. It had a skull and crossbones on the label. “Preliminary assessment suggests a strong alkaline solution caused…” Grandma lunged for the bottle. “It’s that slut! That’s the perfume she sprays every day!” Grandpa held her back, his eyes bloodshot. “Just wait until that animal gets back…” I crouched on the floor, picking up the porcelain shards that had fallen from Mom’s fingernails. One piece, two pieces, three pieces… If I glue them back together, Mommy will come home, right? 2 The night the relatives took Mom away, Dad finally called back. Grandma answered with red, swollen eyes. Before she could speak, Dad’s impatient voice cut through. “Mom, are you done with the drama?” “Your wife is dead!” Grandma’s voice was raspy. “The coroner said she was suffocated and burned alive…” “Enough.” Dad cut her off. “I was just joking around. I let her out ages ago. She’s hiding because she’s jealous of Jenny, isn’t she?” A woman’s giggle floated through the phone, like nails on a chalkboard. “Ken, is Sarah still mad at me?” Dad’s voice instantly turned tender. “Ignore her. Just throwing a tantrum.” I stood on my toes, trying to reach the phone. “Daddy, Mommy melted in the jar. She…” “Shut up!” Dad yelled at me. “Learning to lie at your age? Your mother taught you this!” He hung up. Grandma held me and wept. Her tears hit my neck, hotter than boiling water. The next day, Dad’s secretary, Jenny, showed up. She was wearing Mom’s favorite lavender dress. Her high heels clacked on the floor, sounding like knives scraping bone. “Ken sent me to get some files.” She smiled and touched my head. “Cici, you’ve grown.” I hid behind Grandma. This lady smelled sweet, exactly like the smell that drifted out of the jar at the end. Grandma blocked the bedroom door. “Get out!” Jenny didn’t get mad. Instead, she pulled a fancy candy box from her bag. “Cici, your daddy asked me to give this to you.” Inside were colorful star-shaped candies, just like the ones Mom used to buy. “When is Daddy coming home?” I whispered. “When your mommy admits she was wrong.” She crouched down, her perfume overwhelming me. “Cici, do you want a little brother?” Grandma slapped the candy box out of her hand and shoved Jenny toward the door. “Monster! You pair of monsters!” That night, Dad called again. “Mom, send Cici over to stay for a few days.” His voice was cold. “I need to personally teach her what honesty means.” Grandma hugged me tight. “Over my dead body!” “Don’t force my hand.” Dad paused. “Don’t forget, the deed to the old house is in my name.” After the call, Grandma wouldn’t stop shaking. She stroked my face. “Cici, don’t be scared. Grandma is here.” But I knew Grandma was terrified. When she packed my bag, her hands shook so bad she couldn’t even button my shirt. The next morning, Dad sent people to pick me up. They locked Grandma in her room so she couldn’t follow. In the black sedan, Jenny hugged me a little too tightly. “Cici, you’re going to have a little brother soon. Aren’t you happy?” I fiddled with the hem of my dress. “When is Mommy coming home?” “Your mommy doesn’t want you anymore.” She whispered in my ear. “She ran off with another man. That’s why she made you lie about the jar.” The car pulled up to a big, beautiful house. Dad stood at the door, his gaze colder than the winter wind. “Do you know what you did wrong?” he asked. I shook my head. “Mommy really melted in the jar.” Dad’s face turned scary. He dragged me to the basement, with Jenny giggling behind us. The basement was filled with glass cases containing preserved animals. “Do you know why they’re here?” Dad pointed to a white rabbit specimen. “Because they loved to lie.” Jenny handed him a syringe. “Ken, kids need discipline. One shot and she’ll behave.” I scrambled backward, my back hitting the cold glass case. “Last chance,” Dad said, watching Jenny raise the needle. “Where is your mother?” “In the jar…” My tears hit the floor. “Mommy really melted in the jar…” As the needle pierced my skin, I saw Jenny rubbing her belly, smiling at me. “When your little brother is born, we’ll let your mommy come back, okay?” But Grandma said Mommy wasn’t coming back. 3 The moment the liquid from the syringe entered my vein, my eyelids felt heavy as lead. Dad carried me to the sofa, gently combing my hair with his fingers. He hadn’t touched me like this in a long time. The last time was when I had a fever; Mom held me all night while Dad sat by the bed reading stories. “Cici, be a good girl. Just sleep, and it’ll be okay.” His voice was gentle, like the old Daddy. I fought to keep my eyes open. “Daddy… Mommy really…” His fingers suddenly clamped onto my jaw. “Still lying?” Dad’s smile vanished instantly. “Where is she hiding? Did she teach you to say these lies?” It hurt so much I cried, but I didn’t dare make a sound. Dad hated crying. Jenny walked over with warm milk. “Ken, don’t be mad. Kids need patience.” She held the milk to my lips. The sweet, cloying smell reminded me of the scent drifting from the jar. I clamped my mouth shut. Milk spilled onto my pajamas, hot and sticky against my skin. “Disobedient!” Dad suddenly grabbed my left hand and slammed it onto the coffee table. “Which hand knocked over the perfume? This one?” Click. His lighter flared. The blue flame licked my fingertips. I screamed in agony, but Dad clamped his hand over my mouth. His palm smelled faintly of tobacco. I used to love that smell. “Shhh…” He whispered in my ear. “Cici is brave, right? It’s just a burn. Better than the lies your mother taught you.” Jenny giggled nearby. “Ken, you’re so strict.” My finger bubbled up, like the skin on the porridge Mom used to make when it cooled down. Dad let go and pulled a velvet box from the drawer. “I was going to give this to you for your birthday.” He opened it to reveal a silver bracelet. “But you can have it early.” I curled into the corner of the sofa, terrified to move. “Hand.” Dad commanded. When he snapped the bracelet on, pain shot through me. The inside was lined with tiny steel spikes. With every pulse of my wrist, they dug deeper into my flesh. “I had this custom-made.” He stroked my face. “Every time you lie, it digs deeper.” Drops of blood trickled down the silver chain, blooming like small red flowers on the beige sofa. Jenny frowned suddenly. “Ken, she doesn’t look right…” Dad finally noticed my lips were turning purple. He ripped open my collar. The area around the injection site had turned a terrifying grey-blue. “What did you give her?” Dad roared, grabbing Jenny by the collar. “J-Just a normal sedative…” Jenny’s face went pale. “Maybe… maybe it reacted with the milk…” As Dad scooped me up and ran out the door, I heard Jenny screaming, “Ken! My baby…” The emergency room lights were blinding. The doctor said ten more minutes and my heart would have stopped. Dad held my hand the whole time. His hand was shaking. “Cici, Daddy didn’t mean to.” His eyes were red. “Just admit you lied, and Daddy will take you home right now.” I stared at the fluorescent lights on the ceiling. They looked like Mom’s eyes in the end. “Daddy…” I whispered. “When Mommy was in the jar… did it hurt this much too?” His hand went limp. 4 The hospital smelled like harsh chemicals. Dad sat by the bed peeling an apple. The skin spiraled down in one long strip, like the scarves Mom used to knit for me. “Cici,” he sliced the