Author: Momo Chan

1 My CEO husband’s new assistant was a walking disaster. Today, she decided to have a barbecue. In the sterile cleanroom lab. My three-billion-dollar project, instantly contaminated. She just bit her lip, tears welling in her big, innocent eyes. “I’m so sowwy, Rhiannon. Poppy just wanted to help you celebrate!” she whined, referring to herself in the third person. “Even if the project is ruined, we can still have our party, right? I’m still your favorite little helper, aren’t I?” My husband, Leo, wrapped a protective arm around her. “It’s only three billion,” he said, glaring at me. “Stop being so petty, Rhiannon. Consider it tuition for Poppy’s learning experience.” He waved a dismissive hand at the wreckage. “Besides, that dead-end research of yours was going nowhere. It’s time you shut down the lab and went home to be a good little trophy wife.” I had to wonder why he was so nonchalant about a three-billion-dollar project going up in smoke. And then it hit me. He thought it was my project. I started to laugh and clap my hands slowly. Oh, this was good. This was very good. It wasn’t my company on the verge of bankruptcy. … Leo’s brow furrowed at my reaction. “What are you laughing at, Rhiannon? Don’t think I don’t know what that smug look means.” “You’re just bitter about the money,” he sneered. “But let’s be honest, that project was a drain. You should be thanking Poppy for putting it out of its misery.” Poppy peeked out from behind his arm. “The lab just felt so cold and boring, Rhiannon. Poppy just wanted to liven things up a little! I didn’t know your experiments were so… fragile. It was an accident!” I laughed out loud. “Poppy, you’re twenty-two, not two. Drop the baby act.” I surveyed the catastrophic mess. For five years of marriage, I had cleaned up countless messes for Leo’s projects. I’d put my own research on hold to help him analyze his data. He only saw me as a frumpy, overworked scientist who left early and came home late. He had no idea that a top-tier tech firm was on the verge of signing a massive deal to acquire my research. Seeing my expression harden, Leo stepped in front of Poppy protectively. “That’s enough, Rhiannon! How long are you going to drag this out? It was only three billion dollars. A cheap price to pay for Poppy’s education, if you ask me!” He scoffed. “And your gene therapy research was a joke anyway. Just a money pit with nothing to show for it. Now that it’s gone, you can finally give up!” Behind him, Poppy shot me a triumphant, smug smirk. Fine. If Leo wasn’t worried about his own project being destroyed, why should I be? I turned to leave, but he grabbed my arm and spun me around. “Apologize to Poppy.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “She destroyed a three-billion-dollar project, and you want me to apologize to her? Leo, have you forgotten who your wife is?” He let out a derisive snort. “If you hadn’t built your lab in the company headquarters, Poppy never would have gone in there. If you weren’t such a miserable shrew all the time, she wouldn’t have felt the need to cheer you up. This is your fault, Rhiannon. You’re going to apologize, and then you’re going to pay her one million dollars for emotional distress.” His company’s capital was already stretched thin because of this project. Now, with a three-billion-dollar loss and massive breach-of-contract penalties looming, he wanted to give his “Poppy” a million-dollar bonus? Fine by me. Let the whole damn ship sink. I’ll watch from my lifeboat. “One million? No problem,” I said breezily, pulling out a corporate financial approval form. “Just sign here, Mr. CEO.” Leo scowled. “It’s your company paying. Why would I sign?” I spun a quick lie. “New bank regulations. Any large corporate transfer requires signatures from both spouses to prevent fraudulent asset shifting.” He eyed me with suspicion, but Poppy was already tugging at his arm. “Leo, honey, please sign it! Poppy wants to go shopping for new bags!” she cooed. “Rhiannon’s company is about to go bankrupt. If we wait too long, there might not be any money left!” The doubt in Leo’s eyes evaporated, replaced by impatience. He scribbled his name on the form, threw it in my face, and swept out of the lab with Poppy on his arm. I looked at his clear, confident signature and smiled. I hoped he enjoyed this feeling of power. It wouldn’t last long. Not when he discovered his company’s bank account had a balance of two hundred and fifty dollars. I went straight to the finance department. The CFO turned pale when he saw the form. “Ms. Thorne, are you sure about this transfer?” he stammered. “We’ve poured every last drop of liquid capital into this project. There isn’t a million dollars in cash flow!” I took a slow sip of my coffee. “Mr. Thorne personally approved it. Can’t you see his signature?” The CFO wiped sweat from his brow. “But… if this goes through, we won’t be able to make payroll next month. The employees will riot.” I shrugged. “That sounds like a problem for your CEO. Not me.” He didn’t dare argue. With a trembling hand, he processed the transfer. The next day, as I was packing up my personal data reports from the lab, Poppy burst in. She triumphantly dropped a dozen luxury shopping bags on the table. “Look what Leo bought me!” she chirped. “He said I was so brave yesterday and deserved a treat.” She dangled a limited-edition handbag in front of my face. “Isn’t it pretty? So hard to get.” She smirked. “Such a shame your company is going bankrupt, Rhiannon. Soon you won’t even be able to afford the knock-offs.” Leo stood beside her, arms crossed, the picture of arrogance. “It’s my money. I’ll spend it how I want. Don’t be so bitter, Rhiannon. You’re nothing now.” I looked up at him, my gaze calm. “We’re not divorced yet. That’s marital property you’re spending.” Leo laughed and threw a document at my face. “Your project’s debts are your own. Don’t try to pin them on me! I’m being generous by letting you stay on as Mrs. Thorne. Otherwise, you’ll be a laughingstock in this entire industry.” I picked up the document. It was a property settlement agreement. Everything in his name—the house, the cars, his company shares—would remain his. My project, and all its debt, would generously be left to me. He really had it all figured out. I looked at him and smiled. “Leo, did you forget? I own shares in your company, too.” His face darkened. “Don’t even think about it! Those were a gift. I can take them back anytime I want!” I pushed the agreement back toward him. “I’ll sign. On two conditions. The house is mine—it was a wedding gift from my parents. And I want a divorce.” Leo looked me up and down with contempt. “A divorce? Did your brain get fried along with your project, Rhiannon? Sign my agreement, and I’ll graciously give you a five-hundred-dollar monthly allowance to remain my wife.” Poppy chimed in, her voice sickly sweet. “And Leo said he’s making me the new Vice President! I can talk to him about giving you a job cleaning the toilets. How about that, Rhiannon?” I almost laughed in their faces. “Just answer the question, Leo. Are you going to grant me a divorce, or not?” He scoffed, his tone magnanimous. “Of course! Go ahead and take the house. It’s not even worth as much as a few of Poppy’s handbags.” He eagerly signed the divorce papers. With his signed settlement in hand, I went straight to my office. “Get the legal team on the phone. We’re filing for divorce,” I told my assistant. “And then, contact our broker. Sell all thirty percent of my shares in Thorne Industries. I want to see that stock price hit rock bottom.” Leo seemed to have forgotten that I had used my parents’ trust fund to get his project off the ground. Those shares weren’t a gift. They were a legally binding investment. On the day of my big signing ceremony, the newly appointed VP Poppy decided to make her mark. She gathered all the senior executives in the lobby for an impromptu meeting. “Poppy is VP now, and Poppy is going to create value!” she announced. “Poppy feels so bad about ruining Rhiannon’s project, so Poppy decided to bring in a new three-hundred-billion-dollar investment to make up for it!” As I approached, I could hear the executives fawning over her. “Amazing, Ms. Poppy! Three hundred billion!” “Mr. Thorne has a real eye for talent! With you here, the company is destined for greatness!” Beaming from the praise, Poppy spotted me and dragged me into a fire escape stairwell. She slammed a document against my chest. “Poppy found you a high-leverage investment deal! Just sign this, and your project will get three hundred billion dollars instantly!” I glanced at it. It was a gambling agreement, a leveraged bet. As I turned to walk away, several of Leo’s cronies, the senior executives, blocked my path and pinned me down. Poppy planted her stiletto heel on my chest, grinding it in. “This is your big chance, Rhiannon. Don’t be ungrateful!” I struggled, my heart pounding. My life’s work was about to be officially acquired, and this idiot was about to ruin everything. “I won’t sign it! This is illegal! I’m calling the police!” Poppy slapped me hard across the face. “Your project is a worthless piece of trash! Who do you think you are?” The executives joined in, kicking and punching me. “She’s doing you a favor, Rhiannon!” one of them grunted. “You should be on your knees thanking her!” Poppy smiled triumphantly. “Remember that new bank rule you mentioned? Leo already signed his part. All we need now is your fingerprint, and the deal is done!” My struggles were useless. They beat me until I was limp, kicking me in the face and ribs. In the chaos, Poppy used a small knife to slice my thumb, then pressed it onto the signature line of the agreement. She held up the document for everyone to see. Only then did I get a clear look at it. She had used Leo’s contaminated thirty-billion-dollar project as the basis for a 100x leveraged bet. I lay on the cold floor, bruised and bleeding, and started to laugh. The idiot. Poppy the idiot. She had just turned Leo’s thirty-billion-dollar loss into a three-hundred-billion-dollar debt. It was hilarious. Just then, one of the executives glanced at his watch. “The signing ceremony is about to start!” Poppy immediately let me go and rushed to meet Leo, who had just arrived. “Leo, honey, let’s go! I bet that top-tier tech firm is here to sign a deal for our project!” I staggered to my feet. Leo saw me and didn’t even bother to hide his disgust. “You actually have the nerve to show your face here, Rhiannon? A signing ceremony of this caliber is out of your league. Is your bankrupt little company even invited? Or did you just come to see what real success looks like? Pay attention. You might learn something.” He straightened his tie and strode confidently towards the stage. The CEO of the tech firm, Mr. Hayes, had just stepped up to the podium. Leo rushed past him, his expression dripping with arrogance. “Mr. Hayes,” he said loudly. “I hear you’re interested in my project. Ready to sign? Let’s talk terms. Anything less than a seventy-thirty split in my favor is a non-starter.” Mr. Hayes stared at him for a second, then took a step back as if Leo had lost his mind. A murmur went through the crowd of reporters. Then, the large screen behind the stage lit up. Leo stared at it, then his gaze snapped to me as I walked towards the signing table, his face a mask of utter disbelief.

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1 Nathan, my wife’s assistant, posted on his feed. A picture, and a caption. 【Thanks to my boss for the birthday celebration.】 The picture was of him and my wife, Amelia. Today was Nathan’s birthday. It was also mine. I had asked Amelia weeks ago to clear her schedule, to spend the day with me. She said she was too busy. The post was a minute old. I dialed her number. “Where are you?” My voice was tight. “Are you still sulking?” Her voice came through the phone, cool and distant. “It’s just a birthday, Julian. You know how critical this growth phase is for the company. I’m in Chicago, meeting with Mr. Davies. I can’t make it back.” “Right. You’re busy.” I hung up. I zoomed in on Nathan’s photo, recognizing the restaurant instantly. I was going to pay them a visit. I wanted to see exactly how Amelia would explain her way out of this one. … Tucked away in a secluded alley in the heart of the city is a small, private bistro. It’s not open to the public; it’s a sanctuary that belongs only to Amelia and me. We come here when we’re happy, to celebrate. We come here when we’re stressed, to escape. Mr. Gable, the owner and chef, specializes in a unique, restorative cuisine that seems to understand our very palates. Dining here is our way of shutting out the world. This place is our Eden. I’ve never brought a friend here. Amelia has never brought a friend here. It’s our unspoken rule. Today, she shattered it. The photo was taken here. Nathan was sitting in my usual seat. I drove to the alley and saw her car parked outside. So this was her “busy schedule.” I sat in my car for a long time, a sharp pain mingling with a cold fury in my chest. It seemed that as her family’s company, the Su Corp, had grown stronger over the years, she had started to see me as less and less important. Fine. It was time to remind her just how capable the man she once relied on still was. I got out of the car and walked into the alley. “This is amazing. And this one is even better,” Nathan was saying, critiquing the dishes on the table with the air of a seasoned critic. He pointed a thumb at Mr. Gable, who was standing quietly to the side. “Hey, old man, make another round of everything I just mentioned. I want to take it to go.” A flicker of annoyance crossed Gable’s face. Even I, a patron of years, always addressed him as Mr. Gable. I would never dream of ordering him around. As he always said, cooking is an art, and the menu is dictated by his inspiration. That’s why every meal here was a delightful surprise. He never cooked the same dish twice, not exactly. Gable looked at Amelia, his displeasure masked out of respect for her. “Nathan likes it. Please prepare it,” Amelia said, her tone flat. “Prepare what?” I asked, stepping through the doorway. Amelia’s face paled the moment she saw me. “Mr. Grimson,” Nathan said, scrambling to his feet. “I just wanted Gable to prepare some extra dishes for my father to try.” “And who the hell is your father,” I said, my voice dangerously low, “to deserve a taste of Mr. Gable’s cooking?” Nathan was clearly stunned by my bluntness. He shot a desperate look at Amelia, silently pleading for her to intervene. Amelia, who had never seen this side of me, hesitated for a moment. “Nathan,” she said finally, “why don’t you wait outside.” “Of course, Mr. Grimson,” he stammered, nodding at me before scurrying away. I ignored him. Gable looked at me. “I’ve been working on a new recipe for a special birthday dish. Let me get it started.” “I’ll eat in your study in a bit,” I told him. He nodded and left, closing the door softly behind him. Only then did Amelia speak. “Don’t you think you were being a little harsh?” I sat down in the chair Nathan had just vacated and stared at her. “Harsh?” “You lie about a business trip to celebrate another man’s birthday, and you want to talk about what’s harsh? Or do you think that with my power and influence, a few sharp words to your little assistant qualifies as harsh? Do you want to see what harsh really looks like?” “Don’t be ridiculous. There’s nothing between us,” she said quickly. “Nathan lost his mother when he was young. He comes from a single-parent home, and he craves female affection because of that void. He said I remind him of his mother, that he’s never had a mother with him for his birthday. As his boss, I thought it was a small kindness to celebrate with him.” My face was a mask of ice. “I’ve heard of women with daddy issues, but this is a new one.” “Julian, that’s a disgusting thing to say.” “You do something disgusting, and you expect me to respond with poetry?” I could feel my control slipping, but I forced my voice to remain steady. “Fine. Let’s not talk about it. If you’re looking for a thrill, let’s just get a divorce.” The word “divorce” seemed to pierce through her composure. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “I just had a meal with him. You don’t have to blow it so out of proportion.” “Today is my birthday too,” I reminded her. “And you made your choice.” She looked down. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” “Fire him.” “He’s a diligent and hardworking employee. You’re always saying we should give new talent a chance. Firing him just because I had one dinner with him isn’t fair. I promise, I won’t have any private contact with him again. It will be strictly professional.” “Nine a.m. tomorrow. The courthouse,” I said, standing up. I was done with this conversation. The truth was, when she chose to have dinner with him today, she had already made her choice. She chose him over me. And now, she was defending him. There was no point in continuing this marriage. “I just want to give a promising new employee a chance,” she said, rising to block my path. “I’ll transfer him to a subsidiary. He shouldn’t have to bear the consequences alone just because of a meal. If I fire him, what will people say?” She grabbed my hand. “You’re overthinking this. I truly felt sorry for him. We don’t have a baby yet… I guess my maternal instincts are kicking in.” Her voice dropped to a sultry whisper. “Maybe… we could work on making a baby tonight?” “Not in the mood.” “What do you want from me? You’re really going to divorce me over one dinner? Don’t you trust me at all?” “What is this place, Amelia?” My voice was cold steel. “No one else has ever set foot in here. This is our private world. Our sanctuary. It’s a place where no outsiders are allowed. And you brought him here. You crossed a line.” “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking. Please don’t be angry. Mr. Gable is making your special birthday dish. Let’s go try it. I’ll never bring anyone here again. I swear.” Gable’s cooking was, as always, sublime. But it did nothing to quell the fire in my gut. I was still seething, like a predator whose territory had been invaded. I couldn’t stand the sight of Amelia, so I sent her away and had a couple of drinks with Gable instead. “Forgive me for overstepping,” Gable said, watching me. “But the rumors about your family’s business are not good. I suggest you maintain a good relationship with Amelia. If the Grimson family really gets into trouble, the Su Corporation could be your lifeline.” I tossed back half a glass of whiskey. “Gable, why do you think she’s acting like this now?” He fell silent. He knew. She was acting this way precisely because of those rumors. The Grimson empire was about to fall, and she was starting to show her claws. “If those rumors were confirmed,” I said, “she wouldn’t have apologized today. And the person filing for divorce wouldn’t have been me.” Gable drained his glass. He knew I was right. “Times have changed,” he muttered. “If your family hadn’t pulled the Su Corp out of the mud, they would have been history years ago.” I smiled grimly. “The hand that lifted them up can also be the one that crushes them.” He gave me a look. He thought it was just bravado. All the news, all the whispers, pointed to one conclusion: the Grimson dynasty was over. I didn’t bother explaining. A decision was forming in my mind. I would use this incident with Amelia to show everyone whether the Grimson family would truly fall. When I got home, Amelia was uncharacteristically proactive. She was wearing something sheer and tempting, but I felt nothing. In the first couple of years of our marriage, she had been eager to please, constantly finding new ways to entice me. Back then, her family needed my help, the support of my corporate empire. But in the last two years, as the Su Corp clawed its way out of debt and began to soar, she had changed. She became passive, cold. My advances were often met with rejection. On the rare occasions she agreed, she would lie there like a corpse. I started to despise myself for even trying. It’s easy to forgive yourself, but hard to forgive others. The resentment had been building for a long time. Tonight, faced with this sudden, calculated seduction, I refused. I went to the guest bedroom upstairs and locked the door. Lying in bed, I realized we had been sleeping in separate rooms for nearly two years. The last time we’d been intimate was six months ago. She used to be the one locking the door. Tonight, it was me. The next morning, she had made breakfast, another rare occurrence. She was already at the table, waiting for me. I ate in silence. I could feel her wanting to speak, but my cold wall was impenetrable. Around noon, her mother called. She said it had been too long and invited us over for dinner that night. She played her trump card: my own parents would be there. I knew Amelia had arranged it, a last-ditch effort to smooth things over. But the cracks in our marriage weren’t from a single day. Her dinner with Nathan was just the spark that ignited the bonfire. Still, I had thought about it all night. Divorcing her over a single meal did seem a bit childish. I decided to see how she would play her hand. At dinner, Amelia handed a proposal to my father. “Dad, take a look at this. It’s the plan for the Southbridge Project.” My father took it and read it carefully. “Impressive. Very insightful. If you follow this plan, the profit margins on the Southbridge Project could be maximized. I’ll take this with me and review it more closely.” Amelia beamed. “It’s not just for you to look at, Dad. We’ll need your full support to make this project a success.” And there it was. My family still had value. Our influence was crucial for her project. That was the real reason she hadn’t pushed for a clean break. I remained silent throughout the meal. The atmosphere was lively, pleasant even. But Amelia and I both knew we were just actors in a play. I had a bit to drink, so she drove home. “Nathan was the one who drafted that proposal,” she said, her eyes on the road. “Even your father was impressed. He’s a real talent. I only had dinner with him because I want to keep him with the company. That’s all.” “I thought tonight was about fixing our relationship,” I said flatly. “But I was wrong. This is about you not wanting to fire him, isn’t it?” “Julian, you’re being deliberately obtuse! I’m just trying to retain a valuable asset for the company. He just graduated, but other firms are already trying to poach him. You have to offer special treatment to keep someone like that.” “So if he said he’d only stay if I gave you to him, would you do that too?” “You’re being irrational,” she snapped, her face hardening. “If I fire him, we can’t use his proposal. I don’t know how I would explain that to your father. You can tell him.” A humorless laugh escaped my lips. So that was her game. Talent? What a joke. A new wave of brilliant graduates enters the market every year. This world has never had a shortage of talent. What it lacks are opportunities. Since she wanted to play games, it was time to show her what kind of man Julian Grimson really was. It was time to see if I still had a say in things, even with her family’s newfound power. The next morning, I went to my office at the Su Corp. She wouldn’t fire Nathan, so I would. At 9:30 a.m., as I was sipping my tea and enjoying the river view, my office door was thrown open. Amelia slammed a contract down on my desk, her face flushed with anger. “Julian, what is the meaning of this? I told you he was a talent! I already showed his proposal to your father. Why did you fire him?” “Amelia, do you really think I’m that stupid? When you showed my father that proposal yesterday, did you mention it was Nathan’s? My father would have praised it even if you’d just scribbled nonsense on it, because you’re his daughter-in-law. Did you really think it was that brilliant?” I tossed a file in front of her. “Take a closer look at this.” She picked it up. It was the same proposal she had given my father, but now it was covered in red ink. “The red lines are corrections. The circled sections are fundamentally flawed, completely unworkable for the Southbridge Project. You had the audacity to show this to my father? All those other proposals you’ve shown him over the years? The ones that came back to you polished and perfect? I was the one who fixed them. My father asked me to fix this one for you too. Whether Nathan is a ‘talent’ is debatable. But whether you’re a competent Chairwoman is a serious question.” She didn’t back down. “Even if his proposal wasn’t perfect, it had merit! He has fresh ideas! The company needs people like him. Julian, I expect you to hire him back. And don’t forget, you are the Vice Chairman of my family’s corporation. I am the Chairwoman. You do not have the authority to fire my assistant.” “And if I refuse?” I asked, my voice dangerously quiet. I met her gaze. Her family’s power was growing, and in the last two days, she had clearly decided on her path. Now I just had to see if she would be the one to mention divorce. She didn’t. She just spun on her heel and stormed out. Just as I expected. My family still had leverage she wasn’t ready to give up. But she wasn’t going to make it easy for me, either. She decided to push back, harder, challenging my boundaries in the most painful way possible. Nathan posted again. 