Author: Momo Chan

1 I was choking on a piece of food when Isabelle was on the dance floor with a male model. My face was turning a deep, desperate shade of crimson as I begged her for help, but she just shot me a look of pure annoyance, as if I was ruining her fun, and dragged the model away. It wasn’t until I was on the verge of collapsing that a waiter saw me and saved my life. But when Isabelle returned, she walked right past me, slapped the waitress across the face, and then pointed a finger at me, her voice dripping with venom. “I leave you alone for one minute, and you’re already hitting on other women!” “I guess you don’t really want to get married after all. Fine, we can postpone it. Again.” Usually, when she threatened me like that, I would have scrambled, desperate to explain myself. But this time, I was just… tired. A profound exhaustion settled deep in my bones. After her words, a dead silence fell over the private room. Isabelle sat down, her brow furrowed, saying nothing. I knew what she was doing. She was waiting for me to bow my head and apologize, just like I had on a thousand other nights. I looked at my reflection in the dark glass of the window—the man staring back was a ghost, his face a bloodless mask. The exhaustion was overwhelming. I didn’t offer an explanation. I didn’t try to win her back. I simply stood up and walked out. Behind me, I heard a mocking voice—the model, Leo. “Ms. Lin, I think Mr. Chen is angry. Aren’t you going to go after him?” Isabelle’s voice was a blade of ice, laced with undisguised contempt. “Him? As if. Give him two days. He’ll come crawling back with an apology.” That was what she truly thought of me. But she was wrong. For the next week, I didn’t contact her once. Just when I thought the relationship was finally over, Isabelle showed up at my apartment one evening, completely unannounced. I was in the middle of a lighthearted chat with a friend on my phone when I heard the sound of a key in the lock. The smile faded from my face. I watched calmly as Isabelle pushed the door open, a sense of distance growing between us. Her eyes scanned my face, and she frowned slightly. “Have you calmed down now?” Those words almost made me laugh. Oh, I had more than calmed down. In the past few days, I had canceled the tuxedo fitting and given notice on our apartment. As soon as my current project was finished, I was leaving this city for good. The room was silent. Isabelle walked toward me, a flicker of surprise in her eyes. “Have you gained weight?” I paused, the glass of water halfway to my lips. I hadn’t gained or lost a single pound. She thought I looked bigger because, for the past week, she’d been spending all her time with someone skinnier than me. Isabelle let out a small sigh of relief, then placed a gift box in front of me. “Well, you can’t blame me for this one,” she said, her tone teasing. “It’s your own fault for getting fat.” I opened the box. Inside was a slim-fit suit, two sizes too small for me. I said “thank you” and set it aside. My new haircut was a bit short, and I ran a hand over it. Isabelle’s gaze followed my movement, and she froze. “When did you get your hair cut?” I didn’t stop, my voice flat. “A few days ago.” She fell silent. In her version of events, a pathetic man like me would either be crying his eyes out or starving himself. He certainly wouldn’t have the peace of mind to get a haircut. A bitter look crossed her face. She turned and went into the bathroom to wash up, but when she looked up at the mirror, she realized all her things were gone. Her brow furrowed. “Where are my face wash and my toothbrush?” I’d thrown them out days ago. It had never even occurred to me that she would come back. I was so lost in my plans for the future that I didn’t notice her walking up to me until she was right there. Her voice was soft, with a hint of pleading. “Don’t be angry anymore. I was upset, that’s why I said those things. Don’t worry, the wedding is still on.” The wedding that was supposed to happen a year ago had been postponed again and again. She had me wrapped around her little finger, turning me into a laughingstock among my friends and family. Seeing my silence, she assumed—as always—that I had forgiven her without question. She reached out to touch me. But in that instant, the sharp, woody scent of cypress filled my nostrils. It was the same cologne the model, Leo, had been wearing. The image of the two of them, intertwined and whispering, flashed in my mind, and a wave of nausea washed over me. I shoved her away and ran for the bathroom. 2 Isabelle stumbled back, her face turning ashen as she stared at the bathroom door. She let out a cold, sharp laugh, then slammed the front door behind her as she left. Faced with her blatant silent treatment, I felt nothing. No sadness, no anger. I tossed the suit into the trash can and went to bed. The next day, after work, I met up with a friend for dinner. I had just walked into the restaurant when someone, holding a glass of wine, bumped into me hard. The wine splashed all over both of us, leaving dark stains on our clothes. It was Leo. When he saw it was me, he sneered and just stood there, his face a sullen mask. Isabelle, who had been following him, froze for a second, then took off Leo’s jacket and shoved it at me. “You upset him. You can wash this for him.” Leo barely suppressed a grin, murmuring, “Isabelle, I don’t know… Evan’s a grown man.” Isabelle just smiled, taking his hand. “And are your hands suited for doing laundry?” Her words made me look down at my own hands. They were dry and rough, the hands of someone used to manual labor. Because so many of Isabelle’s clothes were delicate and had to be hand-washed, I had done it without complaint for five years. And the result? In her eyes, I had become someone only fit for menial tasks. The memory stung. I shook my head and held the jacket back out to her. “You should take this to a dry cleaner.” Isabelle was stunned. In her memory, I had never once refused a single request she’d made. She had just assumed I would fall in line. My defiance was a slap in the face. Her expression hardened, and she stared at me without a word. The stress and exhaustion of the past few days had weakened my immune system. I coughed twice. Isabelle’s brow knitted in annoyance. “Evan, don’t play the victim with me. You’re perfectly healthy. You’re just lazy!” She refused to take the jacket, instead grabbing Leo’s hand and pulling him towards the exit. “Forget that one. I’ll buy you a new one.” As they walked away, I casually draped the jacket over a chair and turned to find my friend, Alex, looking for me. “Whoa, what happened to you? Your shirt is soaked!” he exclaimed. I didn’t want to ruin his evening. I threw an arm around his shoulder and guided him inside. “It’s nothing, just an accident.” “You should go home and change.” I waved him off. “It’ll dry. We haven’t hung out in forever. Let’s eat first!” After dinner and a long chat with Alex, it was already nine o’clock when I got home. The damp clothes had dried against my skin. I touched my face and realized I felt hot. A thermometer confirmed it: 103 degrees. I took some medicine and fell into a feverish sleep. At one in the morning, Isabelle burst into my apartment and shook me awake violently. I pried my heavy eyelids open to see her furious face looming over me. “Where did you throw Leo’s jacket?” she seethed. “It was a birthday gift from his mother! He’s heartbroken. Find it, now!” The high fever made my brain sluggish. It took me a few seconds to process her words. “Can it wait until morning?” I mumbled. “No! Get up and go now!” My whole body ached as I sat numbly on the edge of the bed, fumbling for my slippers. Isabelle thought I was deliberately stalling and her temper flared. “Evan, I never knew you could be so cruel, deliberately bullying someone younger than you.” The sheer injustice of her words made me tremble with a rage that cut through the feverish haze. I gritted my teeth, pulled on my pajamas and slippers, and followed her back to the restaurant. We waited there until ten the next morning before she finally got the jacket back. She let out a sigh of relief, only then seeming to notice my thin clothes and flushed face. But before she could say anything, I passed out. When I woke up, Isabelle was sitting by my bedside. She immediately stood up, looking tired and a little guilty. “Evan, you fainted from the fever. Are you feeling any better? What would you like to eat?” I just gave her a cold, empty look and said nothing. Knowing she was in the wrong, Isabelle spoke softly. “You have to eat something. I’ll go get you some soup.” She turned and left the room. The sleep hadn’t been long, but it had cleared my head completely. 3 I pulled out my phone and started scrolling. It didn’t take long to find a new post from Leo. “Brothers, it’s true: a good woman will always stand by you. I told my girl the jacket was a birthday gift from my mom, and she was so worried she found it for me first thing in the morning! Even after I told her the truth, she couldn’t bring herself to be mad at me! Plus, she brought me my favorite croissants and pastries.” I glanced at it and scrolled on without a second thought. I opened up my client’s order information. It was in the final payment stage. Once they confirmed receipt, I would get my commission. The door clicked open, and Isabelle walked in with bags of food. Croissants, pastries, savory muffins—nothing I actually liked. I glanced at the bags and didn’t move. Isabelle looked at me, nagging, “You’re just starting to recover. You should eat something.” I was double-checking the client’s information, focusing on a few key numbers, and my brain automatically tuned her out. Isabelle’s hand, which had been about to serve me food, froze. She stared at me for a few seconds, then suddenly snatched the phone from my hands. “What are you looking at that’s so—” Her voice died in her throat. Her usually cool expression was replaced with pure shock. “You changed your phone’s password?” For the five years we were together, my password had always been a combination of her birthday digits. But after what happened at the club, I changed it immediately. Isabelle looked at me with a complex expression, turning my phone over and over in her hands. “You changed the wallpaper, too… Evan, you don’t love me anymore.” Her tone was so close to a pout that it almost made me gag. I took a quick sip of water to force the feeling down. Seeing my indifference, Isabelle’s temper began to rise. A thought seemed to strike her, and her voice turned cold and accusatory. “Why did you cancel the tuxedo fitting? Didn’t you like the one we picked?” A strange feeling washed over me. In the two years since we’d been engaged, Isabelle had never shown the slightest interest in the wedding details. Why the sudden concern about my suit? “It was ugly,” I said casually. “I didn’t want it anymore.” “With your pathetic sense of style?” Her arrogance and condescension resurfaced as she looked down on me. “That suit was a custom design from Paris. There’s a limit to how much of a scene you can make, Evan. Don’t push it, or you’ll be the one who ends up embarrassed.” For a moment, I felt a dizzying sense of disbelief. How spineless must I have been in the past for her to be so confident that I would never leave? But she didn’t give me a chance to argue. She stood up and hurried out, her rushed steps almost looking like she was fleeing. The thought was almost funny. My work was wrapping up. Over the next few days, I shipped my belongings home in batches. On my last day, Isabelle called. “Evan, come to the office. I need to talk to you.” Her voice sounded urgent. I had no intention of seeing her again, but after a moment’s thought, I decided to go. I took a cab to her company. It was noon, when everyone should have been leaving for lunch, but the lobby was eerily quiet and empty. Suspicious, I pushed open the main doors. The next second, dozens of party poppers exploded above my head, showering me with confetti. Before I could react, a group of people rushed forward, smearing cake all over my face and hair. I was completely covered, struggling to breathe. Then everything went black as I tripped over something and fell to the ground. I waved my hands frantically, trying to make them stop. But a figure holding an ice bucket ran towards me, laughing as they dumped its contents all over my head. I was a complete, sopping mess. Leo, dressed in a perfectly tailored suit with his hair impeccably styled, laughed out loud. “Happy birthday, Evan!” he cheered, snapping pictures of me with his phone. The other employees seemed to sense the strange atmosphere and fell silent. Isabelle helped me to my feet and handed me a gift box. “Evan, are you happy with your birthday surprise this year? Go on, open your gift.” I stood there, drenched and humiliated, a clown in her circus. And she had the audacity to ask if I was happy. I violently slapped the box out of her hands. 4 I turned and stalked towards the bathroom. Isabelle’s face contorted in anger. “Evan, don’t be so ungrateful!” she yelled at my back. I grabbed a handful of paper towels and tried to clean myself up in a stall. A few moments later, some of her employees came in. “That Leo guy did that on purpose, right?” one of them whispered. “Who smears cake all over someone’s entire head? And suggesting that ice water thing… I can’t believe Ms. Lin actually agreed to it.” “Yeah, and look at him, all dressed up like a prince, while he made Evan look like a beggar.” The voices faded. I took a deep breath. Once I had cleaned up as best I could, I walked out, filled an empty mop bucket with dirty water from the janitor’s closet, and headed back to the lobby. Leo was in the center of the room, putting on a show for everyone. Isabelle was at the piano, smiling as she played his accompaniment. Some of her fangirl employees were even fawning over them as a couple. I walked straight up behind Leo. Before he could react, I dumped the entire bucket of filthy water over his head. In an instant, his proud, preened appearance was transformed into that of a drowned rat. Leo stood there, stunned, before letting out a furious curse, his face twisting into an ugly snarl. Isabelle immediately took off her own blazer and wrapped it around him. “Evan, have you lost your mind?” I cut her off, my voice calm and steady. “We’re done.” She started to say something, but her eyes fell on my neck. Her expression changed. “You’re having an allergic reaction.” Isabelle moved towards me, grabbing my shoulders to get a closer look at the red rash breaking out on my skin. The cake had contained almond flour, which I’m severely allergic to. If I hadn’t washed it off immediately, it could have been much worse. I violently shoved her hands away, stumbling back several steps to put distance between us. The rejection clearly stung her; her face went blank for a second. She looked at me, hurt. In her mind, she had been trying to make peace for days, even planning this party for me. And here I was, publicly humiliating her again and again. But the sight of the rash on my skin seemed to bring her back. She forced a smile and picked up the gift box I had knocked to the floor. She opened it. Inside was a mechanical watch, exactly my style. It was the most generous and thoughtful gift she had given me in all the years we’d been together. But looking at it, I felt nothing. A flash of jealousy crossed Leo’s eyes. He put on a pained, conciliatory expression. “Evan, don’t be mad. It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have suggested such a crazy idea.” He looked pathetic, yet he was the one backing down, playing the part of the victim. Isabelle didn’t even look at him. Her eyes were locked on me. My phone buzzed. It was HR, telling me to come sign my final papers. As I turned to leave, Isabelle blocked my path. “We need to talk,” she said stubbornly. “You don’t answer my calls, you don’t reply to my texts. I have no idea what you’re thinking.” I glanced at my watch, unwilling to waste any more time here. “Fine,” I said slowly. “Come to my place tonight.” Isabelle visibly relaxed. She opened her mouth to say something else, but I was already walking away. What I’d said was a lie, just to get her off my back. That night, I was flying to Silver Creek. After finishing up at HR, I went straight home to get my luggage. Isabelle, for once, sent me a text to let me know her plans. I’ll be home in about two hours. What do you want to eat? I’ll pick it up on the way. I looked at the plane ticket in my hand. “Whatever,” I typed back. An hour later, she sent me a picture of the sunset. It was something we used to do when we were first in love, a habit that had slowly faded away. But even seeing it now, I felt no flicker of emotion. Half an hour later, Isabelle called. “Evan, you won’t believe my luck. I’m stuck in traffic. I might be a little late.” At that exact moment, an announcement echoed through the airport terminal, calling for passengers on my flight to begin boarding. There was a moment of stunned silence on the other end of the line, then her voice, sharp with disbelief. “What was that sound? Evan, where are you?”

