Author: Momo Chan

1 The tender moment—my husband and I, foreheads pressed together in a lingering farewell at the train station—was captured by a stranger and went viral. It should have been just another sweet video, blessed with well-wishes. But then one comment blew it up, sending it rocketing to hundreds of thousands of likes and shares. [Dude, you should delete this! That’s my boy, and his wife’s about to have their baby!] I found it absurd, almost laughable. The man I had just legally married, the man I was planning my wedding with, couldn’t possibly be someone else’s husband. But the rumor spread like a plague. “The Great Online Mistress Hunt” became my trending hashtag. The flood of messages in my inbox was unbearable. I needed my husband, Matthew, to clear the air. That’s when I overheard his friend’s teasing voice through his office door. “Man, you must be exhausted, juggling Ava and Nora these days.” Matthew just chuckled. “Nora’s throwing a fit because she found out Ava and I got our marriage license. She’s dead set on making Ava a laughingstock.” I stood frozen at his office door, a chill seeping deep into my bones. The Ava he was talking about was me. And Nora… was his adoptive niece. … “Does Ava even know you and Nora used to be a thing?” My mind went blank, a deafening buzz drowning out everything else. “It doesn’t matter—” The sharp ring of his phone cut Matthew off, snapping me back to reality. The second he pulled the door open, I arranged my face into a look of perfect, pleasant surprise. “Ava? What are you doing here?” his friend asked. I forced a smile, my heart hammering against my ribs, and gave a small nod. My gaze drifted past him into the office, and the smile froze on my face. Where my carefully chosen monstera and palm plants used to be, there was now a sprawling collection of Labubu art toys. “Your hands are freezing,” Matthew said, ending his call and wrapping his warm hand around mine. I pulled away, gesturing toward the army of vinyl figures. “Have you forgotten about your allergies? Your asthma?” He followed my gaze, a look of confusion on his face before it melted into a fond, indulgent smile. “Oh, that. Nora said my office was too stuffy. She wanted to ‘update my aesthetic.’” The name “Nora” had never sounded so grating. Matthew was a man who valued his boundaries. He never let anyone intrude on his personal space. I remember our first real fight, back when I had spent weeks researching the best air-purifying plants for his health. “Ava, I hate it when people cross the line,” he’d said, his eyes filled with an undisguised annoyance that stung. Even after a year together, I had blamed myself, convinced I hadn’t respected him enough. The day I was finally allowed to add my own touches to his office, I naively thought I had finally broken through his walls and earned a place in his heart. But Nora had only been back in the country for a month, and every trace of me had already been erased. If I hadn’t overheard their conversation, I might have tried to rationalize it, telling myself they were just a close uncle and niece and I was being petty. But I had forgotten. They weren’t related by blood at all. Nora was just the daughter his older brother had informally taken in years ago. I forced a smile. “Well, I don’t like them. Get rid of them.” Matthew’s smile faded, his expression darkening. His voice dropped. “They’re just toys, Ava. Don’t you think it’s a bit petty to pick a fight with a young girl over them?” I nodded, my smile never reaching my eyes. “Oh, I’m more than just petty. I hold a grudge.” I paused, my voice steady. “Is there anything you’re hiding from me?” My jaw tightened, my fists clenching at my sides. I fought to keep my breathing even, to hide the frantic rhythm of my heart. He stared, then let out a short, disbelieving laugh. “You see right through me, don’t you? I was planning a surprise, how did you find out?” He spoke as he slid a box across the desk toward me. But my attention was snagged by the open drawer beside it. Inside lay a necklace—a pendant shaped like the right half of a heart. The strange thing was, I’d seen its other half. On Nora’s Instagram. I had even liked the post, the caption a giddy declaration: [Your left side is all mine now!] The diamond ring he slid onto my finger was too big. My hand went slack. The ring slipped from my finger and clattered to the floor. A sharp, needle-like pain pricked at my heart as I watched Matthew awkwardly bend down to retrieve it. “I’m so sorry, Ava,” he stammered. “Nora’s so unreliable. She swore your hands were the same size. I’ll have it resized immediately. Please, don’t be angry.” My fiancé, using his “niece” as a cover, had ordered my engagement ring based on his ex-girlfriend’s finger size. When they were picking it out together, being praised as the perfect, loving couple… were they getting off on the thrill of some twisted, forbidden taboo? I swallowed the bile rising in my throat. “I found the person who started the rumors about me being a homewrecker,” I said flatly. He froze for a second. I met his eyes, my voice calm and serious. “It was Nora. I’m going to file a police report.” “Don’t be ridiculous!” Matthew’s face hardened, his brow furrowing. “She’s my niece, Ava. Soon she’ll be your family too. You’re going to have her arrested?” All it took was one mention of Nora, and the mask of the gentle, sophisticated man I loved shattered. “And you didn’t have a problem calling animal control on my brother’s puppy, did you?” I asked softly. He sputtered, speechless. The day Nora came over to pick up some documents, my brother had brought his puppy to visit. While I was in the kitchen making tea, the dog had jumped on her in the garden, leaving a faint scratch on her arm. Matthew had dropped everything at work and rushed home. “That mutt should be put down!” he had roared. But the security footage showed the whole story: Nora had been yanking the dog’s tail, hard, causing it to react in fear. At the time, I just thought he was being overprotective. I smoothed things over, and after the puppy was taken away, I secretly pulled some strings to get it back. He must have realized his own hypocrisy. He sighed, his voice softening. “Ava, when did you become so unreasonable? It was just a dog, a dog that had already hurt someone.” He paused. “And even if Nora did start the rumor, it was just a silly joke. Is it really worth making such a big deal over?” I looked down, pressing back the storm of pain inside me. So, in his eyes, the humiliation of being publicly branded a homewrecker, of being torn apart by the entire internet, was less significant than a scratch on Nora’s arm that could be covered with a Band-Aid. Seeing my silence, he must have mistaken it for surrender. He reached out, pulling me into a gentle embrace. “We’re getting married soon. The rumors will die down on their own. We’ll have so many more happy moments to capture.” A future built on lies and deceit can never be happy, I wanted to scream. In the end, Matthew did manage to kill the online buzz. The day before my birthday, he showed up with a bouquet of flowers as a peace offering. “Nora didn’t mean any harm. She knows she was wrong! She even got you a birthday present.” On my birthday, our house was filled with guests. Very few were my friends or family. Most were strangers to me, all orbiting around Nora. She was a vision in a striking red dress, her makeup flawless. She and Matthew, dapper in a black suit and white shirt, moved around the kitchen together, a picture of bizarre domestic harmony. As the last dish was served, Nora placed a single shrimp in my bowl. She winked playfully, her tone laced with triumph. “Ava, I can’t believe you got so upset about those little toys in Uncle Matthew’s office. I made you this dinner myself, so you can’t be mad at him anymore, okay?” Her words painted me as a petty, irrational girlfriend, jealous of an innocent niece. The guests shot me strange, judging glances. I looked at Matthew. He seemed oblivious to the subtle shift in the room’s atmosphere. “Ava, Nora spent a whole week learning how to cook this meal just to apologize. You have to try it.” I took a deep breath. “I’m allergic to shellfish.” Nora’s lips curved into a smirk. “Oh, whoops! My bad, Ava. How about some tofu instead?” She spooned a heap of it into my bowl. My fists clenched under the table. I kept my eyes locked on Matthew. I’m allergic to soy, too. Of all the dishes on the table, the only thing I could eat was a plate of steamed greens. Matthew knew that. He had to know. But he just leaned in, his face grim, and whispered, “Ava, just eat the tofu. We have your allergy medication here, you’ll be fine. Nora has a lot of pride. It took a lot for her to apologize. She’s acting out a little, but you’re the adult here. Don’t stoop to her level.” A slow, cold smile spread across my face. I understood. I picked up my bowl. Under Matthew’s relieved gaze, I lifted my arm and flung its contents across the table. “Ah!” Nora shrieked. Matthew had shielded her from the worst of it, but her hair was still matted with sticky, crumbled tofu. She looked pathetic. I smiled sweetly. “Since I’m the adult, I guess it’s my job to teach the younger generation a lesson. You’re welcome to it.” Matthew shot up from his chair, his hand flying through the air. The sharp crack of the slap echoed through the room. And in that instant, my world went utterly silent. Matthew stormed out, slamming the door behind him. I spent my birthday—the first one without him in seven years—surrounded by the wreckage of our dinner. He didn’t come home that night. I contacted a lawyer to draw up divorce papers. Just as I was about to text Matthew, my phone started buzzing relentlessly. A torrent of abusive texts from unknown numbers. [You’re famous now, you fucking homewrecker!] [Got a thing for married men, huh? You a professional or something?] My hands trembled as I opened up the trending topics. The train station video, the one he had suppressed, was back at number one. My boss called and told me to stay home for a while. A mob of “homewrecker hunters” had already shown up at my office. My personal information had been leaked. My mind was a chaotic blank when another text popped up. [So what if you have a marriage license? His heart belongs to me. You’re the one who has to hide in the shadows!] [If it wasn’t for that stubborn old man at the Vance estate, I would have been Mrs. Vance years ago!] The messages from Nora kept coming, one after another. I read them numbly, piecing together the story I had been too blind to see. Matthew’s grandfather, the patriarch of the Vance family, had never approved of the orphaned Nora. When he discovered their secret relationship, he gave her a choice: a large sum of money and a new identity—as the adopted daughter of his eldest son. He threw a city-wide banquet to publicly announce their new, purely platonic “uncle-niece” relationship. Matthew fell into a deep depression, convinced Nora had chosen money and status over him. And that’s when I appeared. The perfect rebound. The perfect foundation for seven years of a beautiful, hollow lie. Tears blurred the screen of my phone. The last message from Nora, an attached photo, was the thing that finally shattered the last thread of my sanity. In the picture, Matthew was on one knee, dressed in a sharp tuxedo and bow tie, tenderly kissing Nora’s hand. And Nora was radiant in a magnificent white wedding gown. They looked perfect together. [I bet you didn’t know this, did you?] she wrote. [The same day you two were filmed at the train station? He and I were taking our wedding photos.] That day. I had taken the train to another city to consult a specialist for Matthew’s asthma. “I should just cancel my meetings,” he’d murmured, his voice thick with reluctance as he pressed his forehead to mine. “I hate that you have to go alone.” My heart had swelled with love. “Don’t be silly! You already came all the way to the station with me, you even bought an extra platform ticket. You’re spoiling me!” “Every extra second with you is worth it,” he’d whispered. That moment, captured by a stranger’s lens, the moment I thought was a snapshot of our perfect happiness… it was a lie from the very beginning. I wiped the tears from my eyes with the back of my hand. Oh, Matthew. If that’s how we’re playing this, then I have a gift for you, too. Matthew came home right after I posted our marriage certificate online. I had fallen asleep on the sofa and woke to find him in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, making breakfast. He saw me, froze for a moment, then sighed and looked down. “Why are you barefoot again?” he asked softly, his voice laced with a guilty sort of weariness. He moved to kneel, a familiar, practiced motion. But just before his fingers could touch my ankle, I pulled my foot back and slipped it into my slippers. His hand hovered, frozen in mid-air. “Thank you,” I said, my tone polite, distant. For some reason, my courtesy seemed to infuriate him. “The things they’ve been saying online these past two days… they’re disgusting,” he said, his voice ragged with frustration. “Why didn’t you call me?” I gave him a cool, placid look. “You were busy with the wedding. I can handle it myself.” A flash of shock crossed his face. But when he realized I had brought up the wedding myself, the tension in his brow eased. He reached up, his movements fluid and confident, to tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear. I flinched back. The small movement seemed to wound him deeply. His face crumpled with regret. “Ava, I’m so sorry. That slap… I was out of my mind. Please, don’t be afraid of me. I lost control, and I regret it more than you can imagine.” He grabbed my hand, his words tumbling out in a desperate rush. “Let me be honest with you, okay? Nora was just angry that you embarrassed her in front of all those people. She pushed your video back into the spotlight behind my back. The moment I found out, I took care of it. And I read her the riot act.” “She knows she was wrong. She promised me she’d never do anything like it again.” He was apologizing now, right after I’d revealed our marriage certificate. It was hard not to suspect he was just afraid I’d press charges. But it didn’t matter anymore. I nodded, pulling my hand from his grasp. “Okay.” His brow furrowed, and he recaptured my hand, his grip possessive, as if to prove that his love for me was unchanged. The gesture reminded me of a hundred other arguments. I would always pull away, using physical distance to mask my vulnerability. And he would always see through my brittle defenses, stubbornly pulling me back into his arms. I looked at him, my voice even. “Matthew. Is there anything else you’re hiding from me?” Just tell me the truth, I pleaded silently. And I will let you go with dignity. He met my gaze, his eyes shining with what looked like absolute sincerity. “There’s nothing else, Ava. I swear.” “There never will be again. My past, my future… it’s all yours.” I smiled, a genuine, liberating smile. “Good.” Because my future will have no place for you. The wedding day drew closer. As tradition dictated, we weren’t supposed to see each other for the week leading up to it. His friends threw him a bachelor party, but Matthew was uncharacteristically distracted, his eyes constantly on his phone. “You’re seeing her tomorrow, man. Do you have to stare at your phone all night?” one of his friends teased. Matthew offered a weak smile. “You wouldn’t get it, you’re single.” His friend laughed, not offended in the slightest. “I gotta hand it to you, Matthew. Getting a woman as proud as Ava to just accept you carrying on with Nora right under her nose, without a single fight? You’re my hero, man!” Another guy chimed in. “What are you talking about? He just thinks of Nora as a niece.” “A niece you can kiss and cuddle? Hahaha, that’s some forbidden fruit right there!” The room erupted in laughter. Matthew, like any man, basked in the ego-stroking, but my brief, ordinary texts sent a strange unease crawling under his skin. “Watch your mouths,” he warned, his tone suddenly serious. “My only wife is Ava. Nora is in the past.” On the day of the wedding, his anxiety intensified. But then he saw the custom light fixtures I had designed myself. He saw the venue overflowing with pink roses, my favorite flower. He relaxed, laughing at himself for being so nervous he was rubbing his thumb raw. He watched the beautiful bride walking toward him, a vision in white. He made a silent vow to cherish me for the rest of his life. When the officiant told him to lift the veil, Matthew’s hands trembled with eager reverence. He swept the delicate fabric aside. And his face went ghost white. The bride beamed up at him, her eyes shining with manic joy. “Uncle Matthew! I’m finally marrying you!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “387049”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My lucky streak started the day I found a stray poodle. It wasn’t just landing my company’s biggest contract or the promotion and raise that followed. It was catching the eye of a wealthy matriarch who decided I was the perfect match for her son. She offered me cars, a house, and promised to sign over the entire family fortune to our firstborn. I was ready to refuse, but when she showed me a photo of her son—currently away on business—this certified sucker for a handsome face was sold. The wedding was arranged in a whirlwind, but the groom missed his flight and never made it. His mother, my new mother-in-law, had me walk down the aisle with the poodle in my arms and, right there at the altar, transferred an extra million dollars into my account as a wedding gift. Just like that, I married into high society. A few days later, my roommate pushed me off our apartment building’s rooftop. “We both saw that dog!” she screamed, her face a mask of rage. “Why do you get the fairytale wedding while I get nothing? If you die, I can start over! I can have it all!” When I opened my eyes again, I was standing on that same street corner. This time, I made sure she was the one to adopt the poodle. 