【It’s official. Got the confirmation from the boss!】 The picture was of his signed, full-time employment contract. The location was Mr. Gable’s bistro. She knew exactly how to hurt me. She had taken him back there. This time, I didn’t call her. There was no point. The first call was made with a sliver of hope still flickering in my heart. That hope was now extinguished. My phone rang. It was Gable. “Julian,” he said, his voice heavy. “I wasn’t going to call, but I think you should know. I’m leaving.” “Leaving? What do you mean, Gable?” “I’m tired. I want to see the world. Someone else will be taking over the bistro.” “I understand, Gable. And the disrespect you were shown… I will make it right.” “It’s not what you think, son. I’m just old and tired. Don’t let this affect your relationship with Amelia.” I hung up and drove straight to the bistro. Only Nathan was there. He jumped up when I walked in. “Mr. Grimson, it was Amelia’s idea! She said my proposal was excellent and wanted to make me a permanent employee. I didn’t mean for this to happen. There’s nothing going on between us.” I didn’t even look at him. “Where is she?” “That old guy, Gable, wasn’t happy with me. He said he didn’t feel like cooking and left. Amelia said she would cook for me herself. I couldn’t stop her.” His posture was submissive, but his tone was laced with a barely concealed triumph. Amelia was cooking for him. The pretense was well and truly over. Just as I was about to go find her, I heard the click of high heels on the floor. “Mr. Grimson, I’m sorry! I know I was wrong! Please, don’t hit me!” Nathan suddenly cried out. He grabbed an empty wine bottle from the table and smashed it over his own head. Blood trickled down his temple. Impressive. “Julian, that’s enough!” Amelia shouted, appearing in the doorway with a plate of food. “Apologize to Nathan. Right now.” “Nathan,” I mused. “How cozy.” I walked over and picked up the wine bottle from the floor. It hadn’t shattered completely. CRACK. I brought it down hard on Nathan’s head. “Now you can scream.” “Julian, you’re acting like a tyrant!” Amelia stared at me, her eyes wide with fury. “Mr. Grimson, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, it’s all my fault,” Nathan whimpered, hunching over, playing the victim to win her sympathy. “You did nothing wrong,” Amelia said, rushing to his side to support his swaying body. “I’m taking you to the hospital. And believe me, this isn’t over.” I sat alone in the empty bistro and called my father. “Dad,” I said, my voice tight. “I’m at my limit.” My father didn’t speak. “For two years, as her family’s business has grown, Amelia and I have drifted apart,” I continued. “The other day, on my birthday, she spent it with her assistant who shares the same birthday. I made a scene, so today, she cooked for him personally. I think the Su family’s wings have grown a little too strong.” “Just tell me what to do,” my father said, his voice calm and lethal. A weight lifted from my chest. “Break their wings,” I said. “Let’s watch them fall.” Not long after, my phone rang. It was Amelia. She told me to meet her at the courthouse. Half an hour later, we stood face to face on the courthouse steps. She had changed into a crisp, white suit, looking as proud and untouchable as a swan. Nathan was with her, a bandage wrapped around his head, his eyes burning with triumphant defiance. He thought he had won. But did he really think a woman like Amelia was driven by something as simple as love? She looked down at me, her expression one of condescending pity. “Julian, you still don’t seem to understand the situation. The Grimson empire is collapsing. I’m giving you one last chance. Kneel and apologize to Nathan, and I might consider not divorcing you.”

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I was the Ashton family’s showpiece daughter. My father drove my mother to her death and never once gave me a kind look. The one saving grace was my two childhood knights. They were the ones who pulled me from the rooftop ledge, who stopped my numb acts of self-harm. They were my antidote. But when I returned home from my studies abroad, everything had changed. They had found a new princess, and I was cast as the wicked witch who tormented her. I watched them shield my father’s stepdaughter, their eyes filled with a wariness once reserved for strangers. The antidote had become a lethal poison. My illness worsened. Finally, I decided to grant them their wish and disappear. 1 Today was my birthday. It was also the first anniversary of my return to the city. I scrolled numbly through my social media feed, watching the endless stream of birthday wishes Sean and Ian were posting for Molly. They were the boys I had grown up with, my closest friends. Now, it was as if I’d never existed. A bitter smile touched my lips. I wasn’t sure if it was the medication kicking in or my psychosomatic symptoms flaring up again, but the exhaustion was bone-deep. On a day meant for celebration, all I could feel was a creeping desire for it all to end. I knew I couldn’t put it off any longer. My illness was winning. After a moment of hesitation, I dialed my grandfather’s number overseas. “Grandpa, I’ve made up my mind. I’ll come back for the treatment.” A heavy sigh came from the other end. “Leah, my dear,” he said, his voice laced with pain, “Why would you say this on your birthday? Did they hurt you again?” His words were enough to make my eyes well up, but I fought back the tears, not wanting to worry him. “No, nothing like that.” “It’s okay, my sweet girl,” his loving voice soothed me. “I’m an old man now. I can’t do much about that bastard Julian, but I can make sure you get well. I’ll make the arrangements. In two weeks, I’ll have you here with me.” “As for those two boys…, people change, Leah. Don’t let them break your heart.” I nodded, though he couldn’t see, and after saying our goodbyes, I ended the call. Staring out at the city lights, I was lost in thought. People change. I knew that. But when I came home and saw the two friends I cherished most in the world ignoring me, choosing my father’s illegitimate daughter over me, believing her lies and looking at me with disgust… the pain was so sharp it stole the air from my lungs. The depth of my love for them was matched only by the depth of the wounds they inflicted. As a child, my father, Julian Ashton, had despised my mother, and by extension, me. His years of cold neglect had sent me spiraling into a deep depression. At its worst, I almost stepped off the roof of our penthouse. It was Sean and Ian who pulled me back, time and time again. They dragged me out, made me play, and slowly, carefully, drew me out of the shadows. Back then, they were my cure. Now, the medicine had turned to poison. Their distance, their coldness, had made me sicker than ever. My body was a knot of tension as I lay in bed. I took two extra sleeping pills, hoping for oblivion. Just as sleep was about to take me, my phone buzzed. I squinted at the screen. It was Sean. A flicker of hope, pathetic as it was, sparked in my chest. Maybe this was it. Maybe they remembered. Then his first words snuffed it out. “We’re at Molly’s birthday party. She mentioned it was your birthday too and was worried you’d be lonely, so she asked us to call.” The raucous sound of their celebration was a stark contrast to the crushing silence of my room. My last shred of hope shattered. I opened my mouth, but no words came out. I didn’t have the strength. Sean waited a moment, then his voice, usually warm, was clipped with impatience. “Leah? Are you there? What’s with the silent treatment? Molly was being nice, worried you were all alone. Can you stop being so hostile to her all the time?” I could hear a soft murmur in the background, probably Molly telling him not to be so harsh. Sean huffed but fell silent, passing the phone to his brother. Ian’s cool, detached voice came through the line. “Happy birthday. We got you a gift, we’ll give it to you at the party tomorrow… If there’s nothing else, we’re going to hang up. The fireworks Molly wanted to see are about to start.” His tone was all business, softening only when he said Molly’s name, a hint of affection coloring the word. I ended the call, my hand falling limply to my side. I didn’t understand. I had only been away for a few years. How could the devotion that was once mine be given away so easily, so completely? I had tried to win them back. I had fought and cried, but nothing worked. It never earned me so much as a second glance. All I could do was retreat, defeated and alone. I wiped the tears from my face. I knew it was going to be another long, sleepless night. 2 Every year, Julian Ashton threw me a birthday gala. He called it a celebration, but I knew the truth. It was a performance, a way to market his public image as a doting father while parading me around for business connections. I’d drunk myself into stomach ulcers at these parties, all for the sake of his damn projects. But attendance was never optional. A stir at the entrance drew my attention. Molly, dressed in a magnificent ball gown fit for a princess, glided in, flanked by Ian and Sean. She blushed and hid behind Sean, feigning shyness, as if overwhelmed by the scene. I watched her, a cold amusement rising in me. If she was truly uncomfortable, would she have worn something so ostentatious? Would she have made such a grand entrance? Molly spotted me and hurried over, grasping my hand. Her lower lip jutted out in a pout. “Leah, I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her voice thick with false contrition. “I know Dad threw this party just for you, but…” She shot a look at the two towering men beside her, a mix of shy blame and affection. “They insisted I come. They said since it’s my birthday too, I’m a guest of honor…” She clung to my arm, her words overflowing with apology and helplessness, as if terrified I might be upset. But I saw it clearly—the triumphant glint in her eyes. I let out a quiet, mirthless laugh. I had no energy to play along with her charade. I pulled my hand away without a word. That simple gesture seemed to ignite their fury. In the eyes of Ian and Sean, it was a declaration of war. Sean immediately stepped in front of a teary-eyed Molly, shielding her as if from a physical blow. Ian’s brow furrowed, his gaze landing on me, heavy with disappointment. “Leah, how could a few years abroad make you so selfish?” I looked at the two brothers, their faces set in hostile lines, and a profound weariness washed over me. To be publicly reprimanded at my own birthday party, simply for not responding to Molly’s act. I had endured this, in one form or another, countless times over the past year. I had argued. I had cried. I had pleaded. Nothing could win back a single kind glance from Ian or Sean. Now, I was just tired. I didn’t want to fight anymore. I turned to leave. But Ian’s hand shot out, his fingers closing around my arm. I looked at him, my exhaustion plain on my face. For a split second, his grip faltered, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. “Where do you think you’re going? Apologize to Molly!” Sean, ever the hothead, snapped before Ian could speak. I tried to pull my arm free, but his grip was like iron. I understood then. Ian, the cool, calculating one, felt the same way. The eyes of the room were on me, a mixture of pity and amusement. They all knew. The girl who was once the center of the Grant brothers’ world had lost everything. They were all waiting for the next act of my humiliation. A smirk pulled at my lips. “Why should I apologize?” “Molly grew up an orphan,” Ian said, his tone one of patient reason, as if explaining a simple concept to a child. “She never had a real birthday until your father adopted her. She’s never been to a party this grand. You’ve had parties like this your entire life. Is it really so hard to share just one with her?” His words were like little shards of glass embedding themselves in my heart. An orphan? They actually believed Julian’s ridiculous cover story! Molly wasn’t adopted. She was my half-sister, born to my father’s mistress less than a year after I was. The tension in the room was suffocating. Just as the whispers and mocking glances reached their peak, Julian finally made his appearance, rushing over to play peacemaker. “Ah, Ian, Sean! No need for all this!” he said, clapping them on the shoulders with sickening familiarity. “Molly is such a sensible girl. I was already planning to celebrate her birthday tonight as well!” He then turned to me, his voice taking on a tone of gentle chiding. “Leah! You need to stop being so willful. Molly is your sister, after all!” His words were earnest, but his meaning was clear: I was the selfish, spoiled heiress, and Molly was the blameless victim. The hypocrisy made me nauseous. I scanned the faces around me—my duplicitous father, my treacherous friends, his innocent-looking mistress’s daughter—and felt a wave of pathetic irony wash over me. With a final surge of strength, I ripped my arm from Ian’s grasp. “Fine. If you all want it so badly, then this party is for her. Let the entire night be for Molly Ashton.” If it’s for her, I thought with a bitter twist in my gut, at least she won’t have to spend the night poisoning herself with alcohol to please potential business partners. I laughed at my own dark humor and walked towards the exit without a backward glance. 3 “Leah! What about your present?” Sean caught up to me at the door, hesitating for a moment before holding out a gift box. I opened it. Inside lay a diamond necklace, clearly expensive. I was surprised. I’d assumed they’d just grabbed some token gift, not something so… thoughtful. I bit my lip, about to say something, when Molly appeared beside us. “You should take it, Leah,” she chirped, lifting the necklace from its velvet cushion and moving to fasten it around my neck. “They were so busy making my gift by hand that I had to pick this out for them.” She giggled. “It cost a fortune! But I figured you’re the type who likes expensive things. Not like me, I’m happy with childish little crafts. They spent so much time on my gift, you know.” The warmth that had begun to seep back into my chest instantly turned to ice. I stopped her hand before the clasp could close. “No, thank you,” I said, my voice flat. I mocked myself for my foolishness. Of course. It was just a thoughtless, outsourced gift. And I’d actually believed for a second that they had chosen it for me. They were too busy doting on their precious Molly to spare a moment for me. “I don’t wear necklaces. If you like it so much, you can have it.” I walked out into the night, not seeing the two men staring holes into my retreating back. Julian had never assigned me a driver, so I walked home alone under the cloak of darkness. As I passed the central plaza, I saw three children setting off sparklers. A little girl stood in the middle, her face lit up with pure joy, her eyes sparkling brighter than the fireworks. On either side of her, two boys held the sparklers aloft, their gazes fixed on her, their faces soft with adoration. I stopped, a small smile finding its way to my lips. But as I watched, the smile dissolved, and tears began to stream down my face. I remembered when my grades slipped, and the Ashton family staff whispered behind my back about how I was a disappointment. It was Ian who had patiently tutored me for hours until I understood. I remembered being bullied at school, hiding in a bathroom stall to cry because I had no one to stand up for me. It was Sean who found me, who hunted down the bullies and taught them a lesson, coming back bruised and bleeding but grinning and telling me it was nothing. Back then, everyone said that Ian and Sean Grant were my exclusive knights. And now? For Molly, they stood with Julian Ashton. They stood on the opposite side of a battlefield I never wanted to be on. I wiped my tears, the pain in my chest a physical, crushing weight. I didn’t understand how they, knowing everything I had been through, could so easily align themselves with the man who had caused it all. Or maybe… maybe it was all a lie? Maybe the salvation I thought I’d found was just a game for two bored, wealthy boys. And as soon as I was gone, Julian brought his real daughter home, and they finally found their true princess. “How nice…” I murmured, watching the children’s laughing silhouettes. With a bitter chuckle, I turned and walked away, disappearing into the shadows. 