apple into small chunks. “When your brother is born, Daddy will let your mom take care of him…” I stared at the IV needle in the back of my hand. “Mommy doesn’t want a brother.” “Nonsense!” Dad pinched my chin. “Why are you such a liar now? Did she ruin you that much?” Before he could finish, the door swung open. Two police officers walked in. One was holding a clear evidence bag containing the perfume bottle Grandma found in the jar. “Mr. Sterling, we need to talk.” The officer’s face was grim. “About your wife’s death.” Dad froze, unable to process it. “What?” The officer placed a tablet on the bedside table. On the screen was a paused video. The date stamp was the night Mom was put in the jar. In the video, Jenny was sneaking around the jar, pouring something from the perfume bottle into the air holes. “According to the coroner’s report,” the officer pointed at the screen, “The deceased had traces of strong alkaline corrosion in her trachea, consistent with the contents of this bottle.” The officer pulled out another bag containing shreds of lavender fabric found in Mom’s grip. “Fibers found under the victim’s fingernails match the brand frequently worn by the suspect.” Dad laughed abruptly. A manic sound. “Ridiculous! How much did Sarah pay you? Even the cops are in on her skit?” He snatched the tablet and smashed it on the floor. The screen spiderwebbed. Dad spun around and pointed a shaking finger at me. “Did your mom put you up to this? Using the police to scare me?” His eyes were terrifyingly red, like a cornered beast. The officer stepped between us. “The child needs rest. Please come to the station to assist with the investigation.” “Assist my ass!” Dad loosened his tie. “I’m going to find Sarah right now and show you all who the liar is!” He stormed out, nearly colliding with Jenny, who was running in panicked. “Ken! Why are they looking for me…” She froze when she saw the police. The officer flashed his badge. “Ms. Jenny Miller, please come with us.” Jenny went white. She grabbed Dad’s arm. “Ken! I’m carrying your son!” Dad instinctively comforted her. “Don’t be scared. I’ll find that woman!” The room fell silent. I looked out the window at a passing cloud. Mom said when people die, they become clouds. The officer crouched down and gently held my bandaged hand. “Cici, your mom…” “I know,” I pointed at the cloud. “Mommy is right there.” The officer’s eyes welled up. He patted my head and pulled a phone from his briefcase. “We found this at the bottom of the jar. It was your mom’s.” The screen was cracked, but it still lit up. The wallpaper was a photo of Mom and me. She was hugging me, smiling so gently. The officer opened the call log. The last call was to Dad. Duration: 3 minutes and 27 seconds. It was the night she was put in the jar. I suddenly remembered the humming and the dripping sounds from the jar. That wasn’t Mom singing. That was the sound coming from Dad’s phone after he answered—Jenny’s giggles and their intimate noises, playing through the speaker into the jar. The officer opened the messages. The last text sent to Dad: [The air holes are blocked. Help me.] Sent: 2:17 AM. Unread. No reply. Dad snatched the phone. Staring at the message, his eyes looked like they were going to bleed. His face drained of all color. He nearly collapsed. “No, this is impossible…”

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After being the “backup girlfriend” to the school’s notorious bad boy for a year, I still didn’t get promoted to the main role. He chose the “good girl” instead. Over the phone, he dragged out his words, his tone dripping with mockery: “Sorry, Luna. Compared to Chloe, you’re just too cheap.” Everyone bet I would throw a tantrum. Or maybe go full psycho, get jealous, and tear the good girl apart. But I just said, “Oh.” I hung up and continued booking my flight for studying abroad. No one knew the truth: I only got close to Jax to hide from a creepy stalker who had been obsessing over me. Graduation was here. The act was over. But later, Jax flew through a dozen countries just to corner me at an airport, eyes red and desperate. “Luna, were you just using me as a tool from the very beginning?” 1 It was pouring rain on graduation day. Jax invited me to a party, but I didn’t go. So, they decided to livestream it just for me. Everyone was there on camera. When they heard I wasn’t coming, the mood shifted. “Wait, wasn’t today the day he picks between her and Chloe? I was waiting for the drama. What’s up with Luna?” “Probably realized Jax would never pick her. She’s probably crying in a bathroom somewhere.” “LMAO. The simp finally realized she’s unworthy. I knew she’d crack.” For the past year, my desperate pursuit of Jax had been the school’s favorite joke. The camera zoomed in on Jax’s face. He looked bored. Sitting next to him was Chloe, the quintessential “good girl” everyone thought was perfect for him. Jax grabbed her chin. “Since Luna forfeited, you’re my girlfriend now. The only one who gets to kiss me.” The room erupted in cheers. Chloe’s face turned bright red. She looked down, acting shy, whispering, “Stop it.” Jax leaned in to kiss her, but someone interrupted. “Luna isn’t ugly though. Why didn’t you pick her, Jax?” “Yeah, I remember you walked her home a bunch of times. Bought her Christmas gifts too.” “But she was so desperate. She practically begged for it, right, Jax?” Jax paused. Then he scoffed. “Obviously.” Chloe, ears still burning, pouted. “Exactly. And Luna looks so… needy. Who knows how many guys she’s been with? She’s probably not even clean.” After she said that, everyone laughed. “Maybe I’ll chase her next week. See if I can hit it. She’s hot enough. You mind, Jax?” Jax took a sip of his drink, unbothered. “Why would I mind?” His gaze drifted toward the camera lens. After a few seconds of silence, he picked up his phone and dialed. “Hello, Luna.” The moment I picked up, the mocking laughter pierced my eardrums. “Gotta say it to her face for it to count.” “Yo, put it on speaker! I wanna hear if she cries loud.” “Hahaha, bet. Let me record this.” I didn’t say anything. I just heard Jax’s lazy, drawling voice. Every word was precise. “Luna, look. It’s like this.” “It’s a shame, really. But you’re just too cheap. Too easy. I like girls like Chloe. Innocent.” “So…” “Oh,” I said. I cut him off. Before he could continue, I hung up. 2 I was standing by the window, booking a flight for two days later. After hanging up, I confirmed the time and arrival airport. I stared at the ticket confirmation and exhaled deeply. I watched the livestream. Notifications kept popping up on my phone from classmates. It was hard to ignore. Jax was the school’s untouchable bad boy. When he played basketball, the way his muscles flexed made every girl squeal. They admired him but feared him. No one dared to approach him. Except me. Starting senior year, I “shamelessly” began chasing Jax. I waited for him after school, intercepted him at the gate. By the third week, Jax finally acknowledged my existence. Right after me, the second pursuer appeared: Chloe. Obviously, Jax preferred her type. I ran three blocks to buy Jax his favorite sports drink. He took one sip. Chloe bought a random water from the vending machine. She handed it to him, blushing. He put it on his desk and stared at it all afternoon like it was gold. I