1 “Oh, you poor little thing! Are you lost?” My roommate, Stella, a notorious neat freak, scooped up the filthy poodle that was circling our feet. Before I could even process what was happening, she shot me a sharp look. “Phoebe, I’m keeping this dog. Don’t you dare try to take him from me.” I saw the fierce determination in her eyes, a stark contrast to how things had played out the first time. I knew instantly: she was reborn, too. A triumphant smirk played on Stella’s lips. “I feel a real connection to this dog, like he’s a good luck charm. Who knows what he’ll bring me.” She paused, sizing me up. “I know you want him, but you already have two dogs. You can’t possibly handle a third, right?” I glanced at the poodle nestled in her arms and gave a slight shrug. “You’re right, I’m stretched thin as it is. If you want him, he’s all yours.” In my previous life, I only took him in because he followed us all the way home. I felt sorry for the matted, dirty creature, so I gave him a bath and some food. He never left. I had no idea that simple act of kindness would completely derail my life. At my words, Stella’s eyes lit up with an excitement she couldn’t hide. “You promise? No take-backs!” she said, her voice giddy. “Even if he helps me marry… well, whatever happens, you can’t get jealous!” She cut herself off, probably worried she’d say too much and I’d change my mind. After I swore a solemn oath that I wouldn’t regret it, she hugged the dog tightly and practically skipped home. At the same moment, a notification materialized in my mind. [Congratulations. You have been granted one chance to be reborn. The death of the key individual at this critical juncture will allow you to return to this moment and change your fate.] The message was a revelation. Rebirth wasn’t random; it was a power that could be activated. The trigger was the death of the other person who received the opportunity. No wonder Stella had said my death would let her start over. She had been given the same power. But from her reaction just now, it was clear she had no idea that I was reborn, too. The moment I walked through our apartment door, Stella blocked my path. “Phoebe, did you hear a weird noise just now?” she asked, her expression a mix of panic and anxiety. I knew exactly what she was talking about, but I just frowned. “What kind of noise? Is someone breaking in?” “No, it was like… a robot voice. It said something about being reborn… and death.” I rolled my eyes. “You’ve been reading too many fantasy novels, Stella. Rebirth isn’t real. You should stop daydreaming.” She scrutinized my face, searching for any hint of a lie. When she found none, she visibly relaxed. Humming a cheerful tune, she disappeared into her room. I watched her go, a small, cold smile touching my lips. She had no idea that this poodle had another name: the Wicked Fleece. I hoped she was ready to pay the price for taking him in. 2 That night, just as I was about to go to bed, a frantic knocking echoed from my door. “Phoebe, go give this filthy animal a bath! And make sure you scrub him clean!” Stella demanded. For some reason, the thought of touching that poodle filled me with a primal revulsion. “I have a report to finish for work. I don’t have time.” I tried to close the door, but she stuck her hand in the way. “What kind of attitude is that? You’d better watch your tone with me. When I make it big, if you’re lucky, I might hire you as my dog’s nanny!” As if on cue, the poodle trotted out of the bathroom and began humping her bare leg. Stella let out a frustrated shriek and kicked him away. The poodle slammed into the wall with a painful yelp. I winced but hardened my heart. “If you can’t handle it, take him to a groomer. They’re professionals.” I shut the door in her face, her muffled curses following me. In the days that followed, Stella not only started copying my style of dress, but she also began taking the poodle to work with her. At first, our colleagues cooed about how kind-hearted she was. That lasted less than a day. Because Stella didn’t bother with a leash or a crate, the poodle, clearly in heat, started marking its territory everywhere and lunging at people’s legs. “Stella, can you please control your dog? He just soaked my pant leg!” “Ugh, he got into my trash can and now there’s garbage everywhere.” “Damn it, Stella! He just peed on the copies I just made!” Stella ignored their complaints completely. Our manager was already on edge because a major client was due for a site visit. When he saw the chaotic state of the office, he exploded. “Stella! Who gave you permission to bring a pet to work?” he roared. “Do you have any idea how important this client is? Our entire second half depends on this deal! You have ten minutes to get this place cleaned up, or you and that dog can get out!” Stella, however, remained completely unfazed. She wasn’t even scared of the manager who used to terrify her. “I know exactly who’s coming,” she said with a smug little smile. “That’s why I brought him. And just so you know, without me, none of you would be closing this deal today. So, I’d appreciate it if you stopped yelling. Or you might not be a manager for much longer.” A stunned silence fell over the office, followed by snickers of disbelief. “Has she lost her mind? She’s an intern, talking to the manager like that.” “I think she’s genuinely unwell. Earlier she was telling everyone she’s about to marry into a rich family and that we’d better not cross her.” “Seriously? This is the girl who budgets her takeout orders down to the cent? Marry into a rich family? The only ‘old money’ she’s getting is the change she finds in the sofa.” But I knew. Stella wasn’t lying. The important client arriving any minute was the poodle’s owner: Eleanor Vance, the chairwoman of the Vance Corporation. Though furious, the manager was a seasoned veteran of the business world. Stella’s unwavering confidence gave him pause. “You’d better be right about this,” he warned, his voice low. After ordering the cleaning crew to do a rush job, he escorted Eleanor Vance and her entourage into the office. The poodle immediately darted to her feet, nipping at her trouser leg and yapping excitedly. A strange expression crossed Eleanor’s face, and a wave of fear washed over the room. The manager rushed to apologize. “Mrs. Vance, I am so sorry. I’ll handle this immediately. Stella, get over—” Before he could finish, Eleanor bent down and lifted the poodle into her arms. She examined him closely before turning her sharp gaze on Stella. “Is this your dog?” Stella stepped forward, her voice a timid whisper. “I’m so sorry. He’s usually very well-behaved. He’s such a poor, sweet thing. He would have starved if I hadn’t found him. Please, don’t hurt him.” Eleanor’s eyes scanned Stella from head to toe. “Hurt him? My dear, I should be thanking you. This is my lost dog. You are a very kind young woman. Name your reward. Anything you want, it’s yours.” Watching the scene unfold from a new perspective, I couldn’t shake the feeling that Eleanor’s expression wasn’t one of gratitude or admiration. Her words felt less like an offer and more like a hunter laying a trap. Stella, however, could barely contain her excitement. “Really? What a coincidence! I only took him in because I felt sorry for him, I never expected a reward. But… if you really want to thank me, I hope you’ll give our company’s proposal serious consideration. I stayed up for nights writing it myself.” Gasps rippled through the office. 3 Someone started to speak, but the manager silenced them with a single glare. Eleanor seemed surprised for a moment, then nodded. “If you’re in charge of the project, then let’s sign the contract. I trust that a person as kind as you must also be dedicated to her work.” She turned to leave, then paused and looked back. “Stella, is it? Join me for dinner tonight. I’ll have my driver pick you up.” The triumphant joy on Stella’s face was unmistakable. As soon as Eleanor was gone, the manager announced Stella’s promotion from intern to full-time employee. “Phoebe,” he said, turning to me, “give Stella your files. She’ll be taking over the project from here.” “But sir, this project was—” a colleague tried to defend me. The manager’s face darkened, and I quickly stopped her. I handed the thick folder to Stella, and the manager’s expression softened. “See? Phoebe’s a team player. She understands the big picture. When the company succeeds, we all succeed.” After he left, Stella strutted over to my desk like a proud peacock. “I bet you’re regretting it now, aren’t you, Phoebe? But it’s too late. You’re the one who gave him up.” Her voice dripped with malice. “Are you angry? Frustrated? The project you’ve worked on for six months is mine now. This is payback for not helping me last night!” She leaned in closer. “And let me tell you, soon I’ll be Mrs. Julian Vance. And you? You’ll be stuck slaving away in this miserable office for the rest of your life!” She then turned to the rest of the office. “And as for the rest of you corporate drones, you’d better start treating me with some respect. Once I’m a Vance, if I’m in a good mood, I might just throw a big client your way.” With that, she flounced out of the office. My colleagues erupted in a chorus of angry muttering. “She finds a lost dog and suddenly thinks she’s royalty? It was a one-time thing, does she really think this is her ticket to the high life?” “What a horrible person. Stealing Phoebe’s project like that. One stroke of luck and she thinks she’s better than everyone.” “She’s delusional. A rich woman was polite to her for five minutes and now she thinks she’s marrying into the family? Get real.” “Don’t worry, Phoebe. We’ll all be here to watch her come crawling back when reality hits.” I just smiled without saying a word. Because I knew that tonight, Eleanor Vance would indeed ask Stella to be her daughter-in-law. That’s why she was acting so insufferably arrogant. But a marriage born from a lost dog… could it really be that simple? Sure enough, two days later, Stella appeared at the office, dripping in jewels, to hand out wedding invitations. She stopped at my desk, looking down at me with disdain. “Phoebe, I’m sure you’re dying to come to my high-society wedding. After all, some people will never get an opportunity like this in their entire lifetime.” “Stella,” I said calmly, “I hear Mr. Vance is still abroad. You haven’t even met him. Don’t you think getting married so quickly is a bit… rushed? What if—” She cut me off. “Ha! I’ve seen pictures of Julian. He’s handsome and rich. Why wouldn’t I marry him? My mother-in-law said that even though it’s last minute, it will be a proper wedding with all the trimmings. You’re just jealous.” There was no point in arguing. As I reached for the invitation she held out, she let it slip from her fingers. It fluttered to the floor, and she promptly pinned it under her stiletto heel. “You want it? Shine my shoes, and it’s yours.” It wasn’t that I wanted the invitation. But I had too many unanswered questions, and I needed to get inside that hotel. After a few seconds of tense silence, I knelt and wiped her shoe. Stella burst out laughing at the sight of my submission. “That’s more like it!” She gave my shoulder a light kick before putting on her sunglasses and striding away. 4 The day of the wedding arrived. The venue was decorated exactly as I remembered. And, just like last time, the groom missed his flight. The hall was buzzing with gossip. Before Eleanor could say a word, Stella bravely announced that she would complete the ceremony alone. Eleanor, clearly impressed by Stella’s understanding and poise, readily agreed and transferred another million dollars to her account on the spot. With Julian absent, the reception ended with Stella heading to the bridal suite alone, clutching the poodle. The moment she was inside, I pulled out my phone and activated the hidden camera I had planted earlier, slipping into the room when the staff was distracted. On the screen, Stella squealed with delight at the balance in her bank account, rolling around on the large, red matrimonial bed. A moment later, Eleanor entered and told her to drink a glass of milk and get some rest. Soon after, Stella was fast asleep, still in her wedding dress. In my past life, I had also drunk the milk and passed out instantly. When I woke up the next morning, my clothes were strewn on the floor, and my body was covered in strange marks. Now, I was finally going to see what happened after I fell asleep. The next thing that appeared on the screen made my eyes go wide. A ghostly, transparent image of a man shimmered into existence above the bed. I watched in horror as the apparition’s hands roamed over Stella’s body, deftly unfastening her dress. His face was twisted in a lecherous grin, and he muttered obscene things under his breath. “Been a while since I had a taste of a real woman. God, I’ve been dying for this.” His spectral hands caressed her skin. “So soft… your hair smells so good, your skin… I’m going to take real good care of you…” Then, as if remembering something, his expression soured, and he slapped Stella across the face. “You bitch! You dared to kick me, again and again. Let’s see how you like it when I teach you a lesson!” Though he was just an apparition, angry red welts immediately appeared on Stella’s cheek. The voice was familiar, and as I studied the ghost’s features, I realized he looked exactly like the man in the photograph. He looked like Julian. In my past life, when I discovered the marks on my body, I had asked Eleanor about them. She told me her son Julian had come back during the night. They had consummated the marriage, but he’d had urgent business and had to fly out again immediately. I was inexperienced and too embarrassed to question a senior about such intimate matters, so I let it go. I never imagined that the “consummation” she spoke of was with a ghost. The apparition’s movements grew rougher. He ripped the skirt of Stella’s dress, showing no hint of tenderness. But just as he was about to descend upon her, he stopped. His eyes narrowed, his spectral face contorting with rage. “Damn it! You whore!” he snarled. “I thought she was pure… but she reeks. What a waste of my time.” I frowned. He had just been saying how good she smelled. Why the sudden change? Perhaps his enraged shouting was too loud, because Eleanor came back into the room. She saw Stella’s bruised and battered body and rushed to intervene. “Son, what’s wrong?” she cried. “We finally found a suitable woman. Take it easy! If you damage her body, how is she supposed to bear your child?” The ghost of Julian was seething. “Suitable? She’s not worthy! We’ve been tricked! She’s not pure, Mom. She reeks of other men. There’s no way she can carry my child.” This was even more confusing. I didn’t know anything about Stella’s personal life, but what did that have to do with having a child? Their next exchange gave me the answer. Eleanor frowned, sniffing the air. “What are you talking about? I don’t smell anything.” “Mom, would I lie to you? Have you forgotten? The master opened my spiritual senses. I can tell if a woman is a virgin just by her scent. This one covers it up with perfume, but once her clothes are off, the stench is unbearable. God knows how many men she’s been with. Mom, what do we do? We found the wrong one!” Eleanor looked just as bewildered. “How could we be wrong? The master was specific about the time and place where we would find a virgin with a pure yin constitution, perfect for you. He even said she would be kind, soft-hearted, and a lover of animals, and that she would surely take you home.” “Everything matched the time and place where Stella found you. How could it be a mistake?” Hearing this, I clapped a hand over my mouth to stifle a gasp. If what they were saying was true… their original target was me. My rebirth had thrown them off course, and Stella had taken my place. But even if I did have this “pure yin constitution,” why was it so important for me to have Julian’s child? The next words I heard sent a deathly chill down my spine.

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1. My wife and daughter had stumbled into the abandoned minefield on the back hills. Panic ripped through our small town. The urgent, distorted voice of the town’s emergency broadcast crackled to life, a desperate plea that echoed through the valley: “Jake Miller! You’re the only one who can defuse those military-grade mines! Get to the back hills! Your daughter needs you!” My neighbors dragged me from a poker game, their hands rough on my arms as they shoved me toward the hills. Through the barbed wire fence, I could see my daughter, her face smeared with blood and tears. “Dad, please, help us!” she screamed, her voice thin with terror. “You’re the inly one who can do this…” My face went pale. I grabbed my defusal kit and charged forward. The whole town thought I was rushing to save my family. But I wasn’t. I veered off, crouching down, moving slowly toward a small white mouse trapped in the corner of the field, its leg caught in the tripwire of a mine. “This kit,” I muttered to myself, “can only be used once.” And I was choosing to save the mouse. My daughter watched, her face crumbling in disbelief as I moved toward the animal. “Dad, are you crazy?” she shrieked. “What about me? I’m your daughter!” Her voice was a raw, hysterical cry of despair. “You’re saving a rodent instead of me?” My wife, Sarah, stared at me, her face ashen. “Jake, I’ve been a good wife to you all these years. How could you abandon us now for a mouse?” The townspeople watched, their faces a mixture of confusion and disapproval. I ignored them all. I gently freed the mouse, cupping it in my hands and brushing the dust from its white fur. “Jake, now that you’ve saved the animal, are you coming to save us?” Sarah’s voice was thick with unshed tears. I looked over at her and shrugged. “Forgot to mention,” I said, my voice casual, “the detector on this thing only works once.” Her eyes widened in horror. “Then what about me and Lily? What are we supposed to do?” Her voice escalated into a shrill scream. “Jake, I know you can build a new one! You know what these mines can do! You’re the only one in this whole town who can save us!” She was sobbing, her cries echoing in the tense silence. I just carefully set the mouse down and watched it scurry away, my gaze never once meeting theirs. It wasn’t until the villagers surrounded me, pushing and shoving, calling me heartless, that I finally turned around. I looked at the two weeping women and spat out, my voice dripping with annoyance, “You’re not dead yet, are you? What’s the rush? Trying to punch your ticket to the afterlife early?” Lily collapsed to her knees. “Dad, I don’t know what’s wrong with you. You used to love me more than anything. Are you really not going to save me?” She bowed her head, her forehead hitting the dusty ground. “I know you were away in the army for most of my life, but I’ve always loved and respected you. Is this because I said I wanted to marry that boy from the next town over? I won’t! I’ll do whatever you want! Just please, save me and Mom!” Sarah’s voice was a hoarse whisper. “Jake, this is nothing for you. I’ve seen you assemble those kits. It takes you three minutes! Do you have a heart? Are you really going to watch your wife and daughter die?” I had never seen her so broken, not in all our years of marriage. I just sat down on the ground, yawned, and pulled a deck of cards from my pocket. “We didn’t finish our game, Bill,” I said to my neighbor. “I had a straight flush.” Bill’s face paled. “Jake, that’s your wife and child in there! How can you be like this?” “They walked in there themselves,” I said coldly, not even bothering to look at him. “It’s their own damn fault. Am I supposed to take the blame for their stupidity?” Sarah’s eyes turned red. “Jake Miller! I thought we had a good marriage,” she screamed, her voice trembling. “I can’t believe you’d just leave us here to die!” She laughed, a bitter, broken sound. “Fine! I’ll walk out myself. If I die, Lily can use my body as a bridge!” “Good,” I said without looking up. “Go ahead and die.” Sarah froze, her foot hovering in the air. She slowly pulled it back, her face a mask of terror. Lily, in her panic, had fallen. Her face was a mess of dirt and blood. “Dad, if you don’t clear a path, we’re not getting out of here,” she sobbed. “I’m your only daughter. Are you really just going to watch me die?” One of our neighbors couldn’t take it anymore. “Jake,” he said, his voice pleading, “I’ve got some old supplies from my army days. I’ll bring them to you. Just please, save Sarah and Lily.” I shot him a look that could freeze fire. “When did I say I was going to save them?” Sarah’s tears flowed freely. They were both injured from an earlier blast when they had tried to retreat, and now they were too scared to move. Sarah’s right hand was gone, a bloody stump wrapped in a makeshift bandage. She pointed at me with her mangled arm, her voice choked with tears. “Jake, how can you be so cruel?” Lily’s voice joined hers, a chorus of accusation. “Dad, I’ve always been a good daughter to you! You could save us, but you used your only chance on an animal! Now Mr. Johnson is offering you more supplies and you won’t even lift a finger! Are you even human?” “I’m the only one with the skills,” I said, my voice flat and bored. “I save who I want to save. Besides, what were you two doing in the minefield in the first place? You make a stupid mistake and now you expect me to risk my life to clean up your mess? You’re grown women. It’s time you learned to take responsibility for your own lives. Begging me won’t do you any good.” “Jake,” Sarah’s voice trembled, “even if you won’t save me, Lily is your own flesh and blood! How can you watch her die?” I laughed, a cold, empty sound. “You’re the one who led her in there. You didn’t seem to care much about her life then. Don’t you dare talk to me about ‘family.’ My life is valuable. I’m not wasting it on you two.” I threw my cards on the ground in frustration. “Bill, I had a winning hand. You’re not trying to get out of paying me, are you? How about another round?” The villagers stared at me, their faces turning from shock to fury. One of the younger men stepped forward. “Jake Miller, we used to respect you. We called you ‘chief’ because we thought you were a decent man. But you won’t even save your own family. You’re not a man at all. We know you were a demolitions expert in the army. This is nothing to you. We’ve got the supplies. Why won’t you help them? Is your heart made of stone?” Before I could answer, a couple of them lunged at me, pushing me to the ground. I didn’t even flinch. I just slowly got to my feet, brushing the dust off my clothes with a contemptuous smile. “So, Bill, are we playing or not? If not, you at least owe me for the gas I spent getting here.” “Jake,” Sarah’s voice was raw, “why do you hate me so much? Whatever it is, we can sort it out later. Please, just save us!” I glanced at her, my voice dripping with scorn. “Weren’t you going to make a path for Lily with your dead body? Get to it.” I picked up my cards and dealt myself a new hand. A royal flush. I smiled. Lily stared at me, her face a mask of utter despair. She fell to her knees and began to beg, her forehead hitting the ground again and again. “Dad, please! I’ll be your slave for the rest of my life! I’ll never get married, I’ll take care of you forever! Just save us!” Her leg was a bloody mess, blood pooling around her torn jeans. But still, she knelt, her back straight, her eyes pleading. The sight of them, covered in blood, was horrific. Some of the villagers were crying, their hands over their mouths. “Jake Miller, are you a monster?” someone finally roared. “That’s your wife! Your daughter!” The shouting was getting on my nerves. I pushed through the crowd and yelled at Bill, “Alright, go get your damn kit!” A wave of relief washed over the crowd. “See?” someone said, “I knew he couldn’t be that heartless. Sarah and Lily must have done something to really piss him off. He was just teaching them a lesson.” Bill scrambled to bring me the supplies. I took the kit and looked at it. “This is the last one?” He nodded gravely. “The last one. You’ve only got one shot.” I nodded back and quickly assembled the new detector. Sarah and Lily watched, their faces filled with a desperate, fragile hope. I smiled at them, my voice light, as if the past hour had never happened. “Scared you, didn’t I? I just wanted to remind you not to come back here again.” Lily nodded vigorously. Sarah’s eyes were red. “Jake, I knew you wouldn’t leave us…” The next second, I walked to the edge of the cliff overlooking the ravine and, without a moment’s hesitation, threw the newly assembled kit over the edge. It shattered on the rocks below. Everyone froze. That was the last kit. Without it, Sarah and Lily were dead. The crowd erupted. “Jake Miller! You’re not a man, you’re a monster! You don’t deserve to be our town chief!” “You’re a cold-blooded bastard!” “I’m writing a letter to the county! I’m getting you removed from office!” I just stood there, facing their fury, and grinned. “Don’t forget,” I said, my voice calm and steady, “every single one of your businesses, your livelihoods… I brought that to this town. You want me gone? Fine. But don’t come crying to me when you’re starving.” Silence. They stared at me, their faces white with rage, but no one dared to say another word. Lily was losing a lot of blood. Her face was pale, her lips blue. She was fading. But with her last bit of strength, she screamed at me, “You don’t deserve to be my father! Even an animal protects its young! You’re a murderer!” She tried to stumble toward me, forgetting where she was. A deafening blast ripped through the air. Dust and smoke billowed up, and with it, a spray of red. “LILY!” Sarah’s scream was a sound of pure agony. When the smoke cleared, all that was left of Lily was her lower body. Her eyes were still open, staring at me with a look of pure, undiluted hatred. Sarah, covered in her daughter’s blood, crawled toward the remains. “Jake Miller,” she shrieked, “you killed your own daughter!” I just stood there and slowly, calmly, lit a cigarette. Sarah collapsed, a pool of blood spreading out from under her. The villagers finally lost it. “You’re worse than an animal, Miller!” “There’s a special place in hell for you!” Forgetting about their livelihoods, they began to draft a petition to have me arrested. That night, the county government took notice. A special investigation team was dispatched to our town. “Good,” I thought, taking a long drag from my cigarette. “Things are finally getting interesting. Now the truth can come out.” It took two days for the rescue team to get my wife out of the minefield. My daughter was long gone, just a charred pile of remains. As they carried Sarah out on a stretcher, she looked at me with eyes full of venom. “It was you, Jake,” she hissed. “You refused to save our daughter. You destroyed our only hope. If it wasn’t for you, Lily would still be alive.” I shrugged. “What’s it got to do with me? You’re the one who took her in there. You killed her, not me.” Sarah gasped, clutching her chest, and passed out. The lead investigator stepped forward. “Mr. Miller,” he said, his voice cold, “we’ve received numerous complaints against you. We’re here to investigate whether you intentionally harmed your family and refused to provide aid. Our background check shows that Sarah and Lily Miller have been nothing but a devoted wife and daughter. Everyone speaks very highly of them. They were always respectful and caring toward you. We want to know why you stood by and did nothing when you had the power to save them. You saved a mouse, but not your own family. Was it because your daughter wanted to marry someone you didn’t approve of? Is that why you wanted her dead?” I blew a smoke ring in his face. “This is a family matter. Are you really going to interfere?” A woman from the village pushed through the crowd. “He’s a heartless bastard!” she screamed, pointing at me. “Lily was such a good girl! She was the best kid in this whole county! Every time her teacher gave out treats, she’d save them for him! And he just let her die!” Sarah opened her eyes, her voice a trembling whisper. “I don’t know what happened to him. I don’t want anything from him anymore. I just want a divorce. I’m taking the TV, the refrigerator, everything. I’m not leaving you a damn thing.” I looked at her and smiled, a cold, cruel smile. “What makes you think any of that is yours? A divorce? You think you have any say in the matter?” I leaned in close, my voice a low whisper. “Is that your picture on our marriage certificate, Sarah?” Her eyes flew open, her face draining of all color. She stared at me, her eyes wide with terror. I just smiled. “It’s finally over.” I gestured toward the hospital entrance. Two figures, dressed in rags, were standing there. Sarah saw them, and a tremor ran through her body. Her pupils dilated, her mouth fell open.

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My foster brother stood at the gate of St. Jude’s, his shirt faded. But my sister Nina, who always loved shiny things, ran past me and hugged him, sweetly calling him “brother.” I knew then—she had also been reborn. In our past life, when choosing between the wealthy Dyers and the poor Millers, Nina shoved me aside for the limousine. “I won’t live miserably. You can, sister,” she sneered. She got her luxury but died miserable on the streets years later. Meanwhile, I earned a scholarship, studied abroad with my foster brother Liam, married him, and built a happy life. Now, with a second chance, Nina chose differently. I looked at Liam, waiting for a word. Instead, he shielded her and warned me coldly, “Stay away from my sister.” As Nina smirked, I turned toward the Dyer’s limousine. Fine. I was ready for a different life too. 1 “This way, Miss.” The Dyers had sent no one but a driver. As the city scrolled by, he recited a list of house rules I was to follow upon arrival. Soon, the car purred to a stop before a villa that looked more like a palace. I followed the driver inside. “Ma’am, I’ve brought her.” An elegant woman drinking tea on a plush sofa lifted her head. Her eyes scanned me from head to toe before she beckoned me closer. “Come here.” “What’s your name?” “Elara.” She nodded, a flicker of approval in her eyes. “Good. From now on, you’ll be Elara Dyer.” “Alfred, show her to her room.” “Right away, Madam.” I followed the butler, my steps echoing softly on the gleaming marble floors. The banister of the grand staircase was carved from rich, dark sandalwood. Everything reeked of opulent luxury. But these were all things I had earned for myself in my previous life through sheer hard work. The spectacle didn’t faze me. The butler glanced back, a hint of surprise in his expression. He pushed open a door, revealing a princess-like bedroom. “Miss, this will be your room from now on.” “Please, rest for a while. I will return shortly.” He bowed slightly and left, closing the door behind him. I stepped inside, my eyes sweeping over the room. It was exquisite. Clearly, the Dyers didn’t skimp, even on an adopted daughter. Every detail screamed high-society refinement. A deep thrill shot through me. In my past life, with no powerful family to back me, I had clawed my way up, step by painstaking step, to afford a life like this. This time, with the Dyer name behind me, I could achieve so much more. 2 My thoughts were shattered by a shout from the hallway. The door flew open, and a basketball came hurtling toward me, smacking me hard on the head with a dull thud. “Hey, charity case, toss me my ball.” A cocky, arrogant voice rang out behind me. I turned slowly. A boy, about my age but taller and built with a careless confidence, stood there. He had his chin tilted up, radiating an air of superiority. If I remembered correctly, this was the sole heir of the Dyer family, Wyatt Dyer. A typical rich kid, obsessed with extreme sports like racing and skydiving, with zero interest in the family business. In my past life, a racing accident had crushed his legs, leaving him paralyzed and his temper permanently soured. “Hello? You deaf or something? Didn’t you hear me?” he snapped, his voice laced with impatience. I shook myself back to the present, picked up the basketball, and held it out to him. Remembering the driver’s instructions, I kept my voice soft. “Here you go… brother.” He flinched. “Playing nice already? Don’t think that’ll get you a piece of the Dyer fortune.” He scoffed and walked away. In the days that followed, I rarely saw Mrs. Dyer. Wyatt was a ghost, never in the same place twice. Alfred, the butler, showed me around the sprawling estate. Once I had my bearings, he handed me a schedule. It was a dense grid of business management courses. “These are your upcoming lessons. Starting tomorrow, you will have one-on-one tutoring on corporate management. Mrs. Dyer has arranged everything. All you need to do is study hard. Do this well, and you will be rewarded in the future,” he explained coolly. “Can you handle that?” This was material I hadn’t touched in my previous life until Liam and I were starting our own company. To learn it now, at fifteen? I was ecstatic. “Of course,” I nodded. A flicker of surprise crossed his face, but he said nothing more and continued with his instructions. To ensure I didn’t fall behind in my regular studies, Mrs. Dyer also hired a private tutor for my middle school curriculum. But I had already mastered this material in my past life, so it was a breeze. In just a year, I had absorbed all the new knowledge and was applying it with ease. “This child is a remarkably fast learner,” the tutor gushed to Mrs. Dyer. “She’s not only mastered the high school curriculum but is also grasping the complex principles of business management. It’s astounding.” I sat quietly to the side, listening. “At this rate,” he continued, beaming, “she won’t even need to attend high school. She could go straight to a university abroad.” But that wasn’t Mrs. Dyer’s plan. She wanted me to go through high school with Wyatt, then have us attend college abroad together. She framed it as us “looking out for each other,” but I knew the truth. She wanted me to rein in her untamable son. Mrs. Dyer paid the tutor generously, and when she looked at me again, her eyes held a new level of approval. “Come here, Elara.” She pulled me down to sit beside her and handed me an acceptance letter. “You’ve done well. Wyatt’s grades are a disaster. I need you to help him. The bar isn’t high—just get him to pass.” “Once you both graduate, I’ll send you abroad. How does that sound?” Her proposition was direct, with no sugarcoating. Without hesitation, I replied, “Thank you, Mom.” Her eyebrows shot up, a genuine smile spreading across her face. She squeezed my hand. “Good girl.” 3 As a reward, Mrs. Dyer gave me a credit card and a day off to myself. It was the first real break I’d had since arriving. The driver dropped me off in the bustling city center, and I stepped out alone. I hadn’t walked more than a few steps when a familiar figure caught my eye. It was Nina—or Nina Miller, now. She was standing under the blazing sun, handing out flyers. The Millers were poor; I knew they barely had enough to get by. It was no surprise she was forced to work. My last life had been the same. During summer breaks, I juggled three part-time jobs while trying to keep up with my studies, not to mention all the chores for my foster parents. They claimed to treat us equally, but they never let Liam lift a finger. I only found out later that they hadn’t adopted me because they wanted a daughter. They’d wanted a free laborer. “Hello, would you like to see this—” A flyer was thrust in front of me. Nina’s voice died in her throat when she looked up and saw me. “Elara?” Her gaze flickered over my designer clothes and my well-cared-for skin. A flash of raw jealousy crossed her face before she forced a smile. “Well, you look like you’re living the good life. But don’t say I didn’t warn you. The Dyers will chew you up and spit you out. Mrs. Dyer is far more terrifying than you can imagine. You’ll see soon enough.” “Oh.” My flat response seemed to annoy her. She immediately began to brag. “My new mom and dad are wonderful to me. I feel so fulfilled every day. And my brother helps me with my homework. Oh, speaking of which, we were both accepted into Northwood High on special merit this year.” Northwood High… The acceptance letter Mrs. Dyer had just given me was also for Northwood. It was a school for the elite, for kids with powerful families—and a handful of exceptionally brilliant scholarship students. In my past life, Liam and I were those scholarship students. “Our lives are only going to get better and better,” Nina declared, her voice filled with a strange certainty. “While you… you’re doomed to die a miserable death on the streets.” I parted my lips to say something, but a voice cut me off. “Nina!” “Liam! You’re here!” Nina’s face lit up as she threw herself into his arms. Liam was holding a lunch box. “Mom sent me with your lunch. It’s too hot out here. Let me take over for a while.” “It’s okay, Liam. I can do it.” The Millers would pinch every penny to send Liam to expensive tutoring sessions, but they wouldn’t let Nina rest for a moment. I knew that kind of exploitation all too well. “You work too hard,” Liam said softly. Then, he noticed me standing nearby. “Liam, this is my sister, Elara. You saw her at the home,” Nina introduced me. Liam’s eyes swept over me, his expression cold and tinged with disgust. He ignored me completely, turning back to Nina. “Stay away from shady people like her. Let’s go.” Without giving me a chance to speak, he pulled Nina away. “Liam, why were you so harsh? You might have scared her.” “You’re too naive, Nina,” his voice drifted back, sharp and cutting. “Someone like that is trouble. Stay away from her, or she’ll stab you in the back one day.” The sharp words stung. I didn’t understand his baseless hostility, but the flicker of pain it caused was brief. Using the card Mrs. Dyer had given me, I went on a shopping spree. 4 When I walked out of the department store, my arms laden with shopping bags, Nina’s face turned green with envy. “Hmph. What’s there to be so proud of?” she muttered. “You’re just going to end up dead anyway. Not like me and my brother. We’re going to build a huge company one day.” I smiled at her naivety and headed back to the Dyer mansion. In truth, none of the gifts were for me. They were for Mrs. Dyer, Wyatt, and the household staff. When I got back, Wyatt was surprisingly home. He saw me and sneered. “Well, look at this. How long have you been here, and you’re already hauling stuff in like you own the place? Do you really think our family’s money is yours?” “Wyatt!” Mrs. Dyer’s voice was a sharp warning. “She is your sister.” Wyatt rolled his eyes. “Since when? I don’t have a hick for a sister. It’d be embarrassing to be seen with her.” He’d always been hostile, and I knew better than to provoke him. I started unpacking the bags, presenting each gift. “Mom, this is for you.” I handed her a box containing a delicate silk scarf. Next, I gave gifts to Alfred and the other servants who had looked after me. I saw a look of genuine appreciation on Mrs. Dyer’s face, while the staff seemed both shocked and pleased. Wyatt’s face soured. “Pathetic. You really think a few cheap gifts can buy them over? As if you’re—” “Brother, this is for you.” Ignoring his tirade, I held out the last gift. It was a detailed model of a race car. “I heard from Mom that you like racing. I saw this at the mall and thought of you.” He paused, taken aback. He mumbled something under his breath and snatched the box from my hand. 5 The first day of school arrived faster than I expected. I was about to call a cab when I saw the family car idling by the curb. A small spark of joy lit inside me. I hurried over. “Brother!” “Who’re you calling brother? I told you, I’m not your brother,” Wyatt snapped, yanking the car door open. “What took you so long? Get in. My time is precious.” “Okay, okay.” I slid in beside him and handed him the breakfast our cook had packed. “Mom said we each get one.” A flicker of something unreadable crossed his face. “Who needs breakfast?” he grumbled, but he took it anyway. I raised an eyebrow. He was all talk, wasn’t he? Before we got out of the car, he shot me a warning look. “Listen, at school, you don’t tell anyone you’re my sister. You don’t tell anyone we know each other. Got it? Or else…” With that final threat, he slammed the door and stalked off. “Don’t mind him, Miss,” the driver said kindly. “The young master has always been like this.” I just shook my head and got out of the car. And just my luck, two familiar figures were standing by the school gate. Liam’s handsome, aloof demeanor had already attracted a crowd of admiring girls, who swarmed around him and Nina. “Did you hear? That’s the top-ranked student in the city this year. He’s a genius! And his sister is amazing too, ranked fifteenth.” “I’m so jealous. I wish I had a brother like that.” Based on my entrance exam scores, I was placed in the top class—Class 1—the very same class as Liam and Nina. Wyatt, on the other hand, was dumped in the very last class. Nina strutted over to me, a smug look on her face. “What a coincidence, sister. I can’t believe we’re in the same class. Then again, with the Dyers’ power, getting you in here was probably easy. Not like my brother and me, who had to work our butts off.” She glanced around theatrically. “By the way, where’s that good-for-nothing Dyer heir? Knowing his mother, I bet she pulled strings to get him in here somewhere, right?” My brow furrowed. I was about to respond when I was cut off. “Nina!” Liam walked over, his eyes still holding that familiar look of distaste for me. He pulled Nina behind him. “I told you to stay away from her.” “Liam, she’s not a bad person,” Nina muttered, feigning innocence. “How would you know?” Liam retorted grimly. The day’s classes were a blur of information. I had no time for their drama, so I pulled out my business management notes and studied. At the end of the day, Wyatt and I met at the school gate as planned to go home together. Over the next few days, though he still acted reluctant, he started bringing me snacks from the food stalls near the school. One afternoon, he shoved a small cupcake into my hands. I stared at it, surprised. “I see the other girls in your class eating this stuff. What, you don’t like it?” he asked, a defensive edge to his voice. “I love it. Of course, I love it.” A smile bloomed on my face as I took it. The following week, he brought me something new every day—fries, fruit cups, yogurt… We were working our way through every stall near the school. As the semester wore on, our relationship slowly thawed. One day, I went to our usual meeting spot, my heart full of anticipation, but he wasn’t there. I searched the campus, a knot of unease tightening in my stomach. Then, I overheard a snippet of conversation. “Hey, did you hear? Wyatt Dyer agreed to a street race on Blackwood Mountain.” “For real?” “Yeah, man. The race is probably starting right now.” My blood ran cold. I finally remembered. In my past life, Wyatt had also been goaded into a race. His car had been tampered with. That, combined with the treacherous mountain terrain, led to a horrific crash. Because he didn’t get help in time, he was left paralyzed for life. I broke into a dead sprint, my lungs burning as I raced toward the mountain. By the time I arrived, the race had already begun. A large crowd was cheering, their shouts and screams deafening. A blur of speed shot past me, kicking up a cloud of dust. The next second, there was a deafening roar of twisting metal. The red sports car—Wyatt’s car—spun out of control right in front of me. It slammed head-on into the rocky cliffside. The crowd scattered like frightened birds. “WYATT!!” I scrambled toward the wreck. I was so close, just inches from pulling him out. Suddenly, a powerful force yanked me back, throwing me to the ground. “He your brother?” A brutish, snarling face loomed over me. “Call an ambulance! Please, my brother’s dying!” I screamed, my eyes fixed on Wyatt, who was crushed and motionless in the driver’s seat. My heart hammered against my ribs. “Your brother pissed me off. You think I’m gonna let you save him? Dream on.” A heavy hand slapped my cheek, not to hurt, but to humiliate. I shoved him away and slapped him back with all my might. “This is attempted murder! It’s illegal! I won’t let you get away with this!” I shrieked, hoping to intimidate them as I fumbled for my phone. The phone was ripped from my hand and thrown against the rocks. A vicious slap sent me sprawling to the ground. “Who do you think you’re yelling at, you little brat?” A heavy boot pressed down on my face, grinding it into the dirt. A wave of pain washed over me. Through a dizzying haze, I saw a familiar figure in the distance. It was Liam. “Liam, help me!” I screamed, pouring every last bit of my strength into the cry. He started walking toward us, but Nina grabbed his arm. “Liam, what are you looking at? This isn’t our business. Let’s go, come on! Those guys are dangerous.” I watched the expression on Liam’s face shift from struggle to grim acceptance. He gave me one last, long look, then turned and walked away. The thug picked up a heavy hammer from the trunk of a car. “Nobody’s ever dared to hit me before. Today, you’re gonna learn the price of that little slap.” My cries for help were swallowed by the wind. He raised the hammer high, and brought it crashing down.

