Author: Momo Chan

Mable Short, the woman my fiancé cherished, and I both fell from the building at the exact same moment. My fiancé, being a doctor, rushed to save Mable first, leaving me, drenched in my own blood, to await the ambulance’s arrival. In my dying moments, I implored him not to abandon me. Frank Cullen, my fiancé, however, brusquely kicked my hand away. “Gianna! Can’t you be a bit more compassionate? Don’t you see Mable is unconscious? I’ll deal with you later for pushing her down the stairs!” But Frank never got the chance. As he turned to carry Mable away, I perished alongside the baby in my womb. My death was agonizing. I suffered from numerous fractures, with several ribs piercing my uterus, leading to a rupture and severe hemorrhaging. As I died, my blood saturated the bed. The scene was so gruesome that even the medical staff reacted in horror. Perhaps my soul lingered because my death was so unwilling. I gazed at my body in disbelief until a familiar voice caught my attention, and I followed it with curiosity. Indeed, it was Frank. In the emergency room, he hastily donned surgical garb, reassuring his lover. “Mable, hold on. I’ll operate on you now!” He then turned his attention to her surgery. His expression was more solemn than I had ever witnessed before. Only after the operation did he exhale in relief. Seeing Mable’s vital signs stabilize, Frank summoned his assistant, Max Harrison, to transfer her to a general ward for observation. Max paused, with a flicker of indecision crossing his face, which sparked Frank’s curiosity. “What is it?” Max answered, “Dr. Cullen, do you know the woman who was brought in right after Ms. Short? Just now…” Max was about to inform Frank of my demise. However, Frank swiftly cut him off and sternly explained, “I don’t know that woman, nor do I wish to know her condition.” Max nodded slightly. Hearing this, I felt a chill running through me. Frank despised me so vehemently, so how could he acknowledge me as his fiancée to outsiders? Yet, he remained unaware that I lay dead, just a wall away in another ward. I recalled how, before the accident, I had clung to his trouser leg with all my might. “Save me. I’m truly dying. “Don’t leave me. Please save me…” No one could remain indifferent to the sight of the vast pool of blood beneath me. Yet, my beloved fiancé gazed down at me with a look of disgust. “Gianna, can’t you show a shred of kindness? Can’t you see Mable is unconscious? “Isn’t it enough that you pushed her down the stairs? Now, you’re trying to stop me from saving her? Do you want her life that badly? “Gianna, I never expected you to be so malicious!” I released my grip on Frank, my bloodstained hands fumbling in my pocket for the pregnancy test report. I yearned to tell him about the baby and plead for our child’s sake that he save me. Yet, he didn’t grant me a single glance. He spoke harshly, “I’ll deal with you when I get back!” Ignoring my blood-soaked form, he lifted the unconscious Mable and turned away. By the time I retrieved the pregnancy test report, they had vanished from my sight. Tears splashed onto the report as I stared at the evidence of the small life that had begun to form inside me. I murmured, “I’m sorry, baby. Your dad doesn’t care for me, so he won’t save me, let alone you.” Upon confirming my death, the doctor reached out to my sole relative, Henry Wells, my father. When he arrived, all he found was a lifeless body. He dropped to his knees, tears streaming down his face, grappling with the incomprehensible reality that I was gone in an instant. Assisted to his feet by a nurse, he suppressed his grief and tried to contact Frank. But his calls, more than ten, were all met with disconnection.

Eventually, his calls ceased to go through. Unable to endure the disturbance, Frank blacklisted Henry. After that, Frank made his way to the hospital ward and gently took the hand of Mable, who had just awakened from her coma. “I’m so glad you’re awake. You have no idea how worried I was…” Mable’s complexion was ghostly white, betraying her frail health. Only I knew the truth that she had fallen down the stairs on purpose. Tears glistened in her eyes. “Frank, when I fell, I thought I was going to die. “Thankfully, you brought me here in time for surgery. Without you, I don’t know what would have happened.” As she spoke, she sniffled, fixing her gaze lovingly on Frank. “Frank, from now on, my life is yours.” Frank’s eyes softened at her words. He silently withdrew a pure gold bracelet from his pocket, fastening it around her wrist. “I got you a gift. I hope it brightens your spirits. “Staying positive will help you recover faster.” The bracelet was exquisitely crafted, the very one I had coveted the most. I had pleaded with him to gift it to me on my birthday, but he had refused. Yet, now, he had bought it and placed it on Mable’s wrist. Mable caressed the bracelet and wore a radiant smile. “Frank, you’re so good to me.” Her expression then clouded over. “But what about Gianna? Won’t she mind you being so sweet to me?” At the mention of my name, Frank’s face blanched. “Don’t bring up that woman! If she hadn’t pushed you down the stairs, you wouldn’t be suffering like this!” He clasped Mable’s hand firmly and sternly vowed, “Don’t you worry. I’ll make things right for you when I’m back. I promise!” He recalled that I had been taken to the same hospital by ambulance. He was burning with the desire to avenge Mable, so he was headed straight for me. Just as he stepped out of her ward, a stretcher carrying a body rolled past him. I knew that the body on the stretcher was mine, even though it was shrouded in a stark white sheet. My hand, adorned with the engagement ring, hung loosely. This was the ring Frank had bought me when he proposed eight years ago, and I had never once removed it. I couldn’t believe Frank wouldn’t recognize that ring. My soul hovered around Frank, repeatedly urging, “Frank, the body on the stretcher is me!” I yearned for Frank to acknowledge me. I wanted to see if, upon realizing it was his misjudgment that had led to the demise of me and our child, he would be so devastated he’d break down, or if he’d remain indifferent, deeming it insignificant. “Make way.” The staff urged Frank aside as they maneuvered the stretcher through. Frank frowned, his gaze flicking to my dangling hand. Then, he stepped back impatiently, allowing the stretcher to pass without incident. In the end, he failed to recognize me as his fiancée. Our eight years together now felt like a cruel joke. After the stretcher conveyed my body to the morgue, Frank approached the ward where I had been. “Where is Gianna Wells, who was brought here?” Frank inquired of the nurse upon entering. The nurse, recognizing Frank, responded swiftly, “Dr. Cullen, are you acquainted with Gianna Wells? Unfortunately, she succumbed to her grave injuries. There was nothing we could do. “Her father fainted from grief. We need to contact those close to her to handle the formalities. “It would be wonderful if you were a friend of her. Could you accompany me now…” Frank cut the nurse off, his anger flaring. “Isn’t Gianna taking things too far? She actually got people to act with her? “She’s really milking this victim role, huh? Just like Mable, she fell from a building, but Mable’s okay, right?” I had anticipated that Frank wouldn’t believe the nurse. Mable was still in one piece because Frank, the chief physician, had stepped in with his scalpel just in the nick of time. As for me, my injuries were too severe; I could only await my doom. Seeing Frank’s terrifyingly grim expression, the nurse didn’t dare say more and could only shake her head as she left. Unable to find me, Frank had no choice but to return to Mable. Mable, having learned of my possible demise, coaxed Frank, “Why don’t you go check on Gianna? What if something really happened?” Despite being the one who pushed me down the stairs, Mable twisted the truth. “I don’t think Gianna meant to push me. It must have been an accident. “If she fell, she would definitely get hurt. “You’re her fiancé, after all. You should go take a look, right?” Frank’s eyes brimmed with a tender warmth. “Mable, you’re so kind.” But his gentle expression suddenly hardened. “I know Gianna. She’s always been jealous of you, misunderstanding our relationship. “I wanted to take you to the hospital, but she tried to stop me! She’s so vicious that she must have pushed you on purpose.” Mable feigned concern. “It’s okay. I don’t blame her. I’m just worried she might be hurt…” “Impossible!” Frank declared firmly. “She loves using this trick to deceive me. She even claimed she had pneumonia when she wasn’t sick. I almost had to rush back from abroad! “She just likes to play the victim. The person I trust least is Gianna!” I tried to speak, but no sound emerged. My health had indeed not been great, and Frank was aware of this. But to spare him any added weight, especially when his career was at such a pivotal juncture, I would slip away to the hospital alone, in silence, never breathing a word of it. Sometimes, before fully recovering, I appeared a bit frail. Frank chuckled at me. “What’s this? Trying to trick me into staying by playing the pity card again?” I matched his playful tone. “Yeah, that’s right.” But even as I put on a brave face, Mable would find reasons to call Frank, feigning some ailment or another, insisting he should come to check on her. Frank was unwittingly under the thumb of the seemingly frail Mable. When I first discovered these calls, I was livid. I confronted Mable, intending to demand her true intentions face-to-face. However, before I could get a few words out, Mable burst into tears. I left, utterly bewildered by the situation. Not long after, Frank angrily confronted me. “Why did you try to irk Mable? She’s not well. As her neighbor and someone who’s practically watched her grow up, what’s wrong with me accompanying her to the hospital?” He showed me a photo on his phone. “Are you a shrew? Can’t you just talk to her nicely? Why resort to violence?” I stared at the photo in shock. There was a distinct slap mark on Mable’s face. But I hadn’t laid a finger on her! I had no defense.

Frank refused to believe me. He pointed at me and harshly warned me. “Our issues are between us. Don’t you dare bother innocent people!” I wished I could explain that I had never made things difficult for Mable. Instead, it was the seemingly innocent Mable who had mercilessly reached out and caused my downfall. I watched as they exchanged affectionate glances and embraced. Mable remained in the hospital for days under Frank’s attentive care. On the day of her discharge, Frank handled everything. After he brought Mable home, she clung to him, reluctant to let go. “Frank, I don’t want to worry my parents. “But I’m so clumsy that I can barely look after myself. Could you stay? Keep me company?” Frank reveled in her dependence. He embraced her and gently comforted her. “It’s alright. I’ll take some more time off and stay to take care of you properly.” The pain in my heart was indescribable. I never anticipated that the man I once hesitated to bother would offer himself so freely to another woman. Their tender embrace was shattered by the insistent ringing of the phone. Seeing an unfamiliar local number, Frank answered, puzzled. From the other end, Henry’s voice boomed. “You heartless bastard! How dare you do this to my daughter? You made her die with regrets!” Frank’s face shifted instantly. “Aren’t you bored? Are you in cahoots with Gianna, trying to deceive me again? “Is pretending to be sick not enough now? Has she upgraded to faking death? “Tell Gianna I won’t believe her! Even if something did happen to her, she had it coming!” Henry was incensed by Frank’s words. “You killed my daughter! You and that woman deserve to die!” Perhaps blinded by fury, Henry’s words tumbled out, somewhat jumbled and incoherent. After listening for a moment, Frank frowned and hung up. Mable approached, with curiosity in her eyes. “Who was that?” Frank shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s Gianna’s father, playing along with her act. “How could there be such a father? Willing to curse his own daughter, saying she’s dead.” Frank wore a bemused expression. “The Wells family will stop at nothing to marry me off.” Mable’s gaze dimmed. “So, are you still planning to marry Gianna?” Frank knitted his brows deeply, betraying his conflicting emotions. “We’re officially engaged, and my parents adore her. Breaking it off could get messy.” As he spoke, Frank suddenly sighed. “Actually, apart from the whole picking on you thing and the endless squabbles and cold wars over you, she’s not half bad in other respects.” Frank was right. I was with him for eight long years, engaged for six months. Beyond the constant anger and upset directed at Mable and Frank, I could be described as unconditionally tolerant of Frank. I understood his work kept him busy, so even when neglected, I’d suppress my frustration and remain his steadfast support. When his parents fell ill, I was the one who spared no expense or effort in caring for them. Yet, I feared Frank’s current indecision wasn’t born out of love for me. I worried he simply saw me as a suitable match for marriage. As Frank spoke of this, Mable’s expression grew increasingly sour. Just as she was about to press Frank for answers, he received a call from his father, John Cullen. “Frank, you’re absolutely ridiculous! How could I have fathered a son like you!” John berated Frank. “Gianna has suffered a tremendous tragedy, and you’re just going to ignore it?” Frank was momentarily stunned before offering a nonchalant smile. “Dad, don’t let Gianna pull the wool over my eyes with you,” he implored. John was so furious he was rendered speechless. “Who would risk someone’s life just to cause a scene? “Don’t you realize Gianna is dead? Your wife-to-be, Gianna, is gone!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MyFiction” app 🔍 search for “397270”, and watch the full series ✨! #MyFiction #Ancient