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My estranged daughter suddenly appeared on a popular daytime talk show. “Before I was fifteen, I was the happiest kid in the world,” she told the host, her voice trembling. “But then, my mother just… changed.” “When I was so depressed I wanted to kill myself, my own mother told me to go ahead and die.” “From that year on, she barely spoke to me. She didn’t even come to my wedding, or see her own grandchild.” “I don’t know why she did it,” she sobbed, looking directly into the camera. “But no matter what, I want to say, ‘Mom, I will always love you.’” Later, the show’s producers contacted me, hoping to orchestrate a televised reconciliation. I refused without a second thought. Watching her fraudulent performance, I scoffed. “That piece of trash,” I muttered to the empty room. “She doesn’t deserve a mother.” … I had just gotten home when my old friend called. “Sarah, your Jessie is on TV. It’s The Ashton Pierce Show. You need to see this.” I turned on the television. I hadn’t seen my daughter, Jessica, in years. She was only twenty-eight, but she looked haggard, more like forty. What came out of her mouth next, however, was a fresh reminder of her bottomless capacity for deceit. “I was fifteen, I was a teenager,” she wept to the host. “Isn’t it normal to be a little rebellious?” “I just suddenly didn’t want to go to school anymore. There was no other reason. I wasn’t getting into any real trouble.” “My mom is a teacher. She’s supposed to be the best at educating people, but with me… she had no patience at all.” “I talked back to her a few times, and I joked that I didn’t want to live anymore. But she just looked at me, cold as ice, and told me to go die.” I remembered that day. It was our first truly terrible fight. After I said those words, she had thrown on a jacket and run out. We lived on the fourth floor. She climbed out the hallway window and jumped. There was a pile of junk the neighbors had put out for collection down below. She landed on it. There was blood everywhere, but she didn’t die. Her father had run down in a panic, calling an ambulance to rush her to the hospital. Now, she recounted it with a tearful, wounded voice. “My own mother… while I was lying in a pool of my own blood, dying… she just walked past me without a word. She went to work like it was any other day.” “I was in the hospital for over a month. My mother never visited me. Not once.” The live comments on the screen exploded. [How can anyone be that cold-blooded? That’s her own daughter.] [Suddenly my mom seems like an angel, even when she grounds me for a month.] [And she’s a teacher? Someone doxx this woman and get her fired!] I trembled as I read the venomous comments. How did she have the audacity to say these things? The host offered some comforting words. Jessica wiped her tears and continued. “When I finally came home, my mom just stopped talking to me completely. And because of her, my dad became distant, too.” “Before I was fifteen, we went on a family vacation every year. After that, we didn’t even go to the mall together on a weekend.” She claimed she spent her entire high school life suffering under my silent, cold abuse. “After graduation,” she went on, “I wanted a laptop for college. The only thing she said to me was that I didn’t deserve one.” “Later, she told me I was an adult and she didn’t have to support me anymore. She threw me out of the house.” “It’s been over a decade. My graduation, my wedding, the birth of my child… she wasn’t there for any of it. My dad gave me a check for a thousand dollars for my wedding, and that was it.” She turned to the camera again, her eyes pleading. “Mom, I really do love you. It’s been so long. Can’t we let go of whatever grudge this is?” “Thanksgiving is just around the corner. Can’t we please be a family again?” She sobbed so hard she could barely breathe. The live feed went wild with a fresh wave of vitriol. The producers quickly disabled the comments. It would be a lie to say the hateful words didn’t hurt. But if I had to do it all over again, I would make the same choice. The pain of a toxic family has always been a hot-button issue. After the live broadcast, clips of her interview went viral. As expected, I, the heartless mother, was subjected to a brutal online mobbing. Netizens figured out which university I taught at, even though I was already retired. The school’s official website, forums, and alumni pages were flooded with condemnations and insults. [This university is cursed to have a teacher like her.] [You need to vet for character, not just academic credentials. Otherwise, you’re just producing garbage.] [To give birth but not to raise is to be less than human!] [She has a good public reputation, but she tortures her own child at home. She’s a monster.] A few former colleagues and students tried to defend me, but their voices were drowned out in the deluge of hate. The university called me in. In the president’s office, he looked pained. “Sarah, given the public outcry, we’re temporarily removing your profile from the distinguished faculty page. I hope you understand.” “But rest assured,” he added quickly, “we’ve worked together for decades. We know the kind of person you are. The truth will come out eventually, and we will restore your honors.” I told him I understood. But when I saw my name vanish from the school’s website, a career of over thirty years of hard work erased in an instant, I couldn’t stop the tears from falling. When I got back to my apartment building, the scene outside my door made me freeze. The door was covered in red spray paint. Words like MONSTER and TRASH were scrawled across it, with vile curses covering the entire wall. The floor was splattered with some foul-smelling, unknown liquid. I didn’t dare go inside. I hid in the nearby stairwell, my hands shaking as I called my husband, Rob. He rushed home immediately. Our next-door neighbor heard the commotion and peeked out. Seeing us, she let out a sigh of relief. “Sarah, those people were awful. If I hadn’t threatened to call the police, they were going to wait for you.” “I recorded them,” she said, handing me her phone. “If you want to report it, this is evidence.” I looked at the video. The man leading the pack was horribly familiar. It was that troublemaker from years ago. My daughter’s husband, Kyle. “I don’t know what happened between you and your daughter,” our neighbor said kindly, “but you two are good people. I know you’re not like that.” After thanking her, I copied the video to my computer. My husband, Rob, a typically mild-mannered man, was seething. “Sarah, we have to call the police.” Two days of online harassment had sent my blood pressure soaring. My head was spinning, but I knew it wasn’t time yet. “Let’s just wait,” I said. Rob hesitated. “Sarah… my office saw the interview. And some people showed up there, too.” “The director… he suggested I take some time off. A leave of absence.” “What?!” I cried out. “But you’re retiring in two months! A leave of absence now will affect your pension, your record!” “This is a nightmare,” Rob sighed, his voice full of despair. “We never should have had her.” He was never good with words, but he held me close. “It’s okay. The pension will be a little less, but we have enough to live on.” He knew it wasn’t the money I cared about. It was his reputation, built over decades of dedicated work, now tarnished. The events of the past few days stoked the embers of resentment I held for my daughter into a raging fire. “Honey,” Rob said quietly. “Do you think… maybe Jessie is in some kind of trouble?” “Does she not have our address? Does she not have our phone number? No, Rob! She’s using public opinion to force our hand!” “Have you already forgotten the lesson we learned the last time we were soft-hearted?” At the mention of that, he fell silent. For the next few days, I felt the stares and heard the whispers whenever I went out for groceries. I decided to stop leaving the apartment altogether. The vandalism incident had prompted the building management to tighten security, so at least we had a couple of days of peace. Buzzzzzzz. A loud humming sound from outside the window caught my attention. A drone was hovering right outside our living room. Hanging from it was a banner. The words made the blood rush to my head. Printed in blood-red letters on a white cloth, it read: DAUGHTER ABANDONER DESERVES TO DIE! The world tilted. I felt a wave of dizziness, and then everything went black. When I opened my eyes again, I was in a hospital room. Rob was by my side, his face etched with worry. He let out a huge breath when he saw I was awake. “The person flying the drone has been arrested, honey. I called the police. Don’t you worry.” At the police station, the drone operator admitted he was just paid to do it. He’d seen the story online and thought I was a terrible mother. Seeing me collapse and the ambulance arrive had scared him half to death. “I just thought I was helping fight an injustice!” he’d told the police. “It was that guy, Kyle. He said we were using righteousness to defeat evil.” “I thought it was just a banner! I never meant to hurt anyone!” He’d even handed over the cash Kyle had paid him. The police relayed the story to us and asked how we wanted to proceed. I knew who the real source of the problem was. I didn’t want to press charges against the drone operator. After a fine and a formal statement, they let him go. Seeing my pale face, Rob squeezed my hand. “Sarah, maybe we should move.” “That rotten kid… what in God’s name is he trying to do?” I shook my head. “With the internet, where could we possibly move that they wouldn’t find us?” My collapse was due to high blood pressure, so the doctors wanted to keep me for a week of observation. I had a sinking feeling. If they could get to me at home, the hospital wouldn’t be a sanctuary. “Rob,” I said, “go home and get that folder from my desk. I have a feeling I’m going to need it soon.” He nodded without question and left. I had barely closed my eyes to rest when a commotion erupted outside my room. A moment later, a familiar voice cut through the noise. “Mom! Are you okay, Mom?” I opened my eyes to see Jessica kneeling by my bedside, clutching my hand. Behind her stood the camera crew from the TV show. I tried to pull my hand away, but she gripped it tighter. “Mom, please,” she wept. “Stop being stubborn with me, okay?” A surge of anger shot through me. “Are you blind? You’re pressing on my IV!” She looked down and saw the tube backing up with blood. She let go with a sheepish smile. “I was just so worried about you. I got carried away. Can’t you just talk to me nicely for once?” There were other patients in the room, and a small crowd had gathered at the door. I didn’t want to engage with her. I just turned my head away. The reporter stepped forward. “Mrs. Miller? Hi, I’m from The Ashton Pierce Show. We were contacted by your daughter, Jessica. It seems there’s been a terrible misunderstanding between you two.” “It’s clear she loves you very much. Perhaps now is a good time to clear the air? With Thanksgiving coming up, it would be wonderful for your family to reunite.” I closed my eyes. “There is no misunderstanding. Please leave. I don’t have a daughter.” “Mom!” Jessica cried out, desperate. I saw the man lurking by the door—Kyle—and all the recent events flashed through my mind. I looked Jessica straight in the eye. “I said, you are not my daughter. You two pieces of trash are not worthy!” A collective gasp went through the room. The other patients began to whisper. “Wow, what kind of hate is that? To say something so awful on camera.” “The internet was right. She doesn’t deserve to be a mother. Calling her own daughter trash.” “Yeah, if her daughter is trash, what does that make her? The whole dumpster, hahaha.” The crowd snickered. The words hit me like a physical blow, and my face went pale. The reporter’s expression soured. She clearly hadn’t expected me to be so blunt. “Mrs. Miller, I should remind you, this is a live broadcast. Everything you’re saying is going out to thousands of viewers. Please choose your words carefully.” Jessica remained kneeling, momentarily speechless. The man at the door, Kyle, cleared his throat. That was her cue. Jessica snapped back into character. “Mom, what did I do wrong? You used to love me so much, didn’t you?” She pulled a small, worn doll from her bag. “Mom, look. You made this for me when I was a little girl. I’ve kept it safe all these years.” I stared at the little stuffed monkey. For a moment, I was transported back. I had made that for her twelfth birthday. Then, I snapped. I snatched it from her hand and hurled it out the open window. “Get out! I will never acknowledge you as my daughter!” Jessica shrieked and lunged for the window, pretending she was going to jump out to retrieve the doll. The reporter grabbed her. “Mrs. Miller, are you really this heartless?” the reporter yelled, holding Jessica back. “She cares about you so much!” “Let her go,” I said, my voice flat. “She’s faking it.” The reporter hesitated. Jessica, realizing her bluff was called, sank to her knees in front of me again and started slapping her own face. “Yes, that’s right! In your eyes, I’m always faking it!” she cried. “When I jumped from our building at fifteen, fractured my skull, and bled all over the pavement, was I faking it then, too?” “When you threw me out of the house and I had to live without a mother or father, was that also an act?” With just a few sentences, she had perfectly cemented my image as the cruel, unfeeling monster. I could only imagine what the live comments looked like now. A woman from the next bed rushed over and held her arms. “Honey, stop! There’s no grudge between a mother and daughter that can’t be fixed. This has gone too far.” A nurse, drawn by the noise, came to tell us to be quiet, then stopped dead in her tracks at the scene. “Excuse me, coming through.” Rob had returned. He looked startled by the crowd. Seeing I was okay, he relaxed, but then he saw our daughter kneeling on the floor. His soft heart took over, and he moved to help her up. “Don’t you touch her!” I commanded. I glared at Jessica. “I’m asking you one last time. Are you leaving, or not?”