waited two hours at the basketball court for Jax. Chloe already had his number. She walked over with him, giggling every step of the way. When she saw me, she covered her mouth. “Jax, is that the girl everyone says is harassing you?” Jax looked at me. That was the first time he looked me in the eye and spoke to me. “Her? She’s not half as cute as you.” But even then, I didn’t give up. After three months of effort, I finally secured the position of Jax’s “Backup Girlfriend.” “Whenever you need me, I’ll do anything. I won’t cling to you. It’s all one-sided on my part.” I kept my head down, standing in front of him. He raised an eyebrow, his gaze a mix of amusement and disgust. “Really? Are you that desperate?” I still didn’t look up. I clenched my teeth. “Yes. All I want is to be around you more.” Jax scoffed. “Interesting.” He walked away. But luckily, after that, everyone knew about my ambiguous relationship with Jax. He’d walk with Chloe, then call me to bring them food. Sometimes when he played ball alone, he’d call me to fetch the rebounds. Classmates couldn’t figure out who he actually liked. When asked, Jax smiled openly. “I don’t date. They both know that.” So I was a backup. Chloe was too. The only difference was that Jax promised Chloe a “status” after graduation. The rumor spread that it was a choice between me and her. Without any suspense, I was destined to be the punchline. But honestly? I never took it seriously. A notification popped up: Jax’s official Instagram post. He tagged me specifically. The photo was a side profile of him kissing Chloe. I didn’t look closely. I just noticed a familiar name in the stream of “Congrats” comments. Seth: [Congrats] I grimaced, a mix of disgust and lingering fear. I should thank Jax. If not for his terrifying reputation, I don’t know how many times that creepy stalker Seth would have tried something. 3 Back in the private room. After the call ended, Jax hadn’t spoken a word. People were whispering. “What did Luna say? Did you hear?” “She just said ‘Oh’.” “No way. Seriously? No reaction? She used to run miles for him. She’d go for night runs at 2 AM if he called. How could she not care?” “I bet the shock was too big. She’s probably stunned.” At the table, people were toasting Jax and Chloe. Jax zoned out several times. He just smirked and gave noncommittal answers, scrolling through his phone. He refreshed his feed. No comment from Luna. No message. Jax’s eyes darkened. Nobody understood Luna like he did. He knew that her tone just now was flat. Emotionless. Like she heard news that had nothing to do with her. But why? Usually, she’d be ecstatic just to see him. Why did she hang up first? Suddenly, Chloe’s best friend stood up, pouring wine indignantly. “Ideally, you guys should have been together ages ago. It’s all because of someone who loves being the third wheel, ruining the vibe. So cheap. Right, Chloe?” Chloe bit her lip shyly. She nodded. “I can’t blame her. Even though Jax liked me back then, she probably thought she had a chance.” “Well, I don’t care. She better not cling to Jax anymore. Can we beat her up first before blocking her?” Chloe giggled. “Violence is too mean! Jax just needs to block her.” She turned to grab Jax’s phone. But her hand was pinned down. “What are you doing?” Jax stared at her, eyes cold. Chloe froze. She’d seen Jax angry before; it was never pretty. She swallowed her words. “N-nothing…” Her eyes turned red, tears welling up. Jax acted like he didn’t see it. He stood up. “You guys have fun. I’m leaving.” He grabbed his jacket and walked out. Chloe sat there, stunned. Outside, Jax stared at his phone for a long time. He looked up at the moon, took a deep breath, and opened the chat with Luna. [Usually you’re desperate to stick to me. Are you dead today?] [Just because I’m official doesn’t mean we can’t be friends. Don’t be too sad. Come out, I’ll comfort you. You have 30 minutes.] 4 I slept for 14 hours straight at home. Graduation meant no more classes, exams, or studying. I felt like my soul left my body the moment I hit the mattress. When I woke up, it was dusk. My dad called to remind me to pack for my trip. “Most importantly, the recommendation letter. Don’t lose it.” I scrambled up. “Yes, yes, I know.” After packing, I checked my phone. Messages flooded the screen. My throat tightened instantly. Unknown number. I recognized Seth immediately. [Can I come to your house tonight?] [Can you leave the window open? Your security guard pulled my arm really hard last time. It hurt for days. But I was happy because you looked at me.] [Jax has a girlfriend now. You shouldn’t waste time on him. He won’t stop us anymore.] [I heard you’re planning to go to NYU, right? I’ll rent a place near your dorm.] … I scrolled down. My jaw clenched uncontrollably. I was shaking. Seth. The most invisible guy in the class next door. The reason I got close to Jax. He noticed me in sophomore year. The scariest part? It wasn’t until junior year that I realized someone had been following me for a whole year. He mimicked my habits. He found out my likes. He sent me love letters written during his nightly fantasies about me. My desk was always missing a used eraser, an opened pack of tissues, a half-drunk water bottle. Every time I realized it, I went numb. The moment my instincts screamed the loudest was that one time. I turned around on the street. I saw him. He was rushing toward me, like he was about to pounce. “What are you doing?!” He snapped out of it and smiled, a痴痴 (obsessive/foolish) grin. “Nothing. Just looking at you.” Later, he followed me home. He even climbed through my window at night. We called the cops, but he kept following me like a ghost. Then I became Jax’s backup. He backed off for a year, afraid to offend Jax. Now he was back. Luckily, I graduated. I was leaving the country. NYU was just a smokescreen. Thinking about this, I relaxed my tense nerves. I booked a hotel immediately. My flight was in two days. I needed to hide. Unexpectedly, that night, I ran into Jax at a convenience store nearby. And Chloe. He was staring at his phone. Until we bumped into each other. He looked stunned. “Luna?” I ignored him. I turned to leave. But then I saw a familiar shadow in the distance. Standing in the dark, staring unblinkingly at me. Goosebumps exploded all over my body. I spun around and grabbed Jax’s sleeve. “Where are you going? Can I come?” Chloe froze. Her eyes reddened instantly. She gripped Jax’s hand. “Luna, Jax and I are together now. Can you please stop?” “Jax, ignore her! I’m your girlfriend. She can’t steal you!” Jax stared at me. He didn’t say anything. After two seconds, he scoffed. “Luna, what’s with the drama? I said 30 minutes. You forgot, didn’t you?” 30 minutes? I was confused. I had heard countdowns like that a million times. “Be here in 30 minutes or you’re fired as the backup.” “Five minutes. If you’re late, I’m blocking you.” … In that moment, fear consumed me. I clung to Jax. Almost begging: “I apologize for being late. Just this last time! Can I stay by your side for a bit?” The next second, Chloe burst into tears, and my hand was forcefully ripped away. Jax looked indifferent, yet amused. He laughed. “Luna, I thought you ignoring my messages meant you had some backbone.” “Didn’t expect you to be this cheap. Can’t live without a man? I look down on you.”