My name was Oliver Pettyfer. My wife, Fiona Jameson, was a surgeon. Throughout her career, she had saved countless lives. But the one person she couldn’t save was me. Nathan Aniston, her true love, and I were in a car accident together. She rushed to his side first. It wasn’t until three months after my death that she realized the person frequently chatting with her on WhatsApp wasn’t me, and she panicked. After my death, bound by unfinished destiny, I lingered on as a spirit, quietly staying by Fiona’s side. The hospital corridors echoed with the sounds of screams and cries. Just an hour ago, a severe multi-vehicle collision had occurred on the city’s bridge; the scene was unbearable. Every doctor in the city, including Fiona, was called in to help. I lay in a pool of blood, struggling to suppress the metallic taste rising in my throat. When I saw Fiona, I felt a surge of relief. But the next moment, I felt as if I had plunged into an icy abyss. Fiona saw me lying there, yet she stepped over me and rushed to Nathan’s side. She lifted him, her face filled with concern and urgency I had never seen before. I was covered in blood, and I tried to tell her I was hurt, but as I opened my mouth, a torrent of blood gushed out. By the time I could lift my head again, Fiona had already placed Nathan in the ambulance. I didn’t want to die alone, so I mustered all my strength and called out her name, “Fiona…” Fiona turned back and looked at me coldly. “You just vomited some blood. Nathan has multiple fractures; he needs me more than you do. I know what you’re going to say, but you wait here. Someone else will come to help you.” With that, she slammed the ambulance door shut and disappeared from my sight with Nathan. Fiona didn’t know that a piece of rebar was embedded in my back, piercing through my body. I was about to die. If she had just looked closely, she would have seen it, but her attention was entirely on Nathan. But none of that mattered anymore. After all, what was left to fight for when one was about to die? The hospital was overflowing with patients, and there weren’t enough beds to go around. After finishing Nathan’s surgery, Fiona had no choice but to place him on a temporary bed in the hallway.

  Wrapped in bandages and looking pale and drained, Nathan tugged at Fiona’s heartstrings. In a hoarse voice, Nathan said, “I’m fine now. You should go check on Oliver; he sounded pretty bad too…” Fiona frowned sharply at the mention of my name. “What does it matter about that jealous, petty guy? Your health is what’s important right now.” Nathan fell silent for a moment. Then, as if reflecting on something significant, he continued, “This is all my fault. If I hadn’t come back, you two wouldn’t be in such a mess that it’s come to the brink of a divorce.” That was true. Just before the accident, Fiona and I were in heated discussions about our looming separation. Our marriage had been an arrangement between families, while Nathan was her university classmate. I knew all along that Fiona didn’t like me, but under the pressure from our families, we went through with it anyway. I tried everything to be the husband she deserved, hoping that one day I could take Nathan’s place in her heart. Then Nathan returned from abroad, shattering my hopes. Upon his return, he called Fiona first. It changed everything. Despite the fact that I was the one who married her, Fiona spent most of her time with Nathan. We had an explosive argument just before my accident. After I lost my cool, she stormed off. Moments later, I got a call from Nathan asking to meet. I never imagined I would crash my car on the way to see him—and that it would cost me my life. Shaking off those thoughts, I watched as Fiona tucked the blanket around Nathan, speaking softly, “It’s not your fault. Oliver and I were never on the same page. He’s too suspicious and overly sensitive; he doesn’t even take the time to understand me. Our divorce was mutual, so don’t blame yourself.” I wore a wry smile, thinking, “So, this is how she views me.” Just then, a frazzled nurse rushed over, holding my ID. “Dr. Jameson, your husband, Oliver, he…” Fiona’s expression instantly turned cold. “So he wants me to go see him? Please. He just coughed up a little blood. A grown man can handle that; he’s probably just faking to get some sympathy. Tell him I’m going through with the divorce and that he needs to stop bothering me.” Without allowing the nurse to respond, Fiona spun on her heel and walked away briskly, a wave of indignation trailing behind her. I remembered a time when I had a fever so high I barely knew what was happening. I’d pleaded with her to stay by my side. When I finally came to, she had slapped me hard and said, “Today was Nathan’s birthday! You made me break my promise to spend it with him just because you were sick. I know you did this on purpose, Oliver!” From that moment on, her disdain for me only deepened. Now, once again, she believed I was merely playing the sympathy card and would no longer trust me.

  My spirit followed Fiona as she left the hospital corridor. Just outside, she paused, pulling out her phone. After hesitating for a while, typing, and deleting, Fiona finally settled on one simple word: [Divorce.] Then she hit send. Fiona didn’t know I was gone and wouldn’t be able to respond to her message. But to my surprise, just as her message was sent, I found “myself” replying on the other end: [So you want a divorce because of Nathan, huh? Fine by me. I’ll sign whatever you want; you and this little charmer deserve each other!] At the sight of that message, Fiona’s anger boiled over, and she smashed her phone into pieces. “You’d better be serious about wanting a divorce! Don’t come crying to me later about regretting it!” As my spirit hovered nearby, I couldn’t help but feel bewildered. “Wait, I’m dead! How can I still respond to Fiona’s messages?” It felt like the person was deliberately imitating my tone down to the same punctuation. Before I could process it, Fiona picked up the shattered pieces of her phone from the floor and turned to leave. A week later, Nathan was discharged from the hospital. Fiona brought him back to our home. Nathan, perched in a wheelchair, looked around nervously and asked, “Are you sure Oliver won’t be upset about me being here?” Fiona shrugged off his concern. “Let him be. He has no right to question who I bring home, especially since he’s already agreed to the divorce.” Nathan’s surprise was palpable. “I can’t believe Oliver, who loves you so much, would actually agree to this. Did he say it himself?” With a soft “Hmm,” Fiona confirmed it. My spirit floated above them. I was desperate to shout that I was no longer alive and that I had never sent that message about the divorce. Yet whether I screamed or shouted, she couldn’t hear me. Fiona seemed determined to avoid mentioning my name. She changed the subject, saying, “You sit tight. I’ll get you a glass of water.” As she walked away, I noticed Nathan making an attempt to stand from his wheelchair. Nathan was unsteady, and just as he managed to get on his feet, his legs buckled, threatening to send him crashing to the floor. Fiona, seeing his struggle, tossed the water cup aside and rushed to catch him. The two of them tumbled down, Nathan landing heavily on top of Fiona, their bodies tangled in an intimate embrace. Looking deep into her eyes, Nathan said, “I’ve always held back because of Oliver, but now that you two are getting divorced, I feel free. Fiona, I like you—can we start over?” Fiona was clearly moved by his heartfelt declaration. She nodded, tears of joy welling in her eyes. Moments later, Nathan leaned in and kissed her, and she didn’t hesitate to respond with the same fervor. I felt a wave of nausea wash over me. After all those years of marriage, Fiona had always kept me at a distance, never allowing me even the slightest touch, let alone anything more intimate. I had always respected her wishes and never forced myself on her. But now, the woman I had cared for so deeply was wrapped up in another man’s arms, responding to his every advance with a passion I had never witnessed from her. I felt sick to my stomach. I wanted to leave this nightmare behind, but it was as if some invisible force held me captive, making me a helpless witness to this steamy scene. The sounds of their pleasure pierced through my ears as they somehow ended up rolling onto the bed, right in front of our wedding photos, crossing boundaries I had never imagined they would. I clamped my hands over my ears, trying to block out the reality unfolding before me. Time stretched on, feeling like an eternity, until finally, an hour had passed, and they drew their intimate encounter to a close. I watched coldly as the two of them lay in bed, having just finished their tryst. Fiona got out of bed and headed to the bathroom. After she cleaned herself up, she decided to find a fresh pair of pajamas. But when Fiona opened the cupboard, she couldn’t find a single clean set. I used to take care of all the household chores—cleaning the clothes and preparing meals. I’d pampered her like a princess, so Fiona never had to worry about a thing. But now, nearly a week since my death, our once-tidy home had become a filthy mess. Irritated, she picked up the scattered clothes from the floor and dumped them into the washing machine, only to realize she had no idea how to use it. The kettle was empty, and the electric pot had no water. When Fiona opened the fridge, a nauseating odor of rotting vegetables hit her. Fiona stared at the chaos before her; her brow furrowed deeply. She thought about calling me but soon remembered her phone was broken and she hadn’t replaced it yet. With a bitter laugh, she muttered, “Oliver, did you really think all your efforts would keep me from moving on? How ridiculous!” With no other option and her stomach growling, Fiona reluctantly ordered takeout. ***** The next day, Fiona bought a new phone. Once she set it up and logged into WhatsApp, she noticed a plethora of unread messages. Among them were a few of my friends. One message read: [Do you know where Oliver is? It’s been a week since he went missing. I invited him to dinner, but he hasn’t shown up.] Fiona frowned but didn’t reply. Instead, she browsed through my status updates. Normally, I was someone who loved sharing snippets of my life, yet I hadn’t posted anything in almost a week. Her frown deepened further, and after a moment of contemplation, she decided to message me again. [Oliver, weren’t you the one who wanted a divorce? We can go get the paperwork in a few days!] The other side replied quickly: [Ha, you’re really eager to be with Nathan, huh? I’ll agree to the divorce, but you owe me for all those years of emotional damage.] [After all these years of marriage, you barely even let me touch you, and you had the nerve to cheat on me with Nathan. You owe me at least three million dollars in damages!] Fiona seethed as she read the message from the other side of my WhatsApp. Her chest heaved with anger. [Oliver, I can’t believe I ever trusted you!] Then, just like that, she transferred 500 thousand dollars to the other end of the chat. Fiona added, [I only have this much! Take it or leave it! See you in court in three days!] With that, she blocked me. Perhaps in her fury, she muttered one last insult, “Oliver, why don’t you just go die!” I thought, “Well, as you wished, Fiona, I really am dead.” If only she had paid a little more attention, she might have realized the truth of my death, but her heart was completely focused on Nathan. Fiona had been swamped with work, but she had taken three months off just to care for Nathan. Three months passed. Fiona finally returned to her job at the hospital. During the monthly staff meeting, the hospital administration brought up the tragic accident that had occurred on the cross-river bridge last month. They mentioned that 17 people had been critically injured and, sadly, one person had lost his life. The young nurse who had taken my ID to find Fiona sat next to her. She tugged at Fiona’s sleeve and leaned in. “Dr. Jameson, do you know who the single fatality from that accident was?” Fiona shook her head. “Actually, it was…” the nurse whispered.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MyFiction” app 🔍 search for “397269”, and watch the full series ✨! #MyFiction #LoveHate