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1 My fiancée was pregnant with her male colleague’s child. And she was due any day now. She walked through the door after a business trip, her belly swollen and round, just as I was putting the finishing touches on our new home. My voice was a raw tear in the quiet room as I demanded an explanation. She looked at me with wide, innocent eyes. “He was just a sperm donor, Ethan. When it comes to you, my conscience is clear.” Then, before I could even process the words, she left with that same colleague to go pick out a Children’s Day gift for the baby. I immediately sent a message to the family group chat: The wedding is off. But everyone, absolutely everyone, thought I was overreacting. Dia’s mother, Helen, texted me, her tone patient and condescending: Dia is beautiful and highly educated. Genes like that should be passed on. Think of it as a contribution to the world. Her father, Mark, was more blunt: She didn’t cheat on you. Why are you making a federal case out of it? My own father nearly had a heart attack. You stubborn fool! Do you know what a perfect match this is? You’re throwing it all away? My mother was sobbing over the phone. If you call this off, no one will ever marry you! “Then I’ll never get married!” I yelled back, my eyes burning. But a moment later, a message from someone else lit up my screen: So, Ethan. When do I get my promotion? … That evening, Dia came in, gently supported by the arm of her colleague, Leo. They were carrying a massive box overflowing with toys for their unborn child. They exchanged a look, their faces glowing with the shared joy of impending parenthood. When he saw me, Leo smiled and held out a small, gift-wrapped box. “Ethan, I picked this out especially for you. I didn’t realize how much this was bothering you… Please, accept this as my apology.” I didn’t even look at it. I swept it from his hand and tossed it directly into the trash can. Leo’s smile froze. Tears welled in his eyes and began to stream down his face. “Ethan… I… I’m so sorry.” He choked on a sob and hid behind Dia. Dia immediately stepped in front of him, a shield against my anger. She looked at me with weary exasperation. “Ethan, don’t be like this.” “Leo was just participating in a company initiative to donate superior genetic material. Besides, his mother has lung cancer, and her dying wish is to see a grandchild… and I happened to want a child as exceptional as he is.” “We’re just colleagues. That’s all.” “Colleagues?” My voice shook. “Do colleagues text each other ‘good morning’ and ‘good night’ every single day? Do colleagues share a private music playlist? Do colleagues take the fall for each other at work dinners and then go miles out of the way to drive each other home?” She pinched the bridge of her nose, exhausted. “Here we go again. I’ve explained all of this. You’re the one who’s always so paranoid, always overthinking things.” A bitter laugh escaped my lips. Her explanations were pathetic. Normal office chatter. A senior just looking out for a junior. They were full of holes, but I had chosen to believe them, again and again. Five years. I couldn’t let five years of my life end like this. Gritting my teeth, I pointed at her belly, pushing her. “Fine. Let’s say I’m overthinking it. Let’s say I’ve misunderstood everything.” “Get rid of the child. Then I’ll pretend none of this ever happened, and the wedding will go on as planned.” “No way!” Dia’s voice shot up, sharp and furious, before she visibly reined it in. “The child is Leo’s. I don’t have the right to decide its fate.” Leo’s face went chalk-white. He dropped to his knees in front of me with a soft thud. His hands protectively cradled Dia’s stomach, his voice thick with tears. “Ethan, there’s nothing going on between Dia and me. The baby… he’s eight months old. I can feel him kicking my hand right now. I can’t… I can’t…” He wept uncontrollably, his whole body trembling. Dia’s face was a mask of conflict. After a few agonizing seconds, her resolve crumbled. She helped him to his feet, a tired, defeated smile on her face. “Ethan, asking me to get rid of the baby now… that’s like asking me to rip out his heart.” I stared at her, a cold smirk twisting my lips. “What’s the matter? Does it hurt to see him so upset?” Dia flinched, her expression turning to one of pain. “I never thought you could be so cruel. If this is your condition for marriage, then we’re clearly not meant to be… Let’s break up.” “Ethan, Dia is innocent! Don’t take your anger out on her!” Leo suddenly wailed. “Blame me! I can’t bear to lose the baby… but I’ll prove our innocence with my life!” Before the words were even out of his mouth, he bolted for the balcony, making a show of climbing over the railing. My heart leaped into my throat. I lunged forward. But Dia was faster, scrambling after him in a panic. Before either of us could reach him, Leo collapsed onto the floor, sobbing so hard he could barely breathe. Dia threw her arms around him, her own body shaking. After a long moment, she looked up, her eyes like chips of ice fixed on me. “Ethan! Your baseless accusations almost killed Leo!” She looked at me as if I were a stranger. “Leo’s mother is dying! Are you trying to kill him, too? You can stand there and watch, cold and unmoved, but I can’t.” Her voice trembled with rage. Gently, she helped Leo to his feet and turned to face me. “Get out of the way,” she commanded. I was frozen. “I didn’t mean…” “Leo… the baby… I think he’s coming,” Dia suddenly gasped, her eyes rolling back as she fainted. “Dia!” Leo’s face was a deathly white. He shoved me aside with surprising force, scooped Dia into his arms, and sprinted out the door. I stumbled and fell to the floor, biting my lip so hard I could taste blood, but it did nothing to stop the icy chill spreading through my chest. I stared at the ceiling until dawn. Finally, my phone lit up. It was a message from Dia. I was just panicked last night. I said some things I didn’t mean. Ethan, I’m sorry. A bitter sting filled my nose, and tears flooded my eyes. For years, she was always the first to apologize after a fight, and I’d always let her have the easy way out. But this was different. This was a line I could never uncross. Before I could reply, another message came through. It was a photo of her with a newborn baby. She was cradling the tiny infant, her gaze soft and filled with a tenderness I had never seen. I went into labor early. Natural birth, but the baby is healthy. He looks just like Leo. I have to stay in the hospital for three days. Let’s just postpone the wedding by a week. I can’t deal with it right now. Every single word was a needle in my heart. Numbly, I stood up and began to tear down the wedding decorations. I took a pair of scissors and shredded her wedding dress into ribbons. My hands shook as I packed my bags. Just as I zipped my suitcase shut, Dia’s mother, Helen, walked in, her face beaming. “Dia asked me to bring her some clothes at the hospital. And of course, this new grandma is dying to meet her granddaughter.” When I didn’t respond, she linked her arm through mine affectionately. “Ethan, dear, I know Dia was wrong not to tell you. It was embarrassing for you. But at the end of the day, it’s not like she committed a mortal sin, right?” “I know how much you two love each other. You can’t let a little thing like this break you up. What you said in the group chat was just said in anger. Let’s forget all about it.” “Come on. Come to the hospital with me. Give Dia a chance to make it right, and we can put this all behind us.” I let her pull me along like a zombie. The next thing I knew, I was standing outside a hospital room. Leo was asleep on a cot, his pale face streaked with tears. The birth had clearly taken a lot out of him. Dia was holding the baby, humming a soft lullaby. Dia’s father, Mark, was actually smiling. “Dia’s a flight attendant. Let’s name the baby Skylar. She can carry on the legacy!” “Don’t be ridiculous,” Helen chided. “You can’t give a girl a name like that.” She reached for the baby, eager to hold her. Dia turned away. “Mom, you don’t know how to hold her. You’ll hurt her.” Her eyes caught sight of me, and she lit up. “Ethan, come see her! Look at her tiny hands and feet. Isn’t she adorable?” She leaned down to kiss the baby, then stopped abruptly, looking flustered like a child caught doing something wrong. “Oh, no, no. Mommy can’t give you her germs.” I’d never seen this playful, clumsy side of her before. This was her as a new mother: awkward and overflowing with love. She was desperate to show her joy to the world, but I was the one person who shouldn’t have been included in it. I forced a stiff smile and turned to leave. But Dia grabbed my arm, carefully holding the baby out for me to see. “Ethan, look. Her nose and her mouth… aren’t they the spitting image of Leo?” I glanced down. The tiny face was indeed a perfect miniature of Leo’s. The resemblance was a physical pain, a sharp jab to my eyes. A lump formed in my throat. I coldly pushed the swaddled infant away. Looking at Dia’s expectant face, I refused to give her the reaction she wanted. “Get it away from me. It’s ugly. I can’t stand looking at it.” The baby let out a piercing wail. Dia’s expression instantly turned to ice as she soothed the crying child. Helen’s glare was like a knife. “You’re the ugly one here!” Mark pointed to the door. “You’re not welcome. Get out!” I didn’t even realize Leo had woken up. “Ethan…” He looked pleadingly at Dia’s parents. “I’d like to speak with Ethan alone for a moment.” Once the door was closed, Leo’s face was a mask of apology. “Ethan, I don’t want to break you and Dia up. She really loves you. The truth is… that night, Dia was drunk, and we…” A roar filled my ears. “It wasn’t a donation?” He looked away. “Dia wanted to keep it from you. She was afraid you’d be upset.” “By the time she found out she was pregnant, it was already three months along. She was furious, said she was going to get rid of it. But my mother’s condition was getting worse, and she just wanted to know my line would continue. Dia felt sorry for me, so she agreed to keep the baby.” “So why are you telling me now?” I stared at him, my voice flat. “Why not just lie to me forever?” He clearly hadn’t expected me to call his bluff. His expression shifted, and he fell silent. I laughed, a harsh, grating sound. “Well, Dia and I have broken up now. Your child has been born. The three of you can live happily ever after. What else could you possibly want?” His expression twisted, a strange, triumphant smile playing on his lips. The next second, he deliberately rolled off the cot and fell to the floor with a heavy thud. He immediately started screaming in terror. “Ethan, I know I was wrong! Please, don’t hit me!” I was completely stunned. Before I could even react, I was violently yanked backward. CRACK! A searing pain exploded across my cheek. I tasted blood. Mark’s face was purple with rage as he pointed a trembling finger at me. “You bastard! You think you can start a riot in a hospital?” He raised his hand to hit me again, but Dia stopped him. “Dad, he’s my fiancé. I’ll handle this.” She led me into the hallway and gently applied an ice pack to my swollen face. I stared at the floor, mumbling, “I didn’t push him…” “Mm,” was all she said. No anger, no questions. I knew her too well. That silence was the loudest denial. If she believed me, she would have fought for me. If she didn’t, she said nothing. But if she didn’t believe me, why was she being so gentle? Tears escaped my eyes, falling onto the back of her hand. She flinched as if burned and snatched her hand away. She stood up. “If you’re just going to stay here and upset Leo and the baby, you should go home.” I grabbed the hem of her shirt, my voice cracking. “Just believe me this one time. Please?” She sighed, a deep, shuddering sound, and pried my fingers off her shirt, one by one. It was the gesture of someone who had given up completely. “Ethan, I can overlook what you’ve done. That’s how much I love you. But the least you could do is be honest with me.” A familiar ringtone shattered the silence—the sickly-sweet pop song she’d set as Leo’s custom ringer. How much further must I go to reach your heart… How much longer ‘til I can be close to you… I’d once asked her, “Isn’t it a little inappropriate to have a custom ringtone for a male colleague?” She had looked at me, bewildered. “Leo likes the song. It was nothing. Don’t overthink it.” I watched as she answered the call and walked away without a backward glance. I sat on the bench, my face throbbing, and started to laugh and cry at the same time, like a man who’d just been given a terminal diagnosis. She wanted honesty? Had she ever been honest with me? I went back to our apartment to get my suitcase. I was about to head to my parents’ place when a video call from them came through. My father was clutching his chest, his finger shaking as he pointed at the screen. “The Andersons just told us you went on a rampage at the hospital and attacked Leo while he was looking after Dia! What the hell is wrong with you? The hospital director is a friend of mine! He messaged the group chat asking what’s going on! You’ve completely humiliated our family!” He started gasping for breath, and my mother rushed to give him his medication. She turned to glare at me. “Dia explained everything. She and that young man are just colleagues. Why do you have to push them together like this?” She noticed the bruise on my face and sneered. “Serves you right.” “What did I do wrong?” I took a deep, shuddering breath, my voice hoarse. “Why do you believe them over me?” “Believe what? You haven’t said anything!” they yelled in unison. Looking at their unforgiving faces, all the fight went out of me. “Forget it.” I hung up before they could see my tears. I couldn’t bear to hear them say it again: Is crying all you know how to do? In that moment, I had nowhere to go. My phone buzzed. It was a message from Clara. So, Ethan. When do I get my promotion? Now. I typed it without a second thought. Clara had been a hopeless case in high school, always at the bottom of the class. Then, in our senior year, she transformed, studying relentlessly to get into the same university as me. What followed were years of her chasing me. A hundred confessions, a hundred rejections. Who would want to date a slacker who seemed proud of her bad grades? It didn’t matter that she was beautiful enough to stop your heart. After graduation, Dia and I got together. Clara moved to Switzerland to study, but the messages never stopped. Daily check-ins, little stories about her life, and the recurring question every few days: When do I get my promotion? I never replied, but she was like a tireless machine, never giving up. Thinking of this, I sent another message. We get married in three days. You’re the bride. You want the job or not? BANG! The apartment door was kicked open. Dia stood there, her face a thundercloud, her eyes locked on me. “Ethan! What the hell did you do to my clothes?” “What—” “Shut up!” She lunged at me, grabbing my wrist and slamming me against the wall. I had never seen her like this. Her eyes were bloodshot, her breath coming in ragged gasps. “I held the baby wearing the pajamas you brought me. Within ten minutes, she broke out in a full-body rash and went into respiratory failure! She’s in the ICU right now!” “She’s a newborn baby, Ethan! You give me a goddamn explanation!” “I didn’t do anything!” My wrist ached in her iron grip. I struggled. “Let go of—” Her hand flew toward my face. I instinctively flinched, turning my head. There was a sickening crunch as her fist slammed into the wall right beside my ear. When I opened my eyes, I saw blood trickling from her knuckles. My voice shook. “Dia… were you… were you really going to hit me?” She seemed to snap out of her rage, her grip loosening. She pulled me into a hug, her voice frantic. “Ethan, I… I panicked. I’m so sorry.” “I told you, I can forgive you for anything. But this time you’ve gone too far. Leo is a mess, he keeps saying he wants to die with the baby. Please, just go to him, get on your knees, and apologize. Will you do that?” A hot tear splashed onto my neck. “Just do it for me. I promise you, if you just apologize, we can still get married.” This was the woman who didn’t shed a tear when she broke three ribs in flight training. Now, she was crying. A woman only cries when she has a weakness. Leo and the baby were her weakness. I looked at her trembling shoulders and smiled. “Fine. I’ll go apologize.” She let out a breath, visibly relieved. “Let’s go to the hospital now.” She reached for my hand. I pulled away, my face a blank mask. “I can walk on my own.” “Okay,” she nodded, then added anxiously, “Hurry. I’m worried Leo is going to have a breakdown…” We had just reached the ICU waiting area when Leo fell to his knees, clutching my legs. “Ethan, please, you can take my life, just let the baby be okay.” He was sobbing hysterically. I was so tired of the act I could have laughed. I tried to pull him up. “Stop the performance. I should be the one kneeling. I’m begging you, your highness, to let me go. I don’t want Dia anymore. She’s all yours.” He looked up, a flash of triumph in his eyes before it was replaced by terror. “No, that’s not it. Dia will always be yours. I would never dare… I just want to live a quiet life with my baby.” “Get up!” I had lost all patience. He grabbed my hand. I yanked it away in disgust. He used the momentum to fall backward, his head hitting the linoleum with a loud crack. He let out a piercing shriek. “That’s enough!” Dia rushed over to help him up, looking at me like I was a monster. “Ethan, if you don’t want to apologize, then don’t come here! Leo has been up all night, he hasn’t eaten or slept. Our baby is fighting for her life, and you have the nerve to bully him?” I looked down, at a complete loss for words. It didn’t matter. She wouldn’t believe me anyway, would she? After a long silence, Dia laughed, a bitter, self-mocking sound. “Then again, what am I expecting? I saw you hurt him and the baby with my own eyes, time and time again. Just go home. You’re only making things worse here.” “The baby’s parents, I need to speak with you!” a doctor called out. Without a backward glance, Dia led Leo toward the doctor. The doctor shot me a disapproving look. “Bystanders, please keep the noise down.” That’s right. They were the parents. I was just a bystander. A superfluous extra. Twice in one day, I had come to this hospital only to humiliate myself. In their eyes, I must seem like a vicious, unhinged maniac. All the strength drained out of me. I staggered backward, right into a warm, steady embrace. Clara held me, her voice trembling with excitement. “So, Ethan. Is the promotion effective immediately?”