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After caring for my paralyzed husband for over a decade and giving him a dignified funeral, I took our yellowed marriage certificate to claim his inheritance. But the clerk told me the certificate was a fake. My husband’s legal spouse was someone else. My cousin, who had lived in my house for over thirty years, smugly pulled out her own marriage certificate: “Look closely. I am Richard’s legal wife!” Furious, I lunged at her. But my adopted son blocked me. “My parents took pity on you because you were childless and let you be our housekeeper. Now you want to steal my dad’s inheritance? Have you no shame?” Enraged, I slapped him. “If you hadn’t demanded to go play by the river back then, my son wouldn’t have drowned!” My cousin laughed maniacally. “If your son hadn’t died, how would you have willingly raised mine?” The rage was too much. I died on the spot. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the flood. Richard had locked me in the house to stop me from saving my son. 1 “What? You let Andy take your war buddy’s orphan to play by the river? Don’t you know Andy can’t swim? The river has been flooding lately, didn’t you know?!” My voice was shrill as I screamed at Richard. Under his surprised gaze, I turned to leave. “I don’t trust two kids by the river alone. I’m going to get them!” Before I could reach the door, Richard grabbed my arm. “When I came back, they were having fun. Don’t be a buzzkill.” “Country kids grow up in the mountains and rivers. You’re just being dramatic, trying to keep the boy locked up inside!” “Every kid in town is like this. If you can’t raise him right, I’ll take him to the city! You’ll never see him again!” His words were exactly the same as in my past life. Back then, terrified he would take my son away, I listened to him. I hesitated. That hesitation cost my six-year-old son his life. He was swept away by the flood, his body found a day later by villagers downstream. I could never forget his wet, pale body, cold and stiff in my arms. Every night, I saw him in my dreams, reaching out, crying, “Mommy, save me!” My heart felt pierced by a thousand blades. But my husband, snoring beside me, complained my crying was annoying. He said my grief made him and his adopted son, Jacob, look heartless. He said Andy’s death was just an accident, and my crying was just guilt-tripping them. Because of him, I only dared to cry in secret. The stress caused me to miscarry my four-month-old baby, plunging me deeper into despair. Thinking of this, I struggled against Richard’s grip. My cousin, Linda, blocked the door. “Cousin, kids need to be tough! There are tons of kids by the river, nobody else is drowning! Relax!” I bit my lip. “Andy is small. And Jacob—he’s your buddy’s only son. Aren’t you worried?” Richard tightened his grip. “Jacob is smart, don’t worry about him! You’re pregnant, stop running around! Linda rarely visits, go cook something nice for her!” I stared at Richard. Why was he stopping me? In my past life, they never blocked me like this. A chill ran down my spine. Did they come back too? Even tigers don’t eat their cubs. In the past life, it might have been an accident. This time, they were plotting murder! Any minute now, the flash flood would hit. If I didn’t go now, it would be too late! I dug my nails into my palm to stay calm. I couldn’t let them know I knew. Or they might kill me and my unborn child right here. These two had no conscience. Richard used a fake marriage certificate to enslave me for forty years. I cared for his senile parents, raised his son, and tended to him when he was paralyzed. And in the end? He left me homeless and penniless. Now, he wanted to kill my son again so I would continue to be their beast of burden? Rage boiled in my chest, but I forced my body not to shake. “I’m just going to get some vegetables. We’re out of meat, and I ate the eggs. I’ll go borrow some from Mrs. Miller next door!” Linda stopped me immediately. “No need, Cousin! I rarely visit, don’t spend money on me. I’ll eat anything!” Richard’s face darkened. “I’ll go. You rest.” 2 As he walked to the door, Linda followed, her voice dripping with sweetness. “Cousin, I’ll go with you!” Watching them leave together, intimate and shameless. I hated my past self for being so blind. I had seen them being close but thought, they’re cousins. I never suspected a thing. Once their footsteps faded, I rushed to the door. It wouldn’t open. Through the crack, I saw a padlock on the latch. My heart turned to ice. He really wasn’t giving me a chance. Hearing footsteps outside, I yelled to passing kids, asking if they’d seen my son. They told me Andy wanted to come home, but the new kid wouldn’t let him leave. Now, it was almost dark. Only Andy and his new “friend” were left by the river. Cold sweat dripped down my forehead. Richard was so confident leaving Jacob there. Did all three of them come back? If so, my six-year-old didn’t stand a chance against a thirty-something soul in a child’s body. Jacob would throw him in. I begged the kids to find Richard at Mrs. Miller’s. It was a few minutes away. I waited half an hour. I even started the rice cooker. No Richard. I sent villagers twice more. Finally, Richard and Linda returned, laughing, holding a few eggs. Richard explained casually under my furious gaze, “Habit. I locked it without thinking. Got talking with Mrs. Miller’s son. You don’t go out anyway.” Seeing their lingering smiles, my panic subsided. I asked calmly, “It’s getting dark. They aren’t back. Should we look for them?” Richard glanced at the sky. “It’s fine. Boys need to build guts.” Linda smiled. “Cousin, kids love to play. Don’t worry.” I looked them deep in the eyes. “Richard, Jacob is your buddy’s orphan. You’re not worried at all?” Richard paused, then relaxed. “Jacob is a big boy. He can take care of himself!” I said flatly, “Fine. Not my kid, not my problem.” They didn’t know I had already sent my brother to fetch Andy and take him to his house. The only kid by the river now was Jacob. Let’s see if his luck holds up in this life! 3 “Flood! Flash flood by the river! Get your kids and livestock!” The village chief’s gong clanged from the edge of town. I stood up abruptly. “The kids aren’t back! Richard, go find them!” Richard and Linda frowned but didn’t move. “Why are you panicking? It’s water. Kids can run.” I sneered internally. They were so sure my son was the one dying. Seeing me anxious, Richard pushed me down. “Sit. You’re pregnant. I’ll go.” I feigned worry and followed him to the village entrance. Villagers heard my kids were still out and offered to help search. Richard walked slowly. “My boys are smart. Thanks, but you guys go do your work. They’re fine!” The villagers were annoyed. “Last year, grown men got swept away! It’s dark! Hurry up!” I sped up. Suddenly, Linda “tripped” into me, knocking me down. She clutched her stomach, looking pale. Richard roared