My son, Elijah Rogers, died, killed in a cramped bathroom stall, his head crushed. When my husband, Daniel Rogers, the school principal, arrived at the scene, he rushed to get the attacker, his old flame’s son. Onto an ambulance and quickly left. Before my son died, he comforted me. “Mom, don’t cry. Dad doesn’t believe me, but I’m not sad at all. “As long as you believe me, Mom, that’s enough… At my son’s funeral, I called my husband, Daniel. He shouted at me furiously, “Jerome needed two stitches on his arm, all because your son scratched him! If you keep bothering me, I’ll deal with him when I get back!” I thought, “My son?” I looked at my child’s forehead, a gaping wound the size of a bowl, and closed my eyes. I thought, “Yes, he was my son… So, Daniel, my son, is dead. There’s nothing left between us.” ***** “Elijah, don’t be scared. I called an ambulance. They’ll be here soon. Just hold on, alright?” A trail of blood stretched from the bathroom stall, making my vision blur. It was the blood Elijah had shed as he tried to escape. I could only imagine how terrified and in pain he must’ve been… I pressed on his forehead wound, my hands shaking, but blood kept seeping through my fingers. It wouldn’t stop. Outside, the sound of an ambulance siren approached. “Elijah! The ambulance is here! You’ll be okay!” Then Daniel ran past the window, carrying a boy in his arms, rushing to the ambulance. “Jerome, don’t worry. I’ll make sure you’re alright!” The ambulance sped off as quickly as it came, leaving me barely able to believe my own eyes. I screamed with all my might. “Stop! That ambulance was for us! “Daniel! Elijah’s dying. Come back! “Daniel, I’m begging you…” No one noticed the real victim, barely clinging to life. I quickly dialed Daniel’s number, once, twice, but he never answered. The third time I tried, Elijah grabbed my wrist with his blood-stained hand. “Mom, stop calling… Dad’s not coming back.” My tears fell immediately. “I’m not calling him. I’m calling another ambulance. One will come soon.” “Mom, I can’t breathe…” Elijah’s hand was ice-cold, colder than the tiles he lay on. “Mom, I’m sorry… I won’t be able to protect you anymore… “In my next life, will you be my mom again? “But this time, I don’t want a dad…” Before he finished speaking, his hand went limp. My heart stopped for a moment, and then, all at once, the pain flooded in. Ignoring the blood still flowing from him, I lifted him onto my back, following the trail of blood out. His blood ran down my neck, warm yet silent. “Elijah, don’t be afraid. If the ambulance won’t wait, I’ll carry you to the hospital myself.” Luckily, a kind stranger drove us to the hospital. I knelt in front of the doctor, begging for help, but he just shook his head with a sigh. “He’s been gone for a while… I’m so sorry.” “What? He can’t be dead. He was just talking to me! “Please, doc! Save him!” My vision blurred as a searing pain tore through my heart. The sun was shining outside, but my world had gone completely dark.

At Elijah’s funeral, I finally got Daniel on the phone after three days of trying. “Daniel, Elijah is…” “Don’t say that name! That troublemaker almost broke Jerome’s arm! How’s he supposed to play piano now? Barbara Robinson cried herself unconscious over this! It’s all because of your lousy parenting…” I couldn’t hear the rest of his shouting. I hung up. I thought, “An eye for an eye, a debt paid with blood. For every ounce of pain, Elijah suffered, I would make them pay tenfold, a hundredfold! And as for you, Daniel, it’s time this ridiculous marriage came to an end.” After Elijah’s funeral, I went straight to the hospital. In a private room, Barbara’s son was waving his bandaged arm around, entertaining them with his story. When Daniel saw me, his expression darkened, and he hurried out. “Who let you in here? Jerome’s just starting to recover. Don’t make a scene!” “Daniel, your son is dead, and you still care about someone else’s son!” I shouted, my voice raw, and Barbara and Jerome Martin looked at me, shocked. Daniel’s face grew even colder, and he shoved me back, warning, “Patricia Clark, enough! Ms. Robinson raised her son alone. As a principal, what’s wrong with me helping them out? “Besides, Elijah’s been bullying Jerome for years. This time, he scratched him. You’ve got no right to make a fuss here!” I had these hurtful words memorized by heart. I thought, “Barbara’s husband left her, but Daniel has cared for her all these years. My husband didn’t leave me, but he doted on another woman. Jerome’s dad abandoned him, but he has Daniel’s love. My son’s dad is alive, but he might as well be dead to Daniel…” When the window broke in winter, the freezing wind howled into our house. Daniel was busy learning new recipes for Barbara and Jerome and told me to find a repairman myself. He wasn’t a handyman and didn’t want me relying on him for everything. I continued teaching even when sick while he took Barbara on a state-sponsored conference that doubled as a vacation. He even told me not to be jealous. Even in my career, Barbara always got the promotion first, and Daniel claimed he couldn’t show favoritism as the principal. He had to be fair. When he returned from trips, he brought toys and gifts for Jerome, who bragged in front of Elijah, driving him to break the only birthday gift Daniel had ever given him, for which he was beaten. Barbara’s son was a wolf in sheep’s clothing, always pretending to be sweet while orchestrating Elijah’s bullying from behind the scenes. But Daniel never listened, choosing instead to believe Barbara and Jerome’s twisted tales, always seeing Elijah as the bully. Every time they accused him, Elijah would end up scarred from Daniel’s whippings. There were so many stories like this… I couldn’t even count. Looking at Daniel’s face twisted in anger, I suddenly found it almost laughable. “Fine, if you don’t want me here, then sign the divorce papers.” I held out the papers. I’d already signed them before coming. Daniel didn’t take them. Instead, he slapped them out of my hand and glared at me. “Patricia! Are you done? Stop using divorce to threaten me!” He thought I was trying to win him back, but I couldn’t stand to see him for even another second. “If you don’t sign, I’ll get a lawyer and file for divorce myself…” In the ward, Jerome suddenly cried out in pain. “Danny! My arm hurts so bad…” Daniel dashed back into the room like he was on fire, his voice full of fatherly tenderness. “It’s okay, Jerome. I’m here. Don’t be afraid!” Watching the three of them in that room, more like a family than anything else, I almost burst out laughing. I thought to myself, “If Daniel could talk to Elijah with this tone, Elijah wouldn’t have been so heartbroken and helpless before he died. This is the man I chose to marry, the father of my child. Elijah, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have given you a father like this…” I picked up the divorce papers, threw them into the room, and walked out of the hospital without looking back. I headed to a well-known law firm to consult a lawyer about school bullying. I thought, “Elijah couldn’t die for nothing, and those scumbags can’t just go on hurting others.” Just as I was leaving, I heard someone call my name. “Patricia?” Michael Wright stood there, his face lighting up with the same friendly smile I remembered. He looked just like he had in college, bright, cheerful, and handsome. I smiled and felt a bit embarrassed facing this young man who once pursued me. “Mind if I ask what brings you here? Is there anything I can help you with?” Michael offered me a glass of lemon water. Seeing my hesitation, he added with a warm smile. “I’m a partner here. If you’re in trouble, you can talk to me.” I looked up, surprised, and he was looking back with the same gentle kindness as before. We ended up talking for two hours. He learned everything without offering a trace of pity, just professional respect. It put me at ease like I was talking to a trusted, reliable lawyer. Just then, my phone buzzed. Daniel had sent a message: [Why aren’t you home yet? Do you know what time it is?!] I looked at it for a few seconds, ignored it for the first time, and turned off my phone. Michael noticed but didn’t say anything.

  As we left the café, rain began to pour. Michael raised an umbrella, offering to walk me home. I politely declined, but suddenly, someone came storming toward us. “Patricia! I’ve called you over ten times, and you went and turned off your phone!” Daniel looked furious, his face pale with anger. Seeing Michael by my side, he sneered. “So this is why you’ve been ignoring our kid out on a date with this pretty boy?” “Our kid? You have the nerve to talk about him?” Those words hit a nerve, and Elijah’s hopeless, desperate expression flashed in my mind again. Daniel snapped, “You’re out in the middle of the night while your son’s out there doing who knows what! Look at how Ms. Robinson raises her kids!” “Right! Barbara knows how to raise kids. Go be her husband! Go be her son’s dad! Oh, that’s right. You already are his Danny!” The last word came out as I gritted my teeth. Daniel was taken aback for a moment and then started accusing me again. “Patricia, stop being so petty! He lost his dad. What’s wrong with seeing me as a family?” I took a deep breath, pushing down the bitter ache in my chest, not wanting to waste any more words on this jerk. “Daniel, did you sign the divorce papers?” I turned to Michael. “This is Mr. Wright. He’ll handle my divorce case and Elijah’s bullying case.” Daniel’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean by that? You’re going to throw your son in jail?” Michael had heard enough. “Mr. Rogers, as I understand, it was your son who was bullied. And he… passed away three days ago.” “Shut up! Jerome’s a good kid. He wouldn’t bully anyone!” Daniel protested immediately. Daniel’s attention was still on Jerome, his precious Jerry. He refused to believe Jerome would hurt someone. He glared at me. “You told him that? How dare you slander Jerome! “Jerome was hospitalized from getting beaten up, and you still believe that worthless brat? “I spoiled your son too much. That’s why he turned out to be a bully! “Where’s he hiding? He knows he messed up and ran off, didn’t he? “I’ll beat the life out of him when I find him!” I watched him lose his mind, like a wild horse, lost to reason. I thought, “Jerome… your son. It’s clear who matters to him.” Ever since Barbara showed up at our school, I knew Daniel was gone. So was our family. Barbara and Jerome had an effortless hold on his heart, pulling his emotions like strings. And as for Elijah and me, we were just obstacles he couldn’t wait to push aside. Maybe I was too calm because, after all his shouting, Daniel finally caught on to what Michael had said. “What did you just say? My son died… three days ago?” Michael sneered. “Finally, showing some concern for your own child?” Daniel’s face twisted with rage. Daniel, furious, retorted, “No matter how bad my son is, you don’t get to curse him! You bastard!” Daniel swung his fist at Michael, but Michael caught his wrist and shoved him back. Daniel looked like he wanted to lash out again, but I’d had enough. I slapped him hard across the face. “Elijah is dead! He died three days ago in the school bathroom! “Because your Jerry cracked his skull open! “Jerry even took the ambulance. I called for him! “He bled so much that by the time he got to the hospital, he’d bled out! “You monster! You don’t deserve to be Elijah’s father!” I screamed in a fury that nearly choked me, my eyes burning with tears. Daniel stared at me, stunned, wide-eyed. “You’re… serious? Elijah is really…”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MyFiction” app 🔍 search for “397268”, and watch the full series ✨! #MyFiction #Affair

I stared at the DNA test, my mind spinning. Clear as day: Liam, 4, is Roddy’s son, not mine. How could the child I carried for nine months not be mine?

