Author: Momo Chan

Over summer break, my younger brother used my account to blow $5,000 on video games. When my mom found out, she acted like the sky was falling. She frantically demanded my ID so she could file for a “minor’s unauthorized purchase” refund. “That’s five thousand dollars! Do you know how long it takes me to save that much?” she wailed. “Claire, give me your ID right now!” I comforted her, promising to fix it, and rushed home from college. On the way, I was scrolling through a local community forum when a post caught my eye: [How do I get a refund for a minor’s game purchase with the least impact on my son?] My son played games all summer and spent five figures without me knowing. Luckily, he’s under 18, so I can apply for a refund. But will this affect his credit or future? Oh, right. I have a daughter in college. If the refund fails, can I just make her pay for it? The top comment offered a “solution”: [You have a daughter? Easy. Say your son used her account. Any bans or credit hits will fall on her, not him.] The original poster liked the comment. My blood ran cold. 1 The comments section was tearing the poster apart: [Stop trying to scam the system. Take responsibility.] [If you do a chargeback like this, the tech giant will blacklist the ID. That phone number and SSN will be banned from all their services forever. It’s digital suicide.] [If your son goes to college later, he might not even be able to log into university portals if they use single sign-on!] But the poster ignored the warnings. She only liked the comment suggesting she use her daughter as a shield. My mind went blank. It couldn’t be a coincidence. Just moments ago, my mom called me, sobbing that my brother Tyler had spent $5,000 on games and begging me to come home. I had dropped everything at my dorm and sprinted to the station. My phone buzzed. A voice message from Mom. “Claire, how far away are you?” “I don’t know how Tyler got my card password. I can’t control him anymore! I just want to die!” “Claire, you’re all I have!” Her voice was desperate, filled with despair. We’re a single-parent household. Since the divorce, Mom raised Tyler and me on her own. She’s aged faster than other women her age. September was coming. Tuition was due for my sophomore year and Tyler’s senior year of high school. We needed money. I gripped my ID card so hard my knuckles turned white. A mother who suffered so much for us… how could she be the person who wrote that post? It had to be a coincidence. The subway announced my stop. I typed back quickly: [Mom, don’t worry. I’m almost there.] 2 I ran all the way from the station. When I opened the door, the house was dark. A shattered vase lay on the floor. Mom was on the sofa, wiping tears. Tyler stood in the corner, looking guilty but shooting me a glance that screamed, Save me. When Mom saw me, she grabbed my arm like a lifeline. “I looked away for one summer, and he went crazy!” she cried. “I checked the statement. Five thousand dollars! Do you know how hard I work for that? How am I going to pay your tuition?” She looked at me with intense urgency. “Claire, did you bring your ID? We have to apply for the minor refund right now!” Tyler looked at me with puppy-dog eyes. “Sis, please.” Looking at his face, I just wanted to punch him. He used to be a good kid. How did he rot so fast in one summer? I moved to scold him, but Mom blocked me. “I already yelled at him! Claire, just give me the ID!” If this were yesterday, I would have handed it over without a second thought. I did whatever she asked. But the forum post was burned into my retina. I hesitated. “Mom… maybe we should contact customer support first? Understand the consequences?” Mom gripped my wrist tighter. It hurt. “Claire, don’t worry! I already called them! You just need to hold your ID, let me take a picture, and do a facial recognition scan. Refunds take time. We have to do this now if we want the money back for tuition!” The more anxious she got, the colder I felt. I shook my head. “It’s okay, Mom. My tuition isn’t urgent. I have a 3.9 GPA; I got a scholarship this semester. You just need to worry about Tyler.” “Besides, we’ve never done this. What if we mess it up and they deny it? Let’s research first.” Seeing my resistance, Mom finally let go of my arm. She glared at me. “You’ve grown up. You don’t trust your own mother anymore.” 3 I didn’t comfort her. Instead, I took Tyler’s phone and contacted the game’s support chat to ask about the refund process. While waiting, I laughed bitterly internally. I used to see news about parents refunding thousands of dollars and thought, good for them. Now, I was the victim. Support finally sent a link. It was a form. Bank statements, birth certificate, photos of the minor playing, and a photo of the account holder (me) holding my ID. Tyler’s situation was specific. Games have strict anti-addiction measures for minors. So, during the summer, Tyler used my account to bypass the time limits. I had agreed to it back then because I was soft-hearted. So now, to get the money back, I—the adult account holder—had to claim fraud. At the bottom of the form, in bold red letters: [WARNING: Upon processing a refund for minor usage on an adult account, the account holder’s ID and phone number will be permanently banned from all services within our ecosystem.] I froze. “Ecosystem.” Mom was still buzzing in my ear. “Claire, are you done? See? It’s fine. Come here, hold the ID up.” My brain was buzzing. Mom was loud. I looked over at Tyler. He was standing in the corner, head down… playing games on a second phone hidden in his sleeve. He didn’t care. He wasn’t sorry. Something inside me snapped. I pushed Mom away. “Ouch! My stomach hurts!” I ran into the bathroom and locked the door. 4 Sitting on the toilet, shaking, I pulled out my phone. I found that forum post again. The poster’s IP address was local. The timestamp was July 10th—right at the start of summer break. I scrolled down to the comments. The poster had replied to the comment about using the daughter’s account: [So, if he uses his sister’s account, my son won’t be affected at all? You’re sure?] The reply: [100%.] The poster replied: [Great. I’ll let him play then. Boys will be boys, gaming isn’t a big deal.] My hands were trembling. I opened WeChat and searched my chat history with Tyler. July 11th. The day after the post. Tyler: [Sis, can I use your login for games? My kid account has a 3-hour limit.] I had sent him the verification code instantly, telling him to focus on studying. Tyler: [Love you, Sis.] My heart shattered. It wasn’t a mistake. It was a setup. From a month ago, my mother had planned this. She let him spend the money knowing she would burn me to get it back. The tech giant that owned this game also owned the software my university used for online electives and the portal for submitting assignments. If my ID was blacklisted, I would become a digital ghost. I wouldn’t be able to log into my classes. I would fail due to attendance. I would lose my scholarship. And Mom… she knew. She knew the consequences, or at least that someone would face consequences, and she decided it should be me. Someone pounded on the bathroom door. “Claire! Hurry up! What are you doing in there?” 5 I stepped out of the bathroom. Under the harsh living room lights, my mother looked old and tired. The words of accusation died in my throat. I felt nothing but a hollow ache. I didn’t understand. Why? I was the good child. I got scholarships. I tutored kids to buy her and Tyler new phones. I wore old clothes so they could have new ones. I saved every penny to buy her a gold necklace for Mother’s Day. Was I just a fool? “Where’s the ID?” she demanded. I took a deep breath. “I… I lost it on the way here.” Silence. Mom frowned, her eyes narrowing with genuine anger. “I told you to be careful! You’re so useless. How are we going to fix Tyler’s mess now? Fine, we’ll go to the DMV tomorrow morning to get a replacement.” “Can we just… not refund it?” I asked, my voice trembling. “He played on the official server. We can sell the account to recoup some losses.” Mom stared at me like I was insane. “Sell it? How much can we get?” I pulled up a trading app. “The items and skins he bought… market value is about $800.” “$800?! No! That’s a huge loss!” Mom screamed. “That’s how virtual items work,” I said quietly. “Mom, you said Tyler needs to learn the value of money. He spent $5,000. We sell the account for $800. The remaining $4,200… you take out of his allowance. Let him learn a lesson.” “As for my tuition… don’t worry about it. I have my job. I won’t starve.”

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In the third year of my younger brother forcing a “poor scholarship student” to love him, her older brother finally showed up. A young, cold, handsome man stepped out of a black luxury car. The floating text comments—the “bullet screen” only I could see—were going insane: [Ahhh, the male lead’s brother… finally!] [He finally made it big and came back for revenge!] [These two bully siblings are about to get destroyed.] [I’ve been waiting for their downfall for so long.] [From now on, it’s the male lead and his sister’s revenge arc!] The comments were celebrating. But as I looked at the man in the black suit across from me, my expression was… unnatural. Because my brother learned his “forced love” tactics from me. And three years ago… I used those same tactics on the man standing right in front of me. 1 I never thought I’d see Julian again. And I definitely never thought he’d be Sarah’s brother. Three years ago, at the opening ceremony, my brother, Ryan, fell in love at first sight with the student representative, Sarah. He threw himself at her. Hard. But Sarah didn’t like him. Ryan was used to getting his way. Sarah didn’t like him? Fine. He relied on the fact that she was a poor orphan and used every method in the book to force her into a relationship. Of course, I tried to stop him. I tried to curb his tyrannical behavior. But Ryan shut me down with one sentence: “Sis, remember the scandal you caused with that poor student back in the day?” He said, “You gave him a car, a house, money… you even hired bodyguards to watch him so he wouldn’t run away.” “Mom, Dad, Grandma, Grandpa… they all lectured you, but no one could stop you.” He muttered under his breath, “I learned everything from you.” 2 As he spoke, my brother—the guy who never shed a tear or begged for mercy even when Dad beat him as a kid—suddenly had red eyes. “I can listen to you about anything else,” he said, his messy hair framing a face of rare seriousness. “But Sis, I really, really like her.” I looked at him. For a second, I saw my past self. I, too, had once desperately sought love from a man who didn’t want me. I used every trick, every resource I had. But I still couldn’t keep him. He still ran away from me. Seeing the fragility on Ryan’s face, I turned my back. “Fine,” I said. “But aside from keeping her by your side, you cannot hurt her in any other way.” “Or I will freeze all your accounts.” 3 My affair with Julian back then was indeed a huge scandal. It ended poorly. Very poorly. To this day, no one dares mention his name around me. So right now, watching him step out of that black Bugatti, I felt like I was in a different lifetime. He wore a severe black suit, a luxury watch on his wrist. His assistant bowed slightly, guiding him. He seemed taller than before. When I forced him to stay with me, we had just graduated high school. He was only 18. Poor, thin, always wearing a washed-out shirt. He always turned his profile to me, cold and indifferent. He wouldn’t look me in the eye for days. 4 “This is Ms. Chloe Zhou,” his assistant introduced me. His eyelashes fluttered, and he finally deigned to look at me. The moment our eyes met—his dark, abyssal gaze locking onto mine—a flurry of white text zoomed across my vision: [Damn! Finally!] [The male lead is back in the country!] [This time, he’s not the tragic hero anymore; he’s a god!] [No more humiliation, just pure, unadulterated revenge.] [These bully siblings are the first wave of cannon fodder he’s going to crush.] [Crushing them and saving his sister will be easier than squashing ants for him.] [They’ve bullied his sister for years. I can’t wait to see them beg.] [Brother, please destroy them.] 5 I stared at the aggressive words floating in the air. Male lead? Julian? In that moment, I wasn’t even surprised. Julian had everything a male lead should have. A flawless face, a brilliant mind, a stoic and enduring personality. Even his tragic, poverty-stricken background fit perfectly. “Ms. Zhou?” The assistant prompted me again. I snapped back to reality. I saw Julian’s cold, impatient face. I suppressed my emotions. I looked him in the eye and spoke calmly. “I will have someone send Sarah back to you tonight.” 6 His assistant had probably prepared a list of reasons and conditions to negotiate with me, fearing I’d be difficult. My clean, immediate agreement left his words hanging in mid-air. He looked at me, bewildered. Then he glanced instinctively at the silent Julian. Time had left its mark on him. The man in the black suit was inscrutable. But every move radiated the oppressive power of a mature, successful man. He was no longer the thin boy I locked in my house. “And how do we settle the harm your brother caused my sister over these years?” Julian finally spoke. His voice was low, magnetic. “Calculate it however you want,” I replied. “The Zhou family won’t protect him.” I picked up my bag, ready to leave. “Sarah will be returned on time tonight.” But Julian stopped me with a single sentence. His voice echoed in the empty lobby. “And what about you?” He asked, “How do we settle what you did to me back then?”