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1 I gave up my heiress life to marry Ethan Geller. Right before our wedding, a car crash left me blind. In the darkness, I heard Ethan tell his assistant: “The driver and doctor are silenced. Ms. Christian donated her corneas and will never see again.” “Selene is strong, unlike Lily who can’t live without sight. I’ll care for Selene, but I can’t lose Lily.” His voice turned cold: “Have the doctor remove her uterus. Seeing me with Selene’s child would destroy Lily.” The assistant protested: “But she’s been with you since eighteen—” “Just obey.” An icy chill seized me. The man I loved had chosen the scholarship student I sponsored, and destroyed me for her. So be it. He’d receive no mercy. Footsteps echoed in the hospital room. I forced myself to stay calm, to feign unconsciousness. “Mr. Geller, Ms. Christian just had her corneas removed. Her body is incredibly weak. If we remove her uterus now… she might not survive the stress. I strongly advise we wait…” “I pay you to follow my orders, not to give me advice. This is a command, not a discussion. But if anything happens to Selene, you know the consequences.” The doctor’s voice trembled. “Yes, Mr. Geller.” I felt the searing heat of Ethan’s fingers on my cheek. His voice was a husky, gentle whisper. “Selene, my love. It’ll all be over soon. Don’t worry, I’ll always be here to protect you. I love you, Selene.” A faint tremor ran through me. I felt a cool drop on my cheek, and it seemed like Ethan stood up. Sensing I was about to wake, his voice turned sharp and cold. “Where’s the doctor? Prep for surgery, now. I want it done before she wakes up.” My eyes shot open in terror, but all I saw was an endless, suffocating black. Tears streamed down my face as my hands flailed in the empty air. “I… why can’t I see?” “Selene, don’t be scared. I’m here. I’m right here.” Ethan pulled me into a tight embrace, his large, warm hand stroking my hair. His deep voice was thick with what sounded like heartbreak. “There was an accident… The doctors say the blindness is only temporary. I’ll take care of you, Selene…” He seemed to nod to someone over my shoulder before continuing. “Shh, you need to rest. You can’t get too emotional right now. The doctor is just going to give you a vitamin shot to help you recover.” If I hadn’t woken up early, if I hadn’t heard everything, I would have believed him without a second thought. But I knew. I knew the so-called vitamin shot was anesthesia, meant to drag me back under. I gripped his arm, my voice a choked sob as I shook my head wildly. “No… Ethan, I don’t want it… I want to go home. Please, can we just go home…?” Before I could finish, the cold prick of a needle pierced my skin. As my consciousness dissolved into blackness, the last thing I heard was Ethan’s voice, as gentle as it had always been. “It’s okay, Selene. Just sleep. It’ll be all over when you wake up. I’m here. You’re going to be okay.” Silent tears traced paths down my temples. My body was numb, but my heart was being torn apart. I closed my eyes, succumbing to the despair. In the darkness, an image flashed—an eighteen-year-old Ethan, his eyes red and swollen, crying by my bedside, calling me a fool for taking a knife for him. The boy’s fierce, unwavering promise echoed in my mind. “Selene, I swear, I will never let anyone hurt you again.” But the one who hurt me the most, the one who was taking my life piece by piece, was him. The next time I woke, I hadn’t just lost my eyes and the man I loved. I had lost the chance to ever have a child of my own. I opened my eyes to a room so quiet all I could hear was my own shallow breathing. Soon, the faint sound of an argument drifted in from the hallway. “Selene had an accident! I have to take care of her. She’s been so good to me. If it wasn’t for her, I’d still be in the slums. I owe her my life, you can’t stop me…” It was Lily, the student I’d sponsored. And Ethan, a man who never tolerated defiance, spoke with no trace of anger. “Lily, listen to me. Your eyes just healed. The doctor said you need to rest, you can’t be moving around. Selene will have people to look after her. You don’t need to worry.” My hand clenched the bedsheets. When did Lily go blind? And why didn’t I know anything about it? A sharp sting on the back of my hand made me flinch. A nurse had jabbed a needle into my vein. “Don’t move!” she snapped, her voice dripping with irritation. She pressed down harder, as if to punish me. “Some people have all the luck. They get to attend to Mr. Geller’s precious Lily, and I’m stuck here with a blind wreck.” Her muttering continued, “If Miss Lily would just put in a good word for me with Mr. Geller, I’d never have to look at another pathetic patient like you again…” CRASH! The sound of a glass vial shattering on the floor cut her off. “Ah! Who dares— M-Mr. Geller! What are you doing here…?” The nurse’s voice went from angry to terrified. Ethan’s voice, cold with fury, echoed through the room, making my blood run cold. “Get out. And never let me see you again.” A familiar warmth enveloped me as his body, trembling slightly, surrounded me. His voice was thick with guilt. “I’m so sorry, Selene. I’m late. I’m so sorry you had to go through that…” A bitter smile twisted my lips. Compared to having my eyes and my womb stolen by him, this was nothing. But he seemed consumed by remorse, holding me so tightly I could barely breathe. “I don’t want to be here anymore,” I whispered. “I want to go home.” His warm breath ghosted across my neck. “As soon as the doctor clears you, I’ll take you home.” He didn’t know that the home I meant wasn’t his villa. It was the Christian estate, the seat of one of the capital’s most powerful families. Years ago, during a period of internal turmoil within the family, my father sent me to the coastal city of Seacliff to hide. But my enemies found me anyway. I was cornered in an alley when Ethan appeared, taking a knife that was meant for me. In that single moment, love at first sight became my reality. We ended up at the same university, falling into a passionate romance that was the envy of everyone around us. That was when Lily appeared. I saw her eating plain bread for every meal, and my heart went out to her, recognizing her talent. So, I decided to sponsor her. She was endlessly grateful, and we became inseparable friends. I just never knew when she and Ethan ended up in the same bed. Or when he started loving her instead of me. Ethan tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear, his voice softer than I’d ever heard it. “Selene, let’s go ahead with the wedding tomorrow, okay? I can’t wait to make you my wife, to call you Mrs. Geller.” The wedding I had dreamed of for years now felt like a nightmare waiting to happen. I shook my head softly. “No.” He was stunned by my refusal. He let go of me, explaining with uncharacteristic patience, “I know you’re scared. Don’t worry, I’ll handle everything. I’ll make sure no one dares to say a word about your… condition. Lily will be your maid of honor, she’ll help you.” “And the officiant is Julian Christian, the head of the Christian family from the capital. I promised you the grandest wedding, and I’ll deliver.” Hearing my older brother’s name, my hand shot out and gripped his sleeve. The Christians didn’t know I was in Seacliff. They certainly didn’t know that Ethan Geller’s fiancée was me. After refusing an arranged marriage to a blue-blooded scion, I’d run away from home in a fit of anger and never contacted them again. A sour knot formed in my stomach. I couldn’t imagine the look on my brother’s face when he saw me like this—broken and blind. Suddenly, a weight settled on my arm, followed by a bright, anxious voice. “Selene! I was so worried about you! Don’t you worry, from now on, I’ll be your eyes. I’ll take care of you forever…” Ethan cut her off, a hint of unease in his voice. “Don’t be ridiculous, Lily. Selene’s blindness is only temporary.” Lily caught on immediately, resting her head on my shoulder. “You’re right, I’m sorry. Maybe by tomorrow, Selene’s eyes will be all better! Then she can walk down the aisle in her beautiful dress and marry the wonderful Mr. Geller. Oh, Selene, I’m so happy for you.” That innocent, harmless act. It had fooled me for so long. An assistant brought in the wedding gown, and soon it was just me and Lily in the room. “Selene, I heard you designed this dress yourself. It’s stunning. But… the size is a little too big on me, you know?” RRRRIP! The sharp sound of fabric tearing was deafening in the silent room. I knew she had just destroyed my wedding dress. “A blind girl like you has no use for such a beautiful gown anyway. This hospital gown suits you much better.” SPLASH! A searing pain shot through my eyes, like they were being branded with hot irons. The agony stole my voice. My hands trembled as I tried to wipe away the liquid. Lily grabbed my wrists, her grip like steel. Her voice was a venom-laced whisper in my ear. “Your blindness had nothing to do with the car crash, Selene. I just casually mentioned I wanted your eyes, and I never thought Ethan would actually have them cut out for me. The funny thing is, I don’t even need them. They’re filthy. I wouldn’t even feed them to a dog.” “So, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll disappear. Otherwise… who knows what another casual remark from me might make him do to you?” The acidic liquid burned my eyes, but the pain was nothing compared to the agony shredding my heart. The sound of leather shoes approached. Lily roughly wiped the fluid from my eyes, then yanked my hand up into the air. SLAP! A fiery sting exploded across my palm. Before I could process what happened, a powerful shove sent me stumbling backward. My head slammed into the wall behind me, and a high-pitched ringing filled my ears. “Selene! You’ve lost your sight, not your mind! How could you hit Lily? She’s still recovering!” I couldn’t see the expression on Ethan’s face, but his voice was a torrent of fury. I knew he had lost control. In all the years we’d been together, he had never been this angry. His voice, dripping with menace, echoed above me. “Apologize to her. Now. Or the wedding is off.” He knew how much this wedding meant to me, that my greatest wish for years was to walk down the aisle and marry him. Just as he expected, I lowered my head as if I were the one at fault. The residue in my eyes stung with every blink. My voice trembled with pain. “I’m sorry, Lily.” A cold, dismissive voice came from the doorway. “I’ll have someone pick you up at eight tomorrow morning.” What Ethan didn’t know was that for me, tomorrow’s wedding wasn’t a celebration. It was an escape. It was the day I would finally leave him for good. The next morning, an assistant picked me up. Just as Lily had said, I arrived at the venue wearing nothing but my hospital gown. The hem of her own dress brushed against my bare ankles as she placed the veil over my head. She let out a small, mocking laugh. “Happy wedding day, Selene. You really think putting on a veil makes you a bride? It’s just to hide your useless eyes so you don’t embarrass everyone.” When she didn’t see the despair she expected on my face, her good mood soured. But before she could say more, Ethan’s displeased voice cut through the air. “Where is the gown I had prepared for you? Selene, are you trying to punish me? You’re going to marry me looking like this?” The assistant led me towards a dressing room. As I was about to remove the hospital gown, a man’s excited voice came from behind me. “Well, well. She’s a blind one, but she’s a real looker. Don’t you scream, now, sweetheart. I’ll be sure to take good care of you.” His hands were on me, violently tearing at my clothes. I fought back with all my strength, but he was too strong. I opened my mouth and bit down hard on his arm. “You little bitch!” Enraged, he threw me to the floor. His hot, ragged breath washed over my neck. Just as he ripped my gown open, a sharp, surprised female voice cried out from the doorway. “Selene! How could you, on your wedding day with Mr. Geller? How could you do this to him…?” The man above me froze, then spoke in a casual, panting voice. “She’s the one who came onto me. I’m not interested in some blind piece of trash.” As soon as he finished, a chorus of accusations erupted around me. The vicious words were like venomous snakes, striking from all directions. “I can’t believe his fiancée is blind!” “No wonder she’s blind. To throw away a man like Mr. Geller to cheat with someone else… tsk, tsk.” “What a shameless tramp!” I scrambled to cover my exposed body, pulling my torn clothes around me. I buried my head in my knees, my entire body shaking violently. Suddenly, the room fell silent, the only sound a set of heavy, deliberate footsteps. “Selene. You dared to betray me?” A hand clamped around my neck, squeezing hard. Ethan’s eyes, I imagined, were bloodshot, the veins on his hands bulging. I used every last bit of my strength to force out three words. “I… did… not…” The feeling of suffocation closed in. Just as I thought I would pass out, he released my throat, only to grab my chin in a bruising grip. “Selene, you of all people should know how much I hate betrayal. You must have lost your mind to throw yourself at a man like that. Fine. In that case, you won’t be needing to attend this wedding.” “Security! Take her to the psychiatric hospital!” As hands grabbed me, forcing me to my feet, my heart plummeted. If they sent me to a mental hospital now, I would never make it back to my family. The thought gave me a surge of adrenaline. I twisted violently, breaking free from their grasp, and ran. “Get her!” Ethan’s furious roar echoed behind me, along with the sound of countless running feet. My heart hammered against my ribs. Darkness. I couldn’t see a thing, but I couldn’t stop. I just ran, blindly, desperately, praying for a chance at survival. Suddenly, I slammed into a warm chest. A familiar, urgent voice called out from above. “Selene!” It was my brother. Julian. All the strength drained from my body, and I collapsed into his arms. Seeing my pale, bloodless face, Julian reached up to cup my cheek, his voice trembling almost imperceptibly. “Selene, what have you done to yourself? Where have you been all these years…? I finally… I finally found you.” A single tear fell onto my face. I reached up, wanting to wipe it away for him, but I had no idea where his face was. Julian noticed instantly. “Selene, what’s wrong with your eyes?” Before I could answer, Ethan’s voice, tight with restrained fury, cut through the air. “Selene. Come here.” I flinched. Feeling my terror, Julian gently patted my back, his voice a soothing murmur. “It’s okay, Selene. I’m here. No one is ever going to hurt you again.” I nodded, too choked up to speak, and let my body relax into his embrace. Seeing me close my eyes, resting peacefully against Julian’s shoulder, Ethan’s face darkened into a thunderous mask. He glared at Julian. “Let go of my fiancée.” A flicker of surprise crossed Julian’s eyes before understanding dawned, and a chilling aura began to radiate from him. Just as the tension was about to snap, Lily appeared between them. Seeing Julian’s distinguished air, she offered a sweet, innocent smile. “Sir, her name is Selene Christian. She’s Mr. Geller’s fiancée. She recently went blind and has been… under a lot of stress. She’s not well. It would be best if you let us take her for treatment, before she accidentally hurts you.” Julian’s eyes were stormy. “Get out of my sight.” Humiliation twisted Lily’s pretty face, and her eyes welled with tears. Ethan pulled her into his arms, then waved a dismissive hand. “I don’t care who you are. You’re not walking out of here today.” A group of black-suited bodyguards swarmed forward. A dark, knowing smile played on Julian’s lips. “It’s been a long time since someone was this eager to die.” He let out a soft, sharp whistle. Instantly, three imposing men with the subtle crest of our family tattooed on their necks stormed in. Within moments, the black-suited guards were scattered on the floor. A guest in the crowd gasped. “That’s the Christian family’s elite security detail!” “I heard the head of the family, Julian Christian, was officiating today! I can’t believe it’s really him!” The room erupted. Seeing the murderous look on Julian’s face, many of the more cautious guests began to quietly exit the hotel, not wanting to get caught in the crossfire. Lily’s face was a mask of shock. The man protecting me was the head of one of the capital’s most powerful families. Her nails dug into her palms, her eyes overflowing with a venomous envy. “Mr. Christian, there must be some misunderstanding! She’s not worth it! She’s just a blind woman who was in another man’s arms moments ago! You don’t have to…” SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! The sharp cracks of open palms hitting flesh echoed through the room, punctuated by Lily’s piercing screams. “Ahhh!” Julian’s voice was dangerously calm. “Anyone who has ever harmed Selene meets the same end.”