After six years of marriage, my husband’s childhood friend, Sarah Jensen, posted photos of them cuddling each other on Instagram with a sweet sentence: [It’s a well-known secret that I like you.] I gave her a like, and my husband, Reginald Sinclair, called me immediately. “We are friends. What’s wrong with a hug? Why are you so weird, Grace? Your pretentious behavior really makes me sick!” Three minutes later, Sarah posted another photo of the two hugging and kissing. If it were in the past, I would have cried in front of Reginald and made a scene. But this time, I didn’t care about it anymore. … It was my sixth wedding anniversary with Reginald, and he said he’d be late. I thought he was preparing a surprise for me, so I happily prepared a table full of his favorite dishes. But until nightfall, I didn’t see Reginald. It was not until I saw Sarah’s post on Instagram that I realized that he only remembered Sarah’s birthday and not our wedding anniversary. When Reginald came home, I had already begun to eat. He frowned as he looked at my leisurely appearance. “Why don’t you wait for me to come back for dinner?” I ignored him. Reginald touched his nose awkwardly, sat down next to me, and tasted the dish. “Why is it so salty? Your cooking skills are getting worse and worse. You’ve done nothing at home every day.” Reginald suddenly threw his fork down and stared at me with dissatisfaction. If it were in the past, I would apologize to him humbly and cook it again for him. But now, I didn’t want to pay any attention to him at all. Seeing that I didn’t say anything, Reginald took out a bottle of perfume and put it on the table. “You are not still angry with me, are you? I bought it specially for you. Don’t be so pretentious.” “Well.” I took the perfume and took a look at it. The word “gift” in the lower right corner caught my eye. Reginald seemed to be paying less and less attention to me, and even his perfunctory attitude was not good enough. He could forget our anniversary, but he couldn’t forget Sarah’s birthday. But the perfume looked more and more familiar. I suddenly remembered that it was in the photos Sarah had posted today. I raised my hand and smashed the perfume, and Reginald’s face became gloomy. “I never wear this perfume. Don’t you realize it is a gift?” Reginald suddenly pulled me up and stared at me. “Grace, what are you doing? I’ve already bowed my head. What do you want? I’ve told you so many times. Sarah is just my childhood friend!” “Don’t touch me. Get off me!” My hand was pulled so hard that it hurt. I struggled but fell to the ground, and the perfume fragments pierced my skin. There was a cut on my leg, and blood was flowing out. I frowned in pain and glared at Reginald in dissatisfaction. There was a flash of panic in his eyes, and his expression was a bit stiff. “Why… Why didn’t you dodge? Damn. You’re so troublesome. I’ll take you to the hospital.” I wanted to refuse him. But the pain from the wound made it impossible for me to be stubborn, so I could only nod. Just as I sat in the passenger seat, I noticed the lipstick left on the seat. Neither the brand nor the color was the one I had ever bought. Sarah was demonstrating to me. Reginald also saw the lipstick, and his expression changed slightly. “I think Sarah dropped it off when I dropped her off this morning. Don’t think too much about it.” I looked away, ignoring him, just hoping that Reginald could drive faster. Seeing this, Reginald snorted and started the car. The atmosphere was awkward, and the silence was broken by the unique ringtone Reginald set for Sarah. He pulled over and answered Sarah’s call at once with a smile. “Reginald, I suddenly have a stomachache. Can you take me to the hospital?” Hearing Sarah’s crying voice, he immediately frowned. “I just happen to be going to the hospital. Stay home, and I’ll pick you up right away.” Reginald pressed his lips with a nervous expression and changed direction directly to Sarah’s home. I looked down at my bloody calf and frowned. When we arrived downstairs at Sarah’s house, Reginald asked me to wait for him and ran upstairs nervously. Then, I waited for half an hour.

I was getting impatient and was about to push the car door open to go out when Reginald came back. He held Sarah in his arms and placed her in the back seat carefully. I frowned unconsciously. I had just limped into the car by myself. And Sarah was carried to the car in his arms. I hadn’t seen such a gentle and considerate look from Reginald for many years. Sarah’s eyes instantly turned red the moment she saw me, and she looked at me innocently. “Grace, I’m sorry. I had a severe stomachache so I asked Reginald to pick me up. I hope you won’t be angry.” “Why should she be angry? Sarah, you don’t need to apologize to her. She’s almost thirty years old and still petty,” said Reginald. Before I could say anything, he glared at me with disgust. He used to dislike me like this, and I would cry out of grievance back then. But I didn’t care about Sarah’s provocation or Reginald’s disgust now. Maybe I was immune to them. After arriving at the hospital, Reginald stopped the car and picked up Sarah, making Sarah blush. “I’ll take Sarah to the internal medicine department first. Wait here for a while.” Then, Reginald turned and left with the slightly dissatisfied Sarah. Even if my leg were broken, he probably wouldn’t come. I limped towards the emergency department. The wound on my leg was getting more painful due to the tearing. Before I reached the emergency department, my legs went weak, and I fell heavily to the ground. “Grace, what are you doing? Didn’t I ask you to wait for me in the car?” Reginald’s angry voice sounded. He rushed to me and pulled me up. I shook off his hand and looked at him mockingly. “One hour or two hours?” “Enough! Grace, is it so difficult for you to bow your head to me?” Reginald suddenly got angry at me. He picked me up despite my resistance and walked towards the emergency department. The doctor frowned as he bandaged my wound. When everything was done, he glanced at Reginald. He said with a reproachful tone, “What did you do? The wound is torn like this. Did you let her walk here on her own?” Reginald didn’t listen to the doctor but kept frowning and looking at his phone. Not long after, he cleared his throat, and his eyes wandered. “I’ll go see Sarah first.” I nodded indifferently. It seemed that Sarah acted coquettishly towards him again. The doctor looked at Reginald’s back and reasoned with me earnestly. “Your boyfriend doesn’t care about you enough. You need to talk to him.” I lowered my eyes and smiled, not answering the doctor. What a pity! Reginald and I had been married for six years. However, it would stop in the sixth year. After completing a series of examinations, I washed my face in the bathroom to calm my bad mood. Sarah patted my shoulder from behind, and her sweet voice was sickening. “Grace? Why are you so embarrassed when Reginald is not around?” Sarah looked at me with a sneer and wiped the hand that had patted me with a handkerchief. She had always looked down on me, but it was normal. In everyone’s eyes, I was just a plaything of Reginald.

“I don’t know why Reginald fell in love with you. If I were you, I would have stopped bothering him a long time ago.” Sarah stood opposite me with her arms folded. The disgust in her eyes was apparent. Initially, I had thought that being arrogant and overbearing was her usual style. But later, I found out that it was because Reginald was willing to spoil her. I imitated her, raised my eyebrows, and retorted to her in a sarcastic tone. “I’m no match for you, Ms. Jensen. You’re just a mistress.” “How dare you scold me? You bitch! You’re courting death!” Sarah rushed over and grabbed my collar. I could only look up at her. “If I hadn’t quarreled with Reginald, would it have been your turn?” She then grabbed my hair and shook me hard, swearing dirty and harsh. When Reginald and I got married, he and Sarah had been quarreling. And I only knew about her after we had gotten married. Sarah believed that she was Reginald’s true love, and Reginald never denied it. We had just gotten married when Sarah returned to him. The first time I saw Reginald and Sarah holding hands, he told me it was because he lost the Truth or Dare game. Later, Sarah began to share photos of her and Reginald on social platforms. Reginald said that they were just taking photos as friends. And now the so-called good friends developed into good friends who could kiss each other. No matter if I tried to please him or cried and made a scene, Reginald would scold me for being unreasonable. But luckily, I was ready to let it go. Not long after, Sarah suddenly let go of my hand. I subconsciously stepped back. But she fell to the ground. “Grace! What did you do to Sarah?” Reginald’s angry voice came from behind. He picked up Sarah, who was lying on the ground with tears in her eyes and looked at me with disgust in his eyes. But when Sarah pulled me just now, she had pulled my wound. I didn’t want to bother with them any longer and just wanted to leave. “Who allowed you to leave, Grace? You are becoming more unbridled. Am I too lenient towards you?” Reginald grabbed me with such force that I staggered. In the past, Reginald would worry about me because of minor injuries. But now, the object of his concern became Sarah. The more I looked at Reginald, the more unfamiliar he seemed to me. His eyes were full of anger, and he completely ignored my furrowed brow and gaping wound. “Reginald, Grace was spoiled by you. I am not angry with her. I just want to go home.” Sarah glanced at my bleeding wound. She frowned, pulled Reginald’s arm, and shook it like a spoiled child. Reginald’s frown relaxed because of her words. But when he looked back at me, there was still disgust in his eyes. “I warn you. You’d better behave yourself and stop making me angry.” “I think you should teach your sweetheart how to behave.” Sarah’s acting skills were pretty good. She was the perpetrator, but she could pretend to be a victim. I looked at Sarah with mockery, and Reginald’s face instantly became gloomy. Just when I thought Reginald was going to speak up for Sarah once again, he remained silent. I followed his gaze and saw my bleeding wound. “You… Forget it. Be good these days.” This time, Reginald didn’t scold me as usual. He just hugged Sarah and walked out. Sarah hid in his arms, smiled at me provocatively, and moved her mouth. “Reginald is mine for the rest of his life.” I just felt childish and funny looking at her in this puppyish, food-guarding way. Since she liked Reginald so much, she could just take him away. After all, I hadn’t liked him for a long time.   Reginald returned home at noon the next day with kiss marks on his neck. I was sitting on the sofa applying medicine and didn’t look at him. Reginald sat next to me, his tone rarely gentle. “You are injured. It is inconvenient for you. Let me help you.” Almost every time he went to see Sarah, he would pretend to be affectionate to me the next day. I turned sideways to avoid Reginald, who was trying to take the medicine bottle from me. “Don’t. I’ve been applying the medicine by myself for so many years. It doesn’t matter.” I lost count of the number of times I had gotten hurt because of Reginald. Whenever Sarah cried, he would take his temper out on me. I was about to become a VIP client of the hospital. Reginald’s face looked a bit guilty. He then withdrew his hand with impatience. “You are not still angry with me, are you? I will take you out to play tonight, okay?” Without waiting for me to refuse, Reginald left. Before leaving, I heard him make a phone call and coax the woman on the other end in a gentle voice. “Sarah, where are you? Don’t be angry. I’ll come to find you, okay?” Once Sarah frowned, Reginald would come up to her happily. But I had spent six years without getting a single bit of his true love. When Reginald came to pick me up, we didn’t speak the whole way. After arriving at the destination, I saw his good friends and Sarah. Then, I understood why he took me out to dinner. When Sarah was unhappy with me, she usually set up a party, like now. “Reginald, we have been waiting for you for a long time. Why did you come so late?” Sarah inserted herself between Reginald and me, hugged him tightly, and looked at me with a smug look. I didn’t want to argue with her. She was still so childish at her age. Only Reginald would fall for this. During the meal, I sat in the corner and quietly watched Reginald and the others playing. Sarah glanced at me and walked towards me, holding a glass of wine with ill intentions. “Grace, because of you, Reginald is late today. How about you drink three glasses as punishment?” I frowned and shook my head to refuse her. But Sarah didn’t give up. She raised the glass and urged me to drink it. Between shoves, Sarah spilled the red wine on her and screamed in tears. “Ouch! Even if you don’t want to drink, you can’t spill it on me!” Reginald came over upon hearing this, protecting Sarah behind him, and glared at me. “Why are you always targeting Sarah? She just asked you to have a drink. Can you stop being so crazy every day?” “That’s right. Even if you don’t like Sarah, you shouldn’t be like this.” His friends echoed, looking at me with contempt in their eyes. Sarah and they had grown up together, and she was always spoiled among them. I smiled, picked up a glass of red wine, and walked towards Sarah under her smug gaze. “Okay. I’m sorry, Sarah.” I raised my hand and poured the red wine on her head. Sarah’s smile disappeared in an instant. Reginald held the tearful Sarah in his arms and pointed at me angrily. “Grace, what are you doing?” “You asked me to apologize. This is how I apologize.” Reginald was so angry that he was shaking. He grabbed me and slapped me in the face. “If you are not happy with being my wife, let’s get a divorce!” Reginald always liked to use divorce to force me to compromise. But now, I didn’t care about it. I looked up at his angry eyes and smiled. “Okay. Let’s get a divorce.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MyFiction” app 🔍 search for “397267”, and watch the full series ✨! #MyFiction #pain