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My boyfriend suddenly regained his memories. He remembered his first love, the girl he’d been obsessed with for years. He couldn’t wait to break up with me. Our two-year relationship was instantly voided. He warned me: “Forget this relationship ever happened. Pretend we never met.” I breathed a sigh of relief. Just yesterday, the System notified me: [Host, your mission is complete.] [Commencing erasure of mission-period memories.] 1 On our two-year anniversary, Asher got into a car accident and fell into a coma. I sat by his bedside for eight hours, only to hear him say: “Anything that happened while I had amnesia was not my own will. Naturally, this two-year relationship doesn’t count.” He got his memories back, and he wanted to break up. I wasn’t surprised by this ending. From the beginning, we hadn’t been honest with each other. Back then, he was an amnesiac with broken legs, hurt by love. I was a Redeemer with a mission, sent specifically for him. The System told me: [The mission objective is to help him stand up again.] Not just physically, but mentally. He was too negative and refused treatment. A person who doesn’t remember the past and can’t see the future is lonely and lifeless. To visualize the mission progress, the System displayed his “Love Value” for me, saying that love could give a person courage again. With love in your heart, you can face any difficulty. When his Love Value for me reached 100, my mission would be complete. I spent two years pulling him out of the abyss, accompanying him as he learned to walk again. The Love Value climbed slowly at first, then soared. Until it stopped at 99. It wouldn’t budge. I was anxious but couldn’t find the reason. Finally, the System couldn’t stand it anymore and reminded me: [Love requires sincerity. You must exchange a true heart for a true heart.] So, I sat on the balcony all night and decided to let go of the mission mindset. I decided to gamble with my real heart. Finally, on our two-year anniversary, while Asher was driving me to our date, we collided with a truck running a red light. In that life-or-death moment, he desperately turned the steering wheel toward himself, leaving the chance of survival to me. In that instant, the System announced: [Love Value Progress: 100%] [Host, your mission is complete.] Fortunately, the cars only scraped past each other. There were no casualties, but Asher fainted from the impact of the airbag. I sat in the hospital room from night until dawn, watching his Love Value drop from 100 to zero. Then it fluctuated up and down until the progress bar disappeared completely. As the sun rose, he opened his eyes and said to me: “Yvonne, let’s break up.” From the beginning, every Redeemer who completes their mission faces two outcomes. One: Be with the mission target forever. Two: Forget each other and disappear into the crowd. Asher frowned, enunciating every word: “Forget this relationship ever happened. Pretend we never met.” This was the ending he chose for us. I looked at him quietly and summoned the System: “Will Asher’s Love Value change anymore?” The System was silent for a few seconds, then told me: [Mission complete. The ending is set.] [From now on, Love Value will not be displayed.] Makes sense. Outside of the System, human love and hate don’t have visible data anyway. Besides, every look and action from Asher right now was telling me clearly—he didn’t need a progress bar. The person he loved now wasn’t me. It was his “White Moonlight”—his first love. Sophie. 2 They were childhood sweethearts. Before I even met Asher, the System told me about his past with Sophie. It was a cliché story of unrequited love. Sophie fell for someone else and planned to go abroad with him. Asher chased after her in his car during a heavy rainstorm, crashed, lost his memory, broke his legs, and fell into a deep depression. His friends couldn’t stand it and called Sophie. From across the ocean, she only said three things: “It’s better if he forgets me. Saves him from pestering me.” “We just grew up together. Helping him recover isn’t my obligation.” “Please don’t bother me anymore. My boyfriend will be upset.” Asher felt nothing about this. In fact, he was annoyed by his friends constantly bringing up Sophie and emphasizing his love for her. Their reminders only highlighted the fact that he, who should have shared memories with everyone, remembered nothing. Every gathering was full of acquaintances who felt like strangers. He was part of the group, yet an outsider. Surrounded by noise, but empty inside. That was probably why I could approach him so easily. We had no shared past, which was a kind of equality. I smiled and told him: “Our memories start now.” Countless moments of eye contact and touch condensed into an Asher who loved me. But when his past memories resurfaced… Our two years couldn’t compare to their twenty. To make matters worse, Sophie was back. Just a few days ago, she had a fight with her boyfriend, secretly returned to the country, and appeared in front of the amnesiac Asher in the rain, crying her eyes out: “I have nowhere to go, Asher.” Faced with this uninvited guest, Asher was annoyed. He ruthlessly pointed out: “Go home. Stay in a hotel. Sleep under a bridge. Even if you really have nowhere to go, my place isn’t a shelter.” Sophie looked like she was about to faint, staring at him in disbelief: “You’ve never spoken to me like that.” “Well, sorry about that,” Asher sneered. “I forgot how I used to talk to you.” I couldn’t bear to see her getting soaked, so I handed her an umbrella. She slapped it away, looking at Asher with hurt eyes. “Even if you don’t remember, Asher, someone must have told you about our twenty years together. Aren’t you afraid you’ll regret treating me like this when you get your memory back?” “Or are you doing this on purpose to get back at me for leaving? Finding a random girlfriend just for revenge?” Then she looked at me and scoffed: “Do you know what this is called? Taking advantage of a vacancy.” I didn’t know if I was taking advantage, chipping away at his defenses while he forgot his love for her. But Sophie was right about one thing. Asher, with his memories restored, regretted it. Unexpectedly, when Sophie heard he was hospitalized, she came to visit. Facing Asher’s soft question: “Aren’t you mad at me?” She huffed cutely and said: “I’ll settle the score after you’re discharged.” “You got into a car accident; how could I not come?” 3 The hospital room quickly filled with people, and I became the extra one. They chatted animatedly about the past—a life I had never been part of. The conversation always circled back to Asher and Sophie. They went to school together, skipped class together. Asher fought for her, took punishments for her. I suddenly felt it was pointless, so I turned to leave. But Sophie called out to me, extending a warm invitation: “Miss Yu, we’re going to celebrate Asher’s new lease on life. You should come too.” I was about to refuse when Asher spoke up first: “No need. We’ve broken up. I’m saying it here so everyone knows—don’t mention it again.” The room went silent for a few seconds before Sophie feigned surprise: “Oh, is that so? Okay then.” “But I have to warn you, Miss Yu, don’t do things like this in the future. You’ll only get hurt.” She glanced at Asher playfully and said to me: “Especially… stay far away from big bad wolves like Asher.” I nodded and smiled gently: “I will.” Asher frowned. Someone laughed and teased: “Tsk tsk, if Asher is a big bad wolf, how did you survive growing up with him, Sophie?” She beamed, her voice crisp: “I’m not afraid of him. I’m the kryptonite for big bad wolves.” Everyone laughed. I walked out of the hospital, finally feeling like I could breathe. Bending over, pressing hard on my chest, I asked the System: “How much longer?” Yesterday, when the System announced I had completed the mission, it also notified me: [Commencing erasure of mission-period memories.] This protocol starts by default upon mission completion, but can be terminated at any time once the ending is set. It’s a protection mechanism for the Redeemer. After all, a mission is like an immersive life simulation. Many Redeemers suffer severe mental and emotional trauma from the second ending, unable to continue their original lives. Giving your heart is handing someone a knife to hurt you. Right now, that knife was stuck in my heart. It really hurt. The System replied quickly: [Integrating mission data. Please wait.] I couldn’t wait. The uncontrollable pain was making me lose it. I needed a distraction. My phone rang. A restaurant name. They said I left something there. Without thinking, I rushed over. When I arrived, the manager told me it was actually Asher’s item, but he had listed my number as the emergency contact. I was about to say my identity had changed when the elevator doors opened. I froze. A sea of tulips flooded my vision. Gentle lights twinkled amongst them, stretching all the way to the main hall at the end of the corridor. It was like stumbling into a romantic floral ocean. The manager handed me a velvet box from a cart, smiling warmly: “Mr. Asher rented the entire floor yesterday, but he never showed up, and we couldn’t reach him. He left this here.” The scene stung my eyes. I didn’t need to look inside the velvet box to know what it was. The setting, the atmosphere, and yesterday being our two-year anniversary… it wasn’t hard to guess. This was a proposal setup. 4 Asher had planned to propose yesterday. I remembered the nervous look in his eyes in the car, and his excited tone when I asked where we were going: “It’s a secret. Saying it early ruins the surprise.” So this was the secret he couldn’t hide. I never expected it to be revealed like this. I stood there in a daze, then heard footsteps coming from around the corner. Voices, excited. I recognized Asher’s friends instantly. “Double happiness, huh?” “Memory recovered! Single again!” “What do you mean ‘single again’? Sophie pouted. “He had amnesia, so it doesn’t count. It was just play-acting.” “You guys, too. I wasn’t around, and you didn’t watch him properly.” “Letting just any woman get close to Asher.” Asher’s friends never really liked me. They saw me as an intruder in their circle. They only held back because Asher liked me enough, and they saw he was getting better with my help. The relationship maintained a delicate balance. Sophie’s return had caused a ripple. After Asher refused to let her in that rainy night, he got an angry call from a friend: “It’s pouring rain, and you won’t even let her in? Asher, you grew up together! You just don’t remember how much you liked her.” “Aren’t you afraid you’ll regret this?” Everyone was sure he would regret it. Asher sneered into the phone: “How many times do I have to say I only like Yvonne? You keep bringing up Sophie—is it me who likes her, or you guys who like her but are too chicken to admit it, using me as a cover?” Silence on the other end. Asher threw the phone aside and hugged me, his voice softening: “So annoying. Why does everyone say I like her?” “Is liking someone hidden in memories?” I smiled and hugged him back, thinking for a moment. “Liking someone is hidden in the heart.” But now, the ‘like’ in his heart was clearly no longer for me. Around the corner, Sophie’s voice continued. She pretended to be angry: “You better think of how to make it up to me.” “I’m still mad.” Asher’s voice sounded weak, probably because he just woke up: “What kind of compensation do you want? I—” He stopped abruptly because he saw me. And the romantic proposal scene behind me. The manager, realizing something was up, stepped forward to explain. He thought Asher had brought friends for the proposal. He congratulated them with a big smile until he saw everyone’s faces darken. He slowly stopped talking. Someone muttered, “Play-acting… with a proposal?” Asher’s face was cold. He watched as I walked closer, shoved the velvet box into his hand, and said gently: “Since you’re here, I’m leaving. Here’s your stuff.” “Wait.” He suddenly spoke, looking down at me. “If we meet again, pretend we’re strangers.” I didn’t look back. “Okay.” The elevator doors opened and closed. The last thing I saw was Sophie taking the ring from his hand, playing with it, and telling the manager unhappily: “Hurry up and get rid of these flowers.” As the elevator went down, a ding sounded. System notification: [Data integration complete.] [Beginning erasure of Host’s mission memories and all traces of existence.] [Beginning unsealing of Host’s pre-mission emotional module.] [Mission reward—Full Recovery Card—issued.] [Your fiancé is about to wake up.]

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After the car accident, my boyfriend and I both lost our memories. We had no choice but to void our relationship. He couldn’t wait to chase after his newly single “White Moonlight” – the girl who got away. I started dating my old deskmate who had just returned from abroad. I thought we both had bright futures ahead of us. Until I sincerely wished him luck in pursuing his true love. He went crazy, screaming at me: “Who gave you permission to actually lose your memories and forget me?!” I didn’t understand. Was he faking his amnesia all along? 1 I broke up with Liam. On our two-year anniversary, we got into a car accident and both ended up with amnesia. Close friends came to the hospital and told us we were a couple. Liam looked me up and down, raised an eyebrow, and made a quick decision: “Since neither of us remembers, I guess we aren’t a couple anymore.” I understood what he meant, but I hesitated. “But we might remember eventually. What if we regret it? Everyone knows we were together.” He chuckled lightly, sounding completely sure of himself. “If you truly like someone, even if you forget the details, the feeling remains. Besides, who can say if we’ll ever get our memories back?” True. Even the doctor couldn’t guarantee when or if our memories would return. He just suggested we interact with people and things from our past to jog our memories. The doctor explained that there are many types of amnesia. Ours seemed to be selective amnesia. We only forgot specific people and events—like our relationship and each other. Everything else, we remembered clearly. This usually happens when the brain or heart suffers severe trauma. It’s a self-defense mechanism to lock away bad memories. Unless the patient is willing to unlock them from within, external intervention doesn’t do much. A friend visiting us had an epiphany after hearing this: “So, basically, you can’t wake a person who’s pretending to be asleep.” I lowered my head and breathed slowly, then glanced at Liam, who was pursing his lips in silence. He turned his face away and scoffed: “If we’re both willing to forget, it means it wasn’t important.” Fair point. One person forgetting might be a coincidence. Two people forgetting means it didn’t matter. When I first woke up in the hospital and learned he was my boyfriend but I had no memory of him, I was nervous. I met his scrutinizing gaze and apologized weakly: “Sorry, I don’t remember you.” Unexpectedly, he smiled as if a heavy burden had been lifted: “It’s okay. I forgot you too.” And so, our two-year relationship was officially voided in that moment. Liam couldn’t wait to post on social media: [The End.] Letting everyone know we broke up. The first comment was from Sophie. She teased: “Liam, copying me again?” Copying what? She dated, he dated. She broke up, he broke up. Sophie and Liam were high school classmates. In college, she became my roommate. She was the one who introduced Liam to me, saying: “Why let an outsider have him? Keep the good stuff in the circle. What do you think? Is my high school buddy handsome?” He was handsome. Tall, long legs, sharp features. Especially when he smiled—cool but boyish. I wanted to be with him the moment I saw him. Later, because of Sophie, we got closer. On the night Sophie announced her new relationship, Liam confessed to me. Now, coincidentally, we were both single again. 