4 The day I was set to leave, I went to the Grant’s home. The moment I stepped inside, Eleanor Grant pulled me into a warm embrace, her beautiful face etched with concern. “My dear child,” she sighed, leading me to the sofa. “I heard about what happened at the party. Those two idiots! I swear, when they get home, I’ll give them a piece of my mind for you!” I took her hand, managing a faint smile. “It’s alright, Eleanor… I don’t want to be a bother anymore. I’m leaving the country today.” “A bother? You could never be… What? You’re leaving?” “Yes… This time, I’m doing it for me.” I lowered my eyes, hiding the turmoil within. “And if all goes well, I won’t be coming back.” Eleanor was speechless for a long moment, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “Is it the illness? Is it worse? Because of them?” I didn’t answer, only squeezed her hand. “I’ll miss you.” “Do they know?” I shook my head. Eleanor let out a long, pained sigh. “Of course not. Are you sure you don’t want to tell them? When you left for your studies, they were both miserable for months. Maybe this time…” Before I could respond, the front door swung open. Ian and Sean walked in, their arms laden with shopping bags. Trailing behind them, dressed to the nines, was Molly. “Mom, look who’s here!” Sean called out, his cheerful expression vanishing the moment he saw me. “What are you doing here?” Eleanor’s brow knitted in a sharp line. “I invited her. Is that a problem for you?” Sean pouted and shot me a dark look, but said nothing more. “Mom, Molly is here. You haven’t met her properly yet,” Ian said, stepping in to smooth things over. He guided Molly forward. “She’s been preparing for this visit all week. Look, all these are gifts she brought for you.” Molly offered a shy smile and was about to speak, but Eleanor cut her off. “That won’t be necessary. She is not welcome in my home.” “Mom!” Ian’s voice was sharp. “Don’t you ‘Mom’ me!” Eleanor stood, pulling me closer to her side. “Have I or have I not told you two that you are not to hurt Leah?” Molly took a step forward, her eyes welling up as if she’d been dealt a mortal blow. “Mrs. Grant, you’ve misunderstood! They were just trying to protect me…” she choked out, her voice trembling. “I’m sorry, it’s all my fault… I shouldn’t have made Leah upset… If you’re going to blame someone, please, blame me…” Tears streamed down her face, the perfect picture of a brave, tragic heroine. It worked. Ian’s expression softened instantly. He wrapped an arm around her, turning to his mother with a hard edge to his voice. “Mom! Can you please stop defending her unconditionally for once?” Eleanor stared at him, stunned, clearly unable to believe her composed, responsible eldest son would ever speak to her that way. “Ian, you disappoint me more than I can say!” “For a stepdaughter, you’ve hurt the girl who grew up with you, and now you raise your voice to your own mother!” “So what if she’s a stepdaughter?” Sean retorted. Looking at their stubborn, unyielding faces, Eleanor looked like she was about to faint from sheer rage. I quickly rubbed her back, trying to soothe her. “Leah is leaving today!” Eleanor finally burst out, pointing a trembling finger at her sons. She had said it. I knew she was still clinging to the hope that our bond meant something to them. And wasn’t a part of me, a stupid, foolish part, hoping for the same thing? I looked at them, a secret prayer in my heart. Their response was a cold sneer. “Mom, you don’t have to resort to threats like that,” Ian said calmly. “Leah is waiting to inherit the Ashton fortune. She’s not going anywhere.” “Besides,” Sean added, “even if she leaves, what does that have to do with us?” My heart, which I thought couldn’t break any further, splintered into dust. I looked at the two of them, the boys I once loved, as if they were complete strangers. My voice was a raw whisper. “It was me… I lied to Mrs. Grant. I’m sorry… I’m begging you, please, just go. Don’t upset your mother anymore…” Ian’s gaze on me was deep and unreadable. He didn’t say another word, simply turned and led Molly out of the house. Sean glanced back over his shoulder, a flicker of conflict on his face, as if he wanted to say something. But in the end, he followed them, leaving without a word. Eleanor watched them go, a single, heavy sigh escaping her lips. “Leah,” she said, her voice heavy with sorrow. “You’re doing the right thing. I won’t stop you anymore.” “Go. Be free.” 5 It’s been a month since I left. Today is Christmas, and the streets are thronged with people. Across the crowded square, I saw them. The two people I thought I would never have to see again. The smile fell from my face. Without a second’s hesitation, I turned and ran. I didn’t get two steps before a hand closed around my wrist. I whipped around to find Ian’s cool, sculpted face just inches from mine. His clothes were disheveled, his usual perfect composure completely gone. Before I could react, Sean was there too, blocking my path. He looked just as haggard. His hair, which he was usually so meticulous about, was a mess. I was confused, but my overriding instinct was to flee. I had no idea why they were here, but I knew one thing for certain: nothing good could come of this. “What are you doing here?” I asked, my voice dripping with ice. “I’m on the other side of the world. I’m no threat to your precious Molly.” Their faces tightened at my words, but for the first time, they didn’t argue back. “Leah, come home with us.” I laughed, a harsh, ugly sound. “Come home? To what? To be your personal punching bag?” Sean’s head drooped. The explosive temper was gone, replaced by a pleading tone I’d never heard from him before. “Leah… we messed up. We neglected you… we didn’t mean for any of it to happen. You can’t just disappear.” I found the notion so absurd I wanted to scream. They didn’t mean it? So I was just collateral damage? I deserved to be targeted, to be ostracized, to become a villain in their eyes for simply existing? I didn’t want to talk to them anymore. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ethan Vance waving at me from a short distance away. He reached my side in a few strides and gently but firmly pried my hand from Ian’s grasp. Ethan was the psychologist my grandfather had found for me. He knew my story. He knew these two men were the source of my illness. Without a word, he took my hand and started to lead me away. Sean blocked his path, his eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Dr. Vance? How do you know Leah?” I froze. They knew Ethan? Ian must have seen the confusion on my face. “The Vance and Grant families have business dealings,” he explained, his deep eyes boring into mine. “He’s a renowned psychologist… Leah, how do you know him?” The implication dawned on Sean, and his gaze snapped to me, sharp and intense. “But you’re better now, aren’t you?” “Better?” I scoffed. “Did I ever say that? You two never gave a damn about my health. Why are you asking now?” “But… your father and Molly both said you were fine… They said that’s why you went abroad, to get away from us.” A wave of exhaustion crashed over me. Because Molly said it, they believed it. Just like that. “Then you can go on believing I’m fine.” Ignoring their pleas, I turned my back on them, my face a cold mask, and let Ethan lead me away. I had no idea that walking away this time would be the biggest turning point of my life. 6 I was in a car accident. I woke up to the sterile white ceiling of a hospital room and the anxious face of my grandfather. The doctor said I’d sustained a head injury and might have some memory loss. But as I searched my mind, everything seemed more or less intact. Except for two people. Their shadows haunted every corner of my memory, but for the life of me, I couldn’t picture their faces. My grandfather sighed, patting my hand. “If you can’t remember, then don’t try,” he said gently. “It’s for the best, my dear.” I didn’t understand, but I did as he said. One day, while walking in the hospital garden, a man suddenly appeared in front of me. He looked frantic, his eyes wide as he stared at me. Unsettled, I turned to walk away. But my path was blocked by another man who looked almost identical to the first. They stood on either side of me, their eyes mirroring the same profound, heart-wrenching pain. “Leah…” I frowned. “Who are you? How do you know my name?” They started to explain, but my grandfather rushed down, pulling me behind him and shielding me from their approach. I could only watch as they pleaded with him, their voices desperate. They said “I’m sorry” over and over, their eyes growing red. But my grandfather was resolute. He sent them away. When I asked him who they were, his expression grew grim. He took my hand and said, “My dear child, it’s better not to know. They aren’t important.” After that, I started seeing them everywhere. They would find ways to see me when my grandfather wasn’t around. Every morning, a new bouquet of fresh flowers would be at my bedside. They tried everything to win my favor, but whenever I saw them, an inexplicable sadness would wash over me. I finally told them about it, asking them to please stop coming. But the calmer one, the one called Ian, his eyes immediately turned red. The other one, Sean, just broke down, grabbing my hand and apologizing relentlessly. “Leah… we were wrong. We’ve already made those people pay for what they did. Please, don’t… don’t do this to yourself because of us…” I didn’t know what they were sorry for. I didn’t know who they’d made “pay.” But my heart began to throb with a familiar, agonizing pain, and tears I couldn’t control began to fall. 7 There was someone else who visited me often during my recovery. His name was Ethan Vance. I remembered he was my psychologist. But I’d forgotten why I was so sick in the first place. I only had a vague feeling that it had something to do with those two men… Whenever I tried to remember them, a sharp pain would shoot through my head. Ethan would gently tell me not to force it. He was endlessly patient, guiding me through my physical therapy and filling the quiet hours with fascinating stories. He pulled me back from the brink of despair again and again. The feeling was so familiar, as if I’d experienced it a thousand times before in my childhood… I couldn’t place it, and simply attributed it to his kind nature. Over that month in the hospital, we grew closer. That feeling of familiar comfort, combined with his gentle care, made me realize I was falling in love with him. I told him so, directly. His face flushed a deep red, but he met my gaze without flinching. I knew. He felt the same way. On my last day in the hospital, in the privacy of my room, we shared our first kiss. I buried my face in his chest, shy and giddy. When I glanced up, my happiness froze. Two men were standing in the doorway. They were holding bouquets of flowers, their eyes crimson. And they were staring right at us. It was Ian and Sean. I will never forget the raw, devastating anguish in their eyes. It washed over me like a tidal wave. And there it was again. That crushing pain, flooding my heart. Ethan held me close, murmuring comforting words as he slipped a pill into my mouth. I don’t know what he said to them. Their expressions were tortured, almost savage, but after a long look at my pale, trembling form, they turned and left. I was discharged from the hospital. My physical recovery was going well. Except for the missing pieces of my memory, everything was slowly returning to normal. But for some reason, I constantly had the feeling that I was being watched. I tried to ignore it, telling myself I was just being paranoid. Until one evening, after a date with Ethan, the world went black. I collapsed, and when I woke up, I was in a strange house.

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1 The new intern was a walking disaster, but my boyfriend, the department head, insisted on assigning her to me. He even wanted me to let her observe in the operating room. I warned her a thousand times: do not, under any circumstances, hand me the wrong instrument. She still swapped the hemostat for a scalpel. The patient bled out on the table. My license was revoked, my career destroyed. And the intern? She hid behind my boyfriend, her voice trembling. “Dr. Snook, I was just trying to help you finish faster… I didn’t know this would happen…” My boyfriend shoved me aside, his eyes filled with disgust. “Luna was just trying to help! You’re the lead surgeon, and you can’t handle one little complication? You have the nerve to blame her?” Heartbroken, I went home to pack my things, only to be drugged and knocked unconscious by him. When I woke up, I was strapped to a surgical table. I watched, horrified, as the intern plunged a scalpel into my femoral artery. My boyfriend just comforted her, “It’s okay. Just get some practice in. You’ll hit the right spot eventually.” I died from the excruciating pain, but not before they had carved 108 separate wounds into my body. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the intern’s first day. This time, I’ll make sure that damned pair becomes a permanent contribution to medical science. … “Dr. Snook, this is our new intern, Luna Vance. Have her observe your surgery today.” The familiar words sent a shiver down my spine. I stared at Luna, who my boyfriend, Mark Jennings, had just pushed toward me. In that instant, I knew. I had been reborn. Luna beamed, her face a mask of pure innocence. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Snook. I’ll do my best to learn from you!” But the surgery was already underway. The patient was prepped on the table. There was no time to think. I quickly pulled on a pair of sterile gloves. “Stay back. Don’t touch anything. And don’t make a sound.” The scalpel sliced through skin. My focus narrowed. “Surgical lamp, closer.” I fell into the rhythm of the procedure, my movements sure and swift. Without looking up, I held out my hand. “Hemostat.” In my peripheral vision, I saw Luna pick up a scalpel and start to pass it to me. This was exactly how it happened last time. I hadn’t noticed, and I’d reached directly into the patient’s abdominal cavity, severing the aorta in a single, fatal motion. The patient died. I lost my license. Mark blamed it all on me, his voice dripping with contempt as he berated me for not handling the “complication.” Then he drugged me, tied me down, and turned me into a living textbook for Luna to practice on. She carved into me, again and again, while Mark stood by, encouraging her. One hundred and eight stab wounds. I died in unimaginable agony. The memory made my hand tremble with rage. I snapped my hand back, away from Luna’s. “Luna, who told you to touch the instruments?” She froze, her eyes instantly welling with tears. “Dr. Snook, I… I was just trying to help…” “Help?” I shot back. “Help me what? Murder the patient?” From the observation room, Mark’s voice crackled through the intercom. “Ava! Why are you yelling at a trainee?” “Luna was just trying to help! Besides, no harm was done!” I ignored him, took a fresh hemostat from the scrub nurse, and expertly clamped the bleeder. “Get her out of here. The OR is not a place for her to play house.” Last time, because Mark defended her, my resolve softened and I let her stay. The result? As I was closing, she “accidentally” bumped my arm. The suture needle went astray, causing another massive hemorrhage. The patient couldn’t be saved. Afterward, she’d hidden behind Mark, sobbing, “I was just trying to cheer Dr. Snook on, I didn’t know her hands were so unsteady…” The memory of my own brutal death hardened my heart. I pushed all thoughts aside and focused on the surgery, right down to the final suture. “Surgery successful. Patient’s vitals are stable.” Just as I let out a breath of relief, I heard a loud bang. Luna, who was supposed to have been escorted out, had snuck back in. She had stumbled and crashed right into the suspended surgical lamp. The heavy fixture swung violently, hurtling straight toward the patient’s head. Without thinking, I dove forward, shielding the patient’s surgical wound with my own back. The lamp crashed into me. I gritted my teeth, holding my ground. My colleagues rushed to lift the heavy lamp off of me. I spun around before Luna could even begin her tearful performance. And I kicked her. Hard. Right out of the operating room. She tumbled onto the floor outside in a pathetic heap. Mark saw it and roared at me. “Ava! Are you insane? She was just observing! What gives you the right to assault her?” I pulled off my mask, my eyes cold as I looked at the woman he was cradling in his arms. “Dr. Jennings, your intern can’t tell the difference between a hemostat and a scalpel.” “She created chaos in a sterile environment, endangering the patient and nearly causing the surgery to fail.” “You ask me what gives me the right?” I advanced on them, step by step. “Let me ask you two something. Are you here to save lives, or are you here to commit murder?” Mark was speechless, his face turning a dark shade of red. In his arms, Luna’s sobs grew louder, her shoulders shaking pitifully. “Dr. Snook, I really didn’t mean it… It was my first time in the OR, I was so nervous…” “I just wanted to help you work faster, I never thought I’d cause trouble…” Mark patted her back, his voice full of concern. “Ava, she’s just a student. Do you have to blow this out of proportion?” “As her mentor, you should be teaching her patiently, not physically attacking her. Have you lost all sense of medical ethics?” Other colleagues began to gather, whispering amongst themselves. “Yeah, Dr. Snook is being way too harsh.” “She’s just an intern. They’re bound to make mistakes.” I let out a cold laugh, my gaze sweeping over the crowd. “On that table, the patient’s life is absolute. Any action that threatens that life is not a small mistake.” “Nervous? You’re so nervous you mistake a scalpel for a hemostat? So nervous you knock over sterile equipment?” “If I hadn’t reacted in time today, who would be responsible for the body on that table? You, Dr. Jennings?” Mark’s expression was one of pure, unadulterated arrogance. “Luna already told me everything! She said you pushed her because you thought she was in your way!” “I wasn’t going to say anything, to save you some face, but it’s clear now. If there was a real medical accident, you’d just try to pin it on her, wouldn’t you?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Did these two have no shame? “The OR has cameras. Why don’t we just take a look?” Mark snorted. “Look at what? Luna is a sweet, innocent girl straight out of med school. Do you really think she would lie?” “You, on the other hand, Ava, have become increasingly petty and small-minded! You can’t even tolerate an intern!” I looked at his face, contorted with disgust for me, and the last bit of warmth in my heart died. “Mark, we’re done.” He stared at me for a moment, then shrugged, a look of indifference on his face. “Fine by me. A doctor with no ethics like you is going to be fired sooner or later anyway.” “Don’t come crawling back to me when that happens, Ava.” He helped the sniveling Luna to her feet and walked away without a backward glance. I watched them go, a wave of nausea washing over me. Regret? My only regret was being blind enough to fall in love with a piece of human garbage like Mark Jennings in my last life. The wound on my back was a searing fire. I went straight to my office. A colleague saw the massive bruise blooming across my back and gasped. “My God, that must hurt like hell! Where’s Mark? Why isn’t he with you?” I managed a tight smile and said nothing. Thankfully, it was just a deep contusion. No broken bones. The next day, I had barely arrived at my department when I was summoned to the Dean’s office. “Ava, I heard about what happened yesterday. I know you were wronged.” “I’ve already given Dr. Jennings and that intern a stern warning.” I kept my eyes downcast, silent. The Dean sighed. “However, Mark is still the Head of Surgery. He says Luna is very talented and wants to give her another chance.” I refused immediately. “Dean, I can’t mentor her.” The Dean looked troubled. “Ava, I know this is difficult, but the Mayor’s son is scheduled for surgery next week. They’ve specifically requested you as the lead surgeon.” “Mark’s proposal is for Luna to continue observing under you for this one procedure. Consider it her final test.” The Mayor’s son. That surgery was under a huge microscope. He was handing me this time bomb again, hoping I’d crash and burn on the most important surgery of my career. Perfect. Just perfect. I was wondering how I was going to get them both at once. If they were going to offer up their own necks, who was I to refuse? “Fine. I agree.” For the next few days, I prepared for the surgery as usual. Luna shadowed me, acting uncharacteristically obedient. She brought me coffee, organized files—she was so diligent, it was like she was a different person. On the day of the surgery, the Mayor and a host of hospital executives were seated in the observation room. My procedure was flawless. Every step was a textbook example of perfection. Until the patient’s blood pressure dropped. We needed an emergency transfusion. Just as the scrub nurse was about to hand me a blood bag, Luna lunged forward, “tripping” and knocking it from her hand. It burst, spilling all over the floor. While my attention was on the patient, she immediately grabbed a new bag from the backup cart. “I’m so sorry… Here’s a new one, use this!” I connected the transfusion line and opened the valve. Almost instantly, the ECG monitor shrieked with a piercing alarm. The next second, the patient’s vitals flatlined. From the observation room, Mark’s voice boomed over the intercom. “Ava! What are you doing? The patient is in cardiac arrest!” “You must have nicked an artery! I told you your emotions have been unstable, you’re not fit to lead this surgery!” “This is criminal negligence!” Then came the Mayor’s voice, thick with anger and fear. “Dr. Snook, if anything happens to my son, your career won’t be the only thing that’s over!” “I’ll make sure you spend the rest of your life in prison for medical malpractice!” The Mayor’s threat echoed in my ears. But I wasn’t panicking. The surgery had been perfect. It couldn’t have been my error. So what was it? I had been so careful to keep Luna away from everything. How could this still happen? My eyes shot to the transfusion line. A stream of distinctly darker blood was flowing from the connection point into the patient’s body. An acute hemolytic reaction. I ripped out the IV line. “Switch to saline, and prepare a diuretic, stat!” My command was clear and unwavering. The assisting physician and nurses moved instantly. I stared at the ECG monitor. The flat line began to flicker, slowly returning to a regular rhythm. Everyone in the room breathed a sigh of relief. But I felt no relief at all. I looked at the backup cart. The patient was Type A. The bag hanging on the cart was AB. “Who brought this blood?” The scrub nurse’s face was white with terror. “It… it was Luna. After the first bag was spilled, she’s the one who handed you that one.” Luna started crying, waving her hands frantically. “I just took it from the backup cart! It has nothing to do with me!” There was no time to argue. I had to finish the procedure. When the surgery was finally over, I walked out of the OR doors. Mark strode up and slapped me across the face. “Ava! The blood bags are delivered directly from the blood bank. Luna just helped pass one to you. How is this her fault?” “It’s obvious you didn’t cross-check the blood type before the transfusion, and now you’re trying to blame an intern!” The Mayor’s eyes, sharp as daggers, fixed on me. “Dr. Snook, I need an explanation.” Mark couldn’t wait to jump in. “Mr. Mayor, a mismatched transfusion is a major medical incident. As the lead surgeon, she bears full responsibility!” “Our hospital will handle this with the utmost seriousness and give you a satisfactory answer!” Luna chimed in, sobbing her apologies. “Mr. Mayor, I was just anxious about the surgery, so I handed her the bag… I had no idea Dr. Snook wouldn’t perform the pre-transfusion checks…” Her words were expertly crafted. She was completely innocent, and I was the one who had grabbed the wrong blood? I ignored them. I instructed a nurse to retrieve both the spilled blood bag from the floor and the remaining bags from the backup cart. The Mayor was losing his patience, demanding an immediate explanation. Otherwise, he would have me arrested for gross negligence. I spoke calmly. “Mr. Mayor, I have proof that this incident was not my mistake.” “It was a deliberate act of sabotage. Someone was trying to murder your son.”