On our anniversary, my husband, Benjamin Arnold, left me in the mountains to watch the sunrise with his memorable crush, Hailey Ortega. A sudden rainstorm hit, and I was stuck up there for hours, waiting for him to return, but he never showed up. Instead, Hailey posted a photo on social media with a caption that read: [Your husband is watching the sunrise with me!] In the picture, her chest was covered in hickeys, and there was a bite mark on her collarbone. The two, holding hands tightly and wearing matching rings, were surrounded by roses in a tent. I replied: [If a rabid dog bites someone, they’ll die.] Hailey ignored my reply and sent me more photos of them together. Seeing those pictures made me feel nauseous. At that moment, I felt like Benjamin was disgusting to the core. Benjamin called me, sounding a bit pitying. “The sunrise here is nice. You can take a taxi to join us. Hailey and I can wait for you.” I couldn’t help but scoff. “The double bed isn’t big enough for three. You two enjoy yourselves.” Benjamin was silent momentarily and said, his tone tinged with anger, “What are you talking about? I promised Hailey I’d watch the sunrise with her. Even though it’s our anniversary, I should keep my word. Besides, Hailey’s just a friend. There’s nothing happening between us. “And if you have an issue, bring it up with me, not her. You’re ruining her reputation by saying that. “You know she’s been struggling with depression. She just wanted to see the sunrise. If I said no, who knows what might happen?” With every word, his voice grew quieter. He was an excellent psychologist, knowing how to take care of his patients, but he had long forgotten that I had my own serious psychological issues. It was because of those issues that I met him, married him, and chose to be a housewife. I hung up, not wanting to hear any more excuses for Hailey. It wasn’t until Benjamin tried calling me multiple times and was informed that the number he dialed was out of service that he realized he had left me on the mountain. It was our anniversary. He had agreed to go camping with me and watch the sunrise together. We had already driven to the mountaintop, and the tent was only half-set up when Hailey called. Just hearing her cry made Benjamin anxious. He kicked me out of the car and drove straight down the mountain, only telling me that Hailey wanted to watch the sunrise too and that he would be back in half an hour at most. But I ended up waiting nearly five hours. Suddenly, a rainstorm hit, blowing away the tent. I finished all our food, but he still never returned. My phone worked sporadically. When I finally had a signal, I wasted precious time listening to Benjamin’s explanation. He was enjoying the sunrise with Hailey while I sat alone on the mountain until dawn. Just as I was starting to lose consciousness, I received a message from Benjamin: [Wait, I’ll be there soon.] I found a booth to wait in and sent him my address. But I waited until the rain stopped, and he still didn’t show up. Eventually, a local found me and called the police, and I was taken to the hospital. I had a high fever and a terrible headache. While resting with an IV drip, I saw Benjamin’s updates: [My little fool even misread the navigation on the way home, and now she wants me to pick her up.] Hailey replied: [You’re my navigation, always finding me when I’m lost.] I couldn’t help but sneer and hit like on his post. But soon after, I refreshed my feed and saw that Benjamin had deleted the post. Hailey commented with a crying emoji under another of his posts. Once I finished the last bag of fluids, I took a taxi home. I ordered takeout, asking the delivery guy to leave it at the door, and then fell asleep on the couch, feeling dizzy. Suddenly, there was a loud rap on the door.

The noise felt like it was pounding in my brain. I opened the door angrily, assuming it was the delivery guy. “Didn’t I tell you to leave it at the door?” To my surprise, I was met with a slap. “Cynthia Watkins! What the hell are you yelling about? Hailey doesn’t owe you anything!” It was Benjamin, followed closely by Hailey, whose eyes were red and who was holding the takeout I had ordered, looking vulnerable. Benjamin snapped, “I told you to wait for me, but you left. Hailey and I looked for you for ages! “Look at her, she’s soaked. This is all your fault.” As he said this, he took the new coat I had bought and draped it over Hailey. She entered naturally, changing into a pair of slippers that belonged to her. Benjamin had bought a pair of light yellow slippers with bunny ears for our home. I thought they were for me, wearing them when I got home. But Benjamin was furious, scolding me and buying Hailey an identical pair. “The bunny ears are so cute! Thanks, Benji,” Hailey said. She did have a lovely smile. But I just felt sick watching it. She walked to the table, naturally placing my takeout down before digging in. “That’s my food!” I shouted. Benjamin took off his coat and looked at me with irritation. “It’s just food. Why are you making a fuss? Hailey got drenched in the rain looking for you. What’s wrong with sharing? “Go grab some cold medicine and make her some vanilla pudding. Hailey’s delicate, and she might catch a cold.” Hailey nodded, smiling, and as she tasted my pudding, she frowned, saying it was too sweet and not as good as her own. Benjamin chimed in, saying I always tried but never succeeded at anything. My head hurt so much. I approached Hailey, snatched the soup I ordered, and dumped it over her head. “This should warm you up,” I sneered. Benjamin shoved me away, and since I was so weak, I fell to the floor. He stepped over my hand, grabbed my bath towel and pajamas, and handed them to Hailey. “Go wash up.” He then closed the bathroom door and turned to face me. I stood up and slapped him before he could say anything. “Who gave you the right to give my things to her? Do you have no shame?” He grabbed my wrist and pressed it against the wall. “I paid for everything in this house. I can give them to whoever I want. You use my money for everything, and now you hit me? “Hailey is far more mature and understanding than you. She put up with your nonsense without complaint, and here you are making a scene. Aren’t you embarrassed?” His grip was so tight it left bruises on my wrist. Finally, Hailey emerged from the bathroom, wearing my pajamas, and whimpered, “Benji, Elyse just called me and invited you and Hailey to the bar.” “Hailey, I know you’re upset. I’ll never ask Benji to spend time with me again, even when I’m feeling lost and helpless.” She held my hand, promising over and over. Elyse? Those rich people never invited me anywhere. Even if I went, they’d find a way to ditch me and wouldn’t think to include me in their plans. I weakly waved my hands. “Just go away! I’m tired.” Benjamin ignored my feeble protests and roughly pulled me up from the bed. “I’ll take you to the hospital. If you’re okay, you can join them. I’m tired of hearing you complain that I never take you out.” “I said no!” I struggled, but he still dragged me to the car. I sat in the back seat. Hailey, in the passenger seat, pointed at a note that read “For Hailey Only” that she had placed there, grinning. “Benji, I was just joking, but you actually put it on.” “It’s just a post, and you’re already so happy?” Benjamin chuckled.

Hailey nodded. “We girls love a bit of formality. Right, Cynthia?” She shot me a provocative look. The fever that had just begun to fade started to flare up again. I gritted my teeth and retorted, “Pigs get tagged before they’re sent to the slaughter. I didn’t think you were one of them.” The car fell silent. Hailey lowered her gaze, not saying a word. After a moment, she pulled out the nail clippers she always carried with her and began tearing up the note, mumbling apologies as she did. Her actions grew increasingly loud, and the noise started to get on my nerves, so I put on my headphones and tuned her out. Benjamin kept glancing at me through the rearview mirror. Surprisingly, he ignored whether Hailey was getting sick and said, “Hailey, Cynthia was in a pretty serious condition. I’m taking her to the hospital first.” “Okay! Cynthia’s health comes first,” Hailey replied. Benjamin drove me to the hospital. My condition had worsened from the constant stress caused by him and Hailey, and I was now suffering from pneumonia. The doctor’s emergency notice changed from a simple infusion to a hospital observation. Hailey was reluctant to stay in the hospital. She kept checking her phone, looking anxious as if someone was constantly messaging her. “If you want to go hang out with your friends, go ahead,” Benjamin said to her. “I’ll stay here with Cynthia.” Hailey shook her head, her face a mask of distress. “Taking care of someone is tiring. I can’t just leave you alone. If Cynthia needs anything, I’ll be right there.” Upon hearing that, Benjamin gently caressed her face. Hailey actually cried out of grievance. It was as if the seriously ill person wasn’t me but her, and the one who was truly hurt wasn’t me but her. Benjamin seemed to feel the same way. He murmured apologies and hugged her to comfort her. I was the only victim in this absurd love triangle. In the end, Benjamin left my side to join Hailey at a party. When the nurse came to reapply my dressing, she called out repeatedly, but I had fallen asleep. It was nearly dawn when I was jolted awake by the strong smell of alcohol. As I opened my eyes slowly, I saw two figures nearly entwined together. Hailey’s fingers were running through Benjamin’s hair, and his neck was covered in her hickeys. They had carried on from my hospital room into the hallway, oblivious to everything until the nurse finally spoke up, telling them to stop. Tristan, the doctor treating me, couldn’t help but chuckle and asked, “Is that your husband?” I nodded. He looked down and smirked, “Wow, you’re really generous. They’ve practically turned your ward into a hotel, and you just let them get on with it.” “So, should I be applauding? I’m way too weak for that,” I replied dryly. He fell silent and glanced around my bedside, which was bare—no food, no drink, and no one to care for me. Then he handed me his number. “Call me if you need anything.” During my hospital stay, Benjamin barely showed up. He only sent me a message telling me to let him know if I felt unwell and that he’d come by as soon as he could. But when I tried to reply, my message wouldn’t go through. He had also blocked me on all social media. Even when I went to pay my hospital bill, I discovered that all my money had been drained from my account, leaving me with just ten dollars. In the end, I had to borrow money from Tristan to cover the hospital bills. Meanwhile, Hailey updated her Instagram, posting about her vacation with Benjamin on a nearby island, staying in luxury hotels. I recognized the bag she was carrying as mine, and the swimsuit she wore was one I had bought but never had the chance to use. Benjamin had even showered her with a truckload of flowers. This was all my money. When I was discharged, I received a message from Hailey: [Don’t come near Benji unless absolutely necessary. He thinks you’re disgusting.] I called the police. “Hello, I’d like to report a theft. Someone has stolen my property and used my bank card.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MyFiction” app 🔍 search for “397266”, and watch the full series ✨! #MyFiction #sad