2 Everything went back to square one. But Liam still showed up downstairs at our dorm every day. He was there for Sophie. Unlike us, whose relationship ended due to amnesia, she remembered her relationship and was having a hard time moving on. Liam tried every trick to cheer her up. I saw them when I was coming back from the library. Liam handed Sophie a bag of roasted chestnuts and some artisanal pastries that supposedly required a three-hour wait. He comforted her gently: “Don’t be sad. Tomorrow I’ll take you to the arcade.” “We’ll win as many Cinnamoroll plushies as you want.” The next second, he looked up and saw me walking toward them. The hallway lights were bright. I couldn’t see his expression clearly against the backlight, but I felt him stiffen. Probably because we just broke up. Even though we were now strangers, less than friends. Sophie, on the other hand, walked over with red eyes. She must have been crying, but she still forced a brave smile for me: “Sarah, don’t misunderstand. There’s nothing going on between me and Liam. Once he gets his memory back, everything will be fine. He’s just helping me distract myself from the breakup.” This wasn’t the first time she’d said this to me. Even though I always replied calmly: “It’s fine. I don’t remember anyway, and we broke up.” Next time we met, she’d say it again, as if convinced we would definitely regain our memories and get back together. She would even sigh enviously: “I wish I had amnesia like you guys. Then I wouldn’t be so heartbroken.” She was heartbroken. So much so that she went out drinking right after the breakup. Once, at a bar, she saw her ex celebrating a friend’s birthday and mistook the friend for a new girlfriend. She caused a scene. When the guy yelled at her, Liam rushed in and started a fight. Bottles smashed, cake flew everywhere. Liam ruined someone’s birthday party and got his face cut by a shard of glass. Seeing the wound on his face, I was horrified and lost control, blurting out: “Liam, can you stop being so impulsive?!” He wiped the blood off his face, not caring at all: “If I’m not impulsive, they’ll bully Sophie. That scumbag deserved it. Sophie is so sad, why does he get to celebrate happily?” I thought he was unreasonable, but I still softened my voice and begged: “Next time, be careful not to hurt your face, okay?” These were events I read about in my diary. I’ve always kept a diary. It also recorded how, shortly after we started dating, we walked past a row of claw machines after a movie. I excitedly wanted to win a Butter Puppy plushie. Liam kept his hands in his pockets, looking bored, and said: “Too childish. Claw machines are for kids.” But now, he was telling Sophie he’d take her to the arcade and win her tons of Cinnamorolls. I guess amnesia changed his perspective. Just like my diary mentioned him saying that waiting three hours for overly sweet pastries wasn’t worth it. I never got that Butter Puppy, and I never tasted those pastries. I didn’t know if he meant the pastries weren’t worth it. Or the person. 3 Liam didn’t like these conversations between Sophie and me. She said there was nothing between them. I said we were long broken up. Every time, Liam would interrupt unhappily: “A love that can be forgotten isn’t much of a love. Even if I remember, we won’t be together again.” Yeah. Forgotten means forgotten. Not liked enough. The past is smoke; one breath and it’s gone. Nothing to hold onto. I had no interest in their developing relationship, but I bumped into them almost every day. Junior year course load was heavy. Liam wasn’t even in our department, but he skipped his own classes every day to sit with Sophie in hers. I’m sure Liam never did that for me, because soon girls were asking Sophie: “Wow, is that your boyfriend? He’s so hot!” Sophie would wave her hands, smiling, explaining while the light in Liam’s eyes dimmed: “No, no, we’re just friends.” The girls would say “Oh~” suggestively, looking back and forth between them. “Friends…” They didn’t say the rest, but everyone was imagining it. What kind of friend skips class every day to sit with you? Buys your favorite bubble tea every time? Eats with you after class? Specifically sits between you and other guys? Even when it rained, he got soaked protecting her from the water. Which led directly to a fever and a cold. So the next day, when he accompanied Sophie to class, he was lying on the desk, groggy and sick. During the break, he suddenly groaned hoarsely: “Sarah, I feel terrible…” The voice wasn’t loud, but it was abrupt. People around us turned to look at me, sitting in the back row. Even Sophie asked him nervously: “Liam, did… did you remember?” My pen stopped. I looked up, then down. A long time later, I heard him whisper: “Dizzy. My head is foggy.” Maybe he really was foggy. Because when I went to the infirmary at noon to buy Vitamin C and saw him getting an IV drip, the first thing he said when he saw me through his exhaustion was: “Shrimp and vegetable porridge again?” We both froze. I knew why he said that. My diary recorded that whenever he was sick, I brought him shrimp and vegetable porridge and ate with him. He had frowned once and asked helplessly: “Change the flavor next time.” I smiled and agreed softly, but next time, I still bought shrimp and vegetable. Eventually, he got used to it. But now, he blurted it out while having amnesia. In the silence, his gaze moved to my empty hands. He seemed to wake up, realizing his mistake. Under my slightly surprised gaze, he said stiffly: “Don’t misunderstand. I didn’t get my memory back. I just… habit of thought. Yeah, maybe it happened before.” I didn’t care about his stumbling explanation. I smiled indifferently, said “No misunderstanding,” and left the infirmary with my vitamins. His gaze lingered on my back for a long time. I didn’t look back. My phone buzzed in my pocket. Reminder for my tutoring gig. Math, physics, chem for a high schooler. I rushed over with my lesson plans. As soon as I walked in, the student ran out of the study to greet me: “Miss Sarah!” A second later, another figure walked out of the study. Elegant, tall, holding a test paper. His gaze landed on my face without hesitation. Our eyes met, and my smile froze. The student excitedly told me: “Miss Sarah, this is the cousin I told you about with the terrible grades, Chen. He just got back from abroad today.” She turned to him proudly: “This is the teacher I told you about, Sarah. She’s amazing. She goes to the university I dream of getting into.” Chen stood by the door, one hand in his pocket, looking relaxed. After hearing the intro, he looked at me with a half-smile: “Teacher Sarah…” “Long time no see.” 4 It had been a long time since we parted before college entrance exams. Long enough that I thought I’d never see him again. My high school deskmate—Chen. The impression was too deep. Back then, his terrible grades stuck out like a sore thumb in the advanced class at City High. His personality was cold and jerky. For a long time, I thought he was useless except for his face. Until one day after PE class, I accidentally got locked in the equipment room. As Friday evening approached, the school emptied out. I tried climbing the high windows repeatedly but failed. Just as I was curling up in a darkening corner, hopeless, the door was kicked open. Light poured in. Slowly revealing Chen’s silhouette. I had to admit, in that moment, backlit and glowing, he looked like a god descending from heaven. I stood up and thanked him earnestly. He walked closer, smiling down at me: “Verbal thanks aren’t enough, Student Sarah. I plan to demand repayment for my kindness.” It wasn’t an unacceptable demand. Just tutoring. When we first started school, I saw him frustrated over a test score of 15/100 and kindly offered to explain the questions. Back then, he just looked at me coldly and said: “Mind your business. Who wants to listen to you?” But the next time he encountered the same type of question, he remembered to use the method I mentioned. However, his defensiveness was strong. No matter how kind and enthusiastic I was, I eventually retreated. I didn’t expect him to ask for help now. At least he had ambition. We got closer through tutoring. In those youthful days of burying our heads in books, my life seemed to consist only of schoolwork and Chen. Once, I got sick and was hospitalized. My parents were busy with work and couldn’t come. The person who showed up in my ward was Chen. I lay in bed, looking at him with his backpack slung over one shoulder, surprised: “Did you skip class?” He raised an eyebrow at me: “Is that weird?” True. Skipping class used to be his daily routine. He stopped because of the tutoring, so I had forgotten. Seeing I was silent, he took off his bag and said leisurely: “I’m not here for a lecture, Teacher Sarah.” I was shocked and accused him: “Chen, are you an evil capitalist? I’m sick and you want me to work? This is exploitation!” He chuckled and pulled a takeout box from his bag. Suddenly serious, his voice softened: “Yeah. Compensation for exploitation.” It was shrimp and vegetable porridge. The ward was quiet. Soft sunset light filtered through the window. He ate porridge with me, slowly. I held my spoon and tilted my head, smiling at him: “Thank you, Chen.” The only person who came to visit me. The taste of quiet days makes you think the future is long. But change always comes suddenly. Before the college entrance exams, a criminal my dad had arrested was released. Seeking revenge, he deliberately tried to hit me with a car. At the critical moment, Chen pushed me away. In the chaos, I threw myself next to his bloodied body, afraid to touch him. I only remember through my blurred vision, he seemed to use his last bit of strength to twitch his lips: “Don’t cry. Wait for me to wake up and demand repayment!” I didn’t wait. Because he completely disappeared from my life. The medical staff told me his family took him away. I knew it. Entering the advanced class with bottom-tier grades, the respectful attitude of the homeroom teacher… the distance between us was so vast I could never cross it. It was fine. He would have better medical resources. I just had some regrets. I hadn’t properly said thank you yet. A life debt. How did he want me to repay him back then?

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Chapter 1 My best friend and I were bound by the same System. Her mission: Seduce the stoic, ascetic heir, Ethan, and break his composure. My mission: Capture the heart of my cold, adopted guardian, Julian. But Ethan spent his days meditating and ignoring worldly desires, treating her like air. And Julian was still hung up on his “one that got away,” treating me like a child for three years, never seeing me as a woman. After being tortured emotionally for too long, I decided to give up. “I’m so tired. I’m quitting. What about you?” I asked her. “If you quit, I quit.” We hit it off instantly. We pulled out our phones, calculated our savings, and prepared to take the money and run. “But… which one of us dies first?” “Whoever dies first goes home first. The survivor has to clean up the mess and handle the funeral.” We looked at each other. Chloe raised her hand first. “I suffered the most. I’ll die first.” “No way. Rock, paper, scissors. I can’t stay in this hellhole a second longer.” “Fine. Rock, paper, scissors.” Chloe threw scissors. I threw paper. She won. I stomped my foot in frustration. “Fine. You die first. I’ll collect your body.” … For the next two days, Chloe didn’t contact me. I was curious about how she planned to end it. That evening, just as I was about to call her, she called me. “Sarah…” Her voice was sluggish, slurred, and mixed with the rushing sound of wind. “Are you drunk?” My heart tightened. “Just a little,” she hiccuped, speaking in fragments. “Liquid courage… I’m going to do something big!” I jumped off the sofa. “I thought we agreed on next Friday?” Chapter 2 The plan was for her to leave in seven days, and I would follow after handling her affairs. “I don’t want to wait,” her voice was scattered by the wind. “Today is perfect. I want to die today.” “Sarah, I wanted to see Ethan one last time… I’ve been with him for three years. I know what position he wants just by a look… I’m so unwilling to let go…” “He’s having dinner with his first love… he won’t answer my calls…” “Three years… even a dog would wag its tail at me by now…” “But he still doesn’t like me…” “Ethan, that bastard, won’t even give me a minute on the phone… Since today is Bella’s birthday, I’ll make it my death day. I’ll make sure he never forgets today as long as he lives.” She rambled, her logic messy, but her intent clear. She wanted to leave tonight. She wanted to hear Ethan’s voice one last time. But he didn’t give her the chance. I couldn’t accept it. I wasn’t ready for her to leave yet. I grabbed my phone and ran out the door, my voice trembling. “Chloe, where are you? Wait for me. Let me be with you, okay?” “Sarah…” She ignored me, speaking to herself. “Jumping off a building is messy. You need to find the best mortician to do my makeup.” “And don’t bury me. I’m scared of the dark. Cremate me and scatter me in the bay. Make sure Ethan never finds me.” Chapter 3 Every word she spoke was a needle in my heart. I felt Chloe’s pain as if it were my own. I had watched her suffer all these years. I was shivering, but I forced myself to sound calm. “I’ll do whatever you want. But you have to tell me where you are. I want to be with you.” “No. I don’t want you to see… it’ll scare you…” The line went silent, leaving only the harsh sound of the wind. I searched the streets like a madwoman, screaming her name. Until my legs gave out and I fell hard onto the pavement. “Sarah, I’ll wait for you at home.” That was the last thing Chloe said. Thud— At the foot of the Jinmao Apartment complex, I watched Chloe fall. Like a broken butterfly, dropping from the eighteenth floor. Blood stained the ground red. Chloe died right before my eyes. I knelt helplessly beside her, touching her face, shaking and sobbing. “You loved being beautiful… how could you choose this way to go…” Even though I knew Chloe wasn’t truly dead—that we would meet again in our original world—seeing this broke me. I had overestimated my endurance and underestimated her weight in my heart. For three years, we relied on each other to survive the lonely nights of rejection. At the crematorium, I personally pushed her body into the furnace. I watched the flames swallow the smile she once wore. When the staff handed me the small urn, my tears broke free again. “Chloe… how did you become so small…” Chapter 4 I followed her wishes and scattered her ashes into the bay. The turbulent water swept everything away instantly. Just like her. Gone without a trace. “Wait for me… I’ll be there soon.” I whispered to the river. In my bag, Chloe’s phone suddenly buzzed. I picked it up. A message from Ethan. [Tonight, 8 PM. Wait for me at the Peninsula Hotel.] I laughed coldly at the screen. He was always like this. Never caring about Chloe’s feelings. He treated her like a tool to be summoned and dismissed at will. When he didn’t need her, he disappeared. When he did, she had to be there. But why? Just because she loved him, did she deserve to be trampled on? I didn’t reply. I turned the phone off. He missed his chance to see her one last time. Let him live with that regret forever. Chapter 5 I sat by the river until dawn before going home. The morning sun hit me, but I felt no warmth. I was exhausted, body and soul. The System required me to maintain the persona of a devoted lover. So in the past, no matter how ugly things got between us the day before, I would wake up at 6 AM to prepare breakfast for Julian. The System always comforted me: suffer now, enjoy later. After the conquest is successful, a man like Julian will spoil you rotten. But for three years, I tasted only bitterness, never sweetness. Now that my best friend’s affairs were settled, it was time for me to go. I picked up the fruit knife on the table and pressed it against my wrist. But I hesitated. I gestured a few times, then put the knife down. Julian hated me so much. If I died in his house, he would probably find it disgusting. He used to say I didn’t deserve the surname Shen. He said his brother shouldn’t have adopted me. That I was an ungrateful animal for falling in love with my own guardian. He said I deserved to be abandoned, deserved to be unwanted trash. But being abandoned wasn’t my fault. If I had a choice, I wouldn’t want to be a Shen either. But no one ever gave me a choice. Even binding with the System was forced upon me. I sighed and collapsed onto the bed. I accidentally fell asleep. In my daze, the System’s cold notification sound rang out. [Sarah Shen, your points are maxed out. The exit channel is open. Please prepare to leave by tomorrow evening.] I nodded in my mind. “Okay. I’m going home.” I woke up with a start. Overnight, I cleared everything related to me out of the villa. Braving the heavy rain, I threw it all into the dumpster outside. The rain washed everything away, including my last lingering attachment to Julian. From now on, this villa would hold no trace of me.