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My best friend, divorced and looking for a fresh start, moved to the city to live with me. For three years, I covered everything. Food, rent, you name it. I split my clothes, my jewelry, my handbags right down the middle with her. We were inseparable. Even my boyfriend couldn’t help but tease me. “Seven out of ten dates, and you bring your best friend along.” “What’s next? Is she going to be part of the dowry when we get married?” My friend, Lena, playfully punched him on the shoulder. “Hey, I’m like her second mom. Of course I have to keep an eye on you, make sure you’re not mistreating my darling Cici.” The three of us would laugh and roughhouse like that, a happy little tangle of limbs. With a soulmate and a loving partner by my side, I felt truly blessed. Until the day before my wedding, when I stumbled upon a viral post. [She used to be the one looking down on me, handing out her charity.] [Now, it’s finally my turn to pity her. I’m letting her have the man.] The accompanying photo was of my boyfriend, Alex, hanging wedding decorations in our new home. … Just two days ago, the three of us were setting up the apartment. Lena was folding red paper lanterns, chattering away about all the things I needed to prepare for the wedding day. Suddenly, her voice cracked. “Cici, after the wedding, I’m moving south.” “It’ll be so hard to see each other…” Her eyes were red, as if she were a mother sending her own daughter off, filled with a genuine sadness and reluctance. Alex, who was taping decorations to the wall, paused. He turned and gave us a long, searching look, a hint of melancholy in his own expression. Lena grabbed a handful of confetti and tossed it at him playfully. “If you ever dare to hurt Cici, I’ll never forgive you.” Alex, usually a neat freak, didn’t even get annoyed. He just bent down to clean up the mess, his voice muffled. “If her ‘second mom’ is that worried, why don’t you just stay in the city?” “You can have my downtown apartment, rent-free. That way you can supervise me whenever you want, and my Cici won’t be so sad.” Lena’s eyes lit up instantly. She shot me a hesitant glance. “I don’t know… that’s a huge condo. The rent is at least three thousand a month. And after you’re married, it’ll be part of Cici’s assets.” I was ecstatic. I completely missed the flicker of resentment in Lena’s tone. She was the older sister I never had, living next door since we were kids. In high school, when a bully took a pair of scissors to my hair, Lena grabbed the nearest stick and charged. When my first love cheated on me at twenty, Lena slapped him so hard his ear bled. We couldn’t afford the settlement, so she spent five days in a holding cell for assault. When she got out, the first thing she did was comfort me. “Cici, you’re such a pushover. What are you going to do if your husband bullies you after you get married?” “Then we just won’t get married. We’ll buy a big house together, get a cat, and when we’re old, we’ll sit on a park bench and sip bubble tea.” That’s why, when I started dating Alex, Lena resented him for ruining our retirement plan. And Alex constantly complained about how much of my time she took up. They were always at each other’s throats, sniping and bickering, sometimes getting so worked up their faces would turn red. I was always the one in the middle, trying to smooth things over. So when Alex suddenly seemed to understand how much I didn’t want Lena to move so far away, and even supported us staying close, I was overjoyed. I grabbed her hand, my voice bubbling with excitement. “That’s perfect! That apartment is just a short drive from our place! We can have our cat-cuddling, binge-watching nights again!” “Well… in that case, I’ll stay. Someone has to make sure Alex doesn’t have a secret mistress stashed away somewhere.” At that moment, Lena and Alex exchanged a look, the corners of their mouths twitching upwards. They both smiled at me. And I see it now. They were laughing at me. At my wholehearted, foolish trust. But… Lena? How could it be Lena? When my ex cheated on me, she was the one who was the most heartbroken for me. She stayed up all night, listening to me cry, doing everything she could to make me smile. My fingertips were numb as I scrolled through the post. A lot of the comments were tearing her apart, calling her a shameless backstabber. But she replied. [She deserves it.] [When we were kids, she was the one trailing after me, eating my snacks, wearing my hand-me-down dresses.] [Now that she’s landed a rich guy, she’s always tossing me her cast-offs, acting all high and mighty with her charity. It makes me sick.] Lena had always struggled financially, but she refused any money or expensive gifts from me. I remember one day, Alex and I picked her up from work and overheard her coworkers mocking her for wearing the same few outfits on rotation. After that, whenever we went shopping, I would secretly take note of the things she lingered on. Then I’d buy them, cut off the tags, and remove the packaging. Lena, these don’t really suit me. Can you do me a favor and take them off my hands? So that’s what she thought it was. Charity. The tone of the comments shifted. [OMG, the audacity!] [Girl, I support you. Steal her man. And when you’re done with him, toss him back.] [How’d you do it? Teach me your ways!] Lena replied with a string of thank yous and winking emojis. [At first, I felt bad. I just wanted to test him, see if he was reliable enough for her.] [He was pretty standoffish in the beginning, but that just made me want him more.] [The other night, my ‘best friend’ had a high fever. I deliberately wore her nightgown and walked around the living room. When her boyfriend came out with a glass of water and saw me, his ears turned bright red.] [Let’s just say the difference between an A-cup and a D-cup is… significant.] [I won’t go into details. But let’s just say, while my best friend was sleeping in the bedroom, he and I were busy in the living room. All. Night. Long.] I remembered waking up that morning, my fever broken. Lena was slumped by my bed, mumbling about how sore her back was. I had scolded Alex for sleeping soundly while Lena stayed up all night taking care of me. Lena had just laughed. “Don’t be too hard on him. He was… working pretty hard last night too… taking care of you. You’re going to be so happy with him.” It felt like a thousand steel needles were being driven into my heart, over and over again. Twelve years of friendship, and only now did I see her second face. All her blessings and well wishes were just a cover for her betrayal. The comment section was going wild. [Damn girl, you’re a genius! Her boyfriend got a serious upgrade.] [How did your friend land a rich guy with that body anyway?] [But wait, isn’t he scared she’ll find out?] Lena replied with more smug emojis. [Of course he is. Terrified.] [That’s why he gave me a credit card with a ten-thousand-dollar monthly limit. Hush money.] [The funniest part is, I told my ‘friend’ that all rich men have mistresses. The idiot would never in a million years guess that I’m the one spending her boyfriend’s money.] [But I think… I think he’s actually falling for me.] [It used to be just sex. Now he secretly asks me to keep him company when he works late. He’ll fly for hours just to eat at some hole-in-the-wall place with me.] [The other day, he even said he wished he had met me sooner. That if he had, I’d be the one trying on a wedding dress right now.] A tidal wave of humiliation and pain crashed over me, threatening to drown me. I stumbled into the bathroom. I stood under the shower, letting the cold water pour over me, again and again, but I couldn’t calm the storm inside. Through a daze, I heard Alex calling my name. He burst in, his face a mask of panic, and swept me into his arms. I was a ragdoll, my soul sucked out of me. I let him numbly strip off my drenched clothes, carefully towel me dry, and wrap me tightly in layers of blankets. “Cici, what’s wrong? Are you not feeling well?” His words of concern were the final straw. The tears came, a hot, endless torrent. The moonlight streamed through the window, illuminating the photo of us on the nightstand. I had been studying in Germany. The day I arrived, my luggage and passport were stolen. The police were useless. When Alex found out, he jumped on the first flight out, and didn’t leave my side until everything was sorted. No matter when, no matter where, he had said, if you need me, I’ll be there. I asked myself again and again. How could it be him? The man who would tilt the umbrella so I wouldn’t get wet, who set all his passwords to our anniversary dates, who whispered my name in his sleep. How could he turn around and offer that same tenderness to someone else? Alex’s family had never liked me. So he worked himself to the bone, networking, taking on extra projects, humbling himself to secure deals. After he landed the last big contract, he held me all night, his voice hoarse with excitement. “Cici, they finally said yes. I can finally, finally make you my wife.” Tomorrow is my wedding. The invitations are sent. The venue is booked. The wedding dress Lena helped me pick is hanging in the closet. The jewelry Alex gave me is on the vanity. Everything is ready. My best friend. And the man I love most in the world. Together, they plunged a knife deep into my heart. I pushed him away and stood up, walking into the closet to find the torn nightgown that Lena had worn. “If you’re not feeling well, just rest. Tell me what you need, I’ll get it…” Alex followed me, stepping in front of me to block my path. But when he saw what I was holding, the words died in his throat. He was close. So close I could see his pupils contract, could see the flicker of panic in his eyes. I stared at his pale face, holding the nightgown up against my body. “Is it pretty?” He forced a strained smile, trying to act casual. “It’s beautiful. My Cici looks beautiful in anything.” “But… that one seems to be a little torn. We should just throw it out. I’ll buy you a new one.” “Yes. Torn. And dirty. Dirty things should be thrown out.” He froze, his hand hovering in the air, his body trembling so hard he couldn’t even look at me. I laughed, a soft, chilling sound. “Alex, why are you so nervous?” “Are you dirty too?” “No… I’m not!” His voice cracked, rising in pitch. He immediately realized his mistake and fell silent, then dropped to one knee in front of me. His face was filled with a sincerity I had never seen before. “Cici, is it because of the wedding tomorrow? Are you just nervous and overthinking things?” “We’ve worked so hard for this, for so long. How could I ever do anything to hurt you?” “When we first got together, I made a vow. If Alex Jennings ever does anything to wrong Cici Evans, may he be punished by losing her forever.” “You know me. Losing you… that would be worse than death.” We stayed like that, me standing, him kneeling, our eyes locked. The air was thick, silent. Until a ding broke the spell. Both our phones lit up with a new notification. Lena had updated her post. [What do I do? I really don’t want to hurt my best friend.] [But I can’t help it. I’m prettier than her, I have a better body, I’m more independent. Why should she get the good guy?] [If this gets a thousand likes, I’m going to him tonight and demanding an answer.] Less than ten minutes later, the post had over ten thousand likes. Almost everyone was cheering her on. [They’re not married yet, what’s the big deal?] [Go for it, girl! You have to fight for your own happiness! Don’t live with regrets.] [I’ll bet you $100 he chooses you tonight. I’ll even venmo one lucky commenter as a wedding gift for you!] I turned off my screen. And met Alex’s hesitant, uncertain gaze. He opened his mouth, his voice barely a whisper. “Cici, I… I have to go out for a bit. Something came up. I’ll be back soon, okay? Will you wait for me?” I nodded. I even gave him a small, faint smile. So he wouldn’t suspect a thing. The initial gut-wrenching pain had faded into a dull numbness, and now, it was all just… absurd. This man, who I once couldn’t bear to be apart from for a second, now made my skin crawl. Every moment in his presence felt suffocating. He left, looking back every few steps. The moment he was gone, I started packing. As I was booking my flight, Lena shared a new photo on her post. Two hands, fingers intertwined, resting on the bright red silk of our marital bed. [We’ve decided not to call off the wedding tomorrow. We’re worried my friend will get emotional and do something stupid. She can be a bit of a drama queen (lol).] [He promised that if we’re still in love a year from now, he’ll divorce her.] [But he doesn’t want me to feel slighted. So tonight, our wedding night, belongs to just the two of us.] [I’m so happy right now, hehe.] I remembered when we first got the new bed for the apartment. Lena had accidentally spilled a single drop of juice on the sheets. Alex had flown into a rage, immediately throwing them out and buying a new set. Everything in our new home, he’d said, has to be perfect. Not a single smudge. And now, he was in that bed with her.