Three years in prison for Jackson. As I stepped out of the jail, he was celebrating his third wedding anniversary with our son, Barry Gellar, and his beloved, Rebecca Perez. On the giant screen, Barry passionately kissed Rebecca, proclaiming, “I’m proud to have such a great mom.” I turned to Jackson, questioning, “If Rebecca’s his mom, then what am I?” Jackson accused me of being jealous, “What’s a little sacrifice for our son?” Suddenly, I felt utterly tired. As I handed him the divorce papers, Jackson asked with a frown, “Is this really about that little thing?” “Yes, it is. I don’t want you or our son anymore!” … On the day I stepped out of prison, I tossed aside everything I had—except for a single photograph of our little family from three years ago. As I finally walked through those heavy doors, the long-awaited sunlight kissed my face, and the air felt fresh and full of life. I stood there, soaking it all in, yet the hours stretched on from morning to evening without a sign of Jackson. When the prison guard finished their shift and took me to the city, she tried to reassure me, “You’ll be okay. Your family might take some time to adjust, but it’ll get better.” I nodded, the city’s neon lights blinding me as I tilted my head skyward to glance at the huge screen across the river. “Three, two, one…” The countdown echoed in my ears as familiar faces filled the screen. There was Jackson standing beside Rebecca, my son Barry grasping Rebecca’s hand tightly. A reporter below shouted, “Ms. Perez, you just won the Ruby Design Awards Gold Medal! What do you have to say?” With composure and grace, Rebecca faced the camera, her smile radiant. “I’m thrilled! And I must thank my wonderful husband and son.” The reporter nodded appreciatively, saying, “Ms. Perez is indeed a fantastic wife and mother! We’d love to hear from your family!” Barry jumped at the chance, grabbing the microphone. “Let me speak! I’m so proud to have such an amazing mom!” The camera shifted to Jackson. “And how about you, sir? Your actions say more than any words could!” A stir of excitement rippled through the crowd as someone jovially shouted, “Hey, isn’t today your three-year anniversary?” “Give her a kiss, give her a kiss!” came the chant. Amidst the cheers, I couldn’t take my eyes off the screen. Jackson seemed hesitant at first, but Rebecca leaned in, clearly unbothered by the attention. Barry gave Jackson a playful push, practically forcing him into Rebecca’s arms for a passionate kiss. I thought, “My brave boy—what a wingman! Deep inside, he must surely be thinking even more highly of his new mom, right?” Three years is neither a short nor a long time—it felt long enough that my longing for them made the days drag on like years but short enough that hopes for the future slipped right through my fingers like grains of sand. I had dreamt countless times of the moment we would embrace again, but the reality was quite different—it was them sharing that joy, not us. After three years behind bars, my family was gone. In this world, I felt like an unwanted ghost. With nowhere left to go, I returned to my grandfather Morton Aniston’s manor. The room was filled with heavy, dusty old furniture, the sun casting a dim light on everything. Morton’s memorial photo stood in a place of honor, looking over me with that ever-stern expression. I crouched before it, overcome with grief. Morton had never approved of Jackson. He once said that his little princess didn’t deserve to suffer alongside another man in tough times. We had fought bitterly about it. I told him that even if he looked down on Jackson, Jackson would soar to great heights. Jackson had that stubborn determination, and he did make something of himself. Then, just as he reached the pinnacle of his career, he was wrongfully accused of contract fraud. I took the fall for him, convinced that as long as Jackson was out there, he’d find a way to clear my name. But after I was incarcerated, he couldn’t find the evidence, and our son kept growing up without either of us. I didn’t know how long I sobbed before sleep eventually claimed me. When I woke again, there they were—Jackson and Barry—standing behind me. Seeing me on the floor, Jackson quickly shed his suit jacket and placed it over my shoulders. His voice held a note of reproach. “We searched all night, and you weren’t home. What are you doing here?” Confused, I lifted my gaze. “Where is my home?” The last time I had seen Jackson was a year ago during a visit. He had stopped coming, saying work was keeping him tied up with too many responsibilities. Barry was staring around at the Aniston manor; his nose crinkled in distaste. “What is this place? It’s filthy!” His gaze landed on me, suspicion in his eyes as he stepped back. “Dad, who is this old lady?”

The last time Jackson brought our son to see me, Barry was just a year old—too young to remember anything. Now, at three, he looked at me as if I were a stranger. Prison didn’t have beauty salons or yoga studios. I managed to keep my body in basic shape, but without proper skincare and with the prison’s enforced hairstyle, I had aged more than I cared to admit. “Barry, say ‘Mommy,’” Jackson urged softly. He shrugged off Jackson’s hand, his face scrunched up in defiance. “She’s not my mom! My mom is Rebecca! The famous designer! This woman doesn’t even wear designer clothes and has no style at all!” Jackson helped me to my feet, but my legs felt numb, and I stumbled right into his arms. Jackson was caught off guard, but his eyes lit up with joy. He stroked my hair, a satisfied smile spreading across his face. “Emilia, prison has certainly softened you.” My body tensed at his words. I mused, “Softened? Is that what he likes gentle women?” But I remembered how Jackson once said he loved my fierce spirit. That fierceness had always been reserved just for him. I never let him stay late at the office—too many late nights would hurt his liver. I forbade him from drinking with clients—it would wreck his stomach. I wouldn’t allow him to revise proposals endlessly—it would strain his eyes. And I definitely wouldn’t let him smoke to fit in with the crowd—it would damage his lungs. Yet, I had forgotten to tell him the one thing I couldn’t stand: him loving someone else because that would break my heart. I pushed Jackson away, quickly lowering my gaze. He misinterpreted my actions as shyness, his smile widening. I was just heartbroken, letting the tears spill silently onto the floor. But I swore this would be the last tear I shed for him. “Shall we go home?” he asked, his voice hopeful. “No, I’ll clean this place up and stay here,” I replied lightly, my meaning crystal clear. Barry, bored and restless, tugged on Jackson’s arm, eager to leave. “Dad, we promised Mom we’d go to the aquarium today to see the sea lions!” I remembered the time when Barry was still in my belly, feeling him kick like a little sea lion. I had told Jackson that once he was born and grown up, we’d take a family trip to the aquarium. Jackson frowned at Barry’s words. “Barry, I’ve told you, this is your mom.” “I don’t want to hear it! She’s not! I only want Rebecca as my mom!” With that, Barry bolted outside. As we rushed after him, the screech of tires echoed, and Barry fell to the ground, crying and clutching his face. “Barry!” In an instant, I dashed toward him, my heart aching at the sight of his scraped knee. But Barry pushed me away with surprising force. I was taken aback—what kind of hatred could a three-year-old muster to shove me like that? His cries grew louder, more desperate. “I want my mom! I want my mom!” Jackson turned away from me, scooping Barry into his arms to comfort him. “Don’t worry. Daddy will take you to find Mommy. We’ll go find Mommy.” At that moment, my mind was a whirlwind. The son I had carried for nine months, the one I had dreamt about day and night, didn’t even recognize me as his mother. It tore at my heart. I mused, “But then again, he is just a child. What does he truly understand? Have I been absent for so long that he has come to see someone else as his mom?” Guilt washed over me. Feeling overwhelmed, I reached out and took Barry from Jackson’s arms. “Sweetheart, don’t cry. Mommy will take you to the hospital, okay? It won’t hurt anymore. I’m sorry, baby.” Barry’s tiny fists pounded against my face, and I felt nothing but numbness. He yanked at my hair with all his strength, shaking my head violently. “I hate you! I hate you! It’s your fault I lost my mommy! Why don’t you just die? Just die!” I looked into Barry’s eyes, and there was no trace of affection—just pure resentment. My feet felt like they were stuck in concrete, frozen in place. Jackson took Barry back, soothing him. “Daddy will take you to find Mommy.” But he wasn’t talking about me. I could no longer hold back my emotions. I grabbed Jackson almost frantically. “If Rebecca is his mom, then what am I?” Jackson’s eyes darkened with anger, tinged with disappointment. “Emilia, what’s the big deal? What’s a little sacrifice for our son?”

Jackson took my hand and gently ushered me into the car, his voice calm but strained, as if he were trying to keep his frustration in check. “Emilia, it’s a lot for him to take in right now. Let’s give it some time, okay?” After a quick check at the hospital revealed Barry was fine, we headed back to their villa. I had some things I needed to collect. At the entrance, Rebecca was anxiously waiting. The moment Barry stepped out of the car, he ran straight to her. She knelt down, concern etched on her face as she examined his injuries, tears welling up in her eyes. “How did this happen? Does it hurt?” Barry wiped away her tears and cupped her face, planting a kiss on her cheek. “I’m okay, Mommy. Don’t cry. I want to sleep with you.” He was being so sweet and affectionate, charming Rebecca as he leaned into her. My heart twisted at the sight. My son was so polite and caring, just as I had always hoped he would be. Rebecca stood up and took the items from Jackson’s hands, effortlessly helping him out of his suit jacket, as if she had done this a thousand times before. “Amanda, fetch the stomach-soothing soup and Barry’s milk,” she said, her tone authoritative, as if she were the head of the household. While they basked in their little family moment, I slipped away to the study, searching for my design sketches. After rummaging through drawers and files, I came up empty. Then it hit me. I quickly booted up the computer and searched for “Rebecca’s designs.” One by one, my sketches appeared on the screen, each one an echo of my creativity. In the three years since I’d been locked away, Rebecca had built her career on my stolen work, becoming a renowned designer in the process. I marched downstairs to confront her. “Rebecca, you stole my sketches, didn’t you?” Her gaze darted away, and she forced a sheepish smile before shifting her eyes to Jackson. I didn’t understand what that meant until he spoke up, “I gave them to Rebecca.” His calm delivery of those words felt like a punch to the gut, and there wasn’t a hint of remorse on his face. “Emilia, those sketches are useless in your hands,” I insisted, my voice rising. “Useless? Why would you say that?” My heart ached at the thought of my hard work being dismissed. Jackson exhaled sharply, reaching out as if to place a comforting hand on my shoulder. I instinctively brushed his hand away. “Don’t touch me!” He knew better than anyone how passionate I was about jewelry design. Each sketch was a piece of my soul, crafted after countless sleepless nights and bursts of inspiration. If it weren’t for the time I spent in prison to cover for him, I’d be at the pinnacle of the design world by now. “Emilia, face the facts. Who’s going to celebrate a criminal as a designer?” he said, his voice laced with a mix of empathy and hard truth. I had traced Jackson’s face with my fingers countless times in prison, yet now, I barely recognized him. “And what about you? Isn’t stealing my designs just as criminal? I want a public apology from you, a joint statement admitting you took my sketches, or I’ll go public myself.” Jackson grasped my hand, trying to pull me back from the brink. “Come on, don’t make this harder than it needs to be. Those sketches don’t have names on them. Anyone can use them. Plus, can you really bear to let people know your son’s mother is a convict? Have you thought about his future? “Tomorrow, I’ll ask Amanda to leave. You can stay home and take care of things. You can always be Barry’s mom at home, right?” “What about outside?” I shot back. Jackson stood there, visibly disappointed, his eyes downcast. “Emilia, does the outside world really matter that much? I’m not the same Jackson anymore. Our son needs a resume he can be proud of.” So Barry’s resume hinged on having a CEO dad and a renowned designer mother. Once one person had been in prison, they expected him to live in the shadows forever. I forced a wry smile. I felt a mix of sorrow and fury well up inside me, leaving me speechless. I mused, “Who is truly fixated on appearances here?” Rebecca walked over to Jackson and spoke softly, “Maybe I should just head out.” “No need for that,” Jackson and I replied simultaneously, the absurdity of our shared response hanging in the air. “I’m leaving,” I declared, turning on my heel. Behind me, Rebecca sounded remorseful. “I’ll talk to Emilia. You two don’t need to fight because of me…” Jackson snapped, “That has nothing to do with you. Does she think she’s still the old Emilia? She can’t even see how far she’s fallen!” After I inserted my SIM card, my phone buzzed with the first incoming call. “Is this Ms. Aniston? Your grandfather has left you an inheritance.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MyFiction” app 🔍 search for “397265”, and watch the full series ✨! #MyFiction #Marriage