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Chapter 1 The year my boyfriend was dead broke, I started seeing a millionaire. One year later, my ex topped the Forbes list. The first thing he did was video call me on a live variety show. Seeing me splitting a cup of instant noodles into two meals, he smugly pulled a delicate, innocent-looking girl into his arms. “If you had just stuck with me for one more month, you would have been the wife of a billionaire. Regret it?” I grinned. “Wow, that rich? Venmo me $50k to prove it.” He scoffed and ended the call. My phone pinged. $50,000 received. I video called him back immediately. “Damn, you’re legit! Send another $50k!” “Keep dreaming!” Just as he was about to hang up, I tapped the camera lens with my hand—bruised purple and blue from IV needles. “Haha, just kidding. I don’t want your money.” “I’m already dead…” My smile faded. I reached up and pulled off my waist-length hair, revealing a completely bald head. I waved at the camera, smiling again. “By the time you see this recording, I’ll already be in another world. “But this means, Lucas, you made it! “I knew you could do it! Haha~ “Are you confused? I knew the first thing you’d do when you got rich was come back to mock me. Am I right or am I right?” Lucas shot up from his seat. He took a step forward, then stopped, sneering at the host. “How much did she pay you to put on this show?” The host looked stunned. “Mr. Thorne, Ms. Monroe’s will stated that if you ever contacted her, we were to play this recording.” “Will?” Lucas laughed in anger. “A woman who loves money as much as she does? She wouldn’t die before she spent every penny! Is this a pity play to get back with me?” He grabbed the hand of the girl next to him, Emily. “Sorry, she abandoned me at my lowest. Now…” He glanced coldly at the screen. “She doesn’t deserve to stand by my side.” “Lucas, I know you hate me.” In the moment he turned away, my voice continued from the screen. “Since leaving you, I haven’t lived well. So don’t worry. “If you’re still angry, take this recording of my final days as your revenge. Or, you know, just don’t watch it. That’s fine too. “Oh, and… Congratulations!” Lucas turned back. On the screen, the documentation of my days from leaving him to my death began to play. 2 [March 12, 2024 — I’ll Come Back as a Puppy] “Last meal with Mom.” I waved at the GoPro in my hand, whispering. Behind me, in our old house, Mom was dumping dumplings into a pot of boiling water. “Why didn’t Lucas come back with you? You two usually come home together.” I choked up for a second. Then I smiled at the camera. “He’s… a bit busy.” “Oh, you scared me. I thought you two had a fight.” I silently ate Mom’s pork and celery dumplings. I gave her a thumbs-up while suppressing the urge to vomit. When she went to the kitchen, I spat a mouthful of blood mixed with dumpling filling into the trash can. I quickly covered it with tissues. Wiping my mouth, I smiled apologetically at the camera. “Stomach cancer really sucks. Sorry about that.” “Sweetie, your hair…” Mom came back and noticed my wig. I quickly pressed it down. “Mom, I took a role as a cancer patient. I’m method acting! Look, I shaved my head for it.” Mom laughed, shaking her head. I raised the camera to frame both of us. “Quick! Record Bald Daughter! Once this role is over, you won’t see this look again!” The camera captured our smiling faces. My arm holding the camera didn’t come down for a long time. Mom nudged me. “What are you doing? Doesn’t your arm hurt?” I slowly lowered my arm, staring at Mom’s smile on the screen. “Mom, if I really left, what would you do?” Mom froze. I hugged her arm, leaning on her shoulder. “Hey, Mom, I was thinking… if I suddenly turned into a cockroach, would you recognize me?” Mom chuckled. “What kind of nonsense is in that head of yours?” I looked thoughtful. “True, cockroaches are gross. How about a puppy? A Golden Retriever! Smart, and you can hug me in the winter to stay warm. “I promise not to pee on the bed! I’ll be good!” Mom patted my hand. “Even if you turn into a cockroach, Mom will recognize you. “Mom will buy you big cookies and cakes, and you can eat as much as you want.” I laughed out loud. Until tears streamed down my face. When Mom went to wash the dishes, I went into her bedroom. I put a debit card with all my earnings from years of bit-part acting into her copy of The Heart. I wrote the password on it. Then I added a note: [Mom, I’ll come back as a puppy to see you.] Tears hit the floor. I whispered: “I really want to come back as a puppy…” 3 [April 1, 2024 — April Fool’s, No One Pranked Me] “What do you mean Mom is gone?!” In the video, neighbors were holding me back, stopping me from rushing toward the man in the white coat. “Luna, calm down!” Mrs. Miller from next door held me tight. “Your mom didn’t tell you because she didn’t want you to worry! Seeing you like this would break her heart!” I looked at her with red eyes. “You knew?” I looked at all the neighbors. “Did you all know?!” They lowered their heads. “Luna… you and Lucas are struggling in the city. It’s a hard time. If you knew, all your hard work would have gone to medical bills. Your mom thought about that, that’s why she made us hide it…” I shook my head, tears falling. “Lies… you’re all lying to me!” I grabbed Mrs. Miller’s hand. “Today is April First… April Fool’s Day! You’re pranking me, right? Tell me it’s a prank!” Mrs. Miller started crying. “Luna…” I fell to my knees, my tears hitting the concrete. “Mom!!” April 1st. April Fool’s Day. I lost my mother. And the worst part was… No one was pranking me. I stumbled home holding her urn. The house was still tidy, just as Mom kept it. If not for the thin layer of dust on the table, I would have thought she still lived here. Next to The Heart on the bookshelf, another book was pulled out halfway. I opened it. A bankbook fell out. Along with a note in Mom’s handwriting: **[Mom’s savings are all here. My precious daughter and Lucas, don’t suffer in the big city. Mom is going down to set up our new home.]** I don’t know how I made it back to Beijing. For half a month, I was a zombie. Walking back from the hospital with painkillers, I didn’t even feel the rain on my face. Until I bumped into someone. I scrambled to pick up their ID card. “Sorry, sorry…” I froze when I saw the name “Lucas Thorne.” 4 [April 8, 2024 — I Wanted to Come Back Too] “Luna Monroe?” Lucas was wearing a decent suit now. My faded jeans and patched jacket looked pathetic next to him. His smile was one of relief and mockery. “You look rough. Did your rich boyfriend dump you?” I looked up. My red-rimmed eyes met his, and his smile froze. I handed him his ID and turned to leave. “Luna!” He grabbed me. “I… I started making money.” I knew. I smiled anyway. “Really? Congratulations.” He gripped my hand tighter, his eyes reddening. “I mean, if you can’t make it out there, come back!” “I’m fine, I…” I clutched the painkillers in my pocket. “I’m doing great.” “Are you?” He forcibly lifted my hand, revealing the plastic ring on my ring finger. Three years ago, he had five dollars in his pocket. He spent two on a pair of these toy rings, put one on my finger, and swore he’d buy me a two-million-dollar diamond ring one day. “Don’t tell me that rich guy can’t even afford a real ring for you!” He gritted his teeth. I noticed he was wearing the matching plastic ring on his hand. We had laughed and sworn back then that there would be no one else in this life. Our eyes met. A flicker of hope appeared in his. The next second, I ripped the ring off and threw it into the sewer grate. Snap. “Luna!” His voice broke, mixed with anger and the sound of rain. I cried silently and kept walking, never looking back. But my stubbornness didn’t last long. That night, I went back to the same spot in the pouring rain, holding an umbrella. Soda tab? No… Rubber band? No… Where was my ring? I threw the umbrella away and dug into the mud with both hands. Dizzy. Nauseous. But… I couldn’t lose it… A bark caught my attention. I crawled over. Right where the puppy was standing, I dug the piece of plastic out of the sludge. I raised a hand to pet the dog. Thud. I collapsed into the mud. 5 [April 9, 2024 — Puppy Love] “My god! Do you have a death wish?!” My best friend, Jenny, scolded me with dark circles under her eyes. “I flew all the way back from overseas to take care of you, and the first thing I see is you passed out in a flowerbed! “Wake up! You’re sick! It was a storm last night! A huge storm!” I grinned weakly. “But you found me, didn’t you?” “Ta-da!” Jenny held up a Golden Retriever puppy. “Coincidence or what? Last night this puppy ran out, grabbed my pant leg, and dragged me right to you!” I sat up abruptly. This… wasn’t this the puppy that showed me the ring last night? “Mom?” Jenny froze. “Luna, what did you say?” I wiped my tears and smiled. “Nothing. I saw it wrong.” We adopted the puppy. It was nice. Jenny was back. Suddenly, I had two family members again. Jenny became the one holding the camera, recording my days. For some reason, I craved dumplings. Pork and celery. Takeout didn’t taste right. Under Jenny’s supervision, I tried to recreate Mom’s recipe. Clang! The salt shaker fell over. The puppy stood in front of it, tongue out, grinning at me. “Oops! I forgot the salt!” I hugged the puppy and kissed her head. “How did you know?!” That night, I finally tasted the familiar flavor. Actually, I put too much salt. But the puppy and Jenny ate it anyway, whining and complaining the whole time.

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In the fifth year of our marriage, a third person entered the picture between my husband, the diplomat Jerry Lembeck, and me. His new protégé, Rosie. “She took three days on a translation brief that should’ve taken a few hours. She’s hopelessly incompetent!” “I don’t know what the higher-ups were thinking, saddling a diplomat with a college intern!” Jerry, who always prided himself on his unshakable composure, became an irritable, frustrated mentor whenever Rosie was involved. Driven by a sense of duty, Jerry was constantly cleaning up Rosie’s messes, often berating the young woman to the point of tears. I didn’t think much of it, until the day we were at an art exhibition. He pointed at a sculpture of a goofy-looking goose and chuckled. “Hahaha, that’s Rosie to a T. Yesterday, she insisted on eating ice cream even though she was on her period. Such a glutton!” My brow twitched. “How do you know she was on her period?” … 1 The smile on Jerry’s face froze for a second before he nonchalantly explained. “Oh, I was helping her with a spreadsheet yesterday and saw a box of tampons on her desk.” I bit my lip, a sour taste filling my mouth. Jerry was a career man, through and through. When he worked, he was completely focused. The fact that he’d notice a detail like that was unsettling. I said nothing. Jerry, lost in his own world, snapped a picture of the goose and sent it to a group chat. “This is so Rosie. I have to send this to the group and roast her for it.” “She’s a total noob but thinks she’s a pro.” Hearing gaming slang come out of Jerry’s mouth was so jarring I thought I’d misheard him. As the youngest and most ambitious diplomat in his division, Jerry never allowed himself to get sucked into online distractions. “You’ve started playing video games?” I asked, surprised. He shook his head casually. “No, that’s Rosie. She’s the gamer, always talking in that kid slang.” I spoke calmly. “If you know it’s ‘kid slang,’ then you probably shouldn’t be using it, right?” Jerry’s hand, busy texting, paused. He looked up at me, his brow furrowed. “Are you angry?” “Rosie’s my intern, Elara. She’s just a kid. Why are you getting worked up over her?” I almost laughed. “She’s twenty years old.” “And I don’t think it’s normal for my husband to constantly bring up another adult woman.” Jerry just stood there, dumbfounded for a moment, before a patronizing smile spread across his face. He cupped my face in his hands and gave me a kiss. “My darling Elara, you’re so beautiful when you’re jealous.” “Don’t worry. Don’t overthink it. Rosie is just my intern, nothing more. If you don’t like her, I’ll never mention her in front of you again, okay?” For the next two months, the name “Rosie” truly vanished from my world. Jerry reverted to the composed, unreadable diplomat he’d always been, his mind consumed by work. He practically lived at the office. “Elara, I have to work late tonight. Go to bed early.” I looked at the candlelit dinner I had painstakingly prepared, a hollow feeling echoing in my chest. Then I saw the bottle of antacids on the table, and my heart clenched. Jerry had a sensitive stomach. A flare-up during a late night at work would be awful. The early winter night was frigid. I stood outside Jerry’s office door in my thin silk pajamas, shivering, a container of food in one hand and his medication in the other. Inside, Jerry was laughing with a young woman. His hand rested casually on her shoulder, his face relaxed and joyful in a way I hadn’t seen in years. “Rosie, I’m serious, you need to lay off the junk food. It’s terrible for your stomach.” The girl winked playfully and, as Jerry opened his mouth to speak, shoved a piece of her hamburger right into it. “Mentor, it’s really, really good. Just try it~” Her eyes sparkled with bright anticipation. Jerry stared at her for a few seconds, hesitated, and then actually began to chew. I clutched the box of medicine in my hand so tightly I almost crushed it, fighting the urge to storm in. Jerry’s stomach was incredibly fragile; his diet was always meticulously controlled. Yet here he was, risking a painful episode because he couldn’t bring himself to refuse his little intern. He swallowed with some difficulty and gave her a confirming smile. “Delicious.” “Hehe, see? I told you! No one can resist the allure of a burger!” Jerry chuckled, then his expression turned serious. “Don’t get cocky. If I wasn’t here helping you with your files, I’d be home having dinner with my wife right now.” His tone was stern, but laced with an undercurrent of indulgence I couldn’t miss. The girl put her hands together and bowed playfully. “Aww, my mentor is the bestest!” The sight of their chummy “mentor-protégé” dynamic was a physical pain in my eyes. I opened my chat with Jerry and slowly typed out a single line. “Do you remember what today is?” Jerry looked at his phone. The smile vanished from his face, replaced by a slight frown. “Elara, be good. I’ll make up for our fifth-anniversary gift later.” Ha. So he did remember. I dragged my frozen body away, dumping the food and medicine into the nearest trash can. Once I was out of the building, I sent Jerry one last message. “Divorce.” 