at me. “What are you doing?! Help her home! She’s frail! If anything happens to her, it’s on you!” I froze. “What about the kids?” “What can happen? I’ll call them!” I had to help Linda home. Passing my brother’s house, I saw him holding my sleeping son. Tears welled up. Near my house, I ran into Richard. “Why didn’t you look for them?” I demanded. “They’re big boys! I shouted, they’ll hear me. Linda is in pain, I have to prioritize!” I sneered and walked home. In the distance, the roar of the flood grew louder. Screams erupted from the other side of the village. People were running toward my house. The fastest runner arrived, gasping. “Sarah! A kid got swept away! Go check if it’s yours! The chief is organizing a rescue!” “What?” Richard and Linda gasped. But their faces held barely concealed joy. I stayed calm. I hoped they’d keep smiling when they found out who it was. Jacob might be reborn, but he was in a child’s body. He couldn’t outrun a flash flood. I stammered, “Impossible! It can’t be Andy! Richard called them back!” Richard chimed in, “Yeah, can’t be my son! You made a mistake!” He added, “I want to help rescue, but I have a pregnant wife and a sick guest. I can’t leave!” The villager scratched his head. “But… they said the kid was wearing green. Only Andy wears green.” Richard and Linda’s smiles widened. Linda looked at me with mock pity. Richard pretended to panic. “Impossible! Andy is smart!” I shrieked, “Definitely not Andy! Wait, Richard, didn’t you bring your buddy’s orphan? Could it be…” “Impossible!” Linda snapped. “Jacob is wearing blue! Only Andy wears green!” 4 I nodded. “If you say so!” Raising Jacob for thirty years, I knew his vanity. Richard made Jacob wear tattered clothes to gain sympathy. But Andy had new clothes. Certain Andy would die, Jacob must have stolen Andy’s clothes beforehand. Watching their smug faces, I smiled. “I’ll go make eggs. Andy loves scrambled eggs!” Just as I entered the kitchen, another messenger arrived. “Sarah! Your kid was pulled out! They did CPR but he needs a hospital! You have the only bike, go now! Or it’ll be too late!” “What? How could it be my kid?” I cried, urging Richard. “Ride the bike! Save him!” Under public pressure, Richard wheeled out the bike. Linda insisted on going. She hopped on the back, claiming she knew first aid. Watching them leave, I walked to my brother’s house. Seeing the little boy who haunted my dreams in my past life, safe and sound, I wept.

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The summer after my freshman year of college, my boss at the shady motel where I worked secretly took naked photos of me. My mom forced me to settle with him. She said, “He’s already seen you naked. Who knows if he has videos too?” “You might be shameless, but I still have a reputation. Your sister still has a reputation!” Tears filled my eyes but refused to fall. I looked at her, stunned. “What if this happened to Lily?” 1 Before I could finish, my mom slapped me across the face. Hard. Her face was purple with rage, her whole body shaking, as if my hypothetical question was a knife aimed directly at my little sister. “Don’t you dare curse your sister!” I knew exactly who my mother was, but hearing her say it still felt like a claw ripping through my chest. Before summer break started, the old security guard at my college, the one who fed the stray cats, died of heatstroke. The school announced emergency dorm renovations. We were kicked out. I texted my mom, asking for $25 so I could buy a bus ticket home. New York to Buffalo. Seven hours on a Greyhound. The cheapest ticket possible. $24.50. She refused instantly. “Where are we supposed to get money? Can’t you be more frugal?” “Your sister starts prep for art school in two years. We just hired a tutor from Juilliard. One lesson is $200. We don’t have extra money for you.” My dad was listening on the other end. He chimed in loudly: “Sarah, look at the neighbor’s kid, Jenny. The second school let out, she got a job at the mall. I heard she made a couple thousand just in commission last month.” Then they both asked me the same question. If Jenny can do it, why can’t you? It’s only three months. Why can’t you get a job? Why? I opened my mouth but said nothing. Because Jenny lives in Buffalo. She goes to college there. She has a house to go back to after work. Me? In the massive city of New York, the only thing I owned was one-fourth of a bunk bed in a dorm room. Oh wait, not anymore. The school was renovating to install AC and new furniture after the heatstroke incident. My roommates were planning a trip to Korea. They were scheming to take the train instead of flying to save the difference from their parents’ budget. My dorm leader, a local girl, got picked up by her parents for even a three-day weekend. Everyone was excited for summer. Everyone except me. I couldn’t even force a smile. Because I was terrified to ask my parents for money. Before college, my mom sat me down with a calculator and a spreadsheet. “Breakfast: one egg, one milk. Two dollars.” “Lunch: veggies and rice. Three dollars.” “Dinner: noodles and a bun. Five dollars.” “Ten dollars a day for food. That’s three hundred a month. I’ll give you another three hundred for ‘extras.’ Six hundred total. That’s plenty.” What she didn’t say was that she would dole out this meager six hundred dollars week by week. The first week of freshman year, the RA told us we needed to pay a $200 insurance fee. My mom didn’t believe me. “I paid your tuition. I paid your book fees. Thousands of dollars! How could there be another fee?” Through the cracked screen of my old Android, my mom’s face was blurry, but her voice was piercing. “Go find your RA. Go find the dean. I want to ask them personally if they really need to take this $200!” “Sarah, if I find out you’re lying to get money, you can forget about school! It’s a waste anyway. Liars don’t succeed.” I had no choice. I went to the RA. To this day, the pity in her eyes makes me want to disappear. That $200 was just the start. For a year, whenever there was an unexpected fee, I stalled. But periods don’t wait. It comes like a flood, staining pants and sheets. I had to beg my roommates for pads, for a few dollars, promising to pay them back when my weekly allowance came in or when I got paid from a part-time gig. Money was a mountain crushing the life out of my college experience. My bank account never had more than $20. I used the cheapest 3-in-1 men’s shampoo because it was on sale. When everyone talked about going to concerts or hot pot, I stayed silent. I didn’t even know what the inside of a hot pot restaurant looked like. I guarded my pathetic dignity and drew a line between me and my classmates. And now, with my face stinging from her slap, my mom was still ranting. “If you weren’t out whoring around, how would someone get photos like that?” “You’re disgusting, and you have the nerve to drag your sister into this?!” “Sarah, you really are just like that dead old woman!” 