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1 After I traded my luck to my brother, he was no longer the slow, simple boy I grew up with. He became sharp, clever—the respected Mr. Aston, CEO of our family’s company. And I, once the gifted child, was left with the mind of a seven-year-old, so clumsy I could barely walk without stumbling. It pained him to see me fall and hurt myself, so he brought our housekeeper’s daughter, Maya, to live with us. “You’re the same age,” he told me, a gentle smile on his face. “I know you’ll be the best of friends.” I was so happy. I ran to get my favorite teddy bear to show her. But instead of a smile, she gave me a slap that sent me sprawling to the floor. “Are you an idiot?” she hissed, her face twisted in contempt. “You have all this jewelry, and you offer me a stupid toy? Are you trying to insult me?” She snatched the bear and, with a pair of scissors, sliced it open. The soft cotton stuffing spilled onto the carpet like snow. I burst into tears and called my brother, but I’d caught him at the worst possible time. His voice was cold, sharp with stress. “I’m exhausted, Monica. It’s a stupid bear. I’ll buy you another one. Can you please just stop making a scene?” The line went dead. I stood there, lost and confused. Had he forgotten? That little bear was the vessel, the very thing that held our traded luck. … Footsteps echoed behind me. A hand tangled in my hair and yanked my head back. Maya’s teeth were clenched. “You dare sneak off and call Mr. Aston? You’re asking for it!” A sharp pain exploded in my chest as her foot connected with my ribs, sending me flying into the wardrobe. My head swam. Through a haze of pain, I saw the ruined teddy bear lying beside me. I ignored everything else and scrambled to gather the tattered fabric. The bear couldn’t be broken. It couldn’t. The next second, a heavy weight crushed my hand. The pain was so intense, a scream tore from my throat. Maya ground her heel into my fingers, looking down at me with disdain. “Give me all your jewelry. A moron like you doesn’t deserve to wear it anyway.” Cold sweat beaded on my forehead. I beat at her foot with my free hand, but my body was weak. To her, it was like a fly buzzing around her ankle. Just as I was about to pass out, our housekeeper, Mrs. Gable, grabbed Maya’s arm. “Honey, you can’t go too far! What if Mr. Aston finds out?” “He dotes on this stupid sister of his. If he finds out, we’ll both be in hot water!” Maya scowled but reluctantly lifted her foot. Then, she turned her anger on my arm, her fingers digging into the soft flesh. “I can’t stand her,” she spat, her face contorted with rage. “Why is her life so much better than mine? Did she really think she could fob me off with a stupid toy? No way in hell!” My face was pale with pain. I wanted to tell her the bear wasn’t a gift—it was just something to show her. My brother, Julian, had already bought her a present, an expensive designer necklace. I just hadn’t had a chance to give it to her yet. Before I could speak, Mrs. Gable was already soothing her daughter. “I know where the little idiot keeps her jewelry. I’ll get it for you, sweetie.” Maya’s eyes lit up. “Well, what are you waiting for? Show me!” She let go of me and eagerly followed her mother to my jewelry box. I lay on the floor, tears of pain streaming down my face, but I never loosened my grip on the bear’s tattered remains. Its once-plump belly was now flat and empty. Its neck was torn. The only things intact were its two shiny black button eyes. I crawled to my feet and frantically tried to stuff the cotton back inside. It can’t be broken, I thought. If the bear is broken, Julian’s luck will run out… But no matter how hard I tried, the stuffing kept falling out. It was hopeless. I hugged the ruined bear to my chest, my tears falling faster. I didn’t understand. One minute, Maya was promising to take care of me; the next, she was a monster. And I didn’t understand how my brother could have forgotten something so important. I don’t know how long I lay there. Maya, satisfied with her haul of jewels, was watching TV. Mrs. Gable came in and swept up the scattered cotton, her voice a low warning. “Not a word of this to your brother.” I was already terrified of her. I shrank back, climbed onto my bed, and hid the bear under my pillow. I was tossing and turning, unable to sleep, when I heard Julian’s tired voice from downstairs. “Monica said Maya was bullying her. Mrs. Gable, what’s going on?” He was home! I shot upright in bed. I couldn’t hear what Mrs. Gable said, but a moment later, my bedroom door opened, and Julian walked in. He had come to see me. His eyes were heavy with fatigue and frustration, but beneath it, I could see the familiar ache of concern. He sat on the edge of my bed and stroked my hair. “Monica,” he said softly, “Mrs. Gable said you were lying. That you were just lonely and missed me.” “I’m home now. Are you happy?” I grabbed his hand, biting my lip. I had to tell him about the bear. “I wasn’t lying. Maya… she took the bear and…” “Enough!” His voice was a whip crack. He yanked his hand away, his face darkening. “The bear, the bear! Who would be so childish as to cut up a stupid toy?” “Monica, are you trying to remind me that everything I have is because of you?” “I haven’t forgotten! Not for a single second! Do you have any idea how exhausting it is running this company? Have you ever heard me complain?” “I’ve already decided to hand the company over to you one day! And I’m going to find a way to fix you! You don’t need to keep reminding me!” I stared at him, my mouth agape. “That’s not what I meant, Julian…” “Do you think I wanted to trade with you? If the company hadn’t been on the verge of collapse, I never would have done it!” “If I had known it would be this exhausting, this relentless, I would have never agreed to it! I would rather have been the one to become an idiot!” His voice was shaking, his eyes red-rimmed with emotion. But I only heard one thing. Julian hadn’t forgotten. He just thought being the idiot was the better deal. He regretted it. He didn’t want to be CEO anymore. … My mind may be that of a seven-year-old, but I still remembered one very important thing. Years ago, our parents died in a car crash, leaving Julian and me alone. The company was in its infancy, and no matter how hard Julian worked, he couldn’t stop the bleeding. We were losing money, fast. One New Year’s, he took me to a temple on a mountain to pray. There, we met a strange old mystic. He told us that the Aston family’s luck was concentrated entirely in me, but I was too young to handle such a burden. He offered to perform a ritual to swap our fates. The price would be my intellect; I would slowly regress, becoming a child again. Julian, of course, refused. He yelled at the old man, grabbed my hand, and took me home. But the company continued to fail. One night, he held me and cried. “Monica, I dreamed of Dad. He called me a failure.” “What do I do? What am I supposed to do? I’m too stupid, I’m not good enough…” His last words to me that night were, “I’m sorry.” After that, the teddy bear appeared in my hands. And Julian, miraculously, turned the company around. He became a titan in the business world, a force to be reckoned with. He had warned me then, “You can lose anything, Monica, but not that bear. If anything happens to it, our family is finished.” From that day on, I never let it out of my sight. But now, he didn’t seem to care anymore. He regretted his choice. If the bear was broken… wouldn’t that be a good thing? If he wanted his old life back… then maybe I shouldn’t say anything about the bear at all. I quietly pulled my hand out from under the pillow. “Monica, you’re a child. You don’t have to worry about anything,” Julian’s voice cut through my thoughts. “But do you have any idea how tired I am? How much pressure I’m under every single day?” He was struggling to keep his emotions in check. His voice was almost a plea. “I’m only twenty-five. I can’t do everything. Please, can you just not cause any more trouble for me?” Looking at the exhaustion etched on his face, my heart ached. “I’m sorry, Julian. I won’t bother you with little things anymore.” His lips tightened, and for a moment, he looked relieved. He took my hand. Then his expression changed. He pushed up my sleeve, his eyes locking onto the dark bruises on my arm. “What is this? Who did this to you?” Before I could answer, Maya burst into the room. She snatched my hand, holding up a first-aid kit with a look of theatrical concern. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Aston. I wasn’t watching Monica closely enough today. She insisted on playing outside and took a tumble. I was just about to put some ointment on her bruises.” Julian frowned, his gaze shifting to me. “Is that true?” I sighed internally. In the past, when Mrs. Gable had hit me, I had told Julian many times. He never believed me. He always said she had been with our family for over a decade and would never do such a thing. Eventually, I just stopped trying. Besides, I really didn’t want to add to his burdens. So I nodded. “Yes. I fell.” Maya let out a sigh of relief. “Let me put some medicine on that for you, Monica.” Julian stared at her, his expression unreadable. “Take care of Monica,” he said, his voice low and heavy. “The study abroad program I promised you depends on it.” “And I have security cameras installed in the house. I check them regularly.” He was lying. I knew he never checked the cameras. If he had, he would have known long ago that Mrs. Gable was abusing me. But I didn’t call him out on it. He was so busy; it was normal for him to overlook things. But his words terrified Maya. The next morning, after Julian left for work, she and her mother tore the house apart, desperate to find the cameras. My clothes were thrown on the floor and trampled. Julian’s priceless antique vase was shattered. I huddled in a corner, my heart pounding. “Do you know where they are?” Maya snarled, glaring at me. I shook my head frantically. “No!” She didn’t believe me. She slapped me across the face. “You little bitch. You know, don’t you? You’re just waiting to tattle to Mr. Aston.” “Tell me where they are, damn it!” I fell, and the ruined bear tumbled out from where I’d hidden it in my shirt. Its two black eyes stared up at me. I reached for it, but Mrs. Gable grabbed my arm. Her smile was chilling. “Miss Monica, just tell me where the cameras are. I promise I’ll never hit you again.” She’d made that promise a hundred times before. I didn’t believe her for a second. I struggled. “I don’t know! Ask Julian!” CRACK! Another slap, so hard my head spun. Mrs. Gable’s hands were large and strong. The blow left a red mark on my neck, and my cheek began to swell. A flash of regret crossed her face—she’d hit me too hard. Julian would notice. She vented her frustration by kicking me hard in the stomach. “If Mr. Aston finds out, Maya and I are done for! And you won’t have it easy either!” She kicked me again and again, until the world went black. When I woke up, the house was spotless. I instinctively looked at my hand. The bear was still clutched in my fist. I hadn’t lost it. But looking at the tattered rag and two black buttons that used to be my round, plump teddy bear, the relief I felt was quickly swamped by a wave of despair. What was the point? The bear was already broken. Even if I protected it, it was too late. My lip trembled. I tossed the bear aside, not caring where it landed. I ran upstairs, a sharp pain in my chest, the taste of iron in my mouth. This time, Mrs. Gable had been especially vicious. In my room, I automatically reached for my phone to call Julian. But I stopped. I had promised him I wouldn’t bother him with little things anymore. He was so tired. The company was about to go public; he hadn’t been home for dinner in weeks. Perhaps it was a psychic connection. Just as I was thinking of him, he came home early. He was beaming, carrying a cake. The company had successfully gone public. “Monica, it’s all because of you,” he said, his eyes shining. “I never could have done this without you. I didn’t let Mom and Dad down. I finally made them proud.” I had never seen him so happy, not since our parents died. He cut the cake himself and gave me the piece with the biggest strawberry. “Monica, I’ll be able to spend more time with you now. Are you happy?” My eyes lit up. I took a big bite of cake. “Happy!” My enthusiasm made him smile even wider. He ruffled my hair affectionately. Across the room, Maya was clenching her fists, her jaw tight. She still hadn’t found the cameras, and it was eating away at her. But she told herself that if Julian had seen anything, he would have exploded by now. She forced a smile. “Congratulations, Mr. Aston. I guess you won’t be needing me anymore, now that you can be with Monica.” Julian cut her a slice of cake, his smile generous. “Of course we’ll still need you. You’re Mrs. Gable’s daughter. I hope you and Monica can become good friends.” In his joy, he missed the flash of mockery in her eyes. How could two people from such different worlds ever be friends? After the cake, Julian handed me a beautifully wrapped box. Inside was a stunning pearl necklace. “There’s a celebration gala tomorrow,” he said softly. “Everyone who’s anyone in this city will be there. I want you to come with me, Monica. None of this would have happened without you.” “Go pick out a new dress. Tomorrow, I’m going to introduce you to everyone.” I wrung my hands. All my new clothes had been taken by Mrs. Gable for Maya. The old ones had been cut up and thrown away. “Julian, you should go by yourself,” I said meekly. “I don’t know how to talk to people. They’ll laugh at me.” He smiled. “Who would dare laugh at you? You’re my sister.” I could feel it—Julian’s status had risen to a whole new level. Thinking of my own diminished state, a strange new emotion welled up inside me. “I don’t have any clothes! I’m not going!” I turned and ran upstairs, locking myself in my room. Downstairs, I could hear Julian’s voice drift up through the door. “What’s wrong with Monica? Where are all her clothes?” Maya’s voice was laced with false innocence. “She… she got them all dirty playing in the mud. My mom sent them to be cleaned.” Julian sighed. “I guess we’ll have to get her treatment started as soon as possible after tomorrow. She can’t go on like this.” I clamped my hands over my ears, not wanting to hear any more. The next day, Julian went to the gala by himself. Before he left, he turned on the TV to the local news channel. “Monica, I’m going to be on TV today. Since you don’t want to come, you can watch from home.” On a whim, I asked, “Julian, did you really install cameras in the house?” He glanced around, then lowered his voice. “Yes. They’re in your teddy bear’s eyes. Don’t tell anyone.” “I’ve been too busy to check them, but I will when I have time.” His assistant was calling him. He hurried out the door. After he left, I tore the house apart, but I couldn’t find the bear anywhere. I was starting to panic when Maya shoved me. “You little idiot, what are you doing? Now my mom has to clean up your mess!” I stumbled and hit the TV stand. My eyes met the two black, shiny eyes of the teddy bear, which was perched on top of the TV. I gasped with relief. I was about to grab it when Maya kicked me to the floor. Just then, Julian’s voice came from the TV. “My success today is all thanks to my sister. Even though she couldn’t be here, I’d like to dedicate this first toast to her.” I looked at the screen. Julian was raising his glass, a wide smile on his face. In front of him were countless reporters and business leaders, all fawning over him. “Mr. Aston, why isn’t your sister here today? We’d love to meet her!” someone called out. Julian’s smile faltered slightly. “She… she was injured saving my life when we were children. It affected her mind. She has the intellect of a seven-year-old and can’t handle large crowds.” “To thank her, I’ve purchased two estates in her name. I plan to live there with her and take care of her for the rest of her life.” At his words, Maya’s eyes turned red with envy. She threw herself on top of me and started slapping me, again and again. “You bitch! Why do you get to have such a good life? Why don’t I have a brother like that?” As her slaps rained down on me, someone on the TV shouted, “Mr. Aston, do you have a photo of your sister? Can you show us?” Julian’s good mood returned. He smiled. “Even better. Why don’t I turn on the security camera at home and let her say hello?” He pulled out his phone and tapped the screen. The teddy bear’s eyes on top of the TV suddenly swiveled, focusing directly on me, and on Maya, who was still on top of me, slapping my face.