2 After sending the message, I put my phone on Do Not Disturb, took a sleeping pill, and slept soundly through the night. The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was Jerry, sitting by the bed, his eyes webbed with red veins. “You’re awake?” “Mmm.” I stretched languidly, which only made Jerry’s frown deepen. “You’re going to divorce me just because I worked late and didn’t spend the evening with you?” “Elara, you know how stressful my job is. Can you please stop with these jokes?” I opened my mouth to tell him about Rosie, then decided against it. It was pointless. He’d know I wasn’t joking when the divorce papers arrived at his office. Half an hour later, Jerry was called away. The divorce papers I’d sent caused an uproar at the State Department. Everyone knew Jerry and I had always been the picture of a happy couple. And everyone knew that Jerry and Rosie had recently become inseparable. For a diplomat, marital stability was paramount; it could significantly impact their career. The following month, Ambassador Ford personally removed Jerry from the list of attendees for a major international conference. Rosie clutched at the sleeve of Jerry’s shirt, her face a picture of misery. “Mentor… did your wife misunderstand something about us?” “It’s all my fault. I’m just so stupid, I can’t do anything right. Maybe I should go apologize to her.” Jerry waved a dismissive hand, sighing in frustration. “Don’t worry about it. She’s prone to these little tantrums. She would never actually divorce me.” But as he looked down, his eyes caught the empty medicine box in the trash can. In an instant, everything clicked into place. When Jerry’s mother heard, she called me, her voice filled with sincere apologies, begging me to forgive him for the sake of our eight years together. “Elara, dear, I promise you, this will never happen again.” “Ambassador Ford himself is looking into this. If you divorce Jerry now, his entire future will be ruined!” My own parents were gone, and Jerry’s mother had always treated me like her own daughter. I couldn’t ignore her plea. That evening, right in front of me, Jerry reassigned Rosie to another mentor and deleted all of her contact information. He held up three fingers and swore an oath. “Elara, I’m sorry. I was careless and I hurt you.” “I promise, I will never neglect you for another woman again.” His expression was solemn, as earnest as the day he first confessed his love for me. My eyes stung. I stepped out onto the balcony to take a call. “I’m fine, Uncle Ford. I know how to handle things with Jerry.” The New Year passed peacefully. Perhaps out of guilt, Jerry threw me an incredibly elaborate birthday party. Flowers, candles, stuffed animals, a towering cake… He smiled at me, his eyes filled with love and conviction. “Happy birthday, Elara. Make a wish.” I clasped my hands together and closed my eyes. The romantic atmosphere made me feel, for a moment, as if I had never lost his love. When I opened my eyes, Jerry was just putting his phone down, a worried look briefly crossing his face. “What’s wrong?” He smiled and shook his head. “Nothing, just a little work thing. Today is all about my princess Elara’s birthday. No one is allowed to interrupt.” I smiled back without a word and began to eat my cake. But Jerry glanced at his phone ten times in the next five minutes. Finally, he couldn’t sit still any longer. He stood up, his face a mask of apology and urgency. “I’m so sorry, Elara. There’s an error in a critical document, and they need it fixed right away. I have to go take care of it.” “Be good, Elara. I’ll be back as soon as I’m done.” He left in such a hurry that he forgot his work laptop. I casually opened it. A message from Rosie had just popped up. “Mentor, where are you? sniffle sniffle I’m so scared.” 3 My heart slammed against my ribs as if struck by a sledgehammer. Jerry. He had broken his promise. Once again, he had abandoned me for Rosie. I clicked open the chat window. Five minutes ago, during the half-minute I was making my wish, Rosie had messaged him. “Mentor, what do I do? I was trying to cook at home, and the pan caught on fire!” Jerry had rapidly typed out instructions on how to extinguish a grease fire. But she never replied. How laughable. My birthday had become a prop in a game between my husband and some other girl. I scrolled up through their chat history. I realized they had never broken off contact at all. Even though Rosie had been reassigned, she still went to Jerry with every little thing. At first, Jerry’s replies were curt and dismissive. But slowly, their conversations drifted from work to their personal lives. “Mentor, look. Does the pink dress suit me better, or the yellow one?” “You’d look beautiful in either.” “Hmph! You’re just saying that to be nice. Well, what if it were your wife wearing them? Which would be better?” Jerry was silent for a moment. “Her age isn’t suited for such… vibrant colors.” … There were countless chats just like that. I sat on the edge of the bed and read through them all night. By seven in the morning, Jerry still hadn’t come home. I clutched my empty, aching stomach. Even though I had prepared myself, I couldn’t stop the tears from falling. Because Jerry’s stomach was so sensitive, he knew better than anyone how important regular meals were. So on our wedding day, he had promised me. “Elara, no matter how busy I get with work, I will always be home before seven.” “So that when you wake up, a hot breakfast will be waiting for you.” A promise he had kept, like clockwork, for five years. Today, it was finally broken. I rubbed my throbbing temples and picked up my phone, only to see a new post from Rosie on her social media. It was a picture of a breakfast spread. A heart-shaped fried egg, sandwiches, dumplings, oatmeal with milk… The caption read: “Thanks to my amazing mentor for the lovely breakfast! You’re the best! ♡” Right. Just perfect. My eyes burned. My mind was flooded with the memory of the first time Jerry cooked for me. He was wearing an apron, the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up. The early morning sun caught the sharp angles of his face, making him so handsome it took my breath away. I’d gotten a little jealous then, my voice tinged with poutiness. “You’re so handsome when you cook. You could charm a whole army of girls.” Jerry had laughed and stroked my hair. “Silly girl. For the rest of my life, I’ll only ever cook for one person: you.” I wiped away my tears, got dressed, put on my makeup, and walked out the door. I took the divorce papers and drove to Jerry’s office myself. But the moment I got out of my car, two men cornered me. A sharp, dull pain exploded at the back of my neck, and the world went black. When I woke up, I was tied to a chair in what looked like an abandoned factory. Rosie’s cheerful voice came from above. “Awake, are we?” The young woman walked over, a curious smile on her face. It was the first time I’d seen her up close. The pink dress really did suit her. That was the first thought that popped into my head. Her skin was flawless, plump with collagen, so smooth it looked like you could squeeze water from it. The delicate pink made her look exquisite. Rosie flashed a pair of cute little canine teeth. She looked me up and down, then let out a contemptuous laugh. “I thought the woman Jerry was protecting would be special. Turns out, you’re just some old woman who can’t even have kids.” Can’t have kids? A knot of pain formed in my chest. I couldn’t believe Jerry had told her even that. Rosie pulled down the strap of her dress, revealing a prominent hickey on the smooth, white curve of her breast. “Listen, lady, if I were you, I wouldn’t be shamelessly clinging to the title of Mrs. Lembeck!” “After all, the one who isn’t loved is the real third wheel!” I scoffed. “You think the position of Mrs. Lembeck is built on nothing but my eight-year relationship with…” “Oh, spare me!” Rosie cut me off impatiently. “Don’t give me that eight-year sob story. Love has an expiration date. Otherwise, how about we make a little bet?” 4 I raised an eyebrow. “What do you want to bet?” “Let’s bet on who Jerry loves right now. Me, or you.” … When Jerry arrived, Rosie and I were both tied to chairs. The moment she saw him, she burst into hysterical tears. “Mentor! sob You’re finally here! I was so scared!” Jerry threw a bag of cash toward the men standing over us. “I brought the money! Now let them go!” One of the men checked the bag, then grinned maliciously. “The amount’s right, but you’re five minutes late. So now, this money is only enough to buy one of them back.” “You’d better think carefully. Who’s it gonna be?” Jerry froze, his face flushing with a rare, desperate anger. “No! I’m taking both of them!” The man spat on the ground. “Like hell you are! I said, this only buys you one!” “You waste any more of my time, and you’re leaving with neither!” Jerry’s fists clenched. His gaze darted first to me, then to Rosie. He was hesitating. But I was perfectly calm. It never occurred to me that Jerry would choose Rosie. On my eighteenth birthday, I was kidnapped. It was Jerry who risked his life to save me. The abuse I suffered during that time left me infertile and with deep psychological scars that took a full decade to heal. He knew how terrified I was of situations like this. “I… I choose…” “Mentor!” Jerry was pointing at me, but before he could finish, Rosie screamed. She pushed her hair aside, revealing the other side of her face. It was swollen and purple with a brutal handprint. “Mentor, I’m so scared, it hurts so much! Please, please don’t leave me! sob” Jerry’s face twisted in pain and anger. He roared at the kidnappers. “You hit her!” “She’s just a girl!” Without another moment of hesitation, he pointed at Rosie, his voice firm. “I choose her! Let her go, now!” A roaring sound filled my ears. My heart felt like it had been carved out, leaving a hollow space. I called his name instinctively. “Jerry?” He couldn’t quite meet my eyes, but his voice was as gentle as ever. “Elara, you’ve… you’ve been through this before. You’re mentally prepared. But Rosie hasn’t. It would break her.” “Don’t worry. I’ll go get the rest of the money and come right back for you. Be good.” I didn’t say a word. I just watched as Jerry untied Rosie’s ropes and cradled her head, whispering comforts. It was like watching a ghost of our past. Back then, Jerry had been just as gentle. “Shh, it’s okay. I’m here now.” Like a knight protecting his princess, he had lifted me into his arms and carried me away with steady, determined steps. The knight was the same. But he had a new princess. Rosie, nestled in Jerry’s arms, looked back over his shoulder and mouthed two words at me. “I win.” I watched until Jerry’s figure was a tiny speck in the distance before I turned my head stiffly. “The game is over. Untie me.” The two men exchanged a look. A rough hand slid up my thigh, and they laughed lewdly. “Miss Rosie said the loser has to face a penalty.” “Hey, beautiful. Your husband doesn’t appreciate you, but we sure do.” Alarm bells screamed in my head. “What do you think you’re doing? I’m warning you, don’t try anything stupid. I am…” A rough cloth was stuffed into my mouth, silencing me. “Who are you? Just some housewife living off her husband’s money? You should be grateful we’re even interested!” I tried to struggle, but my strength was draining away. … Jerry drove Rosie home, but a gnawing unease chewed at him the entire way. The image of my despairing eyes was burned into his mind. His heart ached. A sickening feeling began to creep in, the feeling that he had made the wrong choice. He quickly gathered more money and was about to race back to save me when his phone rang. “Sir, you need to see the news! It’s your wife! Something’s happened!” “Breaking news: a woman’s body has been discovered in an abandoned factory, the victim of a rape and murder. The body has sustained eighty-seven separate injuries…”