2 The “dead old woman” was my grandma. My name is Sarah. Grandma named me. I was born the year SARS hit. My dad owned an internet café. Due to the regulations, the business was shut down for months. Poverty defined my mother’s pregnancy. No fruit, no protein. Just stress and my dad’s constant frowning. My mom had nowhere to vent, so she blamed me. “If not for this kid, we’d be in California by now. Worst timing ever.” To make it worse, I was born during a historic heatwave. My mom was in labor for 30 hours. The doctor suggested a C-section. My dad asked how much it cost and how long the recovery was. Then he said no. My mom suffered for two days and tore badly before I finally came out. How do I know this? Because the moment I was born, my mom dumped me at my grandma’s house and left for the city with my dad to make money. Whenever I asked about them, Grandma told me the story of my birth. That was the only connection I had with them. When they left, Grandma took me to the train station. They were in the car; Grandma held me outside the window. She waved and asked, “What’s her name? We need a name for the birth certificate!” My mom looked icy. She wouldn’t even look at Grandma. Dad had blamed Grandma for the C-section costs argument, so Mom hated her. Finally, annoyed, she snapped: “So annoying. My friend in the city made sixty grand in six months. If not for this kid, we’d have a hundred grand by now.” “Useless thing. Doesn’t give me a moment of peace. Just sorrow!” The train whistle blew. Grandma was hard of hearing. She misheard “Sorrow” (Sa-rah in the noise) as “Sarah.” She told me later that Mom named me Sarah because she hoped I would bring joy. I grew up believing that lie, waiting for them to come back. I waited year after year. I sat on the porch until I wore a groove in the wood. When I was ready for elementary school, Mom finally called. “Send the older one to the city. She can watch her sister.” That’s when I learned they had been living in the suburbs for years and had another daughter. My sister was different. She was born in 2008, the year of the Olympics. The economy was booming. They bought a house before she was born. After she arrived, the value tripled. So before I even met her, I heard her name. A name filled with hope, the opposite of my burden. Lily. 3 Police Station. A female officer blocked my mom. “Ma’am! This is a police station! No hitting!” My cheek burned. But my mom, restrained by the officer, looked at me like a predator. “You’ve always been manipulative!” “You told the school to send your grades to my phone! I know you! You just wanted your sister to see them!” “Look at you. How dare you compare yourself to her?!” Compare? I wouldn’t dare. The scale of love in my family was permanently tipped toward Lily. She was young. She was talented. Dancing was hard work. My mom’s mantra: “We suffer now to support Lily. When she becomes a principal dancer, she’ll take care of us all!” But the only person “suffering” and “cutting back” was me. Three bedrooms. The big sunny one was Lily’s. The one with the balcony was my parents’. The north-facing room was turned into a dance studio with mirrors. Where did I sleep? The attic. Half a window. No sun. Piles of junk. Leaks when it rained. Even then, Lily complained. When I came down to use the bathroom at night, she’d hug Mom and whisper: “It sounds like a ghost walking. Scary.” Mom would scream at me: “Go back up! Who told you to come down?!” I used to lie in that attic, telling myself: College will be better. In college, I’ll have a dorm. A real bed. A desk. I won’t have to sneak around like a thief to pee. I had no idea that in college, poverty would be a different kind of torture. When Mom refused to let me come home, I tried to find a job. But I had no experience, could only work three months, and needed housing. Only the shady motel near campus would take me. Front desk. $1,500 a month. Room and board included. Then came the day the school emailed grades to parents. That day, my mom exploded. She seemed to forget she was the one who refused to pay for my ticket home. “School’s out and you’re not home? Where are you whoring around?!” “You’re grown now, wings are hard, huh? Don’t care about your family? Your sister got scolded by her dance teacher yesterday and cried all day! Where were you?! Not a peep!” She screamed for thirty minutes. In the background, I heard my dad comforting Lily. Finally, she delivered the verdict: “If you don’t want to come home, then don’t come back! Ever!” “Figure out your own tuition next semester!” “Mom?!” I gasped. Click. She hung up. Two seconds later, a text from Dad. [Sarah, Mom is just upset because Lily got yelled at. Don’t take it to heart.] [But can you tell the school not to send your grades? Lily saw your 4.0 GPA and had a breakdown…] I stared at the screen. My heartbeat drowned out the lobby noise. Every word pushed me further away. They were a happy family of three. I was the extra. 4 I stood at the motel front desk, silent for a long time. I was so lost in thought I didn’t notice the hand reaching out behind me. It squeezed my shoulder. Not painful, but disgusting. I jumped. It was the boss. “Sarah, I heard you on the phone. Money trouble?” He was old, almost my dad’s age. Since I started, he’d been creepy. Touching me, knocking on the female staff dorm door at night. The cleaning lady, a tough older woman, had scared him off by yelling, “Who’s there?!” Now, facing him, I stepped back. “No. No trouble.” He squeezed past me to get a soda from the mini-fridge, pressing his fat stomach against my back. I felt suffocated. I wanted to scream. You have a wife and daughter! But I didn’t dare. Because I had no money. Poverty stripped away my dignity. I had no confidence to fight back. Before leaving, he pinched my shoulder again. “You know where to find me if you need help.” I clenched my fists, forcing myself to meet his gaze. “Payday is tomorrow. Any issues?” he asked. I deflated. “No issues.” That evening, I lay on the iron bunk in the staff room. The cleaning lady asked if I wanted dinner. The boss added a chicken leg for everyone. Thinking of his eyes, I felt sick. My stomach growled, but I said no. I scrolled through my phone. My roommates were in Korea, posting food pics. My dorm leader, Jen, posted a pic of a stray dog she rescued. Fed him a whole pack of sausages and he was still hungry! Had to buy a bun too! The dog looked sleek and happy on her leather sofa. I laughed bitterly. The dog lived better than me. I scrolled down. I sat up straight. It was Lily. The first photo was her and my parents standing at the gate of Juilliard, smiling. [Thanks Mom and Dad for taking me to my dream school! See you in two years, Juilliard!] The comments were full of relatives praising her. [Go Lily!] My parents replied to every single one. Except one. My aunt asked: [You’re all in New York? Where is Sarah?] Ignored.