My sister, Emma Thompson, and I married two brothers of the Wellington family on the same day. She married the older brother, who was a rescue team member, Oliver Wellington, and I married the younger brother, who was the best doctor in cardiology, Edward Wellington. In the seventh year of our marriage, Emma and I were in a car accident on our way back from the welfare institution with my son, Triton Wellington. Triton had a congenital heart disease. The doctor said there would be a better chance of success if Edward operated Triton. I called him frantically. But when I finally got through, he said to me impatiently, “Chloe sprained her ankle. I’m asking for leave to take care of it for her. Do you really need to check on me all the time?” Before I could say anything, Edward just hung up the phone. The call could no longer be connected then. The eight-month-pregnant Emma, sitting in the back seat, was hit hard while protecting Triton. Blood was constantly flowing from her lower body. Emma immediately called Oliver. But Oliver angrily scolded her, “You’re pregnant. Why aren’t you at home but messing around with Rachel? Is it such a coincidence? Chloe got injured, and you both got into a car accident together? You are liars!” With that, Oliver also hung up the phone angrily. The heavy rain caused mudslides in the mountains and traffic jams. Ambulances could not get in, delaying the best time for our treatment. That day, Emma had heavy bleeding and induced labor, while Triton died on the operating table despite failed rescue efforts. After completing Triton’s cremation procedures, I sent a message to Edward asking him to find time to come back and get a divorce. I hadn’t been able to reach him yesterday, but he called me within a minute of receiving the message. I answered the phone, and Edward yelled at me angrily, “Rachel, did you get kicked in the head? Why do you want a divorce? Our child is already 5 years old. “Do you want to divorce me just because I didn’t go home yesterday? You are too ridiculous! I told you that it rained heavily yesterday, and Chloe sprained her ankle. I went to her house to treat it. Besides, Oliver was there, too. What are you doubting? “You know Chloe has depression. Her family has been kind to me. My parents asked us to take care of her. Why can’t you be more considerate? “You’ve been asking me to spend more time with Triton. Doesn’t divorce hurt Triton psychologically? Don’t use Triton as an excuse ever again. I performed his heart surgery, and he recovered very well. He won’t have a heart attack.” Before I could say anything, Edward hung up the phone. I gripped my cell phone and gritted my teeth tightly in anger! Edward and I had been in love for 3 years and married for 7 years. I had taken good care of Triton until he was 5 years old. But I didn’t expect that I would miss the chance to save Triton because Edward’s childhood friend sprained her ankle! Chloe had posted on Instagram yesterday morning saying she was going out for a picnic. How come she suddenly sprained her ankle at home? Chloe’s tricks were endless, but Edward always dropped everything to find her. I had suddenly developed acute gastroenteritis in the late-night last month, and Edward clearly promised to take me to the hospital. But just as we got in the car, Edward received a message from Chloe saying that she was drunk and asked him to pick her up. Edward kicked me out of the car without saying a word. Before I could say anything, he just drove away. Thinking about how miserable I looked yesterday, sitting on the ground outside the emergency room with my injured legs, I was furious. Yesterday was the day of my routine trip to the rural welfare institution. Triton had insisted on going with me early in the morning. I couldn’t persuade him. But he would be bored if he stayed alone in the back seat for too long, so Emma agreed to go with us. A sudden rainstorm in Reviton in the afternoon affected my vision. When the truck came flying over, I held the steering wheel tightly but still couldn’t escape the fate of being hit. Emma tried her best to protect Triton, but she suffered abdominal pain and bleeding due to the violent collision. Triton covered his chest, his face pale and weak as he shouted to me, “Mom, it hurts.” My legs were stuck, and I couldn’t move. I could only stretch out my hands and keep calling Triton’s name. “Triton, don’t be afraid. I’m here.” Triton had a congenital heart disease, and Edward was the top surgeon in the cardiology department of Reviton Central Hospital. I called him frantically, but he hung up many times and sent me a message: [I’m on a medical trip and very busy.] I looked at Triton, who was about to faint in the back seat and mustered up the courage to continue calling him. After finally getting through, I quickly said, “Honey, Emma, Triton, and I were in a car accident on the way home from the welfare institution. Can you come and save us? Triton is almost unconscious…” I endured the pain in my legs and shouted at the phone as loud as I could. But the person on the other end of the line was stunned for a few seconds without replying. Then, he said to me impatiently, “Chloe sprained her ankle, and it’s raining heavily outside. I asked for leave to treat it for her. Do you really need to check on me all the time? “It is the doctor’s duty to save the dying and the wounded. Now is working time. Please don’t disturb me!” When Edward was speaking, I could hear Chloe hissing beside him. Before I could say anything, he hung up the phone. Edward was an expert in cardiology. Why would he go out to treat Chloe’s ankle injury? With my soft calls, Triton gradually fell into a coma. The heavy rain caused mudslides in the mountains and traffic jams. The ambulance called us and asked us to wait patiently. Emma, in the back seat, held her stomach and endured the pain. She sent a voice message to curse, “Edward, you are a piece of shit! You are doing shady things under the name of a doctor! You deserve to be hit to death!” Then, Emma immediately called Oliver. But after she said the same thing as me, Oliver angrily said, “You’re pregnant. Why aren’t you at home but messing around with Rachel? Is it such a coincidence? Chloe got injured, and you both got into a car accident together? You are liars! Go home and rest as soon as possible! “Also, I’m with Edward. Please be more polite to him next time!” With that, Oliver also hung up the phone angrily. Oliver was the captain of the rescue team. Emma instinctively wanted him to teach her some knowledge on how to save herself. But she was unable to contact him until the ambulance arrived.

I sat by the bed, waiting for Emma to wake up from the anesthesia. Looking at her pale lips, I felt self-blame. After Emma woke up, she looked at my arm with blue spots from the blood transfusion. Her eyes turned red, and she started crying. I told her that Triton had passed away after failed rescue efforts. Emma touched her flat belly and cried until her body shook. I hugged her tightly and said, “I’m sorry, Emma. I shouldn’t have asked you to go with me.” Emma had finally had her first child after seven years of marriage. In order to have a child, Emma had sought out many famous doctors to treat her body. She was even hospitalized for three months in the early stages of her pregnancy due to severe vomiting. I felt sorry for her, and she felt sorry for me, too. Emma shook her head and said to me, “It’s my fault. If I hadn’t agreed to go with Triton, it wouldn’t have happened. Triton is still so young…” At this time, Oliver called and asked, “The nanny said you didn’t go home all night. What did I tell you yesterday? Don’t you know what your condition is? “Tell Rachel to stop using the excuse of being injured to trick Edward into going home. Chloe had a depression attack yesterday, and Edward and I took care of her all night. We will be back soon. Go home, and make me some fruit. I’m so tired. “Don’t get involved in Rachel’s affairs all the time. She’s even clamoring to divorce Edward. It’s really funny. Does she dare to divorce?” Without waiting for Emma to speak, Oliver hung up the phone again. She stared at the group photo taken during her pregnancy on her phone and once again shed tears. I quickly comforted Emma. “You just had surgery. You can’t be too excited. Take a good rest.” Emma hugged my waist tightly and said, “I’m so tired. I want a divorce, too.” For a moment, we hugged each other and cried. Our emotions that had been suppressed for a long time ultimately burst out now. We used to think that it was a perfect thing for sisters to marry two brothers. But now, we were both hurt. During lunch, Chloe posted a photo on Instagram that showed them having dinner at a terrace restaurant and her tightly bandaged ankle. It was with the caption: [Childhood friends are always no match for the newcomers. But I think I should be an exception.] I handed my phone to Emma. She smiled bitterly, “The newcomers are always no match for childhood friends.” I silently gave Chloe a like and commented: [The relationship between you three is really enviable.] When I refreshed the page again, I found that Chloe had blocked me. Then, Edward called me. He asked angrily, “Rachel, what’s wrong with you? Your comment scared Chloe so much that she started crying without even eating.” Chloe’s choked voice came from the other end of the phone. “Edward, don’t blame Rachel. It was me who made her misunderstand.” Then, Chloe explained, “Rachel, I’m sorry. They saw that I was hurt and felt sorry for me, so they took me out to eat something delicious. Please don’t misunderstand.” I snorted, “I don’t misunderstand you. You can play for a few more days.” Hearing this, Chloe said to Edward tenderly, “Edward, Rachel seems angry.” With that, Edward replied impatiently, “She is insane. Ignore her.” He then just hung up the phone.