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A TV accident hospitalized superstar Scarlett Howard, revealing a secret: she wasn’t a biological Howard. I, the girl from a poor town, was the real heiress. The news exploded. The Howards welcomed me back on one condition: Scarlett and I star in a reality show. I expected a fight, but Scarlett was just obsessed with having a sister. I joined her, only to find her blinded by love for her cold fiancé, who doted on others. I went on the offensive. Scarlett was redeemed, gaining loyal fans. My design studio skyrocketed. My sweetheart, Liam, won my family over and started his company. All was well, except for Scarlett’s manipulative ex. Months later, he returned, claiming, “I see you as family, that’s why I wasn’t polite.” I feared she’d soften. Instead, she hit him with her bag. “Get away. Your germs are making my sister sick.” 1. I’d spent over two decades working my fingers to the bone in a dirt-poor small town, and then, overnight, I was transformed into Chloe Howard, the long-lost heiress to one of the wealthiest families in the city of Aurelia. The Howards descended upon my tiny design studio like a whirlwind, their tears flowing as they told me I was their real daughter. They brought me into their world, showering me with money, jewels, and property. But before the official family banquet, they made a hesitant request: they wanted me to appear on a reality show. “The show is a joint investment between our family and the Crawfords,” my new mother explained. “Your sister… Scarlett… she’s a famous actress, but her public image isn’t the best. Now that this secret is out, the online hate has gotten so much worse.” I listened, nodding along. “So, you want me to go on the show and play happy families with her? Put on a display of sisterly bonding to quiet down the media storm?” My mother looked down, shamefaced. I waved a dismissive hand. “What’s the big deal? You’ve given me a fortune in cash, jewelry, and real estate. A little reality TV? I’m definitely coming out on top here.” My mother let out a visible sigh of relief. But then, I leaned in, rubbing my hands together. “Just one question,” I whispered. “Do I get paid for this?” She blinked, and I hurried to explain. “It’s just… I’m a fresh graduate trying to get a startup off the ground. Cash is a little tight, you know?” I wasn’t lying. I was desperate for money. My design studio was brand new, only staying afloat because of the money I’d saved from part-time jobs and scholarships in college. A good chunk of it had come from my boyfriend, Liam. He was a recent graduate too, with dreams of his own. But we were both from humble beginnings, with barely two pennies to rub together. “Chloe,” he had told me, “the design industry is brutal. You’re young, you have to strike while the iron is hot. Let’s get your studio launched first. My dreams can wait.” I was a painter and a designer; my dream was to have my own fashion label. Liam was a computer science prodigy whose dream was to create a one-of-a-kind indie game. But he put his dream on hold for me. He poured every cent we had into my studio, and to give me a safety net, he chained himself to a desk job, becoming a corporate drone. So now, being a Howard… honestly, I wasn’t thinking much about family ties. I was thinking about grabbing every opportunity I could. How often does one get a chance to legally cash in without any moral strings attached? Hearing my question, my mother immediately handed me a credit card. “Chloe, there’s a million dollars on this.” My eyes widened. A million dollars! That was a number Liam and I couldn’t even fathom. “Mom, you’re literally my savior. Don’t you worry, I’ll give an Oscar-worthy performance on that show.” The words were barely out of my mouth when she handed me a second card. “I know you have a boyfriend, and that you’ve been supporting him. This is for him. Have him join you on the show. It’ll be good to have someone you trust by your side, so you won’t feel bullied.” I was so moved I could have dropped to my knees. Now Liam’s game studio could become a reality too. His dream and my dream, coming true together. Giddy with excitement, I clutched the two cards and went to call him. But as I was dialing, I saw her—the famous Scarlett Howard. She was on the phone, her eyes brimming with tears, arguing with someone. “It’s our families’ money backing this show! The Howards are major investors! I will not have you bring Amber on set!” Her voice was sharp, laced with the unshakeable authority of someone who had never been told no. I was just marveling at the sheer force of a true heiress when her tone crumbled in the next second. She was crying now. “Fine, fine, I agree, okay? Just… please, don’t talk about breaking off the engagement.” I pursed my lips. Well, damn. Looks like the princess was hopelessly in love. 2. The Howards knew what they were doing. They hyped the show by teasing the first on-air meeting between me and Scarlett. The “Real and Swapped Heiresses: First Encounter” gimmick sent the show’s popularity soaring before filming even began. As part of the strategy, they made sure Scarlett and I never met beforehand. The first time we laid eyes on each other was the day the cameras started rolling, live. The moment the broadcast went live, the viewer count skyrocketed past a hundred thousand. 【The real and fake heiresses meeting live? This is gonna be good.】 【Spicy! With Scarlett’s temper, she’s probably going to tear the new girl apart on sight.】 【A high-society catfight? I’m here for it.】 【Scarlett is 100% going to bully the real heiress.】 【Now that the real one’s back, that imposter Scarlett can finally get lost, lol.】 【Anyone who hates Scarlett is in for a treat today.】 【The Howards are probably ditching Scarlett to launch the real daughter’s career.】 【Or maybe the real one is ugly, and they’re using her as a prop to make Scarlett look better.】 The internet was a cesspool of speculation. Meanwhile, I was staring at my own reflection, feeling a little dazed. “Do I really have to dress this… cutesy?” My outfit was a full-on dopamine-dressing explosion, complete with pigtails. I wouldn’t have even dressed this young and sweet back in high school. My mother said nothing, simply adding two more adorable clips to my hair. Liam, on the other hand, couldn’t take his eyes off me. “Your mom has great taste. You look so cute,” he texted me, followed by a couple of spicy emojis. Yep. The campus legend and academic god was, in private, a total flirt. I was used to it. I stepped into the camera frame, my stomach churning with nerves. First time on TV, and a live broadcast at that. Liam took my hand and twisted the cap off a bottle of water for me. Having him there instantly calmed me down. I was taking a sip when Scarlett arrived. And she wasn’t alone. With her was her fiancé, Gunther Crawford. The Howards and the Crawfords had an arranged marriage, one of those old-family-pact things. My mother had told me Scarlett had been obsessed with Gunther since they were kids, to the point of sheer foolishness. She’d even broken into acting just to be closer to him. And standing next to Gunther was another woman, one I recognized. Amber, a rising starlet who had been making headlines lately. She was the reason Scarlett and Gunther had been fighting on the phone earlier. The three of them walking in together was like watching a soap opera unfold in real-time. As they approached, I quickly stood up to greet them. The word “Hello” was still on my lips when Amber stepped in front of me, a saccharine smile on her face. “Looks like Mrs. Howard really went all out for your big meeting. She knows how much Scarlett adores cute things, so she dressed you up like a little doll.” It sounded like a compliment, but the subtext was venomous. She was pointing out that my own mother knew Scarlett better, and was manipulating me to win Scarlett’s favor. The online comments immediately lit up, saying the Howards cared more about the fake heiress than their real daughter. Some predicted Scarlett would use this to gloat about how much our parents loved her. Others expected me to blow up and assert my rightful place. They were all wrong. Scarlett completely ignored Amber. She rushed straight toward me and cupped my face in her hands. “You must be my little sister, Chloe! Oh my god, you’re so adorable! And your cheeks are so squishy!” Liam looked pained and started to step forward, but he checked himself, realizing it wasn’t his place. His hands just fluttered uselessly in the air. But I didn’t need his help. I threw my arms around Scarlett. “Big sister, you’re so beautiful! And you smell amazing!” Hah. Sorry to disappoint anyone hoping for a catfight. I’ve always had a soft spot for gorgeous women. And Scarlett was breathtaking, like a goddess straight out of an anime. I was already smitten. 3. From that first moment, Scarlett and I were inseparable. It was Liam who finally broke our sisterly bonding session by clearing his throat and introducing himself. “I’m Liam. Chloe’s boyfriend, and her childhood sweetheart.” He said it with a chest puffed out with pride, his eyes locked on me for that last part. Scarlett’s face lit up like her favorite ship had just set sail. Completely ignoring Gunther and Amber, she grabbed my arm, her eyes sparkling with gossip. “How long have you two been together?” “How did you meet?” “How long have you known each other?” She fired off the questions, and Liam answered each one. “Chloe and I were neighbors. We’ve known each other since we were born. We started dating after high school graduation.” “Twenty-five years,” he added, “and we’ve never been apart.” Scarlett sighed, her eyes filled with envy. “That’s so lovely. Childhood sweethearts, just like us.” At that moment, Gunther finally spoke up. “Hello. I’m Gunther, and this is Amber.” I tilted my head, my expression a mask of pure innocence. “Hi! Are you two a couple, too?” It was a direct hit. Scarlett’s face darkened, but not at me. “My sister asked you a question. Are you a couple?” Amber flushed and fidgeted. Gunther just frowned. “Scarlett, don’t make a scene. You’ll give people the wrong idea.” “Oh! You’re not?” I chimed in. “My bad! You two just seemed so much closer than Liam and I, I just assumed. So sorry.” I wasn’t in the entertainment industry. I was a newcomer, the long-lost daughter who knew nothing. It was perfectly normal for me to be clueless, right? My words hit their mark. Gunther immediately took a step away from Amber, creating a very deliberate distance between them. Scarlett looked pleased, and when she turned back to me, her eyes were practically glowing. “Come on, I brought you presents! Let’s go see.” She had no time for Gunther and Amber now; her world revolved around her newfound little sister. She led me to her room and threw open a suitcase. Inside was a top-of-the-line creative suite—a powerful laptop and a professional-grade drawing tablet. “I heard you’re an artist, and that you do digital work, so I got you the best gear.” My eyes went wide. This was equipment I could only have dreamed of before. “Sister, you are officially the best big sister in the entire world. I love you to death.” My praise made her preen. If she’d had a tail, it would’ve been wagging furiously. “There’s more! These two suitcases are full of clothes, dresses, and shoes I bought for you.” She opened another suitcase, and my jaw dropped. Staring back at me was the one-of-a-kind white dress from my studio’s collection that was auctioned off just a few days ago. “Sis, you were the one who bought this dress.” I was genuinely shocked. Scarlett was even more surprised. “Wait, don’t tell me… you designed this?” I nodded, a new wave of affection washing over me as I looked at her. “Sis, you’re my soulmate.” 【Wait, this has to be scripted, right?】 【This feels so fake. Who are they trying to promote here?】 【This is NOT how this was supposed to go.】 【That dress is gorgeous! Link, please!】 【So the real heiress is a designer, and the fake one bought her design without knowing? OMG, the drama!】 【Totally scripted! 100%!】 “My little cupcake sister, you’re a genius!” Scarlett jumped to her feet and started rummaging through her purse. “Here! Beauty club memberships, gym passes, VIP cards for every top restaurant in the city, and a black card with no spending limit. They’re all yours!” I stared at the thick cardholder she shoved into my arms, my eyes practically glowing with greed. “Sister,” I breathed, “you’re a legend.” 4. For the rest of that first day of filming, my sister was practically my shadow. Even Liam started to get suspicious. “Do you think she’s just putting on a show?” he murmured to me later. “You know, all sweet for the cameras, but then she’ll turn on you when they’re off.” I smirked, gesturing vaguely toward one of the cameras. “Still live, you know.” “I never talk about people behind their backs,” Liam stated, matter-of-fact. It was true. He was brutally honest, never one for scheming or gossip. So I gave his question some serious thought. “Honestly, I think my mom just knows her really, really well.” I propped my chin in my hands, posing like a flower. “After all, who could possibly resist a cute little cupcake like me?” Liam swallowed hard, nodding emphatically. “Right. Your sister clearly has impeccable taste.” “And so does Mrs. Howard, of course.” His gaze was so intense it could have melted steel. It was obvious he was a huge fan of my new sweet-and-sassy look. I wasn’t even trying, and he was completely hooked. “But are you okay with it?” Liam asked, his voice gentle. We were always like this—no hidden feelings, no dancing around issues. We asked things directly, unwilling to let small misunderstandings fester into real problems. His eyes were soft with concern. I shook my head. “Not at all. I mean, sure, she’s my biological mother, but she spent twenty-five years raising my sister. It’s only natural they know each other inside and out. It’s just like us, right?” A faint blush crept up Liam’s neck. Just then, my sister peeked her head around the corner. “You two are so adorable together.” “I ship it so hard.” Seeing her, Liam made an excuse and slipped out. Scarlett immediately sat down in front of me. “It’s obvious he’s crazy about you.” I smiled shyly. She took my hand, her expression turning guilty. “I’m the one who should be sorry, Chloe. Your life should have been… better.” I just laughed it off. “Sis, you really don’t have to apologize. Sure, my life was tough financially, but it was happy. I mean, I met Liam, didn’t I?” He was my soulmate. I couldn’t imagine life without him, and he couldn’t imagine it without me. “I graduated from a top university, started my own studio right after… my youth was full of wonderful memories. Besides being poor, there was nothing bad about it. Being poor is only a tragedy if it makes you bitter. And trust me, I’m not bitter. I got lucky.” Scarlett pulled me into a fierce hug. “Don’t you worry. From now on, your life will be even better. Big sister’s got your back.” I nodded firmly into her shoulder. “And I’ll always have yours, sis.” That night, Scarlett and I shared a room, staying up late talking. As a result, we were both yawning our heads off when we came downstairs the next morning. Liam looked from me to her and back again. “You know, you two actually look a little alike.” “Get out of here,” I scoffed. “If I looked like my sister, I’d be drooling in my sleep every night.” Even without a stitch of makeup, Scarlett was dazzling. I had to hand it to my biological parents; they’d hit the jackpot with her. “Chloe, if you’d grown up with the Howards, with money for all the best treatments, you’d be just as beautiful,” Amber said, descending the stairs in a full face of immaculate makeup. My sister’s head snapped toward her, disgust written all over her face. “You have money for treatments, and I don’t see you turning into a supermodel.” The comeback was so brutal, I had to physically stop myself from grinning. No wonder my sister had such a bad rap in the industry. That mouth was a weapon. “Scarlett, why are you so hostile towards Amber? She was just trying to comfort your sister. Why would you attack her for that?” Gunther stepped in, defending Amber. My eyes shot wide open, and I turned to Liam. He immediately held up his hands as if taking an oath. “Just so you know, I will never defend another woman over you. I’m on your side, unconditionally. Always.”