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The first thing my best friend did was threaten me with our old chat logs. “Hey girlie,” she texted. “I’ve gone through three phones, but I never deleted our conversations. I was waiting for a day like today.” “Don’t you forget where you came from. You promised that if you ever made it big, you’d take care of me for life.” “So, let’s start with a new apartment. Your secrets are my insurance policy, after all.” I smiled and agreed. But even after I bought her the apartment, she leaked the chat logs anyway. She said she needed to expose my “dirt” to launch her own channel. I was cyberbullied into a deep depression and fell from a rooftop. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day I decided to become a content creator. 1 “Claire, my bestie! Are you really going to do it? Start your own channel?” When I heard Lily’s familiar voice, I knew. I had been reborn. In my past life, from the moment I started creating content, Lily became exactly like all those “best friends” you see in the comments online. Just waiting for me to go viral so she could live off my success. “Our chat history is the most valuable thing we have now,” she’d said. “I won’t delete a single word. When you’re famous, this is all prime dirt.” “If you dare forget about me,” she’d joked, “your downfall will be swift. Career announced in the morning, receipts leaked by noon, and you’re canceled by evening.” At the time, I thought she was just kidding. She was my only real friend, after all. If I made it, of course she’d share in the rewards. And I did make it. I went viral, just as I’d dreamed. I treated her like family, showering her with cars, apartments, and cash. But at the absolute peak of my career, she went live and broadcast our private conversations to the world. “Claire,” she’d said, “you’ve hit the social media jackpot. Surely you won’t mind letting me get a piece of it?” “Don’t worry, I’m just using you to get my channel off the ground. Once my follower count is stable, I’ll help you clean up your image.” The moment those chats were leaked, my reputation was destroyed. The online hate was relentless. I developed severe depression and ended my life on that rooftop. But now, I’m back. This time, I looked at Lily’s excited face and smiled. “Yeah, I am. But my phone’s dead. Can I borrow yours for a sec?” She eagerly handed it over. “Of course! Use it for whatever you want.” “What’s mine is yours!” she chirped. “Just don’t forget me when you’re famous!” I took her phone, found my own contact, and opened our chat. Then, I deleted the entire history. Lily sprang up like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. “Claire! What are you doing?!” I handed the phone back to her, my face a mask of innocence. “Oh my god, Lily, I’m so sorry. My hand slipped.” I shrugged. “It wasn’t anything important anyway. Deleted is deleted.” Lily fumbled with the phone, her face paling. “What do you mean, not important? That was years of my hard work!” “If you get famous, those were my leverage.” I fought back a cold laugh and wrapped my arm around her shoulder affectionately. “Lily, what’s all this talk about leverage? You’re my one and only bestie. You think I could ever forget you?” She seemed to calm down, her expression softening. She took my arm in return. “I knew you were the best. Then it’s settled. I’m your number one.” My number one? Heh. A backstabbing snake like you? You like launching your career by tearing others down? This time, just watch how I ruin you. 2 Back home, I immediately started filming my first video. I already had the experience of going viral once; recreating my own path to fame wouldn’t be hard. After posting my first transition video, the likes hit over 10,000 that same night. Lily saw it and messaged me instantly. “Claire, your video has 10k likes! I have a feeling you’re about to blow up!” “So, listen, I saw this bag today… maybe you could just buy it for me?” “I mean, with numbers like these, it’s like a small advance on your future earnings, right?” Before I could even reply, she sent a payment link. I clicked it. The bag was nearly five thousand dollars. Just like last time, the moment she saw a flicker of success, she was already demanding her cut. I didn’t reply. I didn’t pay. Late that night, another message came through. “Claire, long night. Wanna see some… spicy videos?” My guard went up immediately. She realized the old chat logs were gone and was now trying to manufacture new dirt. This time, I was smarter. I replied with two simple words. “Not interested.” But Lily persisted, sending a flurry of links. “I’ve vetted all of these. Total eye candy!” “All top-tier guys. You’re missing out if you don’t look~” Honestly, there’s nothing wrong with a girl enjoying a little eye candy. But for a public figure, it’s a liability. In my past life, all of our private, girl-talk moments became tools she used to climb on top of my ruin. My face was grim as I typed back. “Lily, I don’t watch that stuff. Please don’t send it to me again.” She sent back a string of question marks. “Claire, who are you kidding? You used to beg me for this stuff.” “What, one viral video and suddenly you’re a saint? Give me a break.” Her wording was clever. I thought for a moment before replying. “Lily, how could you think that of me?” “When have we ever gone out to eat and I didn’t pay? When you were sick in the middle of the night, didn’t I drive across town to take you to the hospital?” “I’ve never done you wrong. This aggressive attitude of yours is honestly breaking my heart.” Checkmate. Furious, she called me. “Claire, are you insane?” I suppressed my anger and quietly started a voice recording on my other phone. “What’s wrong, Lily? Why are you so angry?” Her shrill voice pierced my ear. “Are you on something? What’s with this saintly act? Have you read the crap you just sent me? Are you possessed?” “And you didn’t buy me the bag I sent you. Didn’t you promise you’d take care of me when you got famous?” “Don’t you forget where you came from.” I faked a sob. “Lily, I’ve had one video do well. I don’t even have a brand deal yet. Where would I get the money?” “You have savings, don’t you? You can afford a five-thousand-dollar bag.” I laid it on thick, playing the victim. “But if I buy you the bag, I won’t have enough money for food.” “You’re so cruel. How could you do this to me?” Lily was losing her patience. “You’ll be earning way more soon! A single brand deal is worth tens of thousands.” I made sure to reinforce my own persona. “Well, even then, I’d have to choose carefully. I can’t just take shady sponsorships.” She blurted out, “Pfft! You and your high horse. If I got famous, I’d take any ad that paid. Money is money!” Hearing that, I was incredibly grateful I had hit record. Seeing that her guilt trip wasn’t working, Lily backed off. “Fine. You’re just starting out, it’s not easy. I’ll let you off the hook this time.” “But the second you land a sponsorship, I’m coming to collect.” 3 After that first taste of viral success, Lily pestered me daily to post new content. This time, I was planning to recreate the video that had garnered tens of millions of likes in my past life, so the prep work took longer. She was impatient. “Ugh, you could post anything and it would go viral. Who takes half a month to make one video?” “At this rate, I’ll be waiting forever for you to support me!” I ignored her and stuck to my own schedule. Three days later, the video was finally edited and ready. The moment I hit “post,” a wave of relief washed over me. After two weeks of exhausting work, I could finally get a good night’s sleep. The next morning, I was woken up by a barrage of calls from Lily. “Claire! Why are you still sleeping? You’ve blown up! Do you know?” “Your video got 5 million likes overnight! You have over a million followers now!” Her voice was electric with excitement. “You’re a real influencer now! You can’t have any more excuses to say no to me!” “Okay, here’s the plan. First, you’re buying me that bag. Then this afternoon, I’m going to go look at cars. What do you think?” I cut off her greedy monologue by hanging up. The next second, I moved her contact to my block list. Phew. The relief was incredible. After I blocked her, she started trying to contact me through our mutual friends. I told them to stay out of it, that it was between me and Lily. One of them messaged me, “Lily says if you don’t respond, she’s going to expose you. She’s saying you forgot your friends the second you got famous.” “She claims she has a lot of dirt on you and that you should watch yourself.” I’d deleted everything. What dirt could she possibly have? She was bluffing. To my surprise, that evening, I stumbled upon Lily’s livestream. The title was: [Spill the Tea! My Influencer Bestie Got Famous and Ditched Me!] For whatever reason, she wasn’t showing her face, hiding behind a virtual avatar mask. “I’m just here to give a warning today,” she said to the camera. “To a certain someone who forgot where she came from. Don’t force me to leak the receipts!” Viewers poured into the stream, the audience growing by the second. The chat was on fire. [Who is it? Can you just drop the name?] [I bet it’s that new girl who just blew up. I saw one of her videos, she looked shady!] [I’m staying neutral. I get burned every time I pick a side in these things.] [Spit it out! If you don’t name names, I’m calling it fake.] Lily waved a dismissive hand. “We were friends for a long time. I don’t want to be too cruel.” “I just hope she sees this stream and has a change of heart. And maybe unblocks me.” The keyboard warriors went wild. [What? Blocked you after getting famous? If my bestie did that, I’d slap her into next week!] [She was never your real friend. You were the first person she cut off when she made it.] [Your ‘bestie’ is probably so high on her main character energy she doesn’t know which way is up.] [If my friend did that to me, I wouldn’t just leak dirt. I’d ruin her so badly she could never make a comeback.] I used to read comments like these and laugh. Now I knew the truth: the first person to resent your success is often the one closest to you. The moment you stop catering to their every whim, they accuse you of changing, of forgetting them. They take the trust you gave them and turn it into a weapon, hoping to bleed you dry for the rest of your life. Lily continued her performance, her voice dripping with false sincerity. “I was with her through everything, through her toughest times. Now that she’s finally made it, I just… I can’t bring myself to hurt her.” The chat erupted in sympathy. [Girls are always too kind. Your friend treats you like this and you’re still protecting her!] [OMG, be my bestie! If I got famous, I’d spoil you rotten.] [Don’t be so soft! You have to expose toxic people like her!] Lily sighed dramatically. “I know, I’m just too soft-hearted.” “If I wasn’t, I’d be dropping all her secrets right now. She has a closet full of skeletons!” I was getting angrier by the second. I switched to my burner account and typed in the chat. [How do we know any of this is real?] [You’re probably just using this drama to launch your own channel!] A few other viewers still had their wits about them. [Yeah, where’s the proof? It’s just you talking to a camera. You could be making it all up.] [Show the receipts or we’re out. I’ve got other drama to catch up on.] [I got played by someone like this last time. I’m not saying a word until I see proof.] But many were completely on Lily’s side. [She already said she doesn’t want to ruin her! What more do you vultures want?] [You’re defending her friend so much, you’re probably the friend herself, aren’t you?] [Big enough to block someone, but too scared to show up on your main account?] [My heart breaks for you, girl. Getting blocked by your ungrateful bestie and still trying to protect her, only to have these people demand proof.] That was the last straw. I pulled Lily out of my block list and sent her a message. What the hell do you think you’re doing? On the livestream, Lily picked up her phone and gasped theatrically. “Oh my god, you guys! My bestie just unblocked me!” “Do you think she’s watching the stream?” The chat flew by. [Was that commenter from before actually her?] [What did she say? Did she apologize?] [Don’t forgive her just like that! She’s not sorry, she’s just scared of her career being ruined!] [Exactly! We support you! Don’t back down!] Lily gave a bitter smile. “You want to know what she said to me?” She covered my profile picture with her thumb and held the phone up for everyone to see. “My ‘bestie’ is demanding to know what the hell I think I’m doing.” As she spoke, tears started to stream down her face. “I thought our friendship of over ten years was unbreakable. That we were more like sisters. But I guess I was the only one who felt that way.” “To her, I was just someone she could throw away the second she got famous.” The chat filled with messages of comfort. [Baby, don’t cry. She’s not worth it.] [You’re so much prettier than her anyway. You should make your own content, you’d be way more successful. I’m your first fan!] [Even after all this, you still didn’t drop her name. You’re such a good person. My heart hurts for you.] [+1. We can’t let ungrateful people succeed. We’ll make you the next big thing!] Lily sniffled, her voice thick with fake emotion. “I’m going to end the stream here for tonight. I need to go talk to her.” “I’ll see you all next time, guys.” She even teased her next stream, a clear ploy to gain followers. Her desperation to be famous was practically leaking through the screen.

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The day I got my wife’s ultrasound report, I heard our unborn child’s voice in my head. Dad, as soon as I’m born, Mom’s going to divorce you! Her first love can’t have kids, see? So she’s just using you to have a baby. Then she can take me and live happily ever after with him! I believed it without a second thought. I filed for divorce immediately. But after the divorce, my health began to fail. I got weaker by the day, until I was diagnosed with cancer. During a chemo session, I ran into my ex-wife. And I heard the voice of the child in her womb again. Haha! Just kidding! Mom never cheated on you! I made it all up! Why would a child lie? I died without ever understanding. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day we got the ultrasound report. 1 “Mr. Clark, congratulations! You’re going to be a father! The report shows the baby is just over two months along.” The doctor’s voice was cheerful. “Now, you’ll need to take extra special care of your wife. Pregnant women can be emotionally sensitive, you know.” Her voice cut through the fog in my mind. I snapped my head up and stared at the report in her hand. It was real. I was back. And in the next second, I heard it. The voice of the child in my wife’s womb. Dad, Mom’s going to divorce you the second I’m born! The voice was identical to the one from my past life. An icy dread washed over me. The chilling memory of my lonely death in that hospital bed came rushing back, sharp and terrifying. Before I could process it, the voice came again. Mom’s first love is sterile! That’s the only reason she married you! You were just a means to an end! A walking sperm donor! Once I’m born, she’ll divorce you, take me, and go live her fairy-tale life with him! Last time, I heard those words and my world collapsed. I didn’t question them for a second. I demanded a divorce. No matter how much my wife, Stella, pleaded and tried to explain, I held fast to the “truth” our child had given me. It wasn’t until I was on my deathbed that I learned it was all a lie. But why? Why would a child do such a thing? This time, I was going to find out. The doctor noticed my pale face. “Mr. Clark, are you alright? Is the news a bit of a shock?” I looked at Stella’s still-flat stomach, a dark thought forming in my mind. “Doctor… this child. Is it… normal?” She blinked, confused. “Are you asking about the baby’s health, Mr. Clark?” I thought about my last life. This child was the reason I lost Stella. What if I chose not to have it? What if I just ignored the voice? Would we have made it? At the very least, when the cancer came, would the woman I loved have been by my side? Would the ending be different if I chose to end it now? I nodded slowly. “This pregnancy was an accident. My wife and I… we weren’t prepared. I’m worried there might be something wrong.” My voice dropped. “What if… we were to terminate…” “Owen, my stomach hurts…” Before I could finish, Stella’s face went white. She clutched her abdomen, sweat beading on her forehead. And the voice returned, sharp and angry. Dad, what are you trying to say to the doctor? You don’t want me, do you? Because that would make me very, very unhappy. I know you love Mom. Even if she betrayed you, the most you’d do is divorce her. You could never bring yourself to let her die, could you? Stella was now in too much pain to speak. I understood. The thing in her womb was listening. To everything. The slightest hint that I didn’t want it, and it would take Stella down with it. But it was right about one thing. I loved Stella more than life itself. In my past life, when I thought she’d betrayed me, the pain had driven me mad. I hadn’t listened to a word she said, just cut her out of my life. In the end, I died on an operating table, never having seen her face one last time. The doctor saw Stella’s agony and her professional calm kicked in. “Ma’am, are you alright?” she asked urgently. “If your health isn’t stable enough for a pregnancy, I have to advise you to prioritize your own well-being. You can always try for another child later.” Stella wiped the sweat from her brow, her teeth gritted. “I’m fine. I can do this.” “Stella, we don’t have to do this. Your health is what matters…” I started, but her face grew even paler, a silent scream in her eyes. The words died in my throat. I turned to the doctor. “Could you prescribe some glucose and vitamins, please? We’re keeping this baby. We’re definitely keeping it.” As soon as the words left my mouth, the voice returned, placated. That’s more like it, Dad. You’d better take good care of Mom. Or I’ll make sure she pays for it. Oh, and by the way, if you don’t listen to me… it won’t just be her life on the line. It’ll be yours, too. The voice trailed off, but the threat hung in the air. The cancer. The sudden, aggressive cancer from my last life… was it because of this thing? But that didn’t make sense. I had already divorced Stella. Why would it come after me then? A cold sweat soaked through my shirt. I didn’t dare say another word. I knew, with absolute certainty, that it was listening. Later that day, back home, Stella took a phone call in the other room. When she came out, she wrapped her arms around my neck. “Honey, I have a class reunion tonight. I’ll be home a little late.” Last time, that phone call was the final nail in our coffin. I had instantly believed the voice in my head, convinced she was meeting her lover. I’d filed for divorce that very night. Not this time. I would not make the same mistake. I forced a smile and nodded. “Okay. Have fun. Take care of yourself… and the baby.” 2 It was four in the morning when I heard Stella creep back into the house. After a quiet shower, she leaned over and kissed my forehead before sliding into bed and wrapping her arms around me. The voice was waiting. Dad, Mom just got back from her little tryst. How can you even sleep? Just divorce her already! Don’t worry, when I grow up, I’ll repay you for everything. The words were identical to my past life. I forced my breathing to stay even, feigning sleep. I replayed the last life in my mind. After I demanded the divorce, Stella had been utterly bewildered. She begged me to reconsider. But I was resolute, and she eventually relented. I gave her everything in the divorce—the house, the savings. I walked away with nothing. She was carrying my child, after all. And she was the woman I had loved for so many years. I never saw her again. After I died, they told me she had a complete mental breakdown. Her reactions last time… they didn’t add up. Could it be true? Had she really never cheated on me? I decided I would talk to her in the morning, tell her everything. But when I woke up, she was already gone. A note was on the kitchen table. Honey, breakfast is on the table and I made you some fresh soy milk. I had to head to work early. See you tonight! A flicker of warmth spread through my chest, but it was immediately extinguished by the voice. Dad, did you see the sweet little note Mom left you? Here’s a newsflash: she’s on a date with him right now! Why won’t you just divorce her already?! Is a woman like that really worth it?! She was at work. Miles away. But the voice was right here, screaming in my head. I didn’t have time to dwell on it, but the more insistent it became, the more certain I was that something was terribly wrong. What was its motive for pushing me toward divorce so hard? Whatever it was, this time, I was going to change my fate. On my way to the office, a mysterious old man in strange, flowing robes grabbed my arm, his face etched with panic. “That which does not belong to you, you must not touch!” I flinched, startled, having no idea what he meant. I figured it was some new kind of street scam and tried to pull away. But his grip was like iron. “A dead man walking should not struggle!” he shouted, his eyes wild. A wave of goosebumps washed over me. I stumbled back. He looked crazy, but the intensity in his eyes was dead serious. I froze, his words echoing in my head. This life doesn’t belong to me? Did he know I was reborn? Did he mean that even with a second chance, I was doomed to die? An overwhelming fear seized me. I opened my mouth to ask him more, but he had already turned and vanished around the corner. Before I could even process the encounter, the voice was back. Dad, who were you talking to?