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My foreign language skills are a joke, so it’s ironic I’m dating Adrian, a diplomat fluent in eight. On my birthday, I waited excitedly at the upscale French restaurant he’d booked. The waiter had already approached me patiently seven times when Adrian finally texted: [Work came up. I ordered for you—please eat without me.] Soon after, I saw a post from Vivienne, his unforgettable ex: a photo of Adrian handing her a disposable bib while pausing his order. The caption: [He treated me, worried I’d starve because I forgot English~] Suddenly, the night felt meaningless. I handed the French menu—which I couldn’t read—back to the waiter. “One of everything, please.” After eating my fill and packing the rest, I saw dozens of missed calls. Adrian’s last message said: “Don’t overthink it. Vivienne’s new here—I was just helping. Next time, I’ll make it up to you.” I didn’t reply. If a relationship always needs a “next time,” is it really worth having? 1 I never expected to run into Adrian at a bar. I’d just settled into a booth with my best friend when a firm hand clamped down on my arm. Adrian’s eyes widened in disbelief when he saw it was me. “Amanda? You’re ignoring my texts to come out drinking this late?” Before I could say a word, my friend yanked my arm free and shot a look at the woman standing behind Adrian. “What’s the problem? It’s fine for you to be here alone with another woman, but she can’t be here with her best friend?” Adrian pinched the bridge of his nose. “Don’t jump to conclusions. Vivienne brought a client here to unwind. I was just worried they’d run into trouble if they drank too much, so I tagged along.” “Besides, I told Amanda where I was going. She just never replied…” He trailed off, a hint of frustration in his voice. I checked my phone. He was right; there were a few more messages from him, trying to soothe me and explaining where he was. I was genuinely surprised. Adrian, proactively telling me his whereabouts? In the past, if I even asked how long his business trips were, he’d shut me down. “Amanda, everyone needs their own space. Can you stop trying to keep tabs on me all the time?” It took a mountain of apologies and a solemn promise to never ask about his schedule again before he’d finally forgiven me. I pocketed my phone, my voice flat. “Sorry, I didn’t see them.” Adrian was speechless. Just then, Vivienne drifted over. “Adrian? If Amanda minds, you should just take her home. I’ll be fine getting a cab on my own.” I clinked glasses with my friend without looking up. “I don’t mind. You two do whatever you want.” Adrian’s brow furrowed as he gave me a once-over. “Amanda!” “Be good and go home first. If you want to drink, I’ll pick up a few pounds of your favorite crawfish after I drop Vivienne off, and we can drink all you want. How does that sound?” Adrian is a neat freak; he can’t stand strong smells in the house. After we got together, I gave up all my favorites: smoky barbecue, spicy curries, and messy crawfish boils. Assuming he was just desperate to get Vivienne back to her hotel, I nodded vaguely. “Fine. You should get going.” He seemed surprised by how easily I agreed and ruffled my hair as a reward. “Good girl. Wait for me at home. I’ve already called you a car.” He left in such a hurry he didn’t even notice me flinch away from his touch. It was three in the morning when I finally got home. The moment I pushed the door open, I nearly collided with Adrian, who was clearly on his way out to look for me. He saw me and his voice was cold. “Amanda, do you have any idea what time it is? How old are you? You can’t just run off and come home this late like a teenager every time you’re upset.” I was so exhausted I could have passed out standing up. I didn’t have the energy to argue, so I tried to sidestep him and head to the bedroom. He blocked my path. “Stop being so jealous. If anything was going to happen between Vivienne and me, it would have happened long before you came along.” He pulled a small jewelry box from his pocket. “Here. Your birthday present. You’re another year older now, so you can’t keep acting as petty and childish as you did tonight.” I was too tired to even speak. I took the box without a glance and walked toward the bedroom. “Right. Thanks for the gift.” I tossed it onto the nightstand. Whatever. I crawled into bed and shut my eyes. I was dead to the world before I could even register the sound of the front door slamming shut. 2 The next morning, I woke up and scrolled through my phone to clear my head. That’s when I realized Adrian had stormed out last night. Vivienne had a new post up. [Wish time could just stand still right here.] The picture was of her and Adrian, their backs to the camera, watching the sunrise from a mountaintop. I gave it a like and sighed. Well, good for you two. A shame my front door had to suffer for it. After a quick breakfast, I took a cab to the office. My manager was thrilled and relieved when I told her I would accept the overseas assignment. She’d been so disappointed when I’d turned it down before, not wanting a long-distance relationship with Adrian. “You’ve finally come to your senses! Transportation is so convenient these days, a two-hour train ride is all it takes to see each other. You know what they say, ‘Absence makes the heart grow fonder.’” I smiled at her teasing before finally telling her the truth. “I’m planning on breaking up with him.” I finished the transfer paperwork right as the lunch bell rang. My work friends insisted on taking me out for a farewell meal. Laughing, we all piled into the elevator. But as soon as we stepped out of the building, Adrian materialized out of nowhere, shoving a bouquet of flowers into my arms. “A peace offering.” My colleagues erupted in good-natured laughter. “Whoa! What did you do to get on our sweet Amanda’s bad side, Adrian? You’re even waiting with flowers!” “Haha, you’re too late, Adrian! We’ve already booked Amanda for lunch.” Adrian took my hand, steering me toward his car while offering apologies over his shoulder. “So sorry, everyone. Amanda and I have an emergency. I’ll treat you all next week to make up for it!” Thinking something serious had happened at home, I said my goodbyes and let him guide me into the passenger seat. The first thing I did was toss the bouquet into the back before buckling my seatbelt. Adrian got in just in time to see it. His lips thinned. At the next red light, he couldn’t hold it in any longer. “You don’t like them?” I was busy handing off work tasks on my phone and it took me a moment to look up. “What?” His words finally registered. “Oh, the flowers,” I realized. “I’m allergic to pollen. Did you forget again?” Adrian froze, a look of deep regret on his face. “I’m sorry. I’ll remember this time. I promise.” My eyes were already back on my phone. “It’s fine.” It wasn’t the first time. How could a diplomatic genius who could converse fluently in obscure languages fail to remember something so simple? He just didn’t care enough. But it didn’t matter anymore. I didn’t need him to. “We’re here.” Just as Adrian announced our arrival, I finalized my start date with the branch office. I glanced out the window and saw we weren’t at our apartment complex, but in an airport parking garage. I was confused. Before I could ask, Adrian was already opening my door, pulling me by the hand. He was pulling me in a mad dash through the terminal. I was a little stunned. In my mind, Adrian had always been the epitome of calm and collected maturity. This boyish, energetic side of him was something I’d only ever seen in Vivienne’s Instagram posts. “Come on, Amanda, hurry! Our flight is already boarding.” It was only after I was breathless in my seat that I had a chance to ask him what was going on. “What’s wrong? Did something happen to your family?” His family lived abroad, so that was my first assumption. Adrian was still catching his breath. He tucked our passports and IDs safely away. “I know you haven’t used your vacation days this year.” “You’ve always wanted to see the Eiffel Tower in Paris, right? I’m on leave, so I thought I’d take you. Please, don’t be mad at me anymore, okay?” It hit me then. In three years together, this was our first trip. Because every single one of his previous vacations had been claimed by Vivienne. Or rather, Adrian’s vacations were for Vivienne. He would go with her on a safari in Africa, chase the Northern Lights in Iceland, or see kangaroos in Australia. But when I asked him to just explore a few local coffee shops with me, he was always too busy with work. Whatever. I’ll just think of it as a breakup trip. A final, clean break. I pushed down the urge to end things right there. “Wait, if we just boarded like this, what about our luggage?” Adrian patted my head. “Don’t you worry, my little planner. I was afraid we’d miss the flight, so I had a friend who’s also heading to Paris take our bags to the hotel ahead of us.” I nodded, my mind elsewhere. Thank God I was between assignments. If I had to request time off this suddenly, I wasn’t sure my company would have approved. 3 It was late at night when the plane landed. We’d just pulled up to the hotel when Adrian’s phone shattered the quiet. He answered. “Don’t cry. Stay right where you are. I’m coming now.” He snatched the car keys back from the doorman, his face etched with anxiety. “Amanda, Vivienne followed us to Paris.” “It’s not safe here at night, I’m worried something might happen to her. You go on up to the room and get some rest. I’ll be back as soon as I pick her up.” With that, he floored the gas and sped off into the distance. He completely forgot that not only do I not speak the language, but he also had both our passports and IDs. The trip was so sudden I hadn’t had a chance to set up international roaming. Unable to contact Adrian, I tried using a translation app to communicate with the front desk, but without any identification, I ended up stuck in the lobby, waiting. The long flight and the late hour were catching up to me. I was dozing off on a plush sofa in the lobby. The airport was only a half-hour drive from the hotel. But the clock hands made two full rotations, and there was still no sign of Adrian. I couldn’t be bothered to imagine what he and Vivienne were doing. I closed my eyes, ready to drift off again, when a deep voice suddenly sounded right beside my ear. “Amanda?” My sleepiness vanished instantly. I whipped my head around in shock. “Leo! What are you doing here?” I jumped to my feet, overjoyed. Seeing a familiar face in a foreign country—especially your high school desk mate of three years—was an incredible relief. Leo walked over, a warm smile on his face. “Here on business. Managed to close the deal a few days early.” His eyes scanned the lobby before narrowing slightly. “Did Adrian bring you? Where is he?” He’d immediately ruled out the possibility of me traveling alone. Anyone who knew me knew my talent for foreign languages was zero. I grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the front desk, waving a dismissive hand. “He went to pick up a friend.” “Just get me a room, quick. I’m about to pass out.” Before we parted ways, Leo made sure to add, “They couldn’t give us adjacent rooms on such short notice. I’m just upstairs in 1312. Come find me if you need anything.” I nodded. “Got it, got it. You’re still such a nag, just like in high school.” “Go get some sleep. Good morning.” 4 I hadn’t been asleep for long when a series of loud bangs on the door woke me. Thinking it was Leo, I stumbled to the door, eyes still closed, and opened it. The person on the other side immediately pulled me into a tight hug. “Amanda, are you out of your mind? You’d actually sleep in a room some strange man got for you? Do you have any idea how long I’ve been looking for you?” The fog of sleep finally cleared. I pushed Adrian away. “And what was I supposed to do? Sit in the lobby like an idiot and wait for you all night?” Adrian’s anger deflated. He was so taken aback by me pushing him away that he forgot to be shocked. He opened his mouth, then closed it. “I’m sorry, it’s my fault. Vivienne lost her passport, and I was helping her look for it at the airport.” He reached for my hand. “Amanda, come back to our room with me. This one will be perfect for Vivienne.” I sidestepped his touch, my voice flat. “No need. I trust you two. After all, if anything was going to happen between you, it would have happened long before I came along.” Adrian froze. Those were his own words, the ones he always used to brush me off. Like the time two years ago when Vivienne came back for a visit, forgot her pajamas, and wore his t-shirt to bed. Or last year, when she got a single mosquito bite and insisted on being cradled in his arms like a princess. And just this year, when she borrowed his electric razor to shave her legs. Every time I felt their interactions crossed a line and asked for some distance, he would placate me with that exact phrase. I yawned, too tired to deal with him anymore, and slammed the door in his face. I fell back onto the bed, eager to get back to sleep. 5 In my dreams, I vaguely remember hearing more banging on the door. It wasn’t until I woke up and saw a note, some cash, and my passport slipped under the door that I realized it hadn’t been a dream at all. [Amanda, I’m taking Vivienne to get a replacement passport. I’ll be back as soon as we’re done. Don’t be afraid to spend the money. I’ll take you for a boat ride on the Seine tomorrow.] I pocketed the cash and my passport, tossing the note into the trash on my way out. After getting ready, I stepped out of my room and ran right into Leo, who was just about to knock. I beamed. “Leo, what a coincidence!” Leo smiled back. “It is.” “Is Adrian here? I think I saw him leaving with someone when I went down for breakfast this morning.” “He’s probably not back yet,” I answered simply, not wanting to let irrelevant people ruin a perfectly good vacation. Leo took my bag from my shoulder. “Well, in that case, want to go see the Eiffel Tower this afternoon? I’ve chartered a boat.” “Really?” I couldn’t hide my excitement. “Let’s go! I’ve been dying to find out if the coffee by the Seine is as good as they say!” The Parisian sun was especially bright that day. Leo and I walked through the Arc de Triomphe, cruised down the Seine, listened to a violinist play by the riverbank, and finally had dinner at the top of the Eiffel Tower. When we got back to the hotel, I left my door ajar since Leo was going to bring his camera down to transfer the photos to my laptop. A message from him came through: [Amanda, the hot water is out on the 13th floor. Would you mind if I used your shower?] I replied: [Sure, no problem. Bring the camera down with you.] Leo handed me the camera and disappeared into the bathroom with a change of clothes. I was completely absorbed in scrolling through the beautiful pictures. When a knock came at the door, I instinctively called out in English, “Just a second!” At that moment, Leo emerged from the bathroom and went to open the door for me. The next thing I heard was a guttural snarl: “You bastard.” I looked up just in time to see Adrian swing his fist at Leo. Adrian pointed a trembling finger at Leo, who stood there bare-chested, a single white towel wrapped around his waist. His eyes, blazing red, locked onto mine. “Who is he?”

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Five years after my brother threw me out, our paths crossed in the velvet darkness of a nightclub. He was the VIP client, dropping a fortune to celebrate his precious Stella’s birthday. I was one of the atmosphere girls, paid to pour drinks and keep the party going. We didn’t exchange a single word the entire night. Not until I’d downed two straight bottles of brandy for a five-hundred-dollar tip. As he stared at my ghost-white face, his lips thinned and his voice was a whip of ice. “You’d rather do this… degrading work than come home and apologize?” “Anna,” he snarled, “you’ve really got some fucking nerve.” I just gave him a tired, empty smile and held out my hand. “Five hundred dollars. Cash or Venmo?” Time had washed away the old grievances; I had no energy left to fight. But that five hundred dollars was exactly what I needed to pay off the final installment on my urn. … The private room fell silent. All eyes were on me, a mix of pity, curiosity, and contempt. Someone snorted with laughter. My brother Julian’s face, already dark, turned thunderous. He was humiliated. For people like them, five hundred dollars was less than the cost of breakfast. But for me, it was worth swallowing my pride and two bottles of liquor. His darling Stella, Stella Monroe, sneered at me. “Julian has been waiting for you to come home, and this is what you’re doing? Isn’t it… dirty?” I glanced at her. “There’s nothing dirty about earning an honest living. It’s not like I’m sleeping with them.” She let out a cold, dismissive laugh. “Are you that desperate for money? Fine. Drink two more, and I’ll add another five hundred.” The moment the words left her mouth, the onlookers started jeering. “Go on, drink up! If Stella’s adding five hundred, so will I!” “Count me in! I’ll throw in a grand!” Without hesitating, I reached for another bottle. Suddenly, the door swung open and the manager, hearing the commotion, scurried in, a greasy smile plastered on his face. He shoved me aside and bowed obsequiously to my brother. “Mr. Kane, did this employee do something to offend you?” “Please, don’t be angry. She doesn’t know how to behave. If—” “Are you going to drink it for her?” Julian cut him off, his eyes narrowing to dangerous slits. Sweat beaded on the manager’s forehead. He didn’t want to stand up for me, but he was terrified I’d drink myself to death on his watch. He chuckled nervously. “That’s a lot of alcohol, sir. Even a grown man couldn’t handle that, let alone a young woman like her.” “Then get the hell out!” Julian’s brow furrowed with impatience. He pulled a thick stack of cash from his wallet—ten grand—and threw it at the manager. “Anna isn’t leaving tonight. If you get in my way again, you can forget about keeping this club open.” The manager scrambled to scoop up the money, his face splitting into a delighted grin. He couldn’t care less about me now. With a quick “thank you,” he vanished. Every eye in the room was on me again. Julian’s lip curled. “What? You don’t want the money anymore?” My face was a blank mask as I walked over, grabbed a bottle, and tipped it back. After the first two, my stomach was already twisting like a knot of knives. I drank this one slowly, drawing a fresh round of mockery from the crowd. Julian’s expression grew darker with every passing second. Just as I finished the bottle and reached, swaying, for the next, his hand shot out and clamped around my wrist like a vise. “Are you trying to kill yourself, Anna?!” “I want the money.” I wrenched my hand free, grabbed the last bottle, and started pouring it down my throat. I had a plan. The lights were dim. I’d pretend my hands were shaking and let some of it spill. No one would notice. But I’d barely taken a swallow when a hand cracked across my face. CRACK! The blow stunned me. The bottle slipped from my grasp and shattered on the floor. Julian’s voice was a furious roar, his teeth clenched. “Have you no shame? Is money all you care about?!” “Stop drinking! Even if you drink yourself to death, I won’t give you a single cent!” The alcohol hit me like a tidal wave. The room swam, colors bleeding into one another. And a voice, a voice I had buried deep in my heart for five years, exploded in my memory: “You sold Mom’s heirloom for money? Did I starve you? Did I leave you without clothes? Why didn’t you just sell yourself?!” “Get out! From now on, I don’t have a sister!” Five years ago, Stella set a perfect trap for me. She stole our mother’s heirloom bracelet from Julian’s study, sold it, and blamed me. Julian was incandescent with rage. He made me kneel in the snow for three days and three nights, demanding to know where I’d sold it. But how could I know? I told him it was Stella’s scheme, that she couldn’t stand seeing him be kind to me. He refused to believe me. Theft. Disrespect for our mother. Stubborn defiance. I had hit all three of his triggers. Fueled by Stella’s lies, he confiscated all my money and threw me out of the house. For the first six months, I managed. I found a job in sales and could support myself with a little left over. But then everything changed. Julian made the one and only phone call to me in five years. His first words were: “Are you ready to come back and admit you were wrong? Just tell me where you sold it, and I’ll forgive you.” I was still running on pride and fury. “I told you it wasn’t me, don’t you understand? Go ask your precious Stella! She’s the one who sold it!” He hung up. The very next day, I was fired. He put the word out all over Bay City: anyone who helped me was his enemy. For the next four and a half years, I couldn’t find a single legitimate job. My only option was to work the nightlife circuit, being an “atmosphere girl.” It was like he was rubbing my nose in it. He not only publicly declared Stella the sole heir to his company, but he also paraded her around at interviews, galas, and auctions. He spent money on her like it was water—millions at a time. Their faces were constantly on the financial news channels. And I watched from the shadows, drinking my way into stomach cancer just to survive. I spent years seeing doctors, draining every penny I had. I took out predatory payday loans, but it was never enough. The experimental drugs were too expensive, and chemotherapy was a pipe dream. I tried calling Julian to borrow money. I’d barely gotten a few words out before he cut me off. “Money, money, money! Is that all you ever think about?!” “Don’t ever expect a dime from me until you come back and apologize. You can just go die in a ditch for all I care!” That was the call that extinguished my last flicker of hope. I was so tired. Truly. If he wanted me to die, then fine. I would die. At least the pain would stop. A month ago, I ordered myself an urn. I scraped together what I could, but I was still five hundred dollars short on the final payment. The shop owner called almost every day to chase the debt. I thought I could finally pay it off tonight. But Julian gave the manager ten thousand dollars and wouldn’t spare five hundred for me. He and his entourage swept out of the bar. I was left in the bathroom, vomiting until the world turned black and white. Only one thought remained. Three bottles of brandy. All for nothing. The shift supervisor was smoking beside me. “What in the world did you do to piss off Mr. Kane? His face was practically green when he left. What’s the deal between you two?” Waves of agony pulsed through my stomach. My head was spinning. I could barely keep my eyes open, clinging to the toilet to keep from falling in. “I don’t know him,” I mumbled. “Enemies, I guess.” The next day, a phone call ripped me from my sleep. It was the urn seller. “Miss Kane, when are you going to pay the balance? It’s five hundred bucks. Are you really going to drag this out for a month?” “If you can’t pay in three days, I’m not holding it for you anymore! And you’re not getting your deposit