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Anton Ryder took three bullets for me. Each one should have been fatal. He practically offered his life to my father in exchange for my hand in marriage. Seeing his raw desperation, my father finally relented, offering the Syndicate’s Patriarch’s Seal—the ultimate symbol of power—as my dowry. But the day before our wedding, war broke out on our borders. Anton had to lead the charge. Before he left, he kissed me hard. “Wait for me, my love,” he whispered. “When I come back, I promise you won’t be leaving our bed.” Three years later, he returned. I took our two-year-old son deep into the desert territories to welcome him home. But when his convoy arrived, he stepped out carrying a frail, beautiful woman in a white dress. One of his men asked what was to be done with me. Anton took a long drag from his cigarette, a lazy smile playing on his lips. “Her old man’s dead. Who else does she have to rely on but me? Besides, the Patriarch’s Seal is in my hands now. I can marry whomever I please. And anyway,” he added with a chuckle, “she’s already given me a healthy son. She’ll be begging me for a proper title soon enough.” The men around him erupted in laughter. He seemed to have forgotten one crucial detail. The Seal was merely a symbol. I am the one and only heir to the Vance family. And my son can live without a father. 1. The jeering laughter continued, only to be cut short by the woman’s soft cough. Anton’s voice was instantly laced with concern. “Sera, my love, what is it? Are you feeling unwell again? Don’t worry, I’ll have a doctor see you right away…” Seraphina shook her head. “I’m fine. It’s just… the air here. I’m not used to it yet.” “I’m so sorry, Sera. That’s my fault,” Anton said, his tone apologetic. “The air in your room is too dry, it won’t help your recovery. Don’t worry, Elara’s room is the best in the entire compound, it gets the morning sun. I’ll have her switch with you.” Seraphina demurred softly, “Wouldn’t that upset your wife?” Anton’s voice was laced with a pained tenderness. “I told you, don’t call her that in private. You’ve been my woman for a long time now.” At this, the men in the room broke into another round of lewd, knowing chuckles. Seraphina, blushing, buried her face in Anton’s chest. When Anton had carefully carried her from the vehicle, his story to me had been different. He’d claimed she was a sister he’d adopted on the road. “Elara, her entire family was captured and executed by the enemy,” he’d explained. “If she hadn’t risked her life to bring us intel, you’d be waiting for my corpse right now. She’s been frail since she was a child and suffered with me on the front lines for three years. With her family gone, I took her in as my sworn sister. You don’t mind, do you?” If she were truly just a sister, of course I wouldn’t have minded. But it was clear now. It wasn’t a sister he’d adopted, but a wife he’d already taken. Suddenly, one of the men voiced a concern. “The First Lady has always had a fiery temper, boss. She loves you so much. If she finds out, all hell is going to break loose.” Another chimed in. “Yeah, she waited three years for you. What are you going to do if she demands her title?” Seraphina’s tone was laced with worry. “He’s right, Anton. Please don’t fight with the First Lady over me. I couldn’t live with the guilt.” But Anton just laughed, completely at ease. “Don’t worry, my love. I’ve already thought of everything. She’s used to being the princess. She’ll definitely throw a fit when she finds out, and I don’t want her taking it out on you. So, here’s the plan: I’m marrying you, that’s set in stone. On the day of the wedding, I’ll announce that we’re throwing a big birthday party for our son.” “She’ll never refuse that,” he continued, a smug look on his face. “By the time the party’s over, you and I will be officially married, the papers signed. It’ll be too late for her to do anything. With a two-year-old son, she’ll have no choice but to swallow her pride and stay by my side, without a title, for the rest of her life.” His words were met with murmurs of admiration. “Brilliant, boss! Only you could think of something like that!” “No wonder you had the boss’s daughter wrapped around your finger, willing to give you a son and wait faithfully for three years!” The room exploded with laughter once more. And through it all, Seraphina’s playful voice. “Oh, Anton, you’re terrible! You had me worried for nothing!” Anton stroked her hair. “Then let me make it up to you right now.” With that, he cupped the back of her neck and crushed his lips to hers. I turned away in silence. The old me would have kicked down the door, smashed everything in sight, and put a gun to Seraphina’s head, forcing her to kneel, apologize, and get the hell out. But motherhood had changed me. The sand you can’t hold, you let fall. The people by your side are what matter most. As the Vance heiress, my life has always been shadowed by danger. Anton had saved me countless times, taking bullets to his waist, his chest, even the back of his head. Each time, covered in his own blood, he would hold me tight and soothe me. “Don’t be afraid, Elara. I’m here. Anyone who wants to touch you will have to step over my dead body.” He loved me more than his own life. Or so I believed. But not all truths are meant to last forever. As I turned to leave, the door behind me creaked open. Anton’s voice, sharp with panic. “Elara?” “When did you get here?” 2. I didn’t turn around. My own voice was unnervingly calm. “Just now.” Anton let out a quiet sigh of relief. He stepped forward, pulling me into his arms, his voice a low whisper in my ear. “Elara, I’ll come to you tonight. I’ve thought of you every single night for these past three years.” I didn’t move, didn’t respond. He must have sensed my coldness, because his voice became cautious. “Elara, what’s wrong? Aren’t you happy I’m back?” I was about to push him away when a delicate female voice cut through the air. Seraphina coughed into her hand. “Oh, sister-in-law, you’re here. My health is so poor, that’s the only reason my brother came to check on me. Please, don’t get the wrong idea.” At the sound of her voice, Anton immediately released me. The concern in his eyes was unmistakable. “The wind is strong out here. What are you doing outside?” Seraphina stepped toward us. “I heard your wife’s voice, so I wanted to come and say hello. Please don’t mind him, sister-in-law. He’s always been a worrier. He took care of me personally for the last three years, it’s just instinct now.” She wore a mask of sincerity. I looked at her pale face. “The Vance family can afford to feed another mouth. But we don’t shelter vipers.” Her smile froze. Anton’s brow furrowed, his voice a low growl. “Elara! She’s my sister, which makes her your sister too. Watch your mouth.” I gave him a cool glance. “I’ve always been abrasive, haven’t I?” His jaw worked, but before he could retort, Seraphina leaned weakly against the doorframe, her voice trembling with hurt. “Sister-in-law, I know you hate me, but I never wanted to take anything from you… I’m just… I’m so weak, I need my brother to look after me…” “He’s been by my side day and night. I understand why you’re angry. If you don’t like me here… I’ll just leave.” With that, she turned and staggered away. Anton shot me a furious glare and immediately chased after her. “Sera, don’t run! Your body can’t take the strain! I’m in charge of the Vance family now, you don’t have to listen to a word she says! Sera!” The two of them disappeared around the corner of the courtyard. Just as Seraphina turned the corner, my son, Leo, came toddling out, running right into her legs. Seraphina cried out, her foot slipped, and she crumpled to the ground. Anton knelt and swept her into his arms. “Sera, are you alright?” She lifted the hem of her skirt. A gash on her shin was bleeding freely. Rage contorted Anton’s face. He whirled on Leo. “Who told you to run around like that! Get out of my sight!” Leo burst into tears. “Mama… I want my mama…” I rushed forward, pulling him into my arms and kneeling to soothe him. “It’s okay, Leo, Mommy’s here. Don’t cry, it wasn’t your fault. Don’t be scared, Mommy’s got you.” The nanny who had been chasing him finally caught up, breathless. “First Lady, the young master was crying for you, I couldn’t stop him…” My voice was ice. “It’s fine. It’s not your fault. The staff in this house usually know how to watch where they’re going.” Anton’s voice was a cold accusation. “Is this how you raise our son? No wonder he’s so unruly!” Seraphina leaned against Anton, her voice faint. “Brother, Leo is just a child, don’t scare him… I only fell and bled a little. I’m used to being hurt.” Then she looked up at me, her eyes filled with a tragic sorrow. “Sister-in-law, it was my fault. You were right to scold me. I wasn’t looking where I was going and ran into the young master. I’ll apologize to him.” She struggled to get up from Anton’s arms, crying out in pain at the slightest movement. Anton’s face filled with anguish. He scooped her up. “What are you apologizing for? If anyone’s to blame, it’s me. I’m his father, and I failed to teach him properly.” He looked at me and Leo with cold eyes. “Leo, I wasn’t here to raise you. But Elara, as his mother, you bear the most responsibility! I can’t trust you to raise him alone. You’ll only teach him your bad habits. Now that Sera is here, she can help. She’s well-mannered, gentle, and kind. She can teach Leo to be a good man.” My voice was dangerously low. “What are you saying?” Anton’s expression was grim. “I’m saying Leo will be raised by Sera from now on. You can go back to being the First Lady of the Vance Syndicate.” “In your dreams!” I spat. Anton’s tone was absolute. “I am the head of this family. I have that right. More importantly, Leo is my son. As his father, my right is absolute.” He set Seraphina down and roughly grabbed Leo. “A man takes responsibility for his actions. He must be punished.” “Now, you will kneel and apologize to your Aunt Sera!” He pressed down on Leo’s small shoulders, trying to force him to his knees… 3. Leo screamed, struggling wildly. “No! I want Mommy! I want Mommy!” My fists clenched. I couldn’t hold back any longer. I yelled for the house steward, snatched the pistol from his holster, and pressed the cold barrel against Anton’s forehead. My hand was perfectly steady. “Anton, you lay another finger on my son, and I swear I will kill you.” He sneered. “You’re pointing a gun at me with the skills I taught you?” He grabbed my hand, forcing the muzzle of the gun harder against his own temple. “Right here. Do it. Don’t go soft on me now. My body has room for another bullet for you.” I stared into his blazing eyes, my finger tightening on the trigger. “Fine. Then I’ll grant you your wish…” Before I could finish, Seraphina threw herself between us, shoving me hard. She crumpled to the ground, sobbing. “No! First Lady, please, don’t hurt him! Whatever he’s done wrong, take it out on me!” “My life is worthless,” she cried, “but Anton has to lead the entire Syndicate! His life is more important!” Anton ignored me and Leo completely, rushing to Seraphina’s side. The fall had split her lip, and blood trickled from the corner of her mouth. He lifted her into his arms and started for the door. “Sera, stop talking. Nothing is more important than your life. If she dares to touch you, I will never forgive her.” As he carried her away, Seraphina looked back over his shoulder, a triumphant smirk twisting her lips. The nanny took Leo from my arms, her teeth clenched in anger. “First Lady, the master has gone too far! If you hadn’t defied your sick father back then, if you hadn’t personally led a relief team to support his flank, he never would have made it out of that ambush alive. You nearly died for him, First Lady! Why won’t you let us tell him the truth? If he knew…” I raised a hand, cutting her off. “It doesn’t matter anymore.” Leo was still terrified, his little arms reaching for me. I took him and held him close. After I got him back to his room and he’d fallen asleep, I summoned the steward. “Take my token. Send a message to the Prince of the West Side. Tell him… I accept his offer.” The steward was one of our oldest retainers. He hesitated. “First Lady, that man’s temperament is… volatile. You must think this through. Everyone knows he was trying to seize Vance territory even when your father was alive. If you agree now, he might…” “I have my own plans,” I interrupted. “Just go.” The steward had no choice but to obey. Late that night, a commotion in the courtyard woke Leo. It was Anton, returning from the hospital with Seraphina. I quickly sat up, pulling Leo into my arms. “Shh, it’s okay. Mommy’s here.” Leo was wide awake now. He burrowed into my chest, his big eyes looking up at me. “Mama, does Daddy not want us anymore?” A pain lanced through my heart. I looked into my son’s eyes and gently kissed his forehead. “You have me. That’s all that matters.” He snuggled closer, his small hands clutching my shirt. My son. Elara Vance’s son. I was all he needed. The next day, Anton came to apologize. “I know you’re still angry,” he began, “but it was just an act. Sera saved my life. She was almost eaten by wolves for me. I have to show her I’m on her side.” “I’ve been thinking,” he continued, “our son’s birthday is coming up. Let’s throw him a huge party. We can announce to everyone that I, Anton Ryder, have a son!” A cold smile touched my lips. So, it begins. 4. The man from the West Side replied quickly. “I return in five days. The bride price is already prepared.” Five days. The same day as Leo’s birthday party. Anton went all out for the party, a grand affair. But I noticed that his closest men looked at me with strange, pitying expressions whenever they saw me. The night before the party, Seraphina burst into the dining room, wearing a wedding gown. “Oh, sister-in-law, I’m so sorry! I got lost. I didn’t mean to come here. I was just trying on my dress, and Anton told me to take a walk to clear my head, and I must have taken a wrong turn.” I gave her a flat look. “If you’re lost, then get out. My aim won’t be off a second time.” Her face went pale. She gathered the massive skirt of her gown to turn, and in doing so, knocked a vase off a display shelf. She screamed. Just then, Anton’s anxious voice came from the doorway. “Sera, what are you doing in here? Come back with me.” He rushed in, shot a quick glance at me and Leo, and grabbed Seraphina’s hand to pull her away. I stared at the shattered porcelain on the floor, a cold rage building inside me. “Stop. Who said you could leave?” The steward immediately stepped forward. “Miss Seraphina, you have just broken an heirloom left by the late Mrs. Vance. It was the First Lady’s most cherished possession.” Seraphina’s face turned ashen. “I… I didn’t mean to… I didn’t know it was some unlucky thing from a dead person…” Anton pulled her behind him. “Elara, what is this? Are you trying to settle scores?” My voice was frigid. “Yes. That’s exactly what I’m doing.” Anton snorted. “Well, I say no. And I’d like to see anyone here try to touch her.” The steward’s hand went to his gun, but Anton was faster. He drew his own pistol and fired, the bullet tearing through the steward’s wrist. As the steward’s gun clattered to the floor, Anton’s was already aimed at me. “Elara,” he said, his voice dangerously low, “want to try me, too?” So this is what it felt like to have a gun pointed at you by the man you loved. The steward knelt on the floor, clutching his wrist, his face white with pain as blood seeped through his fingers. “First Lady…” I said nothing more. Seeing my surrender, Anton turned and left with Seraphina. Five days later, a grand procession from the West Side, bearing wedding gifts, entered the gates of the Vance compound. At the same time, Leo’s birthday party was in full swing. And another set of gifts was being brought in—Anton’s wedding gifts for Seraphina. With all the commotion, no one paid any attention to the men from the West. Holding Leo, I stood at the top of the grand staircase. I walked down the red carpet that had been laid out, and straight into the bridal car waiting to take me to the West Side. Before I left, I gave an order to the still-recovering steward. “Tell our men to move out. They follow me. Now.” At the party, Seraphina, in her wedding dress, toasted with Anton. The hours passed. The party wound down. I never appeared. Anton finally grew restless. He sent a man to my private quarters to find me. The man returned in a panic. “Boss, the First Lady is gone!” Anton didn’t believe it. “How is that possible!”