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My fiancé, Lucas, went off to the countryside for a volunteer program and secretly started dating a local girl. When the program ended and he returned to the city, he dumped her cold turkey and married me instead. Later, he found out his ex-girlfriend died in childbirth due to an amniotic fluid embolism. Lucas spent the rest of his life drowning in guilt and depression. He dragged me through a loveless marriage until I died young from illness. On my deathbed, I told Lucas: “If there is a next life, I don’t want to make the same mistake.” Then, I was reborn. It was the spring of 1977. This time, Lucas chose to stay in the mountains with his country love, Sarah. And I quit my cushy government job to take the college entrance exams. Decades later, I returned to the countryside as a high-ranking official on an inspection tour and met Lucas again. He had built a brick house, farmed land, and had a brood of kids with Sarah. Seeing me dusty and tired from the journey, Lucas sighed: “It’s been decades, haven’t you moved on? You’re not young anymore; just find someone decent and marry.” He thought my motion sickness was heartbreak. The next day, a black Mercedes-Benz pulled up to the village entrance to pick me up. Lucas collapsed in the dust. “Didn’t you say that even if we tortured each other, you’d haunt me forever?” 1 If I hadn’t been accompanying the Governor on this inspection tour, I probably never would have set foot in this backwater again. And I certainly never expected to meet Sarah—the nightmare of my past life—face to face. The sun was high. Her face was flushed with sunburn, but the wrinkles around her eyes couldn’t hide her joy. “My Lucas just contracted a few more acres. After the harvest, we’re building a new wing for our eldest son’s wedding.” The village women around her were chirping like birds: “Sarah, you’re so lucky! You snagged a capable man!” “Right? Back then, most of those city boys just played around and left. Who else stayed for love?” “Besides the Village Chief, you guys are basically the richest family here, right?” Sarah soaked up the praise like a sponge, feigning modesty: “Oh, stop it. He just got lucky with the new policies. He’s not that amazing.” But her chin was tilted so high she could probably drink rain. I looked away. It seemed Lucas was doing well in this life. No regrets here. I had never met Sarah in my past life or this one, yet I recognized her instantly. First, because the neighbors had their black-and-white wedding photo on the wall. Second, because in my past life, my husband kept a photo of her at eighteen hidden away, weeping over it constantly. I was about to turn back to find my delegation when I saw Lucas walking over with a few teenagers carrying hoes. They had his eyes. Definitely his and Sarah’s kids. In my past life, Lucas and I were engaged since childhood. But during his volunteer stint in the countryside, he had a fling with Sarah. Desperate to return to the city, he abandoned a pregnant Sarah and married me. Shortly after our wedding, news came that Sarah died in childbirth. Lucas was consumed by regret. He never touched me again. I lived like a widow for decades and died alone. This time around, Lucas got his wish. A full house of kids with Sarah. Suddenly, a toddler crashed into my legs. The crying drew everyone’s attention. Recognizing me, shock flashed through Lucas’s eyes. “Ava? What are you doing here?” I bent down to help the kid up. “I’m here for work.” A villager asked, “Lucas, who’s she?” Lucas looked uncomfortable. “An old neighbor from the city. We knew each other as kids.” A woman nearby sneered. “Look at that city girl frame. Thin as a rake. Probably can’t bear children. No wonder Lucas picked Sarah.” Hearing this, Sarah puffed out her chest, looking smug. “Just a neighbor. My Lucas has high standards.” She looked me up and down with disdain. “Your face is sallow, and you’re flat as a board. Can you not afford food?” “I heard you city folks need ration coupons for rice. Unlike us country folk—we grow our own and eat till we burst.” I glanced at Sarah’s plump figure and smiled politely, ignoring her rudeness. I turned to leave. But a sudden wave of dizziness hit me. The long journey on bumpy roads had given me severe motion sickness. I stumbled. Lucas rushed forward to catch me. Once I was steady, he let go and stepped back quickly. He looked at me with pity. “Ava, it’s been years… why torture yourself like this?” Sarah rushed over like a guarding hen, blocking Lucas. “Ava, have some shame! You tried to seduce Lucas when you were girls, and now that he’s my man, you chase him all the way here?” Another woman spat on the ground. “Homewrecker! Coming here to ruin a family? We won’t let you bully Sarah!” A young wife put her hands on her hips. “City slut! Still playing these games at your age?” Even an old grandma hobbled over, pointing a cane at my nose. “Didn’t your parents teach you any morals?” The crowd surged forward, trying to push me out of the village. “Get back to the city! We don’t welcome your kind!” I tried to explain, but Lucas stopped the angry mob. “Aunties, please. She’s here for me. Let me talk to her… You know I’m a good man!” Lucas looked at me, his voice dripping with condescension. “Ava, haven’t you moved on after all these years? Stop living in the past. I have Sarah and the kids now. I’m happy. You’re not young anymore. Even if you can’t find someone perfect, just settle down.” His public declaration of loyalty made Sarah beam. She looked at me with scorn. “I know you’re bitter because you met him first. But love isn’t first-come-first-served! You’re obsessed with him, and you’re almost hitting menopause, aren’t you?” “Did you come here because you heard Lucas is the richest man in the village now?” Lucas frowned, looking at my dusty clothes. “Didn’t you get into college back then? How are you doing so badly you can’t even eat properly? You have hands and feet; surely you can find work…” He thought for a moment, then carefully pulled a few crumpled bills from a pocket sewn inside his pants. “Here. I’ll get an ox cart to take you to town this afternoon. Buy a bus ticket and go home. Don’t come back.” 2 I wasn’t about to touch money that was still warm from his crotch. I waved my hand. “You misunderstand. I’m not starving. I’m thin because I diet. It’s called staying fit.” They lived in the mountains; they didn’t know that being slim was the trend in the city now. They still thought being fat meant being wealthy. Lucas was convinced I was lying to save face. He tried to shove the money at me. “Ava, stop being stubborn. Take it… Sigh, we aren’t strangers… just take it.” I stepped back. “No need. I have business here.” In the past, I was meek. I never refused him. Lucas was used to controlling me. Seeing me refuse him repeatedly, his face went cold. “Ava, you can’t fool me. If I wasn’t worried about you dying of hunger in my village, I wouldn’t bother!” Sarah scoffed. “Lucas, look at her. She looks drained… I bet she has some nasty disease!” She pulled Lucas back. “Stay away from her. Who knows what she has! I told you, a factory girl like her couldn’t get into college legitimately. She probably slept her way in…” Her tone was self-righteous, as if she hadn’t seduced an engaged man in a cornfield years ago. Back then, I waited in the city like a fool, unaware they were hooking up. When Lucas first returned to the city in my past life, he was always distracted. When I asked, he just held my hand and said it was nothing. I suspected he had a fling. To quell my doubts, he proposed before he even found a job. That night by the river, he hugged me tight. “Ava, I have you. Why would I look at anyone else? Those country girls are rough and uneducated. Why would I want them when I have you, so soft and sweet?” I thought his distraction was just anxiety about the future. I convinced my parents to let us marry. After the wedding, Lucas took my dad’s job at the factory. It was 1977. The college entrance exams were reinstated. My friends were studying. I had the best grades, but I gave up on college because I didn’t want to be separated from my new husband. Then came the news of Sarah’s death. Lucas changed. He treated me like a plague. When he got laid off in middle age, he gave up. I supported the