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1 The golden boy they adopted said I stole his precious necklace. My sister, my own flesh and blood, went ballistic. She didn’t just drag me to court; she hired the best lawyer to make sure he won. I got three years. Branded a thief. Before they took me away, her lawyer tried to reason with her. “Just scare him a little, that’s enough,” he’d said. “A real prison sentence will ruin your brother’s life!” My sister’s face was a mask of stone. “Stealing isn’t a small thing. He needs to learn a hard lesson.” “As for his future?” she added, her voice unwavering. “I’ll be his safety net.” Three years later, I walked out of those gates. She was waiting, her eyes bloodshot as she reached for me. “You see your mistake now, don’t you?” she asked. “Come on. Let’s go home.” But I just took a quiet step back, letting her hand fall through empty air. I had a new sister now. I met her on the inside. She told me she believed me. … My sister, Pathy, froze, a flicker of disbelief in her eyes as I dodged her touch. But she didn’t pull her hand back. Instead, it shot out again, faster this time, her fingers wrapping around my wrist with a grip of iron. “Patrick, why are you avoiding me? Did someone hurt you in there?” Her voice was thick, like it was being pushed through cotton. I tried to pull my hand away, once, twice, but her grip was too tight. I gave up. “No,” I said, my voice flat. She let out a breath she’d been holding. “Good,” she whispered, squeezing my hand tighter. “That’s good. I read things online, that it’s… not a place for people. I’m so glad you weren’t bullied…” Watching the relief flood her face, the way her eyes grew redder by the second, a bitter, mocking laugh echoed in my head. The one who moved heaven and earth to put me in here… wasn’t that you, Pathy? What good was this concern now? She forced a bright smile, tugging me toward a sleek black car like a peace offering. “You always loved a good party, right? I’ve planned a huge welcome-home celebration for you.” “Come on,” she said again. “Let’s go home.” I glanced back at the prison, its grey walls stark against the sky. Nina. That was my new sister’s name. She’d been framed for financial fraud and had another month left on her sentence. We’d made a pact. In one month, I’d be back here, waiting at this very gate to pick her up. We were going to build a life together. But Dad’s old photos and his signet ring were still in that house. I needed them. So, I let Pathy lead me to the car. On the drive, she ran her hand over my shaved head, a gesture that was half a caress, half a warning. “Patrick, no more stealing. You understand? This was your lesson.” My fingers curled into a fist. For three years, I’d used the prison guards to pass her countless messages. I didn’t steal Ethan’s necklace. He framed me. She never believed it. So this time, I didn’t bother explaining. I just nodded like a good boy and played along. “I know.” A satisfied smile spread across her face. When she pushed open the front door, a party popper exploded with a loud BANG!, showering us in a blizzard of colored streamers. Ethan, the boy I hadn’t seen in three years, stood there holding the empty tube, his eyes crinkling with a joyful smile. “Welcome home, big brother!” He laid the affection on thick, his eyes practically overflowing with feigned adoration. He looked nothing like the boy whose face had been twisted with jealousy and venom when he’d accused me of theft. I ignored him, brushing past his shoulder as I walked inside. His smile faltered. He looked to Pathy, a wounded, awkward plea in his eyes. “Why is he ignoring me? Is he… is he still mad at me?” Pathy patted his head, her voice dripping with indulgence. “Patrick just got out, he’s probably not used to things yet. It’s not your fault.” I was already in my old bedroom, pulling open the drawer under my bed. Dad’s photos and his ring were still there. A wave of relief washed over me. Pathy appeared at the doorway. “Patrick,” she called softly, “come out and eat. You’re so thin I can see your ribs.” I slid the drawer shut and followed her out. At dinner, Ethan kept prodding, his questions laced with a false innocence. “So, what was it like in there, bro? I heard it’s really rough, is that true?” “It’s not rough,” I said, my voice monotone. “You read books and newspapers every day. After dinner, you go back to your dorm.” “Oh. Well, that sounds alright, then. Not as bad as I imagined.” A shadow of disappointment flickered across his face. Pathy placed a peeled shrimp on my plate. “Now that you’re out, let’s not talk about that place anymore,” she said with a light laugh. “Just think of it as an experience. Put it behind you.” Ethan’s eyes darkened, and he fell silent. A moment later, as if remembering something, he jumped up and ran to his room. He came back with a small, exquisitely wrapped box and held it out to me. “This is for you, big brother. A welcome home present!” I didn’t take it. I just kept eating. He didn’t seem to mind. With a grin, he opened the box himself. A luxury watch lay nestled on a velvet cushion, its face gleaming under the dining room lights. I saw it, and my pupils shrank to pinpricks. The blood in my veins turned to ice. It felt like I’d been plunged into a frozen lake. Ethan pushed the box closer, his face twisting into a grotesque, chilling grin. “What’s wrong, brother? Isn’t this your favorite watch? You loved it so much you had to steal it.” “Now I’m giving it to you,” he hissed, his voice a venomous whisper. “Aren’t you happy?” That watch. The “pearl necklace” was a lie to the press. It had been a watch. A gift from Pathy to Ethan. And it was the very reason I’d spent three years behind bars. 2 After Dad died on the battlefield, Mom took his survivor benefits and vanished, leaving me and Pathy to fend for ourselves. She dropped out of high school, working God knows how many dead-end jobs before she finally scraped together enough to start her own company. The moment she made real money, she adopted Ethan, another boy who’d lost his father, and brought him into our home. I was against it from the start, but Pathy pleaded with me. “Ethan is just as lost as we were, Patrick. At least you have me. He has nothing.” “Just be generous,” she’d said. “It’s only one more plate at the table.” But it was never just one more plate. She treated him better than she’d ever treated me. It was like she was trying to raise a brother all over again, showering him with all the things she couldn’t give me when we were poor. Toys, designer clothes, luxury watches. Anything Ethan wanted, he got. In just two years, she’d spent millions on him. That was the money she bled for. How many nights had she been forced to go to client dinners, drinking until she was sick, only to come back to the table and drink more? I hated seeing her waste her hard-earned money like that. I was always telling her to cut back. And for that, Ethan hated me. He hid the watch under my pillow and then ran to Pathy, crying his eyes out, telling her I’d stolen it. Pathy exploded. She made me kneel in the pouring rain, demanding I confess. “How could Dad’s son be a thief? He was a soldier! I’ve built my life on honesty!” she’d screamed, her voice raw with rage. “Who are you learning this from? That mother who took the money and ran?” “Have I ever let you go hungry? Have you ever needed anything? Why would you steal?” I was burning up with a fever, crying, swearing I didn’t do it, but she wouldn’t listen. The next day, she hired the best lawyer in the city and took me to court. My own sister. Standing on the witness stand, fighting for Ethan, testifying against me. The verdict was three years. I was officially a thief. Before the sentencing, friends, family, even her own lawyer, begged her not to go through with it. I was her brother. Three years in prison would destroy my future. But she was relentless. She was willing to push everyone away to see me locked up. “Patrick won’t be destroyed,” she’d insisted. “I work this hard for him. Even if he is ruined, I can support him for the rest of his life.” “But he stole,” she’d said, her voice like ice. “He has to learn his lesson.” Every month for three years, she came to visit me. Every month, she’d ask if I was ready to admit I was wrong. And every time, I refused to see her. I’d just have the guard pass on the same message. “I didn’t steal anything.” After she’d leave, the guard would shake his head with a sigh. “Your sister doesn’t believe you, kid.” Disappointment, repeated over and over, slowly curdled into a cold, hard despair. I felt like the entire world had abandoned me. I used to have Pathy’s love, at least. Now, I had nothing. Seeing that watch again, something inside me snapped. I swept my arm across the table, sending the box flying. It hit the floor with a loud crack. Ethan stared, stunned into silence. Pathy’s face instantly darkened. “Ethan was being kind, giving you a gift! He’s forgiven you, and this is how you act?” I sat there, trembling, my face pale as a ghost. She grabbed my arm, trying to haul me to my feet. “You think because you’re out you can throw a tantrum? Pick up that watch and apologize to Ethan, now!” Apologize? Never. I shoved her away, hard, and bolted out the door. The night air was bitingly cold, but it was nothing compared to the storm of grief and betrayal churning in my chest. I never should have come back. If it wasn’t for Dad’s things, I wouldn’t have set foot in this house. I was done being framed. I was done being hurt. Pathy caught up to me in seconds, her fingers digging into my wrist. Her brows were knitted together in a tight, angry line. “Where do you think you’re going? You spent three years in prison and you still haven’t learned to control your temper?” I couldn’t take it anymore. I ripped my arm from her grasp, my eyes burning with unshed tears. “That watch… was that a peace offering or a poisoned arrow, Pathy? Can you honestly not see the difference?” “I’m your brother!” I yelled, my voice cracking. “You already sent me to hell once, what more do you want from me?” “I’m doing this for your own good!” she shot back, her voice turning cold. “If you do the crime, you do the time. How else are you going to learn? Am I supposed to just stand by and watch you throw your life away?” Her words slammed into my heart like a sledgehammer, leaving a gaping hole. When had I ever stolen anything? What reason could I possibly have to steal a watch from Ethan? Why couldn’t she just think for one damn second? Why wouldn’t she ever, ever believe me? Tears of frustration finally spilled over, hot against my cold cheeks. The despair of the last three years crashed over me like a tidal wave. I gave up trying to explain. She looked at my shaved head, and her voice softened, as if admitting defeat. “Patrick, everything I do, I do it with you in mind. Yes, you spent three years in jail, but I’ve paved the way for you.” “My company… it’s all going to be yours one day. This was just a small punishment. It’s nothing in the long run.” “Come home with me,” she pleaded. “Stop running away.” She took my hand again, leading me back toward the house. I followed numbly, the fight gone out of me. I didn’t say another word. When we walked back in, Ethan’s eyes widened in surprise. He clearly hadn’t expected Pathy to bring me back after all that. I just felt drained, exhausted to my very soul. I retreated to my bedroom and didn’t come out. Late that night, my door creaked open. It was Ethan. My eyes snapped open in the darkness, but I stayed perfectly still. He thought I was asleep. I watched him feel around under my pillow, his movements furtive as he slipped something beneath it. I didn’t move. I didn’t say a word. He was so predictable, pulling the same trick the day I got back. This time, I wanted to see. I had to know if Pathy would finally choose to believe me. The next morning, just as I expected, he was in the living room, crying to Pathy that I had stolen his new watch—the replacement for the one I’d supposedly taken before. “Pathy, if he liked it, he just had to ask! I even offered him the old one yesterday, and he threw it on the floor!” he wailed. “Is he just… a kleptomaniac?” Pathy’s face was a thundercloud as she stared at me. “You just can’t help yourself, can you?” My heart plummeted into a black abyss. Her words were a final, brutal sword stroke, severing the last thread of family that tied us together. A humorless smile twisted my lips. “No,” I said. “I guess I can’t.” CRACK! The sound of her hand connecting with my cheek echoed in the silent room. The anger and disappointment in her eyes were about to spill over. “How could I have a brother like you!” I was silent for a moment, my cheek stinging. Then, I let out a cold, hollow laugh. “I don’t know,” I said, my voice dripping with ice. “How could I have a sister like you?” “You—!” She pointed a trembling finger at me, too furious to speak. Before her second slap could land, I dropped to my knees. I bowed my head to the floor, one final gesture. “Thank you for raising me after you dropped out of school,” I said, my voice empty. “From now on, I don’t have a sister.” With that, I stood up, pulled the box with Dad’s things from under the bed, and turned to leave. Her face was grim as she snatched the box from my hands. “These were Dad’s. You have no right to take them!” Fine. Let her have them. I just nodded, accepting my fate, and walked toward the door. “You’re an ex-con!” she yelled at my back, her voice tight with rage. “What can you do without me? Starve?” I didn’t stop. I didn’t even slow down. “Don’t worry about me.” 3 I left the house and sat on a bench in the neighborhood park all day. This time, Pathy didn’t come after me. She must have finally washed her hands of me, disgusted and disappointed beyond repair. I had no money, so I started looking for a job, any job that offered food and board. But the moment they heard I’d been in prison, the answer was always no. My only option was a construction site. The foreman looked me up and down, his brow furrowed. “You’re all skin and bones. This is hard labor. You sure you can handle it?” I put on my most eager smile. “Give me a shot, sir. I might be thin, but I’m stronger than I look.” He was still hesitant, but I didn’t wait for permission. I grabbed a wheelbarrow and started working, moving with a speed and efficiency that surprised him. Finally, he nodded. “Alright, you’re on. Food and a bunk are included. Hundred bucks a day.” “One thing, though,” he added. “This is a short-term project. We’ll be done in a month.” I beamed. A month was perfect. By then, Nina would be out, and I’d have a place to go. I worked on that site for over three weeks. When Pathy found me, she was so shocked she almost didn’t recognize me. My hair had grown out into a messy, unkempt mop. My clothes were caked in a permanent layer of dust that puffed off me with every step. She stood at a distance, just watching, her eyes slowly turning red. Finally, she ran over and grabbed my wrist. “What are you doing here? Patrick, do you have any idea how long I’ve been looking for you?” “Come on, let’s go home. You can’t be doing this kind of work!” I shook her off and hefted a stack of bricks onto my shoulder, pretending I didn’t know her. Her lips tightened into a thin line. She didn’t try to persuade me again. Instead, she turned and marched over to the foreman. I couldn’t hear what she said. A few minutes later, the foreman walked over, his face grim. “Patrick, why didn’t you tell me you did time for theft? We can’t have thieves on this site. You’re fired.” “And don’t expect any pay,” he grunted. “Get lost.” Panic seized me. “Please, sir, give me a chance,” I begged. “I was framed, I swear. I’ve never stolen anything in my life. I won’t cause any trouble!” “That’s your sister, right?” he sneered, jerking his head toward Pathy. “You expect me to believe she’d lie about that?” “We don’t hire dishonest people. Now beat it!” he barked, giving me a hard shove. I stumbled backward, losing my balance, and fell straight into Pathy’s arms. She held me steady. A triumphant smile played on her lips as she pressed a phone into my hand. “See? You can’t survive anywhere else. The only place for you is with me.” “Patrick, we’re family. The path I’ve made for you is the only one that works.” She reached up and ruffled my messy hair, not even flinching at the dust that came off on her hand. Her smile was genuine now as she took my arm. “Come on. Let’s go home. And don’t you ever make me look for you again.” I didn’t move. She turned, confused by my resistance. Her eyes met mine, and she saw the absolute, glacial coldness there. “Pathy,” I said, my voice dangerously quiet. “What do I have to do for you to just let me go?” She didn’t seem to grasp that she’d done anything wrong. Her smile vanished. “What are you talking about, ‘let you go’? Haven’t I been good to you?” “I’ve spent the last three weeks searching for you! I’ve ignored my company, do you know how much money I’ve lost?” Without another word, she yanked me toward her car. I was bundled inside, taken back to that house one more time. On the way, she took a call, and after dropping me off, she raced to her office, ordering Ethan to make sure I didn’t run off again. The moment she was gone, Ethan’s face transformed. “You idiot!” he sneered. “I can’t believe she brought you back again. After all that, she still cares about you?” I fought the urge to punch him, my voice tight with a rage I’d held in for three years. “Why? Why did you frame me? I was always decent to you, wasn’t I?” He let out a cold laugh, his eyes filled with pure malice. “Because you told Pathy to stop spending money on me.” “She made it perfectly clear years ago. The company goes to you. Not me.” “You have this amazing sister to fall back on, and you couldn’t even stand to see her spend a little money on me,” he spat. “Why should you have everything?” My hands clenched into fists. “Do you have any idea how she earned that money? She never went to college. The executives at her company look down on her. She has to work twice as hard just to stay afloat.” “Those old sharks force her into business dinners, and she has to drink until she’s puking blood! And you? You ask for millions like it’s nothing. She’s my sister, of course I care! What’s wrong with asking her to spend less on you?” “So what? It’s not like she’s earning it for me,” Ethan scoffed, admiring his expensive sneakers. “If she drinks herself to death, I still get nothing. The only way I get a piece of the pie is if you’re out of the picture.” I stared at him, a chill spreading through my entire body. I always thought he framed me because he wanted Pathy all to himself. I never imagined it was only ever about the money. “You’re a real snake,” I bit out, heading for my room. He laughed behind me. “I framed you once, I can do it again. And again.” “Just wait, Patrick,” he called out. “I’ll get you thrown out of here for good!”