back!” My voice was a raw croak. “Please, just give me a little more time. I get paid in two weeks, then—” “I can’t wait two weeks!” he snapped, his tone sharp. “I’ve never seen anyone like you, dragging your feet over buying an urn. If you don’t have the money, you shouldn’t have ordered such an expensive one in the first place!” Before I could say another word, he hung up. My head was splitting. I called my manager, hoping to get an advance on my salary. His response was even more brutal. “Just so you know, you don’t need to come in today. You’re fired.” “And you won’t be getting paid. It’s Mr. Kane’s orders. Our hands are tied.” A roaring filled my ears. My voice was a frantic squeak. “You can’t do that! That’s against labor laws! I’ll file a complaint!” The manager laughed coldly. “A complaint? Go ahead. Mr. Kane said he’ll personally handle any consequences. His legal team is the best in the country. If you want to walk into a buzzsaw, be my guest.” He hung up on me, too. A knot of despair tightened in my chest. I felt sick, my face pale, a metallic taste of rust filling my throat. Suddenly, a mouthful of blood surged up, spattering onto my sheets. I stared at the bright, shocking red, and the tears I’d been holding back finally broke free. After a long while, I mechanically cleaned up the mess and swallowed a handful of painkillers. By the time I was done, I was completely drained of strength. Leaning against my bed, I thought back on the five years since I was cast out. I realized with a horrifying clarity that every escape route, every path forward, had been deliberately cut off by my own brother. Now, I couldn’t even work in the clubs anymore. Just eating was a challenge, let alone paying for painkillers or an urn. All I wanted was a beautiful little house to rest in when I died. Was that really so wrong? I buried my face in my hands and sobbed, crying until the afternoon sun began to fade. Finally, a sliver of strength returned. Looking at my trembling hands, I made a decision. I was going home. I was going to ask Julian Kane why. Why was he doing this to me? When I arrived, Julian and Stella were eating dinner. He glanced at me, his voice flat and devoid of emotion. “So, you finally decided to come back?” “Why did you have my manager fire me?” I shot back, ignoring his question. “Five years. Haven’t you humiliated me enough?” He raised an eyebrow, completely unconcerned. “How else would you learn that home is the only place for you?” “Anna, do you have any idea what people are saying about you out there? The only reason you haven’t heard the disgusting rumors is because I’ve been suppressing them. And you’re still not grateful?” Stella set down her fork, her voice dripping with venom. “Brother, she’ll never appreciate what you do for her. Look at her. She’s clearly blaming you!” “Shut up!” I lunged at her, my hand raised to strike. But in the next second, Julian’s hand closed around my wrist. His face was a mask of cold fury. “Now you’ve learned to hit people? I see you’ll never understand what you did wrong.” “Do you want to see if I can make it so you can’t survive in this city?” My heart seized, as if squeezed by a giant, cruel hand. Can’t survive? Isn’t that what he’d been doing for the past five years? Destroying my jobs, crushing my hopes, one by one. Leaving me worse off than a sewer rat, broken and bleeding, unable to even afford a final resting place. I was done. I was so done with his threats. The dam inside me broke. “I DID NOTHING WRONG!” I screamed, a raw, ragged sound. “Julian, if you won’t let me live in peace, then maybe I should just die! Would that satisfy you?!” “I’ll go to hell! You can’t control me there, can you?!” My words seemed to ignite his rage. A vein throbbed at his temple. “Even in death, you will forever be in my debt!” He shoved me. It wasn’t a hard push, but I was weak. I stumbled backward, my lower back slamming into the corner of the dining table. Pain exploded through me, and a cold sweat broke out all over my body. My face went white. A flicker of regret crossed Julian’s eyes. He turned his back on me. “Until you get Mom’s heirloom back, you don’t even have the right to die!” With that, he strode out of the room. I was in too much pain to get up. Stella stood over me, arms crossed, a triumphant smirk on her face. “Look at you, sister. So pathetic.” “How about this? You get on your knees and beg me, and maybe I’ll tell you who I sold that little trinket to. How about it?” I stared at her, my eyes burning with a hatred so intense I wanted to tear her apart. But I knew I didn’t even have the strength to slap her. I had lived in humiliation for five years. I couldn’t even have a shred of dignity before I died. Julian’s words echoed in my ears: “Even in death, you will forever be in my debt!” Fine. If I get the heirloom back, then I can die in peace, right? I desperately scraped the tears from my face and knelt at Stella’s feet. I bowed my head to the floor three times. “Please,” I begged, my voice cracking. “Tell me where Mom’s heirloom is.” In the past, every time she schemed against me, I would fight back with everything I had. But this time, I had no fight left in me. Stella seemed to lose interest. The game wasn’t fun anymore. She tossed a slip of paper at me. “There’s the address. But sister, you still have to be able to get it back.” Numbly, I picked up the paper, found a shared bike, and headed to the address. It was a pawn shop in a remote suburb. When I explained why I was there, the owner said nothing and simply produced the bracelet. Clearly, Stella had already briefed him. I felt nothing. I just wanted to get the bracelet back to Julian so our debts would be settled. But as I reached for it, the owner’s fingers suddenly went slack. CRACK! The jade bracelet hit the floor and shattered into a dozen pieces. I froze, the blood draining from my face. The owner cried out, “Young lady, why weren’t you more careful? This has nothing to do with me!” “Anna!” Julian’s furious voice came from behind me. I whipped around and met Stella’s triumphant gaze. She was clinging to Julian’s arm. “See, brother? I told you! Anna did it on purpose!” “She’d rather smash Mom’s bracelet to pieces than admit she was wrong. And to think you were still willing to forgive her!” Julian didn’t seem to hear her. His eyes were glued to the pile of shattered jade on the floor. He walked forward, his steps heavy. He knelt down stiffly, and for a long moment, he just stared. Then, piece by piece, he began to gather the fragments, clutching them in his palm. “It wasn’t me,” I whispered, a frantic panic rising in my chest as I watched his desolate figure. “He dropped it. And I wasn’t the one who sold it back then…” But at the sound of my voice, Julian shot to his feet and slapped me with all his might. The force of it sent me sprawling to the ground. My stomach churned, my cheek was on fire, and involuntary tears streamed down my face. His chest heaved, his face a terrifying mask of rage. “You still have the nerve to talk? For five years, I gave you chance after chance! I told myself, if you just came home and told me where it was, I would forgive you!” “But what did you do?!” “Anna, you don’t deserve to be a Kane, and you certainly don’t deserve to be my sister!” The utter disappointment in his voice was a physical blow. He had lost control, his eyes red as he roared at me. My heart plummeted into a black abyss. I felt a familiar metallic tang at the back of my throat and swallowed hard against the rising blood. My voice was a choked sob. “What if… what if I was really dying?” “Stop playing the victim!” Julian spat, his eyes filled with disgust. He was squeezing the jade shards so tightly that blood began to drip from his palm. “Even if you died, I wouldn’t feel a thing!” “Fine.” I clenched my fists and shakily pulled myself to my feet. In that moment, something inside me clicked into place. I was going to die. All the debts and resentments… they didn’t matter anymore. If he wanted to believe I did it all, then fine. I did it. After I was gone, I’d be nothing but a handful of dust. None of it would mean anything. I gave a bitter laugh and turned, walking out of the shop. Julian yelled after me, “Where do you think you’re going?! Won’t you be happy until you’ve driven me to my grave?!” I didn’t look back. My voice floated back to him. “You don’t have to die. I will.” For the next two days, Julian didn’t contact me. He took the bracelet to be repaired, only to be told that no matter what they did, it would never be the same. The sight of the poorly mended jade sent him into a silent fury. On the first day, he made a public announcement, officially severing all ties with me. Facing the media, his face was stone. “From this day forward, I will no longer be involved in Anna Kane’s affairs. Whatever job she finds, even if she sells her body, I will not interfere.” “I only ask that no one ever mention her name to me again. The sound of it makes me sick.” The media was in an uproar. He was swift and ruthless, having my name officially removed from the family registry. On the second day, he took Stella to the ancestral hall. He legally changed her surname to Kane and formally acknowledged her as the young mistress of the family. A relative asked him, puzzled, “Is all this really necessary? Anna is your biological sister. What if something happens to her, and you’ve abandoned her like this?” Julian’s lips tightened into a thin line. His tone was mocking. “What could happen? I’ve spent the last five years crushing her, and she’s still alive and kicking, isn’t she?” “She won’t die. She doesn’t have the guts. And she wouldn’t have the face to see our mother in the afterlife.” Unfortunately for him, he was wrong again. Because I was right there beside him, in spirit form. I had been dead for two days, my body floating in the river near our old home. The pain had become too much. The sorrow was unbearable. Death, for me, was a release. What I didn’t expect was that on the third day, Julian received a call from the urn seller.

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Through the rearview mirror, I watched as the boy I grew up with was dragged by the car for over two hundred meters. His body was a canvas of scrapes and bruises, but his hand was clamped around the door handle, refusing to let go. With a sigh of resignation, I lowered the window, giving him a chance to speak. “That video… I saw it.” “I’m sorry, Echo. I… I honestly didn’t know that was the truth…” “So, now you know,” I cut him off, my voice cold. “I’m an asshole! I shouldn’t have doubted you. I never should have said those horrible things to you…” He took a desperate step forward, fat tears rolling down his cheeks. “Echo, please, yell at me, hit me, I don’t care. Just… don’t shut me out. Don’t leave me.” “I really know I was wrong.” Watching him sob, my heart remained a placid lake, without a single ripple of emotion. I slowly lifted my head and asked him one last question. “David, do you remember that priority seat?” 1 I’ve had a severe heart condition since I was a child, which means weekly trips to the hospital for check-ups. One day, on the subway ride back with David, my childhood best friend, we ran into the new transfer student. There was only one empty seat left, right next to him. Just as I was about to sit, the new girl timidly grabbed my arm. “Excuse me,” she said, her voice small. “I’m a little anemic.” “That priority seat… could I possibly have it?” I almost laughed. The damsel-in-distress act was a little too obvious. I prepared a simple, direct refusal. “Sorry, but I can’t…” Before I could finish, David interrupted. “Echo, just let her have it.” “I know your heart condition means you can’t stand for long, but I’ve gotten you a seat so many times. What’s one more time?” I froze. Obediently, I gave up the seat. It wasn’t until the third time he came to walk me to school, only to find I’d already left, that he finally seemed to get it. “It was just a seat. Is it really worth being like this over?” I bit my lip. “You’re right. It was just one seat. So why couldn’t you have given it to me?” My question left him stunned. David never expected me, the girl who was always so easygoing around him, to push back like that. It took him a moment to find his voice, a new edge of annoyance in it. “What kind of attitude is that? Lily wasn’t feeling well. You knew that.” I was done arguing. I turned and headed upstairs to my apartment. His voice rose behind me. “Echo Shen! Are you really going to drag this out over something so small?” I didn’t look back. After that, a cold war began between us. I started deliberately avoiding him at school, walking to and from class alone. He never made an effort to approach me either. The thread that had tied us together since we were kids seemed to have suddenly gone slack. During Monday’s literature class, the teacher announced a group project. The second she finished speaking, two of David’s best friends swarmed his desk. Normally, I would have been the fourth member. I was gathering my books, waiting for them to call me over. But when I looked up, I saw Lily standing hesitantly by David’s desk, nervously twisting the hem of her shirt. She summoned her courage and whispered, “David… I just transferred, so I don’t know many people… Is your group full?” His friends immediately started teasing him. “Whoa, look at you, man. A pretty girl is asking to join.” David was clearly flattered. Without even a glance in my direction, he answered in a voice dripping with gentleness, “Of course. Welcome to the group.” I was frozen in place, the textbook in my hand hovering over my backpack. Throughout the entire exchange, David never once looked at me, as if I didn’t exist. His friends seemed to have forgotten that their tight-knit little group was supposed to include me. After Lily sat down, she acted as if she had just noticed I was there. She covered her mouth with her hand, her face a mask of innocence. “Oh no… did I take Echo’s spot? I’m so, so sorry, I didn’t know…” “Maybe Echo should join instead. I can work by myself. My grades aren’t very good, I don’t want to drag you all down…” Before I could respond, David frowned in my direction, his tone impatient. “Echo, your grades are good enough to do this project on your own. Lily just got here. She needs help.” Suddenly, the whole thing felt pointless. I stuffed my textbook into my bag, stood up, and silently walked to the other side of the classroom. The rest of the students had already formed their groups. Only a few of the academically struggling kids, the ones nobody wanted to team up with, were left scattered around. I calmly took an empty seat among them. “Let’s be a group,” I said. 2 After that day, my situation in class became a bit awkward. My new groupmates were a motley crew. One slept through every class, another was lost in fantasy novels, and the third, bless his heart, actually wanted to learn but would just stare at a problem for half an hour without writing a single word. I broke down the project into tiny, manageable tasks, assigning each of them specific research to do and showing them how to organize it. It was the only way to make any progress. The process was exhausting—far more work than if I’d just done it myself. I had to constantly monitor my heart rate, reminding myself not to get anxious, not to get angry. The doctor said emotional spikes were bad for me. Meanwhile, David’s group was the life of the party. Lily might not have known anything, but she knew how to ask for help. During every break, you could see her leaning over David’s desk, her textbook open, pointing at a page and asking questions in a soft, sweet voice. David was incredibly patient, breaking down a single problem for her multiple times. His two friends would stand by, cheering them on. I ignored their noise, focusing on re-organizing the messy, error-filled notes my own group had submitted. This strange new dynamic peaked during gym class. Because of my heart, I couldn’t do anything strenuous, so I usually just rested on the sidelines. Coincidentally, Lily had also excused herself that week, once again citing anemia. So there we were, the two of us, sitting alone on the bleachers overlooking the sprawling field. She scooted closer, settling next to me. “Echo,” she began, hugging her knees and looking at me from the side. “Are you still mad at me?” I didn’t say anything. She continued as if I had. “I know David is really good to you. You two grew up together… I guess I’m just… really envious. I’m new here, I don’t have any friends. When he was nice to me, I couldn’t help but want to get closer.” As she spoke, her eyes started to well up. “Have I caused you a lot of trouble?” Before I could figure out how to respond, the halftime whistle blew for the basketball game. David pulled the hem of his jersey up to wipe the sweat from his face and jogged over to us, carrying two bottles of water. The sunlight cast a golden halo around him, making him seem impossibly bright. He stopped in front of us, naturally twisted the cap off one bottle, and handed it to Lily. “Here, drink this.” Then, he placed the other, unopened bottle on the bleacher next to me. “You okay?” he asked casually. “Your face is pale.” Lily took small sips, her eyes sparkling as she looked up at him. “David, that three-pointer you made was amazing!” David grinned, about to reply, when Lily suddenly swayed. The water bottle slipped from her hand, tipping directly onto me. Ice-cold water soaked half of my pants. “Oh! I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry, Echo!” Lily yelped, jumping up and fumbling to wipe the water off me. But then her own ankle seemed to twist, and she stumbled backward. Instinctively, David caught her, pulling her into his arms. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” His voice was laced with an urgency I’d never heard from him. “I… I’m fine,” Lily whispered, leaning against his chest, her face even paler than mine. “Just a little dizzy… my vision’s going dark…” Without another word, David swept her up into his arms, his brow deeply furrowed. As he walked past me, he seemed to remember I was there and paused, looking back. I sat on the cold bleacher, my pants dripping, the chilling water seeping into my skin. I looked at him, expecting him to at least ask if I was alright. He didn’t. His eyes held only a heavy weight of disappointment and blame. “Echo,” he said, his voice frigid. “Lily isn’t well. Couldn’t you have at least watched out for her? I never thought you could become such a cold person.” Then, he turned and strode toward the nurse’s office without a second glance. The whispers of the other students washed over me like a tide. I sat there, motionless, feeling a familiar, tight clenching in my chest. 3 After that day, it felt like I was getting lazier. Too lazy to talk, too lazy to argue, too lazy to even look at David anymore. I walked home alone after gym class, the autumn wind creeping up my still-damp pant leg, a chill that reached deep into my heart. I didn’t text him. I didn’t wait for him. The next day at school, David did something unusual. He came over to my desk and placed a carton of warm milk on it. “Yesterday… Lily didn’t mean it. You know how she is, her health comes and goes. Don’t take it to heart.” I looked at him and suddenly felt so tired of it all. Truly, I was just done. In his eyes, I was probably the one who didn’t need looking after. Heart condition? There’s a pill for that. Misunderstood? I was good with words; I could clear things up myself. The bond we’d shared since childhood had made him take all my strength and resilience for granted. I picked up the milk, placed it back on his desk, and said softly, “Thanks, but I already had some.” Then I turned back around, opened my English textbook, and started memorizing vocabulary. David stood behind me for a moment. He probably felt like he’d lost face, because he eventually took the milk and walked away. I heard Lily’s soft voice drift over from his desk. “David, what’s wrong? Is Echo still mad?” From that day on, I completely withdrew from their world. I no longer waited for him after class. The second the final bell rang, I’d be the first one out the door with my backpack. During group discussions, I stopped offering opinions. I’d just assign the tasks, and if someone didn’t finish their part, I’d stay up late and do it myself. David finally seemed to notice something was seriously wrong. He cornered me a few times, asking if I was still mad about those “little things.” I just shook my head. “No. Exams are coming up. I need to focus on studying.” He looked at me with an expression of confusion and unfamiliarity. He was used to me chasing after him, pestering him with questions, getting worked up over the smallest things. My current calmness was unsettling for him. But I truly had no energy left to fight. My heart couldn’t take it, and neither could my pride. What finally gave me a new sense of direction was a poster on the school bulletin board. A city-wide English speech competition. The theme was “The Power of Silence.” I stood in front of that poster for a long time. The Power of Silence. Those words cut through the fog in my mind like a bolt of lightning. That’s right. Why was I trying to argue with words? Language is the most powerless tool, especially when you’re talking to someone who refuses to listen. Real power never comes from screaming or demanding. It comes from quiet action, from focused growth. I tore off a corner of the sign-up sheet, went back to my desk, and carefully filled in my name. The moment I handed it in, I felt my fickle heart finally find a steady, powerful rhythm. I poured all my energy into it. During every lunch break, I’d go up to the school rooftop and practice my pronunciation and intonation, my voice carrying over the empty field. At night, I’d lock myself in my room, researching, writing, editing, and then starting all over again. During this time, Lily’s popularity in class soared. She’d bring water to the boys after they played basketball and help the struggling girls with their homework. When she got stuck on a problem, she’d naturally turn to David for help. The two of them, heads bent together over a book, looked perfectly in sync. Once, in the hallway, I was carrying a stack of books and walked past them. Lily saw me and made a point of stopping David, her voice just loud enough for me to hear. “David, look at Echo. She’s been studying so hard lately. She barely talks to us anymore.” David’s gaze fell on me, his expression unreadable. I didn’t slow down. I didn’t look at them. I walked straight past. The night before the finals, I stayed late in the empty classroom for one last run-through. Moonlight streamed through the windows, stretching my shadow long across the floor. I faced the blackboard and recited my entire speech from memory, every pause, every gesture committed to heart. When I finished, I let out a long breath, feeling a sense of calm I hadn’t felt in a long time. I was packing my things, about to turn off the lights and leave, when the classroom door creaked open. Lily stood there, holding a steaming cup of coffee, a pure, harmless smile on her face. “Echo, still preparing so late? I brought you some coffee to help you stay awake.”