family and cared for his parents until they died. Only on my deathbed did I realize he didn’t just feel guilty—he hated me. He hated me for taking Sarah’s place. So, my last words were: “If there is a next life, let’s not do this again.” In this life, he stayed for Sarah. I chose a different path. I thought we were both happy with our choices. I tried to leave, but Sarah blocked me. “Ava, if you want ‘youth compensation fees’ from Lucas, forget it. He owes you nothing. He told me everything about your past. It was consensual.” “If you’re really too poor to treat your ‘disease,’ stay and cook for the old bachelor in the village. Maybe he’ll give you leftovers.” The crowd laughed nastily. “Look at the way she walks, shaking her hips. No decent family here wants that. If Sarah wasn’t so generous, you wouldn’t even get to serve the bachelor.” They say poverty breeds malice. I was seeing it firsthand. “I have a job.” “I work for the government. I’m here for poverty alleviation research.” Lucas sneered. “Ava, you studied all those years for a desk job? Stop pretending. Government clerks just push paper. They don’t have the power to come here on inspections.” I felt a sudden sadness. I used to love Lucas for his intellect. A few years in the village, and he had become ignorant and shallow. 3 In his mind, making money was the only measure of success. An old man puffed on his pipe. “I heard those government jobs pay peanuts. A month’s salary isn’t even worth one harvest.” The crowd roared with laughter. I didn’t want to explain that while my salary wasn’t huge, I held the power to decide the future of their entire township. A woman pointed. “Look at her white shirt. It’s frayed at the edges. Looks cheap. Even we dress better!” I looked down at my designer shirt with intentional distressing—a style from Paris I picked up on a study trip. Of course, they wouldn’t know fashion. And the dust here made everything look gray. “Just leave! If it weren’t for the VIPs coming, I’d beat you out of here myself!” Sarah shouted. Just then, the Village Chief ran over, shooing people away. “Scram! The Inspection Team is here! The leaders are resting, but they’ll be out soon. This affects our future subsidies, don’t mess it up!” Lucas’s eyes lit up. “Is it about the land contract policy? Finally!” The Chief nodded. “And there’s a big CEO coming from the city. Self-made billionaire. He’s looking to partner with us.” “If our crops are good, he’ll buy everything at double the market rate. No middlemen!” The crowd buzzed with excitement. “That’s amazing! The grain collectors were squeezing us dry!” “My kid’s tuition is covered!” Sarah shoved me. “Get lost! Don’t be an eyesore for the VIPs!” She turned to the Chief with a fawning smile. “Chief, I’m kicking out this old spinster. She’s trying to steal my man!” The Chief finally looked at me. His face went pale. “Director Ava? Why aren’t you resting in your room?” I smiled politely. “It was stuffy. I came for a walk.” The Chief started sweating buckets, bowing repeatedly. “I am so sorry! Our conditions are poor…” He turned and roared at Sarah. “Shut your mouth! This is the Director from the Central Inspection Team! Our VIP!” Lucas froze. “Chief, you’re mistaken. She came to find me. She… we were engaged. She’s been obsessed with me for years.” Sarah put her hands on her hips. “Yeah! She’s no VIP! She’s a shameless old maid trying to steal my husband!” The Chief looked like he was about to have a stroke. “You idiots! You think your Lucas is some prize? Why would a high-ranking official want him?!” Sarah kept cursing. Lucas looked at me with disappointment. “Ava, I didn’t know you sunk this low. Impersonating an official just to win me back? That’s a federal crime!” “Let me tell you, even if you were the richest woman in the world, I wouldn’t want you! Give up!” Before I could speak, a low hum came from the village entrance. A shiny black Mercedes-Benz rolled slowly into the square. The villagers dropped their tools and swarmed the car. “What is that?” the old man gasped. “Dad, that’s a luxury sedan! Only big shots have those!” The Chief rubbed his hands together. “Quick! It’s the CEO! Welcome him!” The car door opened. A man in a sharp suit stepped out. Tall, imposing, radiating authority. He shook hands with the Chief, then walked straight to me. He gently wiped the sweat from my forehead. “Motion sickness again?” 4 I smiled up at him. “Just a little. You came all this way?” Mark looked at me tenderly. “Let me see… you’re having an allergic reaction too? You always hide it… Besides, your business is my priority.” I let him hold my hand. “Where’s our son?” “I knew you’d miss him. The road was too rough, so my secretary is watching him at the hotel in town.” The Chief’s jaw dropped. “Mr. Chen… you and Director Ava are… married?” “Yes,” Mark put his arm around my shoulder. “I’m here to support my wife’s work. Poverty alleviation.” The villagers who had been mocking me were silent. “She really is a leader…” “Sarah is delusional. With a man like that, why would she want Lucas?” “Look at that car. So grand!” The Chief laughed nervously. “Misunderstanding! All a misunderstanding! The villagers didn’t recognize Mount Tai. I apologize on their behalf!” I smiled coolly. “Chief, you said the folkways here were simple and honest. I disagree. I need to re-evaluate the application for poverty status.” The Chief turned white. Mark cut him off. “Chief, my wife is unwell. We’re going to town to rest. We’ll talk business later.” Lucas stared at me, soul-crushed. “You’re married?” I nodded calmly. “Yes. My son is seven.” Mark and I were college classmates. He came from a prestigious family with deep political roots. We fell in love slowly. His family didn’t care about my humble background. After graduation, I went into government; he went into business during the economic reform. I used to think marriage was a grave. Mark taught me it could be paradise. Seeing how Mark loved me, I finally realized Lucas never truly loved me. I turned to leave. Lucas blocked the car. Through the windshield, he stared at me, eyes bloodshot. Mark squeezed my hand, jealous. “Lucas… that ex-boyfriend?” “No,” I said quickly. “Just a neighbor from childhood. Arranged engagement, never real.” “Ava! You said you’d wait for me to change my mind!” Lucas screamed. Mark’s face darkened. I held him back. “I’ll handle it.” I got out and looked Lucas in the eye. “Lucas, you remember wrong. I never said that in this life.” I emphasized “this life.” His face went ghostly pale. “Ava, I know you. You’re stubborn. You said even if we tortured each other, you’d haunt me forever!” I sighed. He didn’t get it. That was the old Ava. “Lucas, stop living in the past. When you chose Sarah, our fates were sealed. You stayed here; I left. We are strangers now.” Sarah grabbed Lucas. “Lucas! What are you doing? I gave you four kids! You can’t leave me just because she’s rich now!” Lucas shoved her away and yelled at me. “I only stayed with Sarah because I heard you were fooling around with other men in the city! You forgot me! You never wrote!” I was shocked. “Who told you that? You know who I am! And letters? I wrote every week! You didn’t get them?” “Sarah told me! She said everyone was talking about it…” Lucas stopped mid-sentence. Sarah was sweating bullets, eyes darting around. He realized the truth. “Sarah! Did you hide Ava’s letters? Speak!” Sarah fell to her knees, hugging his leg. “I was wrong, Lucas! I just loved you too much!” Lucas stood there, struck by lightning. “So you never betrayed me… I knew it… you were so perfect…” I felt no hate, just pity. “Lucas, we grew up together. Did you really trust rumors over me?” “Ava… listen…” He slapped Sarah across the face. Hard. Blood sprayed from her nose. He kicked her over. “Stop!” Sarah wailed. Villagers pulled him back. I looked at this violent man with disgust. I turned to leave. Lucas broke free and chased me. “Ava! It was a misunderstanding! Don’t go! Let’s start over!” I laughed. “Lucas, you have no spine. If you didn’t want to sleep with Sarah, could she have forced you?” “It was your weak will.” Lucas cried, tears streaming down his face. “Ava, you’re lying… you still love me. Or you wouldn’t be here.” I shook my head. “I forgot you existed until today.”

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