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My entire prestigious family can hear my thoughts. The day they brought me home, they sent their adopted son a casual thirty-thousand dollars for pocket money. They sent me two hundred. I grumbled to myself, Are you kidding me? Two hundred bucks? I make more than that turning wrenches on the line. Just as their faces curdled with disdain, waiting for me to grovel like a grateful dog, they heard the rest of my thought: So, a New York City powerhouse family gives their son a combined monthly allowance of thirty-thousand, two-hundred dollars. They couldn’t even afford a square meter of thermal shielding with that. What’s the point of fighting over this paltry inheritance? The Program is still behind on its thirty-rocket KPI for the year. Instead of wasting time on this family drama, I should be back building defenses against the alien invasion. 1. The moment my parents and I stepped through the mansion’s grand entrance, a boy threw himself to his knees in front of me. I flinched back, startled. He scrambled forward on his knees, his face streaked with tears. “It’s all my fault! I stole the life that should have been yours, brother! I’m on my knees begging for your forgiveness. If you can’t forgive me… I’ll voluntarily leave the Sterling family and go back to the slums! I’ll do anything, as long as it makes you happy!” In the opulent living room, my biological parents and three older sisters immediately rushed to his side. My mother helped the boy, Miles, to his feet, her tone sharp with disapproval. “Rob, that’s enough. How could you treat your brother like that?” My father’s face was grim, his eyes burning with condemnation. My eldest sister, Chloe, scoffed. “What do you expect from someone raised in the wilds? Besides herding cattle and turning wrenches, all he knows are these pathetic little tricks to get attention.” I was too busy gawking at the mansion’s interior to hear a word they were saying. The Sterlings really are a top-tier player in the advanced materials industry. Even their home is built with the best of the best. The anger in their eyes vanished, replaced by stunned confusion. They exchanged glances, then all stared at me. Good thing I listened to the Director and took leave to come home for this family reunion. With me as the inside man, the Program won’t have to worry about material suppliers anymore. My father’s brow furrowed slightly. Chloe let out a disgusted snort but said nothing. My second sister, Seraphina, shot me a look that was suddenly sharp and wary. My third sister, Ava, glared at me. “I’m warning you,” she said, her voice like ice, “we only have one brother, and that’s Miles. Don’t even think about competing with him for our affection, or for the company.” My father cleared his throat, addressing me in a patronizing tone. “Rob, you’ve been working on the factory floor for a long time. It must be difficult adjusting to the Sterling lifestyle here in the city.” He tapped a few times on his phone. A moment later, the ancient feature phone in my pocket blared a robotic, glitchy voice announcement: “Two hundred dollars received.” “Take this for now,” my father said. “Once you’ve settled in, I’ll send you more.” Then, he turned to a teary-eyed Miles, his voice softening with affection. “Miles, we raised you. You will always be a Sterling. That will never change. As compensation, I’m raising your monthly allowance to thirty thousand, starting now. I’ll send it over.” He immediately pulled out his phone to make the transfer. Miles’s tears vanished, replaced by a triumphant smile. He made a show of refusing, his gaze flickering smugly in my direction. “Oh, no, you can’t. You should give my allowance to my brother instead. He grew up poor in the countryside and worked in a factory. He needs the money more than I do.” The flaunting was obvious, but I just frowned. Are the Sterlings really this poor? Only thirty thousand a month for their son? My father’s thumb froze over his phone’s keypad. 2. Miles stared at him, confused. My eldest sister, Chloe, let out a cold laugh. “Thirty thousand? I bet you’ve never even seen ten thousand in your life. Do you even understand the concept of money?” I was disappointed. Is thirty thousand a lot? It wouldn’t even buy a square meter of thermal shielding. My workshop’s weekly budget is more than that. The smirk on Chloe’s face froze solid. Well, I guess being a little poor is fine. At least their family business is in advanced materials. I’ll ask Dad later if he can pull some strings, get his company to partner with our Program. They are my blood relatives, after all. Their products must be struggling to sell. Poor Sterlings, they need my help. After a long, awkward silence, the entire family—except for a clueless Miles—had strange expressions on their faces. My father finished the transfer to Miles and stalked out of the living room, his face dark. After dinner, my mother led me to a small suite next to the first-floor dining room. “Rob,” she said coolly, “none of the upstairs bedrooms are ready. You’ll have to make do and stay here for now.” Miles stood beside her, feigning concern. “Mom, this is the maid’s quarters. Is it really appropriate for my brother to stay here? Maybe he should just take my room.” Before I could say a word, my mother jumped in. “Absolutely not! This cramped little room is for the help. I can’t let you suffer in a place like this!” I had to laugh. This family is something else. The adopted son is too good for the maid’s room, but the biological son isn’t. A flash of embarrassment crossed my mother’s face. She shot me an angry glare before turning back to Miles. “Rob grew up in the country. He’s used to dirt floors and factory dorms with no plumbing. The maid’s room is a huge step up for him. But you’re different. You’ve been raised in luxury. You could never get used to a place like this.” Tears of pity welled up in her eyes. Miles put on a magnanimous smile. “It’s okay, Mom. My bedroom was always meant to be his anyway. I’ve been the usurper for over twenty years. It’s time I gave it back.” “Miles, don’t say that! No matter what, you’ll always be my precious son…” The two of them went back and forth, ending in a dramatic, tearful embrace. 3. I surveyed the room meant for “the help.” You know, for a maid’s room, it’s not bad. Great soundproofing. Those two are wailing their heads off, and I can barely hear them. Dad must be dead to the world out there. It is a bit small, though. I won’t be able to move my equipment from the facility here. Guess I’ll have to go back to the lab if I want to work overtime. What a pain. My mother’s crying stopped abruptly. Thinking about work made me anxious. I used my annual leave for this family reunion. I’ve got a mountain of work piling up. Starting tomorrow, I’ll have to pull a week of all-nighters. Otherwise, I’ll never hit my KPI for the year. My mother was staring at me, the tears drying on her cheeks. She looked around the small room, a flicker of regret in her eyes. The news that the Sterlings had found their real son spread like wildfire through the city’s elite circles. Everyone was watching me and Miles, hungry for a real-life soap opera. To show that the family treated both sons equally, my father decided to throw a grand party in my honor. The funny thing was, nobody told me about it. That evening, after a long, grueling day at the lab, I came home. I pushed open the door to find the living room filled with the city’s rich and famous, all of whom turned to stare at me with a mixture of shock, pity, and disgust. Miles’s voice boomed across the room. “Brother! Why would you come to a party dressed like that?” I looked at him. He was preened to perfection, every hair in place, wearing a bespoke suit that made him stand out even in this glamorous crowd. He walked over to me, his voice laced with false concern. “Didn’t you like the suit Mom and Dad picked out for you? You can borrow one from my closet if you want.” His words were caring, but his eyes were overflowing with malicious glee. As expected, the guests started whispering. “So that’s the real Sterling heir? He looks so… common.” “They threw this whole party for him, and he shows up dressed like that on purpose? Is he trying to embarrass them?” I glanced around. Ava, my actress sister, was chatting with guests, pretending not to know me. Seraphina stood nearby, watching the drama unfold with a detached amusement. Chloe walked over with my parents, her expression thunderous. “Rob,” my mother hissed, “what is wrong with you? Look at what you’re wearing to an important event like this!” 4. I looked down at myself. A standard-issue work shirt and a pair of durable cargo pants. Comfortable, practical. What was the problem? So tired. So sleepy. I didn’t work my ass off all day just to come home and play-act with these people. The aliens are about to invade, and they’re wasting time with high-society drama. I should have just stayed at the lab. With all the time they’re spending on this charade, I could have run another set of simulations. My father forced a smile for the guests. “This is my son, Rob. We just brought him back from the countryside. He’s still learning the ropes. Please forgive his… naivety.” Miles quickly jumped in to “defend” me. “It’s my brother’s first time at a party like this. He doesn’t have any experience, so please don’t mind him.” The condescension in the guests’ eyes only intensified. “I heard his adoptive parents were shepherds. He grew up with sheep. It certainly… shows.” “Not only that, I heard he’s a menial laborer at some factory. No culture, no education. Compared to him, Miles is much more of a ‘real’ heir.” My parents’ faces grew darker with every whisper. Miles shot me a secret smirk, then turned to our parents. “Today is about introducing my brother. Mom, Dad, you shouldn’t be angry with him.” Then he deliberately changed the subject. “By the way, brother, I heard you work at a big factory. Which one is it?” he asked, his tone deceptively innocent. “A lot of our family friends are here tonight. Maybe your boss is even in the room!” Another wave of snickers went through the crowd. “An electronics assembly plant is a ‘big factory’? Does he not know what a real corporation is?” “He’s from the country. It’s normal he can’t tell the difference.” “My company would never hire someone without even a high school diploma. It would ruin our image.” The mockery was relentless. My whole family was glaring at me, blaming me for their humiliation. Actually, Miles just gave me an idea. The Sterlings may be poor, but they’re well-connected. Satellite communications, remote sensing, new energy… if I could get the titans of these industries to partner with the Program, our production capacity would skyrocket. My KPI for the year would be saved. Our current planetary defense system isn’t robust enough. We need all the private sector support we can get. I looked around the hall, suddenly energized, and was about to introduce everyone to my work. 5. But Chloe rushed over, grabbing my arm. “Rob, stop making a fool of yourself,” she hissed. “Go change out of those disgusting clothes, now!” She practically dragged me toward the maid’s room, terrified I was about to further tarnish the family name. At the door, she let go, her voice a low warning. “You will stay in here and behave yourself. Don’t you dare do anything else to embarrass this family! I’m going into politics, and I cannot afford a single stain on my record. If you do anything to jeopardize my vetting process, I swear, Mom and Dad won’t be the only ones who make you pay!” I stared at her frantic expression. This sister of mine has been trying to get into public service for seven years. A tortoise could’ve made it by now. Are the Sterlings really so broke they can’t even afford to send her to a prep course? Chloe’s face went through several shades of red before she finally exploded. “You’re incorrigible! You know what? Just stay in here and think about what you’ve done. You’re not welcome at the party anymore!” She slammed the door and, to my surprise, locked it from the outside. I couldn’t figure out what had made her so angry, but I wasn’t complaining. It gave me the perfect opportunity to review the day’s test data. But Miles, it seemed, wasn’t done with his games. A few minutes later, I heard the lock click. He stepped inside, a saccharine smile on his face. “Brother, aren’t you changed yet? The guests are all waiting for you.” With no one else around, the cunning in his eyes was on full display. He saw the data sheets on my desk. I instinctively tensed, covering the documents with my hands. This was classified information. Even a small leak could have catastrophic consequences. “What’s all this, brother?” he asked, reaching for the papers. I pressed them firmly to the desk. “You’re being so secretive. Is it something you don’t want people to see?” Miles glanced toward the door, confirming something, and then his entire demeanor shifted. The mask fell away. He lunged across the desk. “Give them to me!” I reacted instantly, slamming my hands down on the stack of papers. He grabbed them, his eyes glinting with a sinister light. The papers crumpled in his grip, and I felt a pang of fury. “Miles, are you insane?!” He was about to rip the documents from my grasp. I didn’t hesitate. I kicked out, aiming for his chest. But then he did something strange. He let go of the papers and allowed my kick to send him flying backward. I didn’t miss the twisted, triumphant smile that flashed across his lips. “Miles!” The moment I heard my mother’s shriek, I knew exactly what his plan had been. Chloe, my parents, and a crowd of guests arrived just in time to see Miles sailing through the air. Chloe screamed, “Rob! What are you doing?!” 6. I looked up. She was yelling at me, but her face held the faintest hint of a victorious smirk. My father’s eyes were filled with profound disappointment. My mother rushed to Miles’s side, cradling him. He leaned against her, tears streaming down his face. “Mom, it’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have tried to look at my brother’s things. Don’t blame him.” The guests who had followed them stared at me with open disgust. “Just as I thought. A savage from the backwoods. He’s barely been back a week and he’s already resorting to violence.” “Growing up in poverty like that, it’s no wonder his personality is so warped.” “He’s probably been jealous of Miles from the start. He wants to drive him out.” Miles, sobbing, added fuel to the fire. “It’s because I stole his life that he’s so unhappy. If he doesn’t want me in this family, I’ll just leave…” My mother looked up at me, her face contorted with hatred, as if I were some monster, not her son. “Rob! You’ve gone too far this time! Apologize to Miles, right now!” I scoffed internally. Chloe locks me in the room, and then Miles shows up with a key to steal my work. This brother-sister act is worthy of an Oscar. If Miles went into acting, our sister Ava might have some serious competition for her Best Actress award. Across the room, Ava choked on a cough. The fury on my mother’s face wavered. She unconsciously loosened her grip on Miles. My father’s gaze shifted to Chloe, who nervously wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead. Miles was oblivious, still deep in his performance. “I was just worried he was going to do something to harm the family! I saw his papers, they had all this stuff about alloys and data I didn’t understand. I just wanted to see what it was, but he reacted so violently. He didn’t even graduate high school, how could he possibly know about this stuff? And our family company develops advanced materials, I was just worried he was…” His words all but spelled out that I was a corporate spy. Under the weight of his accusations, my father’s expression grew grim. He walked toward me, his hand outstretched. “Give me those documents.” I clutched them tighter, wary. His patience snapped. He lunged for them. Thankfully, I was ready and pulled them out of his reach. Like father, like son—a bunch of thieves. You must have a hankering for a prison sentence. Daring to grab a state secret. Is Chloe really sure she still wants to get into politics after this? Chloe’s face went white. She quickly stepped between us. “What is this stuff?” she demanded. “If you don’t give us an explanation, you are not leaving this house ever again!” 7. I was silent for a moment. That’s not going to work. I have to be at the lab early tomorrow to turn some more wrenches. If someone has to go to prison, I’m voting for Miles. I pulled him out of my mother’s arms, held up one of the data sheets, and pointed to a specific line. “Read this.” He was reluctant at first, but with everyone watching, he stumbled through the words.

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