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The day my stepson was bullied into permanent disability, I called my star lawyer husband. He vowed revenge. But at his firm, I found the case assigned to his intern Molly. He was coaching her for the bar exam while she “accidentally” deleted the key security footage. He sighed, “You can’t be so careless,” then told me: “Not enough evidence. We can’t win.” I argued, but he cut me off: “I’m the lawyer! And you spoiled him—that’s why he was targeted!” He then took Molly out for “fresh air.” Soon, she posted online: “So lucky to have someone who always has my back.” I laughed bitterly. Did he think the victim wasn’t my biological son? My phone vibrated, an unfamiliar number. I answered. “Are you Nathan Holden’s guardian?” “Yes, I am.” “To save the boy’s life, we had to perform an amputation.” The doctor’s voice was a cold, clinical blade over the phone. “Additionally, due to severe nerve damage, he will likely have permanent incontinence.” I hung up, my fingertips ice cold. My assistant, Cathy, watched me with worried eyes. “Ms. Wolf, should I… try to find another lawyer for you?” she asked tentatively, afraid to touch a raw nerve. “There’s a specialist in school bullying cases, I hear he’s one of the best in the city…” “Suing the bullies can wait.” My voice was calm, without a ripple of emotion. “First, contact the legal department. I need them to draft a divorce agreement.” Cathy’s eyes widened for a second, then she gave a firm, determined nod. We drove towards the school. My phone screen lit up. It was Molly. A video popped up. In it, my husband, Grant, was with her in a store overflowing with stuffed animals—a saccharine pink place designed for little girls. He gently placed a fluffy pair of bunny ears on her head. She, in turn, stood on her toes to fit a comical brown bear headband onto his. They flirted without a care in the world, laughing like two fools in the throes of first love. When I didn’t reply, Molly sent another message. “Has Mrs. Holden ever seen this side of the professor?” It was followed by a playful, tongue-out emoji. I felt nothing. It was laughable. I was genuinely curious. When Grant found out that the only son he had with his deceased, sainted first wife had been amputated and turned into a disabled boy who couldn’t even control his own body… Would he still be able to smile then? The moment I stepped into the principal’s office, the greasy-faced man rushed to hand me a settlement agreement. “Mrs. Holden, about this matter… the other family is, well, quite influential. Their father made time in his very busy schedule to come discuss it…” His words were laden with implication. “And, between us, your husband has already unofficially agreed to a settlement.” He paused, his voice turning paternal. “Boys will be boys, you know. A little roughhousing is inevitable. It’s best to keep the peace, let sleeping dogs lie.” I glanced at the document without even bothering to touch it. “In that case, could you please contact his father to come and sign it?” I lowered my gaze, injecting just the right amount of helplessness and sorrow into my voice. “As a stepmother, it’s not really my place…” The principal’s expression froze. I didn’t give him a chance to persuade me further, instead moving on to my next request. “Oh, and since this is being settled privately, it would be… awkward for my younger son, the first-grader, to continue attending here. Perhaps you could help expedite a transfer?” This was exactly what the principal wanted to hear. Within the hour, all the paperwork was done. Just as the final bell rang, I was standing outside the first-grade building. I watched my son, Leo, come flying towards me. “Mommy!” I opened my arms and caught him in a steady embrace. Leo snuggled into my arms, then looked up. “Where’s Daddy?” The smile on my face faded. He understood instantly, muttering under his breath, “Oh. He’s with his student again, isn’t he.” The casual acceptance in his voice was a needle to my heart. I stroked his hair, my resolve to leave Grant hardening into steel. In the car, I didn’t start the engine right away. I opened an app on my phone and, with practiced ease, scheduled the earliest available divorce appointment at City Hall for the day after tomorrow. [Divorce filing submitted. Please arrive with all relevant documents by 9:00 AM on the scheduled date.] I took a screenshot and sent it directly to Grant. [Are you free at nine, the day after tomorrow?] 2 When I got home with Leo, the message still just said [Read]. I stared at the two words for a long moment before dialing his number. It rang for a long time before he picked up. “You can handle the situation with Leo yourself. I’m busy.” I blinked, realizing he hadn’t even bothered to look at the picture. “It’s not about Leo. I want to talk to you about—” “Then I’m even busier!” he snapped. “Are you holding a grudge about today? Is that why you’re trying to drag me away on the day of Molly’s first court appearance?” His voice dripped with contempt. “Linnea, with a mother as paranoid and jealous as you, it’s no wonder the kid gets bullied! Honestly, he deserved it!” His words hung in the air. I started to laugh, a cold, sharp sound, and nodded. “You’re right. He absolutely deserved it.” Then I hung up. My son, who was sipping from a cup, saw the look on my face and watched me with wide, worried eyes. I knelt down and gently wiped a drop of water from his chin. “Sweetheart, Mommy and Daddy are getting a divorce.” “We’re going to move out, and you’re going to a new school.” He stared at me for a second, and then his face lit up. “Really? That’s great!” He cheered, then leaned in close like a little spy and whispered, “Mommy, I have a secret. Nathan used to bully me, too.” “He would rip up my homework, and one time he secretly pushed me down the stairs!” I went rigid, my heart seizing in my chest. I had always thought Nathan’s hostility was directed at me, his stepmother. I never imagined he would torment a first-grader behind my back. A tidal wave of guilt and rage washed over me. What had I been doing all these years? Seeing the undisguised joy in my son’s eyes, I clenched my fists and immediately booked the next available flight. The divorce could wait. Grant could be worn down. But I would not let Leo spend one more day in this house. With that thought, I pulled open the closet and began stuffing my son’s clothes into a suitcase. As I packed, memories of my life with Grant flooded back. We’d met on a blind date. His first wife had recently passed away, and he was drowning in grief, yet still managed to run his law firm and care for his young son. Everyone said he was a devoted, responsible man. I was fooled by the facade, believing a man so loyal to his deceased wife must be a good person. I believed the kindness he showed me was real. After we married, I treated his son, Nathan, as my own. When he had a raging fever in the middle of the night, I was the one who rushed him to three different hospitals while Grant offered a lukewarm “thanks for your trouble” over the phone. When he wanted a rare, out-of-production LEGO Star Wars set that Grant dismissed as childish nonsense, I was the one who called in every favor to import it for him. I thought kindness would beget kindness. Instead, I had raised two vipers. And nearly sacrificed my own son’s future in the process. What a joke. Leo’s suitcase was packed. As I turned to my own closet, I heard a click at the front door. It was being opened from the outside. Grant’s tall frame filled the doorway, blocking the light. His eyes swept over the packed suitcase in the living room and my perfectly healthy son standing beside me. His brow furrowed. “Linnea, what do you think you’re doing?” 3 “I’m taking Leo away for a few days. For a change of scenery.” I met his gaze, offering a plausible excuse. “You’re busy with Molly’s case, right? Don’t worry about us.” My words were like a match to a fuse. Grant’s face instantly darkened. He stormed over and slammed a file onto the table in front of me, the papers scattering. “Linnea, you’ve really gone all out with this little drama, haven’t you? All to get my attention. How pathetic!” The edge of a paper cut my cheek, a small, stinging pain. I looked down and saw it was a signed settlement agreement. He pointed a finger at me, his voice shaking with rage. “And I actually fell for it! I thought something had really happened to Leo at school. I canceled a meeting to rush back here!” “And for what? For you to play games with me!” His gaze shifted from my face to my healthy son hiding behind me, then to the suitcase on the floor. His expression was a mask of derision. “What’s next? You’re going to run away from home?” “Linnea, your tactics are getting more and more pathetic.” Just then, a soft, hesitant voice came from the doorway. “Professor, please don’t be angry with Mrs. Holden.” Molly stood there, holding a beautiful fruit basket, peering in like a frightened fawn. “I’m sure she was just worried about you… It was all just a misunderstanding. The important thing is that Leo is okay.” Her words were gasoline on the fire. The look Grant gave me was filled with even more contempt. “You hear that? Even Molly, a student, has more sense than you!” He pulled her to his side, his arm protectively around her. “And you? What are you good for, besides throwing tantrums?” He looked down at me, his voice dripping with disgust. “And if you leave now, what about Nathan? Who’s going to take care of him?” The irony of him shielding Molly while lecturing me about my responsibility to his other son was so absurd I almost laughed. Molly, sensing her advantage, gently tugged on his arm. “Professor, it’s getting late. I still need to prep for tomorrow’s hearing. Could you help me go over the materials one more time?” Grant’s expression immediately softened. “Of course,” he said, his voice now full of affection. As they headed for the stairs, he threw one last, cold command over his shoulder. “And don’t forget to pick Nathan up from his tutoring class at nine.” Just before they disappeared, Molly, still clinging to Grant’s arm, looked back at me. She smiled, and her innocent eyes were filled with the triumphant gloating of a victor. I watched them go, my heart a sea of calm. Pick up Nathan? I thought of the boy lying unconscious in the ICU and raised an eyebrow. If Grant hadn’t reminded me, I might have actually forgotten about the little prince in the ICU waiting for someone to wipe his ass for him. I wasn’t doing that dirty work anymore. I took out my phone and sent a text to Grant’s parents. [Mom, Dad, there’s been an accident with your grandson. Could you please come to City Hospital tomorrow?] With that done, I checked the time, then called a car. Leo and I were going to the airport. That night, after watching his small figure disappear through security with a flight attendant, I finally breathed a sigh of relief. Once Leo landed safely with my parents, I would have nothing left to hold me back. I didn’t sleep. The moment I got into a cab back to the city, the hospital called. The nurse sounded frantic. “Is this Nathan Holden’s guardian? The boy is awake and extremely agitated. You need to get here as soon as possible.” When I arrived, the private ward was in chaos. The moment Nathan saw me, his eyes turned bloodshot. He looked like a cornered animal. “You! It was you, you evil bitch! You’re the reason I lost my leg!” He screamed hysterically, grabbing whatever he could from the bedside table and hurling it at me. “I’m gonna have my dad kill you! I’m gonna have him get you and everyone who bullied me arrested and executed!” The head nurse, trying to restrain him, couldn’t help but retort, “What are you talking about, son? Your father already signed a settlement. He’s not pressing charges against anyone.” Another, younger nurse muttered under her breath, “Some people are just crazy for money. Your own son is disabled, and you settle for cash…” “Impossible! You’re lying!” Nathan thrashed even more violently, breaking free from the nurses’ grip. He snatched an empty vase and threw it at me with all his might. I couldn’t dodge in time. It struck me on the temple. A sharp, blinding pain, followed by the warm trickle of blood down my face. The nurses rushed to pin him down and administer a sedative. Finally, the world was quiet. The head nurse helped me to a bench in the hallway and began cleaning my wound. “Mrs. Holden, please don’t take it too hard. It’s normal for patients to be emotionally unstable after an amputation.” I didn’t answer, just gritted my teeth against the sting of the antiseptic. Two figures rushed out of the elevator. Grant’s parents. My mother-in-law saw the gash on my forehead and, instead of concern, her face hardened with blame. “What is wrong with you? You can’t even watch a child? Getting yourself injured in a hospital, you’re utterly useless!” She looked me up and down with undisguised contempt. “I told you to quit your job and be a stay-at-home mother, but you wouldn’t listen! Now look at you!” My father-in-law chimed in. “Exactly. Can’t handle one simple thing. It’s a good thing it was Leo who got into a little trouble this time. If it had been our Nathan, you’d be in for it!” They went on, their words dripping with disdain for me and my son. “I heard about that little fight Leo got into at school… honestly, boys will be boys, what’s the big deal? And you had to bother my son about it! Sometimes you just have to let things go. Now you’ve made it so awkward, how is Leo supposed to face his classmates?” The head nurse, who had heard enough, finally interrupted. “Excuse me, but this wasn’t just a scrape. The boy had an amputation. He won’t just have trouble going to school… he may never live independently again.” The expressions on their faces froze. A second later, my mother-in-law shrieked like a scalded cat. “Amputation? He’s a cripple?!” She shoved me away, her face contorted in disgust. “We don’t raise cripples in our family! Linnea, you’re a jinx! A curse on this house!” I let her push me, pressing the gauze to the bleeding wound on my head. I smiled faintly. “You’re right, Mom. The Holden family certainly doesn’t support freeloaders. That’s why I’m divorcing your son and called you both here, so you can take proper care of your precious grandson.” “Why should we have to take care of your crippled son?!” she shot back without thinking. I looked at her face, twisted with fury, and my smile widened. “Who told you it was my son who was hurt?”