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1 When the story ended, I, the designated villainess, lost everything. My own brother had me committed to a psychiatric hospital. My fate was to be tormented until I died. But I refused to let them control even the way I died. At the fairytale wedding of the story’s beloved heroine, in front of all the glittering guests, I threw myself into the sea. And just like that, Port Sterling lost its most outrageously wicked heiress. In her place, a small-time food vendor appeared on the streets of Riverbend, hawking braised meats from a cart. Until three years later, when a man stopped in front of my stall. He asked me if I wanted to go back and burn it all to the ground. … I kept my head down, my knife moving deftly as I sliced beef on the cutting board. An old regular, one of my best customers, kept shooting glances at the man standing silently before my cart. Finally, his curiosity got the better of him and he leaned in. “Bea,” he whispered, “who’s this guy? You know friends this rich, why are you out here selling braised pork knuckles?” My knife came down with a final, clean chop. I lifted my head, my gaze skipping over the old man and landing on Caleb Thorne, my voice even. “Oh, him?” “He used to be one of our house staff.” The old man let out a short, barking laugh, as if I’d told the funniest joke he’d ever heard. “Get outta here! The way you pinch every penny, you? A high-society lady?” “A real heiress wouldn’t last a day out here,” he said, picking up his bag with a grin. “She’d be crying for her daddy by lunchtime.” He walked away, still chuckling. I pulled off my disposable gloves and smiled too. He was right. I was Bea, the woman who’d been selling braised meats on this street for two years. Not Beatrice Parish, the arrogant, couture-clad heiress of Port Sterling. My smile faded. I put my hands on my hips and called out to the lingering customers. “Alright, show’s over, folks! Come and get it! Last three pork knuckles for the day! When they’re gone, I’m gone!” I sold the last one, packed it up, and watched the crowd disperse. Only then did a voice, tight with emotion, break the silence. “Beatrice.” “Are you going to hide in this place and sling food for the rest of your life?” I didn’t turn around. I just kept scrubbing the heavy pot under the faucet, the scouring pad scraping against the metal. He was quiet for a moment. When he spoke again, his voice was trembling. “Bea, your brother… Larry is looking for you, too. If you want to go back, I’ll help you this time. I swear it.” I shut off the water. The sudden silence was deafening. “Help me?” I turned, hoisting the clean pot onto the cart with a loud clang. “Caleb, is there anything left on me that you could possibly want?” He’d said he would help me once before. The result was him helping my brother drive the final, most vicious knife into my back. 2 Three years ago, after the heroine, Clara, got into a minor car accident, my brother and my childhood sweetheart jointly cornered me, leaving me with no way out. My father, on his deathbed, secretly pressed a card and a small USB drive into my hand. “Beatrice, go,” he’d rasped. “Go now! To Switzerland. There’s enough money there for you to live comfortably for the rest of your life… Don’t ever come back!” It was my only escape route in a world that had turned against me. I told no one. I only called Caleb. The one person I thought would leave a window open for me, even if the rest of the world wanted me dead. When I handed him the plane ticket, I didn’t notice the conflict warring in his eyes. It wasn’t until my limbs grew weak and my vision blurred that a cold dread washed over me. In the last second before I lost consciousness, I saw him pull the USB drive from my pocket. “Bea,” he’d said, his voice devoid of all warmth. “People have to pay for their mistakes.” When I woke up, I was in a psychiatric hospital. Later, on a newspaper I was allowed to read once a week, I saw the engagement announcement for Clara and Victor. The article gushed about the bride’s staggering dowry, a fortune that would secure her place in high society. The amount they quoted was, to the dollar, the exact sum my father had left for me. How absurdly tragic. My father’s last act of love for me had become the glittering centerpiece of her wedding. And now, the architect of my ruin was standing before me, his voice choked with emotion. “Bea, why do you have to be so stubborn!” “Three years ago, you threw yourself into the sea right in front of us! Have you ever thought about how the people you left behind have been living?!” “Or are you so unafraid of death that you’re somehow afraid to go back with me?” I gave him a long, cool look. His eyes were red with frustration. I thought for a moment. “I’ll apologize to Clara,” I said. Caleb, his eyes still fixed on me, flinched. “What?” I smiled. “For ruining her wedding three years ago. I sincerely regret it. But please, assure her that her brilliant, happy life will no longer be troubled by my existence.” “And you can rest easy, too. I swear on my father’s grave, I will never, ever interfere with your perfect little happy ending.” So please, just leave me alone. Don’t stand here with your false sincerity, talking about taking me back to reclaim what’s mine. He was just mad that I’d ruined the wedding of his precious goddess, Clara, and this was his new, twisted way of messing with me. Caleb stood frozen, staring at me, his mouth opening and closing but no words coming out. I took the opportunity to hop on my tricycle cart and pedal away as fast as I could. In the small rearview mirror, I saw him clutch his chest and slowly sink to his knees, his face as white as a sheet. I pushed harder on the pedals. After all, I didn’t have any money for him to scam out of me this time. 3 I had no idea what had gone wrong with Clara and her little fan club. But I, the villainess, had survived. And Caleb, the original arch-villain, had somehow switched sides to join the heroes. The entire plot must have become a complete mess. Sure enough, the day after Caleb showed up, my brother, Larry, appeared downstairs from my apartment. When I came down, he was holding the tarp covering my tricycle between two fingers, as if touching something foul. The sight of my shabby little cart seemed to physically revolt him; his knuckles were white. He heard my footsteps and stiffened before slowly turning around. The moment he saw me, his eyes widened in shock. He scanned me from head to toe, over and over again. I stood there, letting him take in my worn clothes, my cheap shoes, my entire pathetic existence. After a long moment, he looked away, unable to meet my eyes. His voice was hoarse. “You really are alive…” “Thanks to you,” I replied calmly. “Sorry to disappoint you by not dying in that asylum.” My words hit their mark. His chest heaved. “Do you have to talk to me like this?” “I’m… I’m your brother, Bea…” Brother. I hadn’t used that word in a long, long time. When we were kids, I followed Larry around like a little shadow, constantly chirping his name. He loved it, always swinging me up onto his shoulders and taking me out to play. Back then, he was the brother I loved and trusted most in the world. That’s why, when I “awakened” at eighteen and realized he was the story’s devoted second male lead, destined to lock me away, I ran to him in a panic. He’d just laughed and tapped my forehead, telling me I’d been reading too many stupid novels. He said he would abandon himself before he ever abandoned me. I believed him. But then Clara appeared. And Larry forgot his promise. Suddenly, I was spoiled. I was unreasonable. A dress I loved? He’d say it would look purer on Clara. A concert I wanted to go to? Clara was afraid of loud noises. I told him again and again that I had never, ever done anything to hurt Clara, but he never once believed me. He would just hold her close and look at me with an expression so foreign it made me tremble. “Beatrice, all the disgusting things you do… don’t you feel any shame?” “I don’t have a sister like you. Get out!” In that moment, I knew. The brother who had loved me was gone forever. All that was left was the character from the story, the man who only had eyes for the heroine. And now this man was standing here, telling me he was my brother. What kind of brother was he? The thought slipped out. I actually asked him. I can’t describe the way his composure shattered. He looked at me, his face a mask of pain. “Bea, three years ago, I never thought you would actually try to die. I was too—” “Is something wrong with Clara again?” I cut him off. Larry stared at me blankly for a few seconds. “What?” For both of them to show up out of the blue, acting like this… the only reason I could think of was Clara. I chose my words carefully, my guard up. “Was she kidnapped again? Or hit by another car?” “You don’t have to come all this way to lecture me. Whatever happened to her has nothing to do with me.” “I’m at the East Gate Market every afternoon and evening. I haven’t missed a single day. Go ask the other vendors if you don’t believe me.” “Besides,” I added, gesturing to myself, “look at me. I obviously don’t have the money to hire a hitman. So whatever happened to Clara, it wasn’t me.” I said it all in one calm, even breath. Larry just stood there, completely still. I frowned. “Is there anything else?” He snapped out of his trance, shaking his head. “No, it’s not because of Clara.” “I just… I just heard you were alive—” “Oh, so this is a preemptive strike? Worried I’ll come back for revenge?” “Yes, Caleb came to see me yesterday. Said he’d help me ‘burn it all down.’ But I know he was just messing with me. I turned him down.” “You can ask the market vendors—” “No!” Larry’s voice cracked. “Bea, I just came to see my sister!” “I really… I just wanted to see my sister…” The silence that followed was heavy, suffocating. Then, I let out a snort of laughter. The look on Larry’s face became even more frantic, more pathetic. “Sorry,” I said, waving a hand. “It was just… a really funny joke.” I met his bloodshot eyes again. “Looking at you now, anyone who didn’t know better would think you were the one who got locked in an asylum three years ago.” Larry tried to smile, to mirror my casual posture. But the expression he managed was uglier than crying. His lips twitched, and he finally bowed his head, unable to look at me any longer. “Bea, come home.” “Just… for Dad’s sake.” I froze, my hand on the cart. Larry’s voice was thick with emotion. “When Dad was dying… he was holding my hand, and the only name he said was yours.” “He wouldn’t close his eyes. He begged me to protect you… he just kept begging me…” “I—” “Shut up!” “Just shut your mouth!” I lost control. I grabbed whatever was on my cart and started hurling it at him. He didn’t move, didn’t even try to dodge as a jar of spices struck his forehead, leaving a dark red welt. “You have no right to talk about my father!” “Larry, you’re a monster! An animal!” “I begged you! I got on my knees and begged you!” “I said I was wrong, that you could kill me, just let me out to see him one last time!” “I bashed my head on the floor until it was covered in blood! But you still said no! You said if Dad knew what I’d done, the shock would kill him!” But all along, when I thought the entire world had abandoned me, my father was thinking of me in his final moments. I clawed at my own hair, a wave of agony washing over me. The tears I never shed—not when they gave me electroshock, not when they strapped me down and forced pills down my throat—came pouring out now. Larry remained crouched on the ground, his shoulders shaking violently, his voice shattered. “I was possessed… Clara said if you got out, you’d try to take her down with you… that you’d ruin Dad’s reputation… I believed her… God, I actually believed her…” “So you let me miss his last moments?” I rushed at him, grabbing the collar of his shirt, forcing him to look into my tear-filled eyes. “You let me hear the news of his death in a psychiatric ward! You wouldn’t even let me go to his funeral!” “Larry, what kind of brother are you!” “I’m begging you, all of you! Just have some mercy! I don’t have a father, I don’t have a brother! I have nothing left! I can’t hurt Clara anymore!” “So why are you showing up in my life again?!” “I was lucky not to die three years ago! Do I have to actually die in front of you before you’ll finally be satisfied?!” Larry let me shake him, tears streaming down his face. “I know… I know you hate me…” “Bea, come back to the family. I’ll give everything back to you…” “I’ll atone for what I did. I’ll listen to Dad. I’ll protect you…” I slapped him. A vicious, resounding crack that echoed in the quiet alley. His head snapped to the side, a red handprint already blooming on his cheek. “My brother,” I said, my voice dead, “died a long time ago.” My quiet life was shattered. Caleb and Larry were like a curse, bringing nothing but trouble. I was taken from my own apartment. When I came to, I was tied to a pillar on a beach. Tied to another pillar not far from me was Clara. Seeing I was awake, she gave me a brilliant smile. “Beatrice. I can’t believe you’re still alive.” “But that’s okay. Since you didn’t die then, we can play a little game now.” “Right about now, your brother, your childhood sweetheart, and your little lapdog should all be getting a text message saying we’ve been kidnapped together.” “But very soon, they’ll also receive ‘proof’ that you were the one who orchestrated my kidnapping.” “So, let’s guess. This time, who do you think will win?” “The loser,” she said, her smile widening, “gets to die. How does that sound?” The icy seawater washed over my ankles, sending a violent shiver through my body. I knew I would lose. In any contest against Clara, I was always the loser. But I couldn’t die! Dad’s last wish was for me to live. I couldn’t die. As I struggled against the ropes, three cars screeched to a halt on the beach. The doors flew open almost simultaneously. Larry was the first one out. His face was chalk-white, and he was so frantic he’d lost a shoe. His panicked gaze darted between me and Clara. Right behind him were Caleb and the story’s male lead, Victor. They all looked equally terrified. Clara immediately began to sob. “Save Bea first,” she cried weakly. “Don’t worry about me…” I said nothing, twisting my wrists against the coarse rope. The tide was coming in fast, the saltwater already up to our chests. The raw, chafed skin on my wrists screamed in agony. But I couldn’t stop. I wasn’t the heroine. No one was coming to save me. But in the next second: “Save Bea!” “Get Bea first!”

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I thought my parents gave me all their love. They decorated a princess room for me, overflowing with countless Barbies. They even splurged on renovating the bathroom just to put in a big bathtub for me, all because I loved my baths. They always told my little brother, Leo, that his job was to protect me for his entire life. But that all changed after I gave him a bubble bath, and he accidentally choked on a bit of water. My mom went ballistic. Her fingers dug into my neck, her voice a furious hiss. “We thought if we were good to you, you’d learn to love your brother! We never imagined you were such an ungrateful little monster, trying to drown him!” I shook my head frantically, but she just dragged me over to the front-loading washing machine and shoved me inside. “You love baths so much, right? Fine! You can wash to your heart’s content!” My parents rushed out the door with Leo, but in their panic, one of them must have bumped the start button. Water began to pour in, but I couldn’t climb out. Tangled with the laundry, I forced my eyes open and saw them rushing back in. I don’t want a bath anymore. Mom, Dad, can you please not be angry anymore? 1 The washing machine began to hum, a low, menacing rumble. I pounded on the thick glass door, my small fists making dull thuds. “Daddy, Mommy, it’s on! Let me out!” Water streamed in from the pipes, cold and fast. I curled into a ball, but it rose quickly, already reaching my chest. I sputtered, swallowing a mouthful. On the other side of the glass, my parents were pacing, cradling my coughing little brother. “Mommy, Daddy, I choked too!” I tried to shout, my voice a muffled plea. If only one of them would just turn around. One glance was all it would take to save me. I threw all my weight against the door, but it wouldn’t budge. I remembered them talking about it once—how they’d bought this specific model with a child lock, just in case I got big enough to be mischievous and climb inside. Once it was locked, it was locked for good. The drum began to twitch, then slowly turn. The icy touch of the metal walls pressed against my skin. Suddenly, the whole world jolted and then began to spin. An irresistible force threw me up, slammed me down, and threw me up again. My body crashed against the hard drum with a sickening thud. I tried to scream for help, but the moment I opened my mouth, soapy, sweet-smelling water flooded my mouth and nose. Dad, Mom… Dizziness washed over me, a crushing weight on my chest. I fought to keep my eyes open, desperate for one last look at them. I saw them, a blur of motion, hastily pulling on their jackets. “I am so disappointed in Penny,” my mom’s voice cut through the roar. “If she’d do this to her brother while we’re right here, who knows what she does in private. She needs to learn a real lesson this time.” “What do we do, honey?” Dad sounded panicked. “Leo’s been coughing forever, his face is turning red.” “The hospital. We’re going to the hospital, now!” The machine’s first spin cycle paused. The suffocating water slowly drained away, but my relief was short-lived as a new gush began to pour in. Terrified, I used every last bit of my strength to bang on the glass. “Daddy, Mommy, please save me! Penny can’t hold on!” My mom, who was putting on her shoes, froze. She walked towards me! “Mommy, help me,” I whimpered, a flicker of hope igniting in my chest. I knew it. She was just trying to scare me. I’d never, ever hurt Leo again, not even by accident. She reached out a hand, but not for the door handle. She stood a few feet away, her face a mask of disappointment as she pointed a finger at me. “You still don’t think you’re wrong, do you? Trying to break the machine to show me you’re angry? Penny, your brother is two years old! The first word he learned was ‘sis,’ and this is how you treat him?” “You can stay in there and think about what you’ve done. We’ve spoiled you rotten, and that’s how you became so entitled.” I cried and shook my head, feeling the water rising up my back again. My head was still spinning from the first cycle. I weakly slapped the glass to get her attention, but it only fueled her rage. She kicked the machine, the metal frame vibrating from the impact. “You dare talk back to me?!” No, no, Mommy! The water will fill the whole thing! I can’t survive that! I started praying for the water to rise faster, so she’d see the danger and let me out. A soft beep echoed, and I braced myself, pushing against the walls with my arms and legs. Just hold on. As soon as she opens the door, I’ll be safe. But then, the drum began to turn again, and my dad walked over, holding Leo. “Honey, stop wasting time being angry with Penny. We need to get to the hospital.” No… I watched in horror as my mom turned her back on me and walked away. The front door slammed shut. The next second, the machine roared to life. The world spun, tossing me back and forth, a discarded rag in a violent storm. 2 When I opened my eyes again, I was floating in mid-air. I thought I’d been saved. My first instinct was to go find Mom and Dad. But I didn’t want to make them angry again, so I quietly went to my room and curled up amongst my Barbies, drifting off to sleep. I don’t know how long I was asleep, but I woke to the sound of the front door opening. Mom and Dad were back, carrying Leo. In Dad’s other hand was a huge, ride-on electric toy car. “Thank God Leo’s okay,” Dad said with a sigh of relief. “Otherwise, Penny would have been in serious trouble.” “Our little boy went through a lot,” Mom said, deliberately raising her voice and glancing towards the laundry room. “This toy car is to make up for it! From now on, whoever gets hurt gets a present. The one who does the hurting gets put in time-out!” They exchanged a look, then tilted their heads, listening for a sound from the washing machine. After a long moment of silence, they both frowned and sneered. “See? Still sulking,” Mom scoffed. “If she wants to stay in there, let her. It’s not like the machine is running. She’s not going to die.” I floated back and forth in front of them. Mommy, Daddy, I’m already out! Can’t you see me? Penny’s not sulking. Please don’t say that about me. I kept trying to talk to them, but it was like I was invisible. Their eyes passed right through me. I tried to touch them, but my hand phased straight through their bodies. It was only then that I realized the horrible truth. I think I died in the washing machine. I drifted over and peered through the glass door. A small figure was curled up inside, twisted into a strange, unnatural position. Was that me? I turned back to see my parents cooing over Leo. Oh well. This was my punishment. At least this way, I wouldn’t have to wash Leo’s dirty diapers anymore. They hadn’t spent any real time with me since he was born. Now, maybe I could be with them all the time. I swallowed the heavy lump in my throat and forced a smile. For dinner, Dad made my favorite: BBQ ribs. After feeding Leo, they sat at the table, their faces grim, and glanced towards the laundry room again. Dad spoke first. “Penny, come out and eat.” 3 The only reply was the soft gurgle from Leo. Mom slammed her bowl down on the table, her patience gone. “Fine, don’t eat! Who spoiled you into this brat? You screw up and then you throw a tantrum? Don’t eat now, don’t eat ever!” “I might as well have given birth to a bad seed,” she muttered. “Everyone says it’s impossible to treat two kids equally. We thought if we were extra nice to you, you’d be nice to your brother. Instead, it just made you an arrogant, ungrateful brat.” “Just leave her,” Dad said. “It’s not comfortable in there. She’s so delicate, she won’t last long. She’s probably already snuck back to her room.” I floated nearby, listening, a stinging sensation building behind my eyes. Mommy, I really didn’t mean it. I was just trying to help you give Leo a bath. They ignored me. They ate most of the ribs, and my mom took the leftovers outside to feed a stray dog. “I’d get more gratitude from a dog than from her,” she said bitterly. I didn’t dare follow them anymore. I curled up in my room, a lonely ghost. My parents were laughing as they played with Leo. They read him a picture book, and Mom’s voice was so gentle—a gentleness I hadn’t heard directed at me in a very long time. I listened until I fell asleep, only to be woken by my mother’s shout. “Penny, your brother’s looking for you again! Get out here and play with him!” I stared at my closed bedroom door. But Mommy, I’m dead. I can’t help you, even if I want to. If you’d just open the washing