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1 Ten years ago, the Bayport Bridge collapsed. The bridge I built. The disaster claimed dozens of lives. In the aftermath, my own parents screamed “Murderer!” in my face and disowned me. The family of one victim doused me in gasoline, ready to burn us both to the ground. I spent the next decade in prison for it. When I got out, I changed my name. I found a quiet life as a barista in a small-town coffee shop, a life of peaceful anonymity. I thought, finally, it was over. Then, my ex-husband, Shawn Duffer, found me. His construction empire had gone public years ago, and he was now a titan of the industry, basking in the glow of his success. The reporters he brought with him swarmed me, their cameras flashing like a violent storm. “Ms. Collins!” one of them shouted, “Mr. Duffer has been engaged for a decade but never married. He’s been waiting for you all this time!” A bitter laugh escaped my lips. They had no idea. They didn’t know that ten years ago, it was Shawn who let his little mistress slip unqualified people onto the construction team to take kickbacks. And when the bridge crumbled, it was Shawn who let me take the fall. … Caught in the blitz of camera flashes, Shawn’s face remained a mask of cold composure. My boss, Pete, was practically vibrating with excitement. He scrambled over for an autograph, then a photo. Seeing me frozen behind the counter, he called out. “Sue! Come on, get a picture with Mr. Duffer!” he urged, his voice giddy. “This is Shawn Duffer, the youngest billionaire CEO in the country! A photo with him will drive so much traffic to our little shop. I’ll even give you a raise!” My hands, slick with soap and water as I washed a mug, clenched tight. I didn’t look up, but the pack of reporters smelled blood. They descended on me in a heartbeat. “Ms. Collins, so this is where you’ve been hiding,” one sneered, shoving a microphone in my face. “You were once a world-renowned genius of architecture. Now you’re washing cups in a cafe. Quite a fall from grace, isn’t it?” Another one pressed closer. “We hear your ex-husband has been waiting for you, postponing his wedding for ten years. What are your thoughts on that?” I ignored the microphones practically touching my skin, focusing on the simple task in my hands, but the tremble in my fingers betrayed me. I knew Shawn’s methods. I didn’t believe a word of this “undying love” narrative. My guard was up, every instinct screaming danger. The standoff hung thick in the air until Shawn stepped in front of me, shielding me from the cameras. His expression was grim. “This is a private matter between my ex-wife and me,” he announced, his voice low and commanding. “We will not be taking any questions. Please leave.” He turned to me then, his gaze deep and impossibly complex. “Alice.” He paused, the name hanging between us like a ghost. “It’s been a long time.” Hearing his voice again after all these years sent a tremor through my entire body. My hand spasmed. Crash. A coffee mug slipped from my grasp, shattering into a thousand pieces on the tiled floor. A shard of porcelain sliced across the back of my hand. Bright red blood welled up, dripping from my fingertips. Shawn lunged forward, his face tight with alarm. He gently took my hand. “How could you be so careless?” he murmured, his brow furrowed. I snatched my hand back as if burned. “Pete, I’m so sorry,” I stammered, turning to my boss. “I’ll clean this up right away. Just take the cost of the mug out of my paycheck!” Before Pete could recover from his shock, a bright, cheerful voice cut through the tension from the doorway. “Shawn, what are you doing here?” a woman called out. “You just disappeared! Your parents and I were so worried!” I looked up. A woman with a practiced, gentle smile strolled in. She walked right up to Shawn, took his hand as if it were the most natural thing in the world, and pressed a light kiss to his lips. It was Jessica Thorne. The real architect of the Bayport Bridge disaster. Shawn’s fiancée. And trailing behind her, their faces etched with disapproval, were the two people who had severed all ties with me ten years ago. My own parents. Jessica’s eyes found mine, and a smug, contemptuous smile played on her lips. “Well, if it isn’t the great architect, Alice. Long time no see.” She tightened her grip on Shawn’s arm. “Oh, by the way, your parents have adopted me now. So I suppose that makes you my big sister, doesn’t it?” My gaze shifted to the two people behind her. My mother and father. They looked so much older. Their shoulders were stooped, their hair completely white. A thousand tiny needles of pain pricked at my heart. I wondered what they would think if they knew their precious “adopted daughter” was the very person who had sent their real one to prison. My father saw me and snorted in disgust. “We only have one daughter, Jessica. I find the sight of a murderer who’d risk innocent lives for a quick buck utterly sickening.” My mother’s voice was laced with venom. “Shawn, what are you doing with this scum of the earth? It would have been better if she’d just rotted away somewhere.” Their words hung in the air, and suddenly every eye in the coffee shop, including Pete’s, was on me, filled with a strange mix of pity and revulsion. I turned away, forcing myself not to meet their gaze, a hard lump of grief lodging itself in my throat. Shawn let out a heavy sigh. “Don’t blame them, Alice. What happened back then… it hit them hard.” He pulled a gold-embossed business card from his jacket and held it out to me. “I owe you more than I can ever repay. Call me if you need anything. Anything at all.” I didn’t refuse the card. I took it with the polite, detached air I’d show any customer, then placed it casually on the counter. I refused to believe this was anything more than a chance encounter. I had no desire to ever see him again. Three days later, my phone rang. It was Pete. “Sue… I’m so, so sorry,” he said, his voice strained. “I had no idea who you were. A brilliant architect like you, working in my little shop… it’s just not right.” He rushed on. “I’m paying you for the full month. I’ll wire the money right now. You can… you can take tomorrow off. Don’t worry about coming in again.” Before I could say a word, he hung up. Confused, I tried to call back, only to find he had already blocked my number. A moment later, a text message alert chimed. A deposit of $4,500. He’d even given me an extra $1,000. The attached note read: The extra 1k is for your trouble. We’re a small business, Sue. We can’t handle this kind of drama. Please, I’m begging you, just stay away. A cold dread washed over me. This was Shawn’s doing. As if on cue, his name flashed on my screen. I answered. “Alice,” he began, his voice smooth and controlled. “I can’t undo the verdict from back then, I hope you understand that. But I will make it up to you in every other way.” He continued, not waiting for a response. “Working as a barista is beneath you. I’ve already taken care of it. And I’ve bought you a villa in Bayport. I want you to move there. Jessica… she’s young. She doesn’t have your experience with complex blueprints. I need you to help her. I’ll pay you twenty thousand a month.” My fists clenched so hard my knuckles turned white. How dare he? How dare he be the one to push me into the abyss, to make me the target of the world’s hatred, to strip me of my family, only to reappear now, playing the part of a savior, shattering the fragile peace I had built for myself? How dare he arrogantly orchestrate my life as if he had any right? “Help” Jessica? He wanted me to be her ghostwriter, the secret genius behind her name. The thought made me physically ill. I fought to keep my voice steady, my words biting. “Thank you for the generous offer, Mr. Duffer. But I have my own life now. Please, do me the courtesy of staying out of it.” There was a long silence on the other end of the line. When he finally spoke, his tone had hardened. “Don’t be stubborn, Alice. A proud, brilliant mind like yours is only truly happy when you’re creating. I’m offering you financial security and a way to use your talent again. What more could you possibly want?” His voice dropped, a velvet threat. “If you refuse to accept this out of pride, fine. I have other ways.” He hung up. A deep, unsettling feeling crept over me. That afternoon, I learned exactly what his “other ways” were. With my job at the cafe gone, I spent the day pounding the pavement, searching for work. But everywhere I went, the story was the same. No matter how desperate they were for staff, the moment they saw my application, their demeanor would shift. They would be polite, almost reverent, but the answer was always a firm no. Defeated, I headed back to my small rented apartment. My landlady was waiting for me on the doorstep. She was a kind old woman. When I first arrived with nothing to my name, she let me have the first month’s rent free so I could get on my feet. She’d often bring me a bowl of whatever delicious meal she’d cooked for herself. But today, her eyes were red-rimmed and panicked. “Alice, you’re finally back!” she cried, grabbing my hands. “Oh, honey, I am so sorry. I can’t rent this place to you anymore. Please don’t be angry with me. I have no choice.” Her voice broke. “Some powerful man came to town… He said if I keep you as a tenant, my daughter… my daughter who works in Bayport… she’ll…” She trailed off, dissolving into tears. I couldn’t let her suffer for my sake. That night, I packed my few belongings and left. So this was Shawn’s “compensation.” Destroy the life I had, then arrogantly offer me a gilded cage. How utterly pathetic. 2 The day I moved out of my apartment, Shawn appeared. He looked thinner than he had a few days ago, with dark circles under his eyes, as if he hadn’t slept at all. He brought a moving company with him, directing the workers with a casual authority, as if we were still married and he was simply bringing his wife home. When we arrived at the sprawling, sterile villa, he poured me a glass of honey water. “You always get so tense,” he said softly. “This will help you relax.” I took the glass from him in silence and took a small sip. It was sweet. So sweet it made my whole body shudder. Just like this so-called compensation of his—a gilded offering that felt more like a prison. I set the glass down. “Mr. Duffer, what’s in the past is in the past. If you truly wanted to make things right, you wouldn’t have shown up here and blown up my life.” He flinched, a flicker of something—disappointment? pain?—crossing his eyes. “Alice, don’t be difficult.” His voice was soft, patronizing. “I know you feel wronged. This is just the first step. I’ll find someone else to take the blame, and then, bit by bit, I’ll restore your reputation.” He paused, his gaze intense. “And I know you don’t like Jessica. I’ll make sure she keeps her distance. For now, just rest.” His tone was gentle, but the message was crystal clear: I was not allowed to refuse. He needed me under his control, trapped in his web. But Jessica was never going to stay away. The very same day I moved in, Shawn had barely arrived before she burst through the door, a gaggle of reporters in tow. “Shawn, darling! I heard our star architect had arrived. Why didn’t you tell me?” she chirped, her eyes gleaming with malice. She turned her performance to the cameras. “Even though Ms. Duffer made a terrible mistake all those years ago, everyone deserves a chance to live. I hope you’ve learned your lesson and will try to be a better person from now on!” The real culprit, standing there and lecturing me with a straight face. She then held out a credit card. “This is just a little something from me. You’re a senior in the field, and my fiancé’s ex-wife. Please, don’t say no. If you run into any trouble, you must let us know!” It was a masterful performance. That afternoon, the headlines exploded across Bayport: ENGINEER RESPONSIBLE FOR DOZENS OF DEATHS RETURNS, MAGNANIMOUSLY SUPPORTED BY BILLIONAIRE EX-HUSBAND! KILLER ARCHITECT WELCOMED BACK INTO LUXURY, WHILE VICTIMS’ SOULS FIND NO REST! Overnight, Shawn became the tragic, devoted hero, and Jessica the understanding, saintly fiancée. And I was once again the villain, thrown to the wolves. Whether it was intentional or not, Jessica leaked my new address to the press. From then on, my front gate became a site of pilgrimage for grieving families and angry citizens. They held signs, they screamed obscenities, they threw garbage over the walls. Three days into the siege, my parents came. It was the first time in ten years they had sought me out. For a foolish, fleeting moment, seeing the mother and father who had once doted on me standing there, my heart leaped. “Mom? Dad? You’re here! Please, come in, let me get you some water.” I moved toward the door to welcome them. But my father just glared, his voice dripping with contempt. “Hmph. We wouldn’t dare drink water from a murderer’s hand.” My mother leaned wearily against the doorframe. “Alice, we can never forgive what you did,” she said, her voice tired but firm. “But you can’t keep making mistake after mistake. We are begging you. Jessica loves Shawn so much. You’re divorced. Stop clinging to him.” Her voice, the same soft voice that once sang me lullabies, was now laced with steel. “Jessica is too kind to say this herself, so we will. You need to leave Bayport immediately. If you insist on staying, don’t blame your father and me for finding… ways… to help you leave.” Each word was a perfectly aimed dagger, twisting in my heart. 3 I stared at them, my voice trembling with disbelief. “Mom, Dad… after all this time, have you never, not for one second, believed in me?” My voice cracked. “What if I told you that everything, all of this, was a setup by Jessica Thorne?” SLAP! Before I could finish, my father’s hand cracked across my face. “You wretched girl!” he roared. “Even now, you dare to slander Jessica!” Just then, Shawn pulled up, a bag of groceries in his hand. He saw the scene unfold and froze, his face paling as he rushed toward us, stammering an explanation. But his phone rang. It was his assistant. “Mr. Duffer, it’s an emergency!” the voice on the other end was frantic. “Ms. Thorne is drunk! They’ve taken her to the hospital to get her stomach pumped!” Hearing this, the expressions on Shawn’s and my parents’ faces shifted from anger to sheer panic. Without another glance at me, the three of them scrambled into the car and sped away. I watched them go, a hollow, broken laugh bubbling up from my chest. Tears streamed down my face. So that was it. My pain, my suffering, their threats and their supposed concern… none of it mattered more than a single, drunken phone call from Jessica. I thought that would be the end of it. Ten years had taught me one thing: expect nothing from my parents, and even less from Shawn. But I never imagined their “methods” would come so swiftly. A few days later, I went out to buy some essentials. A group of the victims’ family members must have been tipped off. They cornered me in an alley, and a heavy iron pipe came down on the back of my head. When I woke up, I was inside a rough burlap sack. Through the coarse weave, I could see the dark, shimmering surface of a river. A man’s voice, thick with rage, snarled as a steel-toed boot slammed into my stomach. “You bitch. You thought you could just come back here after what you did?” His words ignited the others. “You give me back my daughter!” a woman shrieked, her voice raw with grief. “She was only nineteen, just started college! You monster!” “My mother died because of you! Because you cut corners! I’ll make you pay!” Fists and feet rained down on me. I tried to scream, to explain, but my mouth was gagged, my pleas muffled into desperate, animalistic sounds. When they finally grew tired, the man who seemed to be their leader spoke again, his voice a low growl. “You owe us for all the lives you took. Tearing you limb from limb wouldn’t be enough.” He spat. “Tonight, you pay your debt in blood.” I heard the whistle of an iron rod cutting through the air, followed by an explosion of agony. They hit me again, and again, and again. Ninety-nine times. I passed out, was revived by a splash of icy water, and the torture continued. I could feel my bones cracking, splintering under the relentless blows. Finally, as my consciousness faded into a dull, gray fog, they tied a heavy rock to my body and heaved me into the river.

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