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At the altar, my own wedding altar, Jack Hayes held Mia Clark in his arms and made his announcement to the world. “Mia and I… we’re the ones who are truly in love. The woman I intend to marry today is her.” A collective gasp swept through the chapel. Every eye, filled with shock and pity, turned to me. But I didn’t scream. I didn’t cause a scene. In front of all our guests, I moved with a grace that felt foreign even to myself. I walked toward him, my couture gown rustling softly, and executed a perfect, polite curtsy. “My affection for you ends here, Jack.” “I wish you a happy marriage.” And, I added silently, this time, I wouldn’t let my own foolish heart lead my family to ruin. 1. The moment Jack’s resonant voice faded, the air crackled with the guests’ sharp inhales. I was, without a doubt, the tragic centerpiece of this spectacle. “Genevieve, it wasn’t until I met Mia that I understood what love truly is,” he continued, his voice thick with performative sincerity. “She’s taught me so much. My heart belongs only to Mia, and she’s the only one I want to marry.” “So please, I’m asking you to grant us your blessing.” The two of them gazed at each other, their eyes brimming with a love so profound it was almost theatrical. It was a perfect portrait, casting me as the wicked witch trying to tear two star-crossed lovers apart. Buoyed by Jack’s support, Mia found her courage. “Miss Sinclair,” she began, her voice trembling just so, “Jack doesn’t love you. Why force him into this? You can’t force happiness. A marriage without love is a prison. Jack and I are truly in love… please, I’m begging you, let us be together.” Her plea hung in the air, thick with manufactured desperation. I looked at them, clinging to each other on the stage that should have been mine, and a faint smile touched my lips. From the age of ten, I knew I would marry Jack Hayes. To become a woman worthy of standing by his side, I had sacrificed my childhood. While other girls played with dolls, I was studying wine tasting and art appreciation. While they compared pretty dresses, I had committed to memory the lineage and ledgers of every influential family in Crestwood. While they fretted over getting a perfect score on a final exam, I was mastering the delicate art of social politics, all to become the perfect partner for him. I knew that the woman beside Jack Hayes could never be a mere ornament. Perhaps it was that lifelong obsession that had twisted me into something unrecognizable. Marrying him, becoming the matriarch of the Hayes family, had become my sole purpose. I couldn’t even tell if it was love or a desperate need for possession. But in my past life, the title I had fought tooth and nail for became the very sword Jack used to destroy my family’s company, Sinclair Industries. This time, I had no intention of sinking into the toxic mire of the Hayes family. I gathered the skirt of my custom-made gown and walked, step by deliberate step, toward the stage. My family’s bodyguards trailed behind me, their bodies tense, ready to tackle me to the ground at the slightest hint of a scene. But I simply stopped, a good ten feet from Jack. I curtsied again, my form flawless, my posture elegant. “My affection for you ends here, Jack.” “And again, I wish you a happy marriage.” Jack stared, clearly stunned. He had obviously braced himself for a fight, a tantrum, anything but this quiet, swift acceptance. The next second, his mother, Mrs. Hayes, stormed the stage. She lunged for Mia, her hand raised to strike, but Jack intercepted her, shielding Mia with his own body. Forgetting all decorum, his mother unleashed a torrent of fury. “You worthless, ungrateful boy! Casting aside a perfect match from a fine family for this… this nobody from nowhere! You’ve shamed us all! What can she do besides play the victim and manipulate your pity?” Mia’s face flushed a deep crimson, but Jack only held her tighter, as if she were a priceless treasure. “Genevieve has everything and everyone,” he declared, his voice ringing with conviction. “But Mia… she only has me. Genevieve and I grew up together. If a spark was ever going to happen, it would have happened by now. I don’t love her! Why does everyone keep trying to force us together? There’s no happiness in a loveless marriage. I want the world to know that Mia is the only one I love, and I want to give her the best of everything!” His impassioned, self-righteous speech earned a few muffled snickers from the guests. Marriages among the elite were never so simple. Then, Jack turned his righteous anger on me. “You don’t love me either, do you? A business merger like us would never be happy.” I didn’t answer. Instead, I silently slipped the engagement ring from my finger. I was about to return it when I noticed a dazzling, expensive-looking diamond already gracing Mia’s ring finger. A humorless smile played on my lips. I turned to the bodyguard beside me, took his gloved hand, and placed my ring in his palm. “Return to sender.” Mrs. Hayes grabbed my arm, her eyes pleading with me to stay. But my father stepped in, firmly removing her hand. “Since the Hayes family has clearly made other arrangements, we will not impose any longer.” With that, he took my arm and led me away, his back ramrod straight with fury. Because of a careless joke made by our parents years ago, I had spent eighteen years loving Jack Hayes. I’d endured the sneers of our social circle, who called me his lapdog, and I had simply smiled through it. Their laughter meant nothing because I knew that, in the end, I would be the one marrying into the Hayes family. It was only when I had finally clawed my way to that position that I realized my foolishness had dragged me, and my parents, into an abyss. This time, I was done playing their game. That den of vipers? They could have it. 2. The moment we were in the car, my father’s rage erupted. “That bastard Jack Hayes! To abandon my daughter at the altar… Unbelievable! First thing tomorrow, I’m telling my secretary to halt all joint ventures with the Hayes corporation!” he thundered, his voice bouncing off the leather interior. “If it weren’t for my respect for his father, who would ever want to marry their daughter to that piece of trash! My Genevieve is brilliant, accomplished! The line of suitors is a mile long, and he dares to humiliate her like this? I need to hire someone to teach that punk a lesson he’ll never forget.” My mother tried to soothe him, but it was no use. If my father had a machine gun right now, I was certain he’d level the entire Hayes estate. A small laugh escaped my lips. My father stopped his tirade, looking at me with concern. “Honey, have you been shocked into a daze?” I squeezed my parents’ hands, feeling the warmth of their skin against mine. It wasn’t the cold, lifeless touch I remembered. The raw emotion of it all made my eyes well up. Thinking I was heartbroken, my dad immediately ordered the driver to turn back around to confront Jack. I quickly stopped him. “Dad, even if Jack hadn’t pulled this stunt today, I was going to call off the wedding.” My father’s mouth opened, but he swallowed his curiosity, afraid of upsetting me further. I watched the city lights streak past the window before turning to face my parents, my expression serious. “Here, at home, I’m the apple of your eye, cherished and protected. But if I went to the Hayes family, I’d be nothing more than a pawn to secure their business, a vessel for producing an heir.” They stared at me, completely bewildered. In my previous life, when Jack had brought Mia to crash our wedding, I had fought back with the ferocity of a cornered animal. I was determined to marry him, even if it meant turning our wedding into a battlefield. The dress was torn, champagne glasses shattered, and the beautifully decorated venue was reduced to rubble. In the end, under pressure from all sides, Jack had relented. He married me, his heart full of resentment, and thus began the tragic second act of my life. To punish me for “stealing” Mia’s place, Jack was cold and distant. He began a hostile takeover of my family’s company as his ultimate revenge. My mother-in-law, blaming me for failing to secure her son’s heart, grew more critical by the day. “You’ve been married into this family for how long now, and still no sign of a pregnancy?” she would sneer. I could only offer a bitter smile in return. Because of Jack’s disdain, the entire Hayes clan treated me with contempt. Eventually, Sinclair Industries was fully acquired. My parents, broken and defeated, jumped from their office building. I was left with nothing, a pathetic dependent living on the scraps of the Hayes family’s charity. The final straw was the news of Mia giving birth to Jack’s child. I looked my parents in the eyes, my voice steady. “That kind of life… it would be a living hell. An agony I couldn’t bear.” A gilded cage like that was its own special kind of torture. No identity, no joy. A world where even I couldn’t protect myself—and yet, it was the very world Mia was desperate to enter. Perhaps with Jack protecting her, things would be different. But none of that mattered to me anymore. After hearing me out, my parents’ brows were deeply furrowed as they processed the weight of my words. Finally, my father’s gaze softened. “Then what do you want to do now, my dear?” “I’m going to go back to school. Get my master’s.” Then, I let myself be a child again, burrowing into my mother’s arms. “Sinclair Industries is my future, after all. I’m going to make it stronger than ever before.” The heavy atmosphere in the car was shattered by my father’s booming laugh. “Hahaha! That’s my girl! The daughter of Robert Sinclair! I’ll have my assistant make the arrangements immediately.” Within days, all the paperwork for my studies abroad was complete. The day I left, I told no one. A heavy snow was falling, blanketing the city in white, just like it had on New Year’s Eve all those years ago. A younger Jack had proudly taken my hand in front of our families, announcing with childish bravado, “This is my girl!”—sending the adults into peals of laughter. It was all just a misunderstanding in the end. I scrolled through the news on my phone before boarding. A headline caught my eye, accompanied by a picture of Jack and Mia: Cinderella and Prince Charming Finally Get Their Happily Ever After. I smiled softly. I switched off my phone, picked up my boarding pass, and walked away without a backward glance. 3. Three years later, I returned with a master’s degree, ready to officially take the reins of the company. To celebrate my homecoming, my friends in our social circle threw me a welcome-back party. I’d developed a taste for fine liquor during my years away, so my best friend, Chelsea, had chosen a chic, upscale bar. The moment I walked in, however, my eyes landed on Jack, sitting alone in a dim corner. He saw me at the same time. Our gazes met, and I frowned involuntarily. “What’s he doing here?” Chelsea shrugged. “You know how it is. Our circle isn’t that big. The second news of your return broke, it spread like wildfire. Of course, the Hayes family heard about it.” I nodded. In our world, the slightest whisper could become public knowledge in minutes. Especially with my parents, who were prone to bragging about me. I glanced back at Jack. He was radiating a “do not approach” vibe. “Is Mia not with him?” I asked. Chelsea leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Don’t even get me started! She’s the walking punchline of our entire social circle. Anyone who gets associated with her ends up being ostracized. It’s like she’s cursed. So everyone keeps their distance.” I gave her a questioning look, but she just shook her head, not wanting to elaborate further. Instead, she pushed me toward the crowd with a grin. “Alright everyone! Tonight, if our girl Genevieve walks out of here sober, it’s on every single one of you!” That was all the encouragement they needed. One by one, they came up to toast me, and I graciously accepted each drink with a smile. For three years, I had poured every ounce of my energy into my studies, wishing I had eight brains to absorb all the information. Now that I was back, I deserved to let loose. I’d only had a few drinks when a hand closed over my glass, pulling it away. It was Jack. “You’re a lightweight. Don’t drink so much.” I was not in the mood for his unsolicited concern. I simply took the glass back. He tried to grab it again, but I sidestepped him easily. “Don’t be a spoilsport, Mr. Hayes,” I said, my tone light but firm. God, I hated men who thought they could make decisions for me. My playful rebuke clearly caught him off guard. He just stood there, stunned. I had always navigated these social scenes with ease, and now, my skills were even sharper. I didn’t need a knight, and I certainly didn’t need a prince to protect me. Turning my back on him, I clinked glasses with the handsome son of a real estate tycoon. Jack remained half a step behind me for the rest of the night, a silent, brooding shadow. I didn’t give him another glance. Suddenly, someone shouted, “Look, fireworks!” I turned toward the large window. The night sky had erupted in a dazzling display of color. Brilliant bursts of white, red, and yellow painted the darkness. Jack moved to stand beside me, holding his drink. He leaned in close, his voice a low murmur in my ear. “Do you like them?” When I didn’t respond, he smiled faintly. “I promised I’d give you a spectacular fireworks show one day. It’s a shame you were abroad all these years. I never got the chance.” I watched the vibrant explosions silently. He had said that once, a long time ago. But childish promises fade with time, lost to the river of years. And I no longer needed them. I pulled myself back to the present and gently tapped my glass against his. I offered him a perfect, practiced smile. “Thank you for the gift, Mr. Hayes.” My detached, formal reply seemed to throw him. “You’ve changed,” he murmured, his voice low.