machine door, just for a second, you’d see that I’m gone. “Penny! Have you had enough of this? My patience with you has reached its limit!” After a moment of silence in the living room, my bedroom door was thrown open. My mom stormed in, Dad right behind her. They froze when they saw the empty room. Dad looked around, even checking under the bed. “Where’s Penny?” I thought they’d be worried. I thought they’d finally run to the washing machine. But Mom’s face just grew colder. “She’s small, but she’s full of tricks. Where else could she be? She must have snuck out and run to Grandma’s to tattle on us while we were gone!” “Who spoiled her into this monster? She wants to play games with me? Fine! Let’s play!” Mom spun around and marched toward my collection of Barbie dolls. She grabbed a pair of scissors and started snipping off their hair, then their heads. She snapped off their arms and legs, throwing the mangled pieces on the floor and stomping on them with her heel. I cried, trying to push her away, but it was useless. Mommy, I’m not throwing a tantrum. I want to be with you, but I can’t. I’m trapped in that machine forever. Dad sighed. “Forget it. We don’t have time for this now. If she’s at your mom’s place, it gives us a break anyway. I’ll go do Leo’s laundry.” Laundry? I followed him. He grabbed a small pile of clothes and walked toward the washing machine. My non-existent heart started to pound. I was terrified of them seeing the gruesome scene inside, but also desperate for them to find me. Once Dad saw me, Mom would have to believe I wasn’t just throwing a fit. I know it was pointless, but I stretched out my little ghostly hands and tried to cover his eyes. But before he could bend down and open the door, Mom called out. “You can’t put baby clothes in the washing machine! Wash them by hand!” Dejected, I lowered my hands and glanced back at the machine. In the sealed, warm environment, my body… I think it was starting to swell. A faint, unpleasant smell was beginning to seep out. I had been gone for two full days. It wasn’t until the evening of the second day that Dad finally nudged Mom to call my grandma. “Why don’t you call your mom and ask if Penny is behaving over there? Make sure she’s okay.” Mom reluctantly picked up her phone, grumbling as she dialed. “She’s a big girl, what could happen to her? Honestly, sometimes I look at her and I just get so angry. I’d rather have no daughter than one so thoughtless. It would have been better if she just died.” I looked down, picking at my fingers, too sad to speak. But Mommy, your wish came true. When the call connected, Mom asked bluntly, “Mom, is Penny at your house? Is she giving you any trouble?” On the other end, Grandma’s voice boomed. “What’d you say?” 4 I thought she was asking in shock, but her next words dashed my hopes. “I couldn’t hear you! Speak up!” The light in my eyes dimmed again. Just as Mom was about to speak, Leo started crying. The answer that was on the tip of her tongue was lost forever. “Oh, never mind, never mind. I have to go check on the baby.” For the next few days, my parents didn’t mention me again. Dad went to work every day like clockwork. But Leo suddenly started refusing his bottle and spitting up his food. Worried sick, Mom took him to several hospitals, but nothing worked. Then, she heard from a friend, Aunt Jenna, about a renowned traditional doctor. She called Aunt Jenna, her voice dripping with false sweetness. “Oh, Jenna, hi! Your son Kyle hasn’t come over to play with my Penny in ages. I’ll send Penny over in a few days to keep him company.” A chill ran down my spine. I had played with Aunt Jenna’s son before. He was a bully. He once hit me over the head with a chair. Another time, he made me watch as he strangled a newborn kitten. The nightmares haunted me for a month. My parents had strictly forbidden me from ever seeing Kyle again. Mom said he was trouble, that he’d even gouged another kid’s eye once. Aunt Jenna laughed coldly on the phone. “I thought Penny didn’t like playing with my son.” Mom lowered her voice, sounding almost desperate. “Jenna, I heard you know a really good doctor. My son hasn’t been eating lately. Do you think you could take me to see him sometime? I could drop Penny off at your place while we go. The kids can keep each other company.” My heart sank. To find a doctor for Leo, my mom was willing to just throw me to the wolves. I wanted to leave this house, but I couldn’t. It was as if I was tethered to my parents. I started to hope, to pray, that someone, anyone, would find me. Then one day, just as Mom and Dad were about to leave with Leo, both sets of my grandparents showed up. They were all carrying presents. The wrapping paper was pink and sparkly. Were they for me? A little spark of excitement lit up inside me, but my mom’s brow furrowed when she saw them. “Mom, Dad, how many times have I told you? You have to be fair! These gifts are all for Penny. What about my son?” she complained. “He might be young, but he’s not stupid. This will hurt his feelings. When you have two kids, you can’t play favorites.” My paternal grandma frowned and brought in a strawberry cake from the hallway, her expression annoyed. “How can you, his own mother, forget your daughter’s birthday? Of course we’re bringing her presents.” A wave of warmth finally washed over me. My grandparents all remembered my birthday. I was still a loved child. The strawberry cake smelled so sweet, my absolute favorite. I circled it, nuzzling my cheek against my grandma’s arm. Grandma looked around the apartment. “Where’s Penny?” My parents froze, their faces flashing with embarrassment before they turned to my maternal grandma. “Yeah, Mom, we were just about to come to your place to pick her up,” Dad said quickly. “Since you were coming for her birthday, why didn’t you bring her with you?” Mom added. My maternal grandparents frowned deeply. “When did you ever bring her to our house? You two must be losing your minds from stress.” With that, all four of them went to check my room. “Penny? Grandma’s sweet girl, come on out! Look what Grandma got for your birthday!” My parents stood stiffly in the doorway, their bodies rigid. My paternal grandma searched the whole apartment and came out again, her voice sharp with worry. “Where is the child? When was the last time you saw her?” My parents started to tremble, an uncontrollable shaking that ran through their bodies. They didn’t speak. They couldn’t. Their eyes, wide with a dawning horror, drifted towards the washing machine.

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The third year after my death, my husband sent me a lawsuit. He was suing me. The papers alleged that the kidney I had donated to his childhood sweetheart, Olivia, was defective. He, of course, received no response. To force me out of hiding, he held a press conference, publicly transferring twenty percent of his company’s shares to her. When that failed, he finally drove back to my hometown, his patience exhausted. Our old neighbor was baffled. “Maya? We haven’t seen her since her grandfather passed.” He pounded on my family’s door, his fury a palpable thing. My sister was the one who opened it. “Ethan? Don’t you know? My sister has been dead for two years.” 1 The man, my husband, jammed his hands into the pockets of his tailored slacks. A derisive laugh escaped his lips. “What new game is Maya playing now? Faking her death? Trying to make me feel guilty?” His voice was laced with ice. “She had the nerve to drive her car at Olivia two years ago. All I did was cut off her credit cards, and she throws a tantrum like this?” He shook his head, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “If Olivia’s kidney hadn’t started acting up today, I never would have forgiven her.” My sister Chloe’s brow furrowed, her expression a mixture of grief and disbelief. “My sister has been dead for two years. What are you talking about, you forgive her? That’s insane.” Ethan ignored Chloe completely, his gaze shifting past her into the small house. A flash of white fur caught his eye; our little dog, Buddy, was wagging his tail. “Don’t even try to lie to me,” Ethan scoffed. “Buddy’s here. Where could Maya have possibly gone?” He lowered his voice, the sound a low threat. “You tell her I’m giving her an out. If she doesn’t take it, she can stay gone forever.” As if he understood, Buddy limped forward, barking twice at Ethan’s expensive shoes. Chloe reached down, scooping the little dog into her arms to soothe him. But it was too late. Buddy’s tongue lolled out, and his small body was seized by violent, spasming convulsions. Chloe scrambled, frantically searching for the small oxygen tank and the tongue depressor. Seeing Buddy like that, a fissure of pain cracked through my soul. I instinctively reached out, my ghostly arms trying to embrace him. But they passed right through his trembling body. The cold reality washed over me again. I wasn’t in this world anymore. I could never hold my loved ones again. A look of disgust twisted Ethan’s handsome features. “Damn dog. You want me to kick you again?” Two years ago, in a fight over Olivia, Ethan had slapped me across the face. Buddy, ever loyal, had sunk his teeth into Ethan’s leg. Ethan had kicked him so hard he flew across the room. The attack had left Buddy with permanent damage to his right leg and these terrifying stress-induced seizures. Ethan’s voice dropped to a low warning. “I’ll say it one last time. Get Maya out here. Now.” “She’s dead!” Chloe’s voice was a raw, desperate scream. “And even if she were alive, she would never want to see you again! I’d make her stay away from you, find a good man, and build a life that had absolutely nothing to do with you!” Ethan didn’t believe a word of it. “So that’s it?” He sneered. “She’s shacked up with some other guy behind my back? Just like Olivia said. A cheap, faithless woman. I must have been blind to ever marry her.” The words struck me like a physical blow, tearing through the fabric of my spirit. So, this is what it felt like. Even in death, your heart could still break. He and his perfect Olivia had already pushed me to my grave, and still, he stood here, desecrating my memory with his filth. The agony was a wildfire in my soul, scorching me from the inside out. “How dare you,” Chloe choked out, tears streaming down her face. “Get out. Get out of our house!” Ethan’s eyes, cold and hard, swept over her. “Your house? Every brick and board of this place was paid for by me, Ethan Blackwood. Didn’t your sister tell you? Even the money for your deadbeat brother’s wedding—that came from my pocket.” It was true. Ethan had been our family’s twisted savior. When my mother was dying, he’d paid the medical bills that saved her life. When my brother’s fiancée got pregnant and her family pressured her to have an abortion, Ethan had provided the money that allowed them to marry, the money that allowed my nephew to be born. And so, in his mind, everything I gave, everything he took, was simply a debt being repaid. What he never knew, what he never bothered to ask, was that I was born with only one kidney. The doctor who did my pre-donation physical, the one who was supposed to protect me, had been bought off by Olivia long before. I only found out on the operating table. The anesthesiologist, in on the scheme, had given me half the standard dose. I drifted in and out of a hazy, paralyzed consciousness, a silent witness to my own violation. I heard them chatting idly as they worked. I felt the searing pain as they removed my only healthy kidney, replacing it with a cold, mechanical device that was a torture chamber inside my own body. After the surgery, a severe infection took hold. Complications followed with terrifying speed. Less than two weeks later, I was dead. And all the while, Ethan was by Olivia’s side, whispering comforting words, tending to her recovery, never once thinking of me. Chloe was sobbing now, her composure shattered. “Mr. Blackwood, if you don’t believe me, then go to the hospital where she had the surgery! Go and ask them!” “They have my sister’s death certificate!” Ethan let out a cold, humorless laugh. “I already did. They told me she was discharged without any complications. You can’t even get your lies straight.” That wasn’t what happened. I died in that hospital. They couldn’t save me. But a simple lie, one that could be disproven with a single phone call, was all it took for Ethan to believe what he wanted to believe. “Ethan Blackwood! You dare show your face here!” A new voice, low and shaking with rage, cut through the tension. My brother, Leo, stood in the doorway, his eyes burning red. 2 Leo had just gotten home from his construction job, his face streaked with grime and exhaustion. But the weariness was eclipsed by the inferno of fury in his eyes. “I’ve paid back every cent we owed you,” he growled. “What the hell are you still doing here?” Ethan calmly took a cigarette from the pack his assistant offered him, leaning into the flame. Smoke curled around his face, obscuring his expression. “Leo. Your family leeched off my wife, and through her, you leeched off me. Do you really think a debt like that can ever be ‘paid in full’?” A flicker of pain crossed Leo’s face. He looked down, his voice a low murmur. “You’re right. I was a burden to her. But you… you have no right to say that to me.” He lunged forward, grabbing the collar of Ethan’s expensive shirt. “I was the only one who told her not to marry you. She knelt on our doorstep for a day and a night to get my blessing…” His voice broke. “And what was the result? You shattered her heart. You got her killed! You should be off somewhere with your precious Olivia, living happily ever after. You have no business being here, disturbing her spirit!” “Ethan! You’re a piece of garbage, worse than an animal!” Ethan’s face hardened. He calmly pressed the glowing tip of his cigarette onto the back of Leo’s hand. Flesh sizzled. “Leo!” Chloe screamed. “It was just a kidney,” Ethan said, his voice dangerously quiet. “I gave her ten million dollars for it. What kind of garbage is that generous?” He shoved Leo back. “She agreed to it herself. Don’t you dare try to blame me now.” Leo cradled his burned hand. “What ten million? The fifty thousand for the wedding and the half-million for Mom’s treatment, I paid it all back! Stop spewing your lies!” “You took the money and now you deny it. Is everyone in this family so disgusting?” Ethan’s patience snapped. He gestured to the black-suited men who had been waiting silently by his car. “Grab them. Let the dogs out. Time to teach them some manners.” Panic seized me. My spectral form dropped to its knees in a useless plea as the security guards stormed the house, surrounding my family. Vicious, slobbering dogs, bred for fighting, were unleashed from the back of an SUV. They lunged. My brother shielded my sister, but Buddy was too small, too slow. He was torn apart in a blur of fur and blood. “No! Stop! Please, stop!” I shrieked, but no one could hear me. Tears of blood streamed down my face. Only Buddy, in his final moments, looked up, his dying eyes seeming to find mine. My Buddy. You knew I was here the whole time, didn’t you? And all I could do was watch him die. “That was just a small lesson,” Ethan snarled, his face a mask of rage. “You have three days. Tell Maya to come back on her own. Otherwise, what happened to that mutt is what happens to you.” The door slammed shut, shaking the small house to its foundations. He would do it. Years ago, after I’d said something unflattering about Olivia, he had systematically destroyed my family’s business, driving my father into a stress-induced illness from which he never recovered. When it came to protecting Olivia, Ethan was a force of nature, destroying anything and anyone in his path. For two years, my soul has been tethered to him by the ghost of that stolen kidney. It is a fate more agonizing than any hell I could have imagined. Downstairs, in his car, his phone rang. The name on the screen was Olivia. Instantly, the rage vanished from Ethan’s face, replaced by a soft tenderness. “Hey, Liv. What’s up?” My spirit was pulled along, an invisible passenger. I watched him, my heart aching as his entire demeanor changed. “Ethan, honey,” Olivia’s voice purred through the speaker. “Is Maya still hiding from us?” A delicate, fake cough. “It’s all my fault. My body is so weak, it couldn’t even handle the rejection. I ruined the beautiful kidney she gave me. I bet she’ll never agree to give me another one…” Her cloying, manipulative tone made me want to vomit. “Don’t be silly,” Ethan cooed. “How could you say that? We’ll get her the best bio-printed artificial kidney on the market. She’ll do it whether she wants to or not.” He laughed. “The doctors said your body can only accept a living transplant. Maya works out all the time, she’s as strong as an ox. She’s been living just fine with an artificial one, hasn’t she?” He spent another thirty minutes soothing her before he reluctantly hung up. Just then, another assistant, a younger man, knocked on the car window. “Mr. Blackwood, sir. An anonymous email just came through. It’s a death certificate…” Ethan raised an eyebrow. “Whose?” “It’s… it’s for Ms. Maya.” 3 Ethan took the printed document from his assistant with an air of casual indifference. My name, Maya, was clearly typed across the top. He let out a short, sharp laugh. “Maya, you really are something else. Forging a death certificate just to avoid me? Do you really think that’s going to work?” The assistant hesitated. “Sir, I don’t think it’s a forgery. I ran a check with the county clerk’s office, and the police department confirmed it as well…” “Enough!” Ethan cut him off, his voice sharp with irritation. “It’s obviously another one of her little games. She wants me to regret what I did. She can dream on.” He jabbed a finger at the man. “Find her. I don’t care where she’s hiding. Tear this state apart inch by inch if you have to, but you will find her.” The assistant sighed, nodding meekly. “Yes, Mr. Blackwood.” A week passed. The assistant returned, his face pale and unsettled. “Sir, the private investigators have reported back. They’ve… they’ve confirmed Ms. Maya’s death. The body was cremated at the municipal funeral home. Her brother, Leo, signed for the ashes. There’s no mistake.” Ethan’s brow furrowed. “Bullshit! Maya loves life more than anyone I know. She’d never just give up and die. This is the woman who went on some crazy spiritual quest in the desert just to find some miracle cure for a damn fever!” A bitter laugh escaped my spectral form. He had no idea. That trip to the New Mexico desert wasn’t for me. That year, Ethan had contracted a rare, aggressive infection on a business trip to South America. The best doctors, the strongest antibiotics—nothing could break his fever. I heard a rumor about a reclusive herbalist in a remote desert community who had an ancient remedy. I drove for days, then hiked for miles into the mountains, the high altitude leaving me dizzy and breathless, on the verge of collapse. But I found the old woman in her isolated cabin. I got the remedy. And whether it was the herbs or my desperate faith, I’ll never know, but after he took it, Ethan’s fever broke. And he thought I did it all for myself. The irony was almost funny. The assistant looked deeply uncomfortable. “But sir, I hired two separate firms. They both came back with the same result. It’s possible that Ms. Maya really is…” “Bullshit!” Ethan slammed his fist on his desk. “I know her better than that! She’s relentless. She never gives up until she gets what she wants, and she was determined to be stuck to me for the rest of our lives.” A cruel, knowing smile spread across his face. “Maybe she knew her kidney was failing all along. She’s playing dead to avoid taking responsibility. I bet she’s off somewhere right now, laughing her ass off.” The assistant was stunned into silence. “But sir, that’s… that’s incredibly dramatic.” Ethan’s smile widened. “She was the star of the drama club in college, remember? Faking her own death is right up her alley. She’s a professional.” The assistant had no response. “So, Mr. Blackwood,” he finally managed. “Should I tell them to continue the investigation?” Ethan lit another cigarette, blowing a perfect smoke ring. “Yes. I want to know exactly which funeral home, which crematorium. I want to know where the ashes are buried.” He took a long drag, his eyes glinting. “I want to see just how perfect Maya’s little performance really is.” I stood behind him, this man I had loved for seven years, and felt the last embers of my affection turn to ice. My soul felt a little more transparent, a little more faded. Another week went by. The assistant came to report, his expression grim. He placed a file on Ethan’s desk. “I found it. Ms. Maya was cremated at the City Central Funeral Home. The date of cremation was two years ago.” He took a deep breath. “Her ashes are interred at Green Hills Memorial Park, just outside the city. Section C, row six, plot eight.” “The groundskeeper confirmed it. Her brother and sister visit every year on her birthday.” Ethan’s face was a thundercloud. “Well, well,” he whispered, his lips barely moving. “She really thought of everything.” He shot up from his chair, his movements sharp and violent. “You’re really committed to hiding from me, aren’t you, Maya?” He strode towards the door. “Let’s go. We’re taking a drive to Green Hills.” 4 I was a freshman in college when that photo was taken. My smile was shy, my eyes full of a hopeful, uncomplicated light. Ethan stood frozen before the headstone, his gaze locked on that black-and-white image of a girl he barely remembered. His assistant hovered a respectful distance away, not daring to breathe. My soul drifted beside them, a wave of melancholy washing over me as I looked at my own grave. Leo took such good care of it. My mother, broken by grief, had followed me into death the year after I passed. “Dig it up.” Ethan’s voice was a harsh rasp, making his assistant jump. “Sir? What… what did you say?” “Are you deaf? I said dig up her grave.” The assistant’s face went white. “Mr. Blackwood, we can’t do that! That’s… that’s a desecration! Ms. Maya is gone. Please, let her rest in peace.” Ethan was relentless. “If you won’t do it, you can pack your things and be out of my company by the end of the day. All of you.” The bodyguards exchanged uneasy glances, but they were paid to obey. With grim faces, they picked up shovels from the groundskeeper’s shed and began to dig. Ethan watched, his eyes never leaving the disturbed earth, until the shovels struck something hard. A small, simple urn was lifted from the ground. He snatched it from the bodyguard’s hands and wrenched the lid open. I saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard, a tense exhalation of breath just before his hands moved. The assistant and the bodyguards respectfully looked away. A sound cut through the quiet cemetery—a laugh. It was sharp, triumphant, and utterly devoid of warmth. “Hahahaha! I knew it! I knew she was playing me! Maya, let’s see you act your way out of this one!” The assistant, bewildered, glanced at the urn. His jaw dropped. “It’s… empty.”