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My husband, Adrian Thorne, was a world-renowned pianist. He despised my hands—hands he claimed were made only for coarse labor. One day, after I’d dared to dust his grand piano, he melted a bowl of searing wax. Without a flicker of emotion, he seized my hands and plunged them deep into the molten liquid. “This,” he whispered in my ear as I screamed, “is your punishment for defiling art.” To avoid his wrath, I never touched his precious piano again. Until his birthday. He came home drunk, took my hands in his, and guided them over the black and white keys, playing the favorite song of his first love. Tears streamed down his face as he murmured, “So… your hands can be this soft, too.” In that moment, I naively believed he had finally let go of the past, that he had finally seen me. But the next morning, I was held down by two burly men, forced to watch as my husband took a hammer and, with the chilling precision of a metronome, shattered the bones in my fingers, one by one. He watched me writhe on the floor, then calmly poured himself a glass of red wine. “How dare these hands,” he mused, his voice cold as ice, “recreate a melody meant only for Celeste? Garbage… must be destroyed.” 1 The fluorescent lights of the hospital ceiling were a blinding glare. I wanted to shield my eyes, but my hands were wrapped into two thick, white bundles, suspended in the air. Every breath sent a fresh spike of agony through them. My orthopedic surgeon held up the X-rays, his expression a mask of professional regret. “Mrs. Thorne, you have comminuted fractures in all ten fingers. The nerve reconstruction in three of them was not optimal.” He sighed. “From now on, you should avoid lifting heavy objects and any fine motor activities.” Adrian hadn’t just shattered my hands. He had taken a hammer to my entire life, piece by piece, and smashed it to dust. I stared at the gauze-wrapped clubs that used to be my hands. I tried to smile, but the corners of my mouth wouldn’t obey. The door creaked open, and my husband, Adrian Thorne, walked in. Impeccably dressed in an expensive bespoke suit, he was an alien of sterile perfection in the drab hospital room. He didn’t look at me. He walked straight to the window and pulled back the curtains. Sunlight flooded in, and I flinched, my eyes squeezing shut. “What did the doctor say?” he asked. His voice was as crisp and cool as the highest notes on his keyboard. I said nothing. He finally turned to me, a slight frown creasing his brow. “Lina, I’m talking to you.” “Just as you wished,” I rasped, my voice a dry, unfamiliar sound from my chapped lips. “I’ll never touch your piano again.” Adrian’s expression remained unchanged. He simply nodded. From the fruit basket he’d brought, he selected an apple and began to peel it with a small, sharp knife. The peel came off in a single, unbroken spiral, a work of art in his grasp. He had the most perfect hands in the world—long, elegant fingers, with well-defined knuckles. These were the hands hailed as “kissed by God,” capable of weaving the most magnificent symphonies. And, with the same flawless precision, of shattering his wife’s bones. He sliced the peeled apple into small, neat pieces and held one to my lips. I turned my head away, avoiding the hand that had brought me such ruin. His hand froze in mid-air. After a few seconds, he retracted it. “Don’t be difficult.” “Lina, you should know by now what you can and cannot touch.” He popped the piece of apple into his own mouth, chewing slowly, deliberately, as if savoring my pain. “That melody does not belong to you.” “Remember this lesson.” 2 After Adrian left, my mother-in-law arrived, carrying a thermos of chicken soup. She slammed it down on the bedside table the moment she entered. The greasy smell hit me like a wave, and I fought back a surge of nausea. “Lina, what did you do this time to make Adrian so angry?” The blame in her eyes was raw and undisguised. “Don’t you know his world tour starts next month? Are you trying to ruin his career by causing trouble now?” I looked at her, a bitter, hollow laugh stuck in my throat. I was causing trouble? “Mother, your son broke my hands.” She scoffed, pulling a chair to the bedside and studying me with an air of aristocratic disdain. “If he hit you, you must have done something to deserve it.” “I told you from the start, a woman from your background was never good enough for our Adrian. What can you do besides housework? And now you’ve even forgotten your place and touched his piano?” “That isn’t just a piano—it’s his life! Better for you to lose a hand than for him to lose his future!” And my life? Was my life not a life? I closed my eyes, unwilling to argue. Trying to reason with a Thorne was a fool’s errand, an argument you were destined to lose before it even began. Seeing my silence, she must have mistaken it for submission. Her tone softened slightly. “Don’t blame Adrian. He’s been through so much.” “Celeste has been gone for years, but he’s never moved on.” Celeste. Adrian’s first love. The only woman he deemed worthy of touching his piano, a fallen piano prodigy. “He was drunk yesterday. He thought you were Celeste. That’s why he lost control. As his wife, you should be more understanding. It’s a small price to pay.” My eyes snapped open, the hatred in them so intense it could have burned her. “So, when he realized I wasn’t Celeste, he decided to destroy my hands?” My glare made her flinch, but her shock quickly morphed into anger. “What is this attitude? You think you’ve grown wings?” “Let me tell you something, Lina. There are countless women who would kill to be Mrs. Thorne. Don’t be so ungrateful!” She stormed out, slamming the door behind her. I stayed in the hospital for two weeks. Adrian never visited again. But every day, a delivery of fresh, expensive fruit and gourmet supplements would arrive, piling up on my nightstand. A silent, condescending charity. 3 On the day of my discharge, the Thorne family driver was there to pick me up. I refused to get in the car and called a taxi instead. The driver looked distressed. “Ma’am, Mr. Thorne instructed me…” “Tell him I need some time alone.” I went back to the house I shared with Adrian. When I pushed the door open, a pair of new women’s slippers sat in the entryway, a size too small for me. In the living room, the black Steinway grand piano gleamed, polished to perfection. A young woman I’d never seen before was carefully dusting the lid with a feather duster. She started when she saw me, looking flustered. “You are?” I didn’t answer. My eyes moved past her to a woman’s trench coat draped over the sofa. It was exactly Celeste’s style. Looking closer, the girl herself bore a striking resemblance to her. Understanding seemed to dawn on her, and a blush crept up her cheeks. “I’m the new piano maintenance specialist Mr. Thorne hired. My name is—” “Get out.” My voice was quiet, but it held a steel that couldn’t be disobeyed. The girl froze. “But Mr. Thorne…” “I said, get out,” I repeated, looking her straight in the eye. My expression must have terrified her. She hastily put down her things and fled. I walked to the piano. This instrument was Adrian’s sacred ground. He once told me my hands were only good for washing vegetables, that to touch his piano was to defile it. In three years of marriage, I had never laid a finger on it. Now, my hands were ruined. I could never play again. I could no longer threaten the sacred memory of the woman in his heart. I reached out with my still-bandaged hand and let it rest gently on the piano lid. It was cold and hard, just like Adrian’s heart. The front door opened behind me. Adrian was home. His eyes fell on my hand on his piano, and his gaze turned to ice. “What did I tell you?” His voice was a low growl, thick with a rage that felt ready to tear me apart. I didn’t turn around. I simply slid my stiff, unbending fingers across the smooth, polished surface. “Adrian, let’s get a divorce.” The silence in the room was absolute. After a long moment, a cold laugh escaped his lips. “Divorce?” He strode toward me, his tall frame looming over me, casting me completely in his shadow. “Lina, you have the audacity to mention divorce to me?” “Your family, your home, everything you have—I gave it to you. Without me, you are nothing.” He was right. To marry him, I had given up my career, abandoned my studies, and cut off nearly every friend he didn’t approve of. I had become an island, existing only in his orbit. “I’ll leave with nothing,” I said, the words tasting like ash in my mouth. I had nothing to begin with. He grabbed my chin, forcing me to look up at him. His eyes were filled with contempt and ridicule, as if he were looking at an ant trying to challenge a giant. “Do you think divorce is a game you can start and stop whenever you please?” “Lina, I make the rules here.” “You want to leave? Fine. First, learn how to be an obedient dog.” I laughed, a cold, sharp sound, and met his gaze without flinching. “That girl from before… she’s the replacement you found for Celeste, isn’t she? What value do I have left? Wouldn’t a divorce be more convenient for you both?” He released me with such force that I stumbled backward. “Lina, you don’t get to walk away so easily. You have a debt to Celeste that you’ll spend the rest of your life repaying!” “Until you learn to be an obedient dog, you will stay right here.” He pulled out his phone and made a call. “Get Mr. Davies on the line. I need a new postnuptial agreement drafted.” “Yes. Regarding loyalty and obedience.” He hung up and walked out without another glance in my direction. 4 Adrian didn’t come home that night. I sat alone in the vast, empty living room until the sun came up. The next day, Mr. Davies arrived. He had been a witness at our wedding, but now his face was a mask of cold professionalism. He handed me a document. “Mrs. Thorne, this is the new agreement Mr. Thorne asked me to prepare.” I took it and skimmed through the pages. The clauses were a masterclass in humiliation. I was forbidden from initiating a divorce, from disobeying any of Adrian’s wishes, from having any unnecessary contact with any man. Even if my own parents wanted to see me, they would first have to submit a written request to Adrian for approval. And the final clause: if I violated any of the terms, all assets in my name—including the house my parents currently lived in—would be unconditionally repossessed. The house had been a “gift” from Adrian before our wedding, but the deed was in my name. He had been shackling me all along, just waiting for me to take a wrong step. “Mrs. Thorne, if you have no objections, please sign here.” Mr. Davies offered me a pen. My hands were still wrapped in bandages. I couldn’t even hold it. The sight was both pathetic and absurd. I looked at the lawyer. “And if I don’t sign?” Mr. Davies adjusted his glasses. “You should be more aware of Mr. Thorne’s methods than I am. He won’t give you the opportunity to say no.” I laughed. Of course. How could I forget? He was Adrian Thorne, the golden child of fortune. He always got what he wanted. Including a person’s soul. Just then, my phone rang. It was an unfamiliar number. With my one slightly mobile finger, I managed to swipe to answer. “Is this Lina?” The voice on the other end was gentle and strangely familiar. “This is Samuel Reed.” 5 Samuel Reed. He was a senior from my university, the only person who had ever truly understood my music. We lost touch after he went abroad for his medical fellowship. “Samuel?” My voice trembled. “It’s me. I’m back in the country. Just got your number.” Samuel paused. “You don’t… sound so good. Are you okay?” I clutched the phone, my eyes darting from Mr. Davies’s smug face to the humiliating contract on the table. Tears welled up, hot and sudden. But I couldn’t cry. Not now. I sniffled, forcing my voice to sound as normal as possible. “I’m fine, Samuel. Just a bit of a cold.” “Where are you? Are you free to meet? I’m at a medical conference right near your neighborhood.” My heart skipped a beat. “I…” Adrian’s warning echoed in my ears. No unnecessary contact with any man. Mr. Davies was watching me like a hawk. I glanced out the window and saw a banner across the street: “International Medical Exchange Center.” A wild, desperate idea took root in my mind. “Samuel, I can’t get out right now. But… could you do me a favor?” “Of course. Anything.” “Call the police for me,” I said, my voice low and urgent. “The address is 22 Blackwood Lane. Someone is being held here against their will.”

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The System dropped me onto my husband’s bed. While he was in it. With his mistress. I watched, in stunning clarity, as their frantic, bare-skinned movements ground to a halt. Three of us, just staring at each other, wide-eyed in the dim light of the hotel room. With a calmness I didn’t feel, I answered the buzzing phone in my hand. “Yeah, my husband’s cheating.” “Proof? I’m sitting on their bed, watching them.” Without another word, I flipped the camera and recorded. The video captured their shocked, half-naked forms, a portrait of betrayal. “Ava, you send that out, and you can forget about ever being Mrs. Cole again!” Ethan roared. I calmly forwarded the video to the Cole family group chat, then pulled the divorce papers I’d prepared from my purse. “Sign it.” “Without me, you won’t even be able to afford your next meal!” he sneered, scrawling his name with a defiant, mocking flourish. He and his little tramp were still radiating smug confidence until they saw me step into a waiting Rolls-Royce. The looks on their faces were priceless. 1. The family group chat notifications exploded, hitting 99+ in seconds. Most were condemnations aimed squarely at me. “Every man strays, Ava. It’s natural. It’s your own fault for not being able to keep his interest.” That was his aunt. “A little fling? Honey, listen to someone who’s been around. As a woman, you need to be more forgiving.” That, from his cousin. “Is that all? I thought it was something serious. You’re making a mountain out of a molehill.” The Cole family vultures had always known how to pick at me. No matter what Ethan did, the fault would always be spun back to me. I let out a bitter laugh, staring at the screen. “Runs in the family, I guess. A whole clan of hypocrites.” For years, I’d swallowed their condescension because of my humble beginnings. I endured it all. But when the System unlocked a few days ago, showing me the full, sordid extent of Ethan’s betrayal, my heart finally froze over. The System gave me the courage to finally shatter the illusion. Watching Ethan sign those papers, a profound sense of peace washed over the storm that had raged inside me for so long. A genuine smile touched my lips, feeling like the first ray of sunshine after a long winter. “If I were you, Ava,” Lily, the mistress, said, her voice dripping with false pity, “I’d be on my knees, begging him for a second chance.” I tucked the signed agreement neatly into my purse. “Oh.” I paused. “I didn’t realize you were into that sort of thing. If you want to kneel for someone, find a mirror.” “You—!” Veins bulged on his clenched fist. “You’ve played Mrs. Cole for a few years and you really think your little Cinderella story was permanent?” he spat. “Without me, you’re nothing.” Seeing that I was officially on my way out, Lily’s face lit up with triumph. With Ethan’s fury as her stage, she began her performance. “Oh, Ethan, darling, I’m so sorry,” she simpered, sliding off the bed and onto her knees before me. “This is all my fault. I’m the one who drove a wedge between you and Ava.” She looked up at me, her eyes welling up with perfectly timed tears. “I shouldn’t have fallen for him. But Ava… do you know what it’s like to be sick with longing? It’s a poison, worse than anything you could drink. I tried to stay away, I really did. But when I saw him again a few days ago, I knew… I could never fight it.” Her voice cracked, a masterpiece of contrived heartbreak. “I love him more than life itself. I couldn’t torture myself any longer…” Ethan looked genuinely stunned, as if he was trying to remember when their cheap affair had developed this level of profound, earth-shattering passion. As Lily’s monologue reached its crescendo, his confusion melted away, replaced by a glistening sympathy that caught the fading afternoon light. “It was all me,” she sobbed, “I pursued him relentlessly. I’m the one who wronged you, Ava. Hit me, scream at me, do whatever you need to do. I won’t fight back. Just… please, I beg you, retract that video. Don’t let my mistake ruin his reputation.” It had been well over two minutes. The video couldn’t be retracted. This was all for show—a play to cement her image as a selfless, devoted victim. And, of course, to announce her arrival to the Cole family and pave her way to becoming the next Mrs. Cole. I stared down at her impossibly sincere face, getting my first real lesson in high-level manipulation. I crouched down, meeting her tear-filled gaze. “I remember you’ve only met Ethan twice. I’m curious. Where, exactly, did this all-consuming, unforgettable love come from in two meetings?” My eyes flicked to the man on the bed, who now seemed to be deeply moved. “Or,” I continued, my voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, “was this whole performance just bait to hook a much bigger fish?” Ethan’s expression froze. The bedsheets crumpled in his tightening grip. His cool, detached eyes turned on Lily, now filled with a flicker of suspicion. “Lily,” he asked, his voice suddenly uncertain. “Do you really love me that much? Or are you after something else?” She barely flinched before seamlessly weaving this into her narrative. “Ethan, do you believe in love at first sight? I never did,” she said, her voice soft and wounded. “Not until I met you.” She rose gracefully, picking up her coat and draping it over her shoulders with an air of tragic dignity. “Just knowing I could feel this way is enough for me. I won’t bother you again.” And with that, she walked toward the door without a shred of hesitation. The suspicion in his eyes melted into a puddle of misplaced tenderness. He snatched a shirt and scrambled after her. “Lily!” I followed them out. Just outside the motel entrance, Ethan was gently wiping the tears from her cheeks. He used to be so cold to everyone else in the world, reserving that specific, tender gaze only for me. I couldn’t pinpoint when it happened, when he started looking at me like a stranger, when all his warmth was redirected to her. Seeing me emerge, he instinctively pulled Lily behind him, shielding her just as fiercely as he had once shielded me from his family’s judgment. “I know whether Lily’s love is real or not,” he snapped. “When did you become such a manipulative bitch, Ava? Trying to drive a wedge between us? I almost fell for it.” I just shook my head, a real smile playing on my lips. “You’re a fool.” “You know how much I hate women who play games! And to think I loved you so much. I never knew you were this kind of person.” His own mother had divorced his father over a manipulative mistress—a woman who went on to become the new Mrs. Cole and gave him a half-brother to compete for the family fortune. His stepmother, the current matriarch, was always praising him, always taking his side. But Ethan knew it was all an act, a slow and patient campaign to ruin him with kindness, inflating his ego only to watch him pop. I knew better than anyone how much he despised that kind of deception. The irony was suffocating. After being expertly manipulated by his stepmother for years, he couldn’t even recognize it when it was staring him in the face. Or maybe he was just like his father. Maybe he saw the trap clearly and walked into it anyway, willingly, for the sake of a little warmth. “For the sake of what we once had,” he said, puffing out his chest, “I’ll give you one last chance. Tear up those papers, apologize for this mess, and I’ll let you remain Mrs. Cole.” I walked past them, giving them both one last, cold glance. “One’s a performer, the other’s an idiot. You can keep the title. If Miss Mayfair here wants it so badly, she can have it.” “You’ll regret this, Ava! You’ll be begging on the streets!” 2. A low purr grew into a powerful hum, and a black Rolls-Royce Ghost glided to a stop in front of the seedy motel. The man in the driver’s seat nodded at me. “Get in.” I slid into the plush leather seat without a backward glance. In the rearview mirror, I saw Ethan’s face, a mask of pure shock. Lily stood beside him, her jaw so tight I thought her teeth might crack, her eyes burning holes into the back of my head. The car was a hundred yards down the road before I heard the faint, furious echo of Ethan’s voice carried on the wind. “Ava! You dare cheat on me with another man? You shameless whore!” … The tree shadows flickered past, never lingering, blurring into a stream of green and grey. My mind drifted back. I was adopted. My foster mother raised me, poured everything she had into my education, into making me someone. Then fate played its cruelest joke. The summer the cicadas sang their loudest, she was diagnosed with cancer. Our savings were a drop in the bucket against the cost of her treatment. So I fought my way into Ethan Cole’s company. I worked myself to the bone, shattering sales records in my first month and earning the company a three-million-dollar windfall. That single victory made my name and, more importantly, caught Ethan’s attention. But my mother didn’t survive the winter. Suddenly, my ambition had no purpose. I was adrift in grief and despair. It was then that Ethan’s constant presence broke through my walls. He married me for my talent, for the asset I was. Then, after the wedding, he asked me to be a housewife, to cut all ties with the business world. At the time, shattered by my mother’s death and exhausted from the fight, I thought he was trying to protect me, to give me a chance to rest. I agreed. Thinking back on it now, I was so naive it was laughable. A short, sharp laugh escaped my lips, startling the man beside me. He didn’t speak, just quietly opened the window and slowed the car. The cool evening air rushed in, sweeping across my face, carrying away the fresh tears that had welled in my eyes and washing away the last dregs of pain and bitterness in my heart.