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At the welcome-home dinner, my parents’ adopted daughter, Chloe, leaned in and whispered in my ear. “The Ainsworths have room for one daughter. You’re just some trash they scraped off the street.” I thought she had a point. So I turned and walked into the intersection, right into the stream of oncoming headlights. My new family completely lost their minds. They dragged me back to the curb, a chaotic mess of pleading and shouting. My brother, Ethan, his face a mask of fury, warned me never to upset his sister like that again. I nodded obediently. Later that night, I went downstairs, turned on the gas stove without lighting it, and left a note on the counter. 【It’s my fault I made my sister sad. I want to take the whole family to heaven with me, so no one has to worry anymore.】 The way they all looked at me after that, you would’ve thought they’d seen a ghost. A few weeks later, at a party, Chloe and her little friends cornered me by the pool. With a collective shove, they sent me into the deep end. But I didn’t struggle. I didn’t even kick. I just let my body sink toward the blue-painted concrete. Panic erupted. Chloe, her perfect makeup ruined by a splash of water, had to dive in after me, yanking me up by my hair. “You idiot,” she hissed, water streaming from her mouth. “If you actually drowned, Mom and Dad would hate me!” She dragged me to the edge. “Couldn’t you at least pretend to fight it?” What she didn’t know was that I had fought back before. The reward for fighting was dying, again and again, in far worse ways. This was my tenth life. This time, all I wanted was to finally die. 1 The chlorine in the pool water burned my stomach, a familiar fire. Ethan was the one who pulled me out completely. I collapsed on the poolside tiles, coughing up a lungful of water, my body limp. Chloe’s face was sheet-white. Her friends began to stammer, their voices overlapping in a frantic chorus. “We were just kidding around!” “Yeah, who knew she’d just let herself sink like that!” “No one just… stops moving when they’re drowning. Is she trying to scam us or something?” Ethan wrapped his suit jacket around my shivering shoulders as I struggled to my feet. My teeth chattered violently, a rhythm I couldn’t control. Still, I managed to force a smile as I looked directly at Chloe. “Sister, you told me to get in, so I got in.” My voice was quiet. “I do what you say.” A visible shudder ran through Chloe. She took a step back, as if I were some kind of monster. “What are you talking about?” she shrieked. “I never told you to do that!” Her eyes filled with tears as our parents rushed over, drawn by the commotion. “Dad, Mom, don’t listen to her, she’s crazy!” Chloe sobbed, pointing a trembling finger at me. “Sadie is trying to frame me!” My parents’ expressions were grim as they took in my drenched, pathetic state. One of Chloe’s friends, a girl in a designer dress, spoke up. “It’s true, Mr. and Mrs. Ainsworth. She just jumped in. We tried to help her, but she wouldn’t even grab our hands!” I peered out from behind Ethan’s arm, my face a canvas of pure innocence. “I wasn’t refusing help,” I said softly. “It’s just… when my sister tells me to do something, I have to do it perfectly. Otherwise, she gets upset.” I looked from my mother to my father, then to my brother. “When sister gets upset, Ethan gets upset. When they’re upset, you both get upset.” My eyes were wide and earnest. “So please, just tell me. What do I have to do to make you all happy?” A dead silence fell over the patio. Everyone was staring at me like I belonged in a straitjacket. Ethan’s body went rigid beside me. His grip on my arm was suddenly bruisingly tight. “Sadie, shut up.” My father’s voice was sharp as he barked at the housekeeper. “Take Miss Sadie to her room. And call Dr. Miller. I want him to run a full evaluation.” Then he turned to Chloe, his gaze uncharacteristically stern. “Chloe, you come with me. Now.” Chloe had always been the princess of this castle, shielded from so much as a harsh word. The tone of his voice made her flinch. The tears she’d been holding back finally broke free, and she began to truly weep. “Dad, it wasn’t me, I swear…” Watching their troubled faces, a profound weariness washed over me. What more do you people want from me? When Chloe’s toy poodle ran away, she’d put a collar around my neck, made me eat kibble from a bowl on the floor, and sleep in the doghouse as her new pet. When she went camping with her friends, she zipped me into a sealed sleeping bag and kicked me down a hillside. I remember the sickening crunch of my bones against the rocks, a pain so sharp it became a kind of numbness before I suffocated. As she looked down at my broken, twisted body, all she did was purse her lips. “Guess the quality of this sleeping bag is pretty terrible. I should leave a bad review.” A small, cruel smile. “Good thing my little sister tested it for me.” This time, I didn’t fight her torment. I did everything I was told. So why, Mom, Dad, Ethan… why are you still not happy? 2 After the doctor left, my mother, Eleanor, came into my room with a glass of warm milk and sat on the edge of my bed. She watched me for a long time, her expression a mix of pity and confusion. “Sadie, tell me the truth.” Her voice was soft. “Do you… do you really hate this family so much?” I shook my head. “I don’t hate you.” “Then why do you do these things? Why do you keep hurting yourself?” I took a small sip of the milk, considering her question seriously before answering. “I just want to make everyone happy.” Her eyes instantly reddened. “But you’re my daughter. My real daughter. You don’t have to please anyone!” I set the glass down and looked up at her. “But since I came home, Chloe hasn’t been happy. Ethan hasn’t been happy.” My gaze was steady. “Mom, was finding me a mistake?” The question left her speechless. All she could do was pull me into a hug. “No, Sadie. You are not a mistake.” Her embrace was warm. But it only made me remember another life. The one where Chloe had sliced her own palm with a paring knife and collapsed into this same embrace, weeping. Eleanor’s eyes had been so cold as she looked at me then. She’d locked me in a dark, musty storage closet, letting Chloe turn the knob on the old gas line outside, telling me I could come out when I’d reflected on how to stop “hurting” my sister. Back then, I didn’t understand what I had done wrong. All I’d wanted was to survive, to make them like me. Now, all I wanted was to die. And suddenly, my mother was calling me her precious child. The next day, there was a family meeting. Chloe, whose eyes were swollen shut from a night of crying, sobbed her piece. “I really didn’t push her. I was just… I was just scared.” She looked at our parents, her voice trembling. “I was scared that if she was back, you wouldn’t want me anymore.” That was all it took for Ethan. His protective instincts flared. “Mom, Chloe didn’t mean it. She’s just insecure,” he said, defending her immediately. “Look at Sadie. She’s only been here a few weeks, and she’s turned this house upside down!” He pointed at me, his face filled with disgust. “She’s not normal!” My father, Richard, rubbed his temples and sighed. “This can’t go on.” He made a decision. “We’ll find a therapist for Sadie. Get her some proper help.” On the day of the appointment, I was perfectly cooperative. I answered every question the doctor asked. “Why do you think about dying so often?” I sat on the plush leather sofa, swinging my legs. “Because it’s the easiest way to make all the problems disappear.” The therapist adjusted his glasses, trying to guide me. “But have you considered that if you die, the people who love you will be heartbroken?” I blinked, genuinely curious. “Love me?” I leaned forward slightly. “You mean love like the woman at the orphanage, who would say she loved me while she watched the other kids beat me?” “Or love like the man who bought me, who called me his good little girl while he locked me in a dog cage?” “Or…” I paused, glancing at the door. “Is it love like my brother? The one who warns me not to upset his precious sister, but waits until I’m half-drowned to pull me from the water?” I leaned closer, my voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Doctor, they don’t love me. They’re just afraid I’ll die in their house and cause a scandal.” “They think I’m sick and need to be fixed.” “But I’m not sick. I’m just… listening to them.” “To make them happy, I’ll do whatever they want.” “They wanted me to die, so I’ll die. Is that so wrong?” The doctor’s hand, the one holding the pen, froze mid-air. His face had gone completely pale. 3 The therapist reported every single word I said back to my parents. His final diagnosis was chilling: I wasn’t sick. Not in the way they thought. I was using an extreme, self-destructive form of self-preservation and revenge. My mental state was a string stretched to its breaking point; the slightest pressure could snap it completely. For me, actively seeking death had become the ultimate defense mechanism. After hearing this, my mother locked herself in her study for the rest of the day. My father chain-smoked on the balcony, one cigarette after another. Only Ethan remained convinced it was all an act. “Sadie is playing you!” he insisted. “You’re all falling for it! This is just her twisted way of trying to get rid of Chloe!” Chloe hid behind him, peering at me with timid eyes, though I could see a flicker of triumph deep within them. As long as Ethan was on her side, she believed she was invincible. “Mom, Dad, don’t worry,” she said, her voice soft and caring. “I’ll be nice to Sadie. I’ll help her get better.” The atmosphere in the house grew heavier each day. In a desperate attempt to normalize things, my parents decided to enroll me in King’s Academy, the same exclusive private school that Chloe and Ethan attended. They naively believed that putting me in a regular peer environment might help. Chloe was the first to protest. Her eyes widened in horror. “I don’t want her at my school! Everyone will make fun of me!” For the first time, my father’s voice was unyielding. “This is not up for discussion.” Chloe stormed off to her room, but I knew she wouldn’t let it go that easily. Sure enough, on my first day, I was the center of attention. The rumor had already spread like wildfire: the long-lost Ainsworth heiress was a lunatic fresh out of a psych ward. A clique of girls constantly surrounded Chloe, offering sympathetic whispers while shooting pointed glares in my direction. “Chloe, your sister is so weird. She has this creepy, vacant look…” “I heard she tried to kill your whole family with a gas leak! Isn’t that, like, certifiable?” “You should be careful. What if she tries to hurt you?” Chloe would put on a pained, sorrowful expression. “You guys, don’t say that. My sister… she’s just sick.” The more she “defended” me, the more monstrous I seemed to everyone else. The isolation was immediate and absolute. No one spoke to me. A chalk line was drawn around my desk. Ink was spilled on my textbooks. I didn’t care. Compared to the orphanage, this was child’s play. During gym class, the teacher told us to have free play. The gym captain, one of Chloe’s friends, ordered me to go to the equipment room to get more basketballs. The moment I stepped inside, the heavy door clicked shut behind me. The lock scraped into place. The room plunged into darkness. Through the door, I could hear Chloe and her friends giggling. “A psycho like her should be locked up, not let out of the hospital!” “Chloe, do you think she’ll freak out and start biting herself in there?” “Hahaha, probably! You should crack the door and peek.” “No way, I’m not going near her!” Class wouldn’t be over for another forty minutes. All I had to do was wait. The dark, cramped space gave me a strange sense of peace. I felt myself growing drowsy. After some time, an impatient voice came from outside the door. “Hey, crazy girl in there! Are you dead yet?” A pause. “Make a noise if you’re not dead!” I ignored her. A few moments later, the voice returned, now tinged with panic. “She’s not making any sound. What if something really happened?” “So what if it did?” It was Chloe’s voice, cold and dismissive. “If she dies, I’ll still be here to take care of Mom and Dad when they’re old. Let her figure out how to break the door down herself. Let’s go.” Their footsteps faded away. I closed my eyes, ready to get some real sleep. Suddenly, a sharp, acrid smell filled the air. Smoke. 4 The fire spread with terrifying speed. Within three minutes, the thick smoke was choking me, and the small equipment room had become a furnace. I didn’t scream for help. I didn’t bang on the door. I just hugged a basketball to my chest and curled up in the corner farthest from the flames. My consciousness began to fade. This is good, I thought. This time, I can finally succeed. No jumping off buildings, no gas leaks, no one to pull me from the water. Just a quiet exit, without bothering a soul. Once this life was over, I could finally be free of this body and move on. This body, covered in scars. My wrists, broken more times than I could count. My legs, mottled with cigarette burns. I wouldn’t have to live this painful, pathetic life of trying to please everyone anymore. Just as I was about to slip away completely, there was a deafening crash. The door splintered off its hinges. A figure, silhouetted against the flames, charged in and swept me up from the floor. It was Ethan. His clothes were blackened with soot, his face a mess of panic and terror. “Sadie! Wake up!” He carried me out of the inferno. A crowd had gathered on the lawn outside. When Chloe and her friends saw me emerge, alive, their expressions were a wild mix of shock, guilt, and a sliver of unmistakable disappointment. I was laid on the grass, and I greedily gasped for fresh air. Ethan knelt in front of me, his voice tighter and more strained than I had ever heard it. “Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?” I stared at him, my chest rattling with each cough. “Brother, you saved me again.” I looked him dead in the eye, my tone flat but laced with genuine regret. “Why did you have to save me? I was so close to being dead.” Ethan’s face went dark. He grabbed my shoulders, his voice a raw roar. “Why didn’t you call for help?! Why didn’t you try to break the door down?! Did you really want to die?!” He shook me, his control gone. “Sadie, what the fuck are you trying to do!” I didn’t answer him. Instead, my gaze shifted to Chloe, standing in the crowd. She flinched as if I’d struck her. “It wasn’t me!” she yelped. “I didn’t start the fire! I don’t know how it started!” Her friends quickly chimed in. “We were already gone! It has nothing to do with us!” “Sadie went to get the basketballs herself! We just showed her where the room was!” Just then, the head of campus security ran up, panting, to the school principal. “We found the cause. It was old wiring in the equipment room. It short-circuited and started the fire.” It was an accident. A collective sigh of relief went through the crowd. Chloe’s shoulders slumped, and she immediately put her mask of fragile innocence back on. “Oh, Sadie, I’m so glad you’re okay!” she cried, rushing toward me. “It’s all our fault. We shouldn’t have played that joke on you, making you get the equipment all alone.” She reached for my hand. I recoiled, pulling away from her touch with the instinct of a chronically abused animal. And then, in front of everyone, for the first time, I began to scream and cry. A raw, piercing wail of terror. “I’m sorry, sister! I’m sorry! I should have stayed in there, but I don’t like the dark room! I don’t like it!” I looked up at her, my face a mess of tears and soot. “Next time,” I sobbed, “next time, can you pick a different way for me to die? Please?”

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