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The day I found out Liam was cheating again, I let out a long, slow sigh of relief. This was the latest in a long, unbroken line of betrayals, and always with the same woman. Over the phone, his breaths were shallow and quick as he claimed to be in a meeting. I stretched languidly, gazing out the window at the endless night, and hung up. I thought of the vow we’d made so long ago: If I ever betray you, may I die a horrible death. A shame no one ever actually dies from it. But the betrayal is always real. I drafted the divorce papers. This broken, rotten marriage was over. 1. Liam came home at three in the morning. He had a satisfied, languid smile on his face as he came to wrap his arms around me on the sofa. A faint trace of perfume, a scent that wasn’t mine, drifted into my nose. The old me would have flown into a rage. Where were you? Who were you with? Why does your shirt smell like that? Then would come the screaming, the crying, the sound of things breaking. Liam would soothe me with some nonsensical excuse, and I, pathetically, would believe him. But that was the old me. The me who was obsessively, blindly in love with him. I used to spend hours staring at a photo of us at seventeen. The boy in that picture, the one who had loved me with such sincerity, was frozen in time. Before he left to study abroad in London, he’d grabbed my hands, his eyes intense. “Don’t you dare betray me,” he’d said. “Whoever betrays the other will die a horrible death.” Back then, fueled by love, even a vow that dark sounded sweet. Then came the call across time zones. A girl’s voice answered his phone, telling me he was in the shower. The call didn’t end when the water shut off. I heard their panting breaths, their quiet murmurs. I knew. I sent him a novel-length breakup text. He flew back immediately to win me over, the ghost of that same perfume still clinging to him. “Kaley, she’s just a classmate. Nothing happened. We were just out for a run.” And just like that, I believed him. It seems so absurd now. Liam’s deep voice rumbled above my head, pulling me from the memory. “Why are you still up?” Breathing in that familiar, foreign scent, I gently pushed him away. As he stared, confused, I placed the freshly printed divorce agreement on the coffee table. “Let’s get a divorce.” Liam scoffed and tried to pull me into a hug again. I shoved him off. I just sat there, watching him with an unnerving calm as his composure began to crumble. He shot to his feet, pacing back and forth with his hands on his hips. “I told you, I was in a meeting. I was late, okay? But I came home, didn’t I? I didn’t stay out all night!” 2. The midnight curfew was a rule established after one of his many betrayals. He’d promised to abide by it, and for a few weeks, he actually had, turning down after-work drinks and dinners. But he couldn’t turn down an invitation from her. I had only met Zoe once. When Liam returned for good from London, he didn’t come to see me first. She showed up at my door, asking for a pair of his underwear to bring to him. It was a blatant provocation. I shoved her out and slammed the door. But her woody, cloying perfume lingered in the apartment we had decorated together over video calls. From then on, whenever I smelled that scent on him, I knew he’d been with her. And every single time, Liam had a ready-made excuse. He’d met with her to discuss a joint business venture. He’d run into her by chance outside the office and they’d just grabbed a quick lunch. It was a class reunion; everyone was there. And each time, he would look me in the eye, his gaze achingly sincere, and swear, “Nothing happened. If I betrayed you, Kaley, may I die a horrible death.” And I would believe him. I looked up at the man who had been the centerpiece of my entire youth. All the obsession, the unwillingness to let go… it had all vanished. I couldn’t find a trace of it. Liam was still rambling, and I repeated, my voice flat. “Let’s get a divorce.” He froze, standing ramrod straight in front of me. It was finally dawning on him that this wasn’t a tantrum. It wasn’t like the other times. I wasn’t throwing things. I wasn’t screaming. I wasn’t even pointing out the evidence and demanding an explanation. I was just calmly ending it. He crouched in front of me, raising his hand to make that same, tired vow. “If I did anything to betray you, may I die a horrible death.” “Then you can go die.” His eyes widened, the color draining from his face. This time, I didn’t rush to cover his mouth, whispering, “I believe you.” This time, I accepted his offer. 3. Liam looked like a robot that had just been powered down, his hand falling limply to his side. Outside, a roll of thunder broke the silence, and the sky opened up. His phone rang, a shrill intrusion. I glanced at the screen. The contact name read, “Zoe from Accounting.” I couldn’t help but laugh. A plausible, professional-sounding alias. But I already knew. After all, what kind of colleague texts you at midnight saying, I miss you so much. There’s a thunderstorm and I’m scared. Can you come be with me? Liam declined the call. A second later, it rang again. I watched him struggle. “Go on, answer it. She’s afraid of thunder.” A tremor went through him. He grabbed my hand, his face a mask of panic. “Kaley, let me explain. She and I are just…” “It doesn’t matter,” I said, cutting him off. “We’re getting divorced. You can tell her the good news. You won’t have to sneak around anymore. You won’t have to rack your brain for those ridiculous, logic-defying excuses.” I still didn’t understand it. How could he claim to love me and then run to her bed without a second thought? And he was so good at protecting her. After that one time she came to my door, I never saw her again, no matter how hard I tried. Once, I’d followed his phone’s GPS, running through the neighborhood in my pajamas and slippers. I was going to catch him in the act, leave him with no excuses left. I beat on the door of the apartment, but there was no answer, just a heavy, mocking silence from the other side. They were in there, together. That perfume, its phantom scent, was a constant reminder that she had never really left. It was only later I realized he had installed a GPS tracker on my phone, too. He was always one step ahead. From his studies in London to his return home, through our entire marriage, Zoe had been a ghost haunting our lives. Time and time again, I would look at the face of the seventeen-year-old boy in the photo and forgive the twenty-seven-year-old man in my bed. Finally, at twenty-eight, I threw the photo in the trash. 4. I was so tired. I didn’t have the energy to believe another one of his clumsy lies. But then he did something new. He dropped to his knees and started to cry. “I was alone in London,” he sobbed. “I didn’t know anyone. I lost my wallet, all my IDs, everything. I was just wandering the streets, completely lost, and she found me. She helped me get everything replaced. She was with me through that whole dark time.” His eyes, glistening with tears, looked up at me. During those years he was away, I’d turned down every advance, every offer of a date. I wrote him letters every week, sent him boxes of homemade cookies because I was afraid he’d be lonely. I stayed up through the night, waiting for a time we could talk, telling him over and over again, I love you. I’m waiting for you. It was clear now that none of that mattered as much as Zoe’s physical presence. He hugged my legs, his face wet with tears. “Kaley, this is the last time. I’ll never see her again, I promise!” “I swear, if I ever see her again, I’ll—” “She’ll die a horrible death,” I finished for him. His mouth hung open, his face a picture of conflict. I wanted to see just how deep his feelings for her ran. I leaned back against the sofa, looking down at him. “Say it. If you two ever meet again, she’ll die a horrible death.” He closed his mouth. He lowered the hand he’d raised to swear the oath. Silence filled the room again. I watched the color drain from his face and let out a bitter laugh. His phone rang again. This time, he answered, his voice a furious roar. “Don’t ever call me again! We’re over!” He slammed the phone down and looked at me, his eyes full of desperate hope. I watched his chest heave from the force of his shouting and just felt… empty. “It’s too late, Liam.” 5. “From the moment you were in London, the two of you never stopped. I asked you, begged you, to cut ties with her, but you never did.” “You just found more secretive ways to see her. You faked a business proposal to show me, claiming you had to work with her. You helped her set up her company in the building next to yours so you could have ‘chance encounters’ and lunch every day. You organized a ‘class reunion’ where, surprise, the two of you were the only ones who showed up.” As I laid it all out, he just shook his head, muttering that it wasn’t like that. Outside, the darkness began to soften into a bruised, pre-dawn blue. A knock on the door. A woman stood there, drenched from the rain. Liam rushed to wrap her in a towel, his eyes filled with concern. Even through the rain, I could smell that familiar, woody scent. Zoe’s eyes were red as she stared at Liam. “What do you mean, ‘we’re over’?” “Didn’t you tell me you had no feelings for her? That the only reason you didn’t divorce her was because she’d take half your money?” “Why? Why are you ending things with me now?” After that outburst, Liam looked at me, his face ashen. So that was it. He was worried I’d take his money. Zoe’s eyes fell on the divorce papers on the table. She snatched them up. On the last page, my signature sat, quiet and final. Liam tried to grab the papers back, but she dodged him. “Why haven’t you signed it?” she shrieked. “She’s not asking for a single penny!” Her eyes were bloodshot, her voice cracking with desperation. I think Liam finally snapped. He ripped the agreement to shreds, shoved her out the door, and slammed it shut. From outside, we could hear her screaming curses and questions. I remained on the sofa. Liam fell to his knees again, sobbing apologies. 6. After a while, the noise outside stopped, replaced by a woman’s shocked cry. “Oh my goodness! This poor girl’s fainted!” Liam flinched, then scrambled to his feet and threw the door open. He cradled Zoe in his arms, shaking her, his voice choked as he called her name. The girl in his arms was pale and unresponsive. He glanced at me once, then scooped her up. “Kaley, I’m taking her to the hospital. I’ll be right back. Wait for me. I’ll come back and explain everything.” I watched him leave without a backward glance and wondered if he would ever really come back. I just sat there on the sofa. Waiting. At noon, I got a friend request from Zoe. She sent me a picture, a trophy of her victory. In it, Liam was asleep, his head resting on her hospital bed. Next to him was an unfolded pregnancy report. I zoomed in on the date. Two months. Two months ago, Liam had told me he was going on a week-long business trip. He’d checked in with me every thirty minutes. But even that constant surveillance hadn’t stopped him from sneaking off to be with her. He’s going to be a father. He’s mine, Kaley. Zoe’s texts popped up. I didn’t reply. I exited the chat, opened my laptop, and started revising the divorce agreement. If he was going to have a baby with her, he was damn well going to pay for it. Then I called the movers. By the time Liam came back, the living room was full of boxes. He stepped over them and found me in the master bedroom, directing the movers. “Kaley, what are you doing?” I turned to him, my voice cold. “Packing.” “Kaley, Zoe… she has some health issues. I need to stay at the hospital with her for a few days. Can you just wait for me? Please?” he begged. We looked at each other, and a sudden, morbid curiosity took hold of me. I wanted to know how he would handle the baby. A slow smile spread across my face. “Okay.” He looked immensely grateful, pulling me into a tight hug before rushing to pack a bag and hurry back to the hospital.

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