After Chloe blocked me, Emma saw her posts on Twitter. During the past few years, Chloe accumulated more than one hundred thousand followers by posting daily posts. Chloe showed off her injured ankle and a floor full of luxury gifts. One of the bracelets had been bought by Edward at an auction for a large sum of money half a month ago. It was a work by a designer I liked very much. I had always thought Edward bought it for me as an anniversary gift. I contacted my firm’s attorney and asked him to draw up two divorce agreements for us. After getting married, Emma quit her job and became a part-time writer. I pursued my dream and became an advertising planner. Edward had suggested several times that I quit my job and go home. At this point, I suddenly realized how important it was to have my career. The following day, I asked someone to deliver two divorce agreements to Edward and Oliver. Emma and I waited until the evening but never received a call from them. It only took a moment for us to feel heartbroken, as the person who sent the agreements for me had clearly told me that they accepted it themselves. Since they didn’t contact us, I had to contact them as our representative. I had called Edward three times before he got through. Edward scolded me on the other end of the phone, “If you have a brain problem, Rachel, go get treatment. You had a car accident the day before yesterday, and you sent me a divorce agreement today. Are you going to tell me you’re dead next? “Why do you have so many tricks every day? “I’m busy. I have many surgeries to perform every day. I don’t have time to play these childish games of anger and apology with you.” Before he finished speaking, my heart sank to the bottom of the ice. He was a doctor at the Reviton Central Hospital. If he trusted me once, he would check the file and know whether the car accident was true or not. Just as I was about to talk about signing, I heard Chloe’s sweet voice. “Edward, it’s my turn. I need to change the dressing on my foot.” Edward was a cardiologist. But Chloe actually made an appointment with him just to change the medicine. I sneered, “Change her medicine, and sign the papers. Let’s go through the divorce procedures.” I was just about to hang up when Edward got annoyed and yelled, “I’ll be home early tonight so we can have a good chat. Chloe asked someone to buy Triton his favorite limited edition Lego toys. I’ll bring them to him.” But then, Chloe said unhappily, “Edward, didn’t we agree to eat at that restaurant together after getting off work…” Before Chloe could finish, Edward hung up the phone. That night, I didn’t go home, and Edward didn’t call me. I had stayed with Emma in the hospital for a whole week. When Emma took a nap in the afternoon, I would go to the cemetery to see Triton. Triton liked sunflowers the most, and I bought him a bunch every day. In the evening, Emma felt better. We went downstairs for a walk together. We happened to run into Chloe, walking towards the cardiology department, carrying a lot of bags. We didn’t want to greet her, but Edward bumped into us. Emma was standing behind me. When Edward saw me, he angrily scolded me, “Rachel, how dare you come directly to my workplace to find me?” Chloe glanced at me and quickly said, “You haven’t been home for a week. Rachel is worried about you. Don’t be angry, Edward.” I sneered, “So you haven’t been home for a week.” Hearing my words, Edward became even angrier. “Rachel, I don’t want to go home because you’re insane. You sent the divorce agreement to my department. My colleagues all saw it.” I was so angry that I couldn’t say anything. Emma patted me gently from behind and said, “Edward, you are going too far.” At this time, Oliver said from behind, “What’s going on? You two disappeared for a week, and you finally couldn’t help but come to quarrel today.” Emma and I turned around at the same time. Oliver pointed at Emma with a surprised look and asked, “Where’s the baby?” Just then, Edward looked at me and asked in panic, “Did you really…”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MyFiction” app 🔍 search for “397264”, and watch the full series ✨! #MyFiction #pain

I, Maggie Queen, met my tragic end at the hands of a criminal on my sixteenth birthday. The scene was horrific; my body was left unrecognizable, dismembered, and scattered across various trash bins. I was severed from my father, Irwin Queen, and my brother, Mark Queen, leaving behind only a restless spirit. Before all this unfolded, the thug had threatened me with a smirk, “Irwin’s daughter? Ha! You’ve got a rough road ahead, little girl. Blame your dad for making waves and stirring up trouble with my crew.” Fear coursed through me; I recognized him as one of Irwin’s enemies. He was out for revenge. “What a pity. You’ve crossed the wrong people.” His words left me confused. “Poor thing, just starting high school, huh?” He waved a half-damaged school ID in front of me, mocking my youth. I looked at them with pleading eyes, silently begging for mercy because of my age. “Hahaha! Look at this girl. The way she’s staring at me, it’s like she’s trying to seduce me…” My mouth was tightly gagged, and all I could do was shake my head violently, a cold wave of terror washing over me. “Here’s the deal: you can call your dad. If he coughs up two million in ransom, we’ll let you go. Otherwise, you’re at our mercy,” said the greasy man with tattoos on his arms, a sinister grin plastered on his face. The kidnappers forced me to call home. I feared these ruthless thugs would hurt Irwin and Mark if I did. I shook my head desperately, refusing to make the call. In response, I received a few hard slaps that left me dizzy, my face swelling, and blood trickling from my mouth. “Damn it, you’re making this hard on yourself! I’ll call!” he growled. “How could he even know Irwin’s number?” My mind was spinning in confusion. Then, he dialed the number himself. After a few rings, the call connected, and my heart raced in my chest. They ripped the tape off my mouth. “Hello, who is this?” Mark’s voice came through the line. It was the home phone. The kidnapper took the phone over. “Irwin? Your daughter’s with us.” Mark’s tone dripped with sarcasm. “Maggie, is this your idea of a prank? Getting someone to kidnap you? “How much do you want? A million? Five million?” “No! Mark, help me!” I cried out, my voice trembling with fear and desperation. “Mark, hurry and light the candles…” I heard Megan Queen’s voice in the background. They must have been celebrating a birthday. My heart felt like it was being pierced by a thousand needles, the pain overwhelming. “Is this some kind of trick? You think I’ll forgive you for this? Mom died trying to save you, and you’re still a piece of work! Even if you die out there, it wouldn’t matter!” He slammed the phone down hard. “You know, your family really hates you. Can you imagine how they’d react if they found out you were really dead? Hahaha!” The kidnapper’s laughter sent chills down my spine. The rest of the ordeal felt like a nightmare. I thought, “I don’t have a mother anymore, and my dad… he probably wouldn’t care either. Mark only acknowledges Megan as his sister. If he knew I was gone, he’d probably be happy since he’s always wanted me to step aside for her. What are my dad and brother doing right now?” Even in death, I couldn’t shake my concern for the only family I had left. I floated back home, my spirit heavy with sorrow.

The bright lights filled the room, casting a warm glow that felt so foreign to me. Ever since I turned ten, I hadn’t experienced the warmth of a loving home. Right now, Irwin and Mark were busy celebrating Megan’s birthday. The birthday cake sparkled in the candlelight, its sweet aroma mingling with the sounds of laughter, creating a beautiful scene. Megan stood in the center, wearing a white dress, her eyes sparkling with joy, looking every bit like a little princess. Irwin and Mark surrounded her, their faces lit up with smiles, radiating happiness that felt like a world away from me. Since I turned eight, I had been cut off from this warmth. Megan was my nominal sister, the apple of Irwin and Mark’s eyes. She was the student my mother, Miranda Queen, had sponsored since the day I was born. We shared the same birthday, both born in the same month and year, but she grew up in a poor mountainous area. Miranda had said that by sponsoring a sister for me, she was building good karma. This sister, who had no blood ties to me, bore a slight resemblance to Miranda, which made Irwin and Mark dote on her. Far more than they ever had on me. I looked like my rough-edged father, Irwin, and often wished I could resemble Miranda instead. Maybe then, Irwin and Mark wouldn’t harbor such resentment toward me. Megan had a knack for brightening people’s spirits, and her likeness to Miranda won her the love and attention of Irwin and Mark. As for me? I only reminded them of the mother and wife they had lost. A bitter taste spread through my heart, and tears streamed down my face uncontrollably. By ten o’clock, they were getting ready for bed, and no one mentioned me at all. Irwin glanced at the clock, his irritation palpable. Megan bit her lip and cautiously said, “Maggie still hasn’t come home. Do you think she’s okay?” Mark ruffled her hair and said reassuringly, “She’s fine. It’s a special day, and Maggie probably just lost track of time. She might feel embarrassed to come back. Don’t worry about her, Megan.” Those words hit me hard. They thought I was just avoiding home out of guilt when, in reality, I was gone forever. Irwin frowned but didn’t say anything more. He had received a call about a body found at the dump, and he left early to investigate. In recent years, Cloudia City had seen a significant drop in violent crime, so it was unusual to encounter a case as gruesome as this. I drifted over to take a look at my own lifeless body. My torso lay there, bruised and withered, unrecognizable—like a grotesque puzzle piece. Once a vibrant teenage girl, I had been reduced to something that would terrify a child. Irwin and the other officers had cordoned off the area with police tape, surrounding the site where my dismembered body had been discarded in various trash bins. Two hours later, they collected what remained of my body, but my head was still missing. Those present gasped in horror at the sight of the dismembered pieces. Even the seasoned detectives couldn’t keep their stomachs in check and had to turn away. Mark, a top forensic expert, was urgently called to the scene. I watched helplessly as he began piecing together my shattered form. My body was covered in bruises and scars, each mark a testament to the violence I had endured. I focused on my left hand, where a small mole sat in the center of my palm. It was a reminder of a childhood accident when I accidentally drove a nail into my hand while playing with Mark. Irwin had given Mark a good thrashing for that, and Mark had felt guilty for a long time afterward. Suddenly, Mark stopped working, his sharp gaze fixed on my palm. My heart raced. “Could he realize it’s me? Does he remember that moment from our childhood?” His colleague noticed Mark’s intense focus and eagerly asked if he had found something. Mark snapped back to reality, hesitating before shaking his head. “Nothing. Just something about it feels familiar.” A wry smile crept onto my face. I should have realized it long ago—since I turned ten, Mark had never looked at me the same way again. Maybe he had forgotten that incident. Without my head, DNA testing would take at least three days, and they still couldn’t confirm my identity. “Preliminary assessment suggests the victim is a female aged between fourteen and sixteen, with a time of death not exceeding twenty-four hours,” Mark stated coolly, analyzing the situation with a furrowed brow. His eyes held a mix of sorrow and regret as he concluded that the victim had been alive during the horrific acts inflicted upon her. It was a brutal case of torture and murder. Mark remained composed and objective, unaware that the girl who had suffered such unimaginable pain was the very sister he had always resented. Meanwhile, Irwin was busy gathering evidence and conducting his own investigation.

This was the worst case the city had seen in a decade, and a heavy atmosphere hung over the entire police department. The higher-ups were taking it very seriously, ordering Captain Irwin to solve the case within a strict deadline. Based on the clues they had gathered, the police quickly reviewed surveillance footage from the area. Before long, they identified a chilling scene: three masked men using a van to abduct a female student. Unfortunately, the footage was grainy, making it impossible to see their faces clearly. The abduction was swift and brutal, leading the officers to conclude it was a targeted kidnapping. Irwin stared at the blurry figures, a look of confusion crossing his face. “I can’t shake the feeling that these guys look familiar.” “Could it be someone you know? Maybe a former inmate back out on the streets?” his colleague Vincent Green pondered aloud, a hint of concern in his voice. Just then, Irwin’s phone rang, interrupting their discussion. It was my teacher, Nancy Dona. “Hello, this is Nancy Dona, Maggie’s teacher. I’m calling because Maggie didn’t show up for school today. Is everything okay?” Her voice was laced with worry. Irwin frowned, irritation creeping into his tone. “I don’t know. I’m busy with work right now. If you’re concerned about her, go talk to her uncle.” Nancy hesitated, wanting to say more, but Irwin abruptly hung up, his patience wearing thin. Vincent looked at him, worry etched on his face. “Maggie’s not the type to just disappear. What if something’s really wrong?” “Wrong? What could possibly happen? She’s at her uncle’s place, safe and sound.” Irwin’s tone was dismissive. He was clearly reluctant to discuss me. Seeing Irwin’s stubbornness, Vincent could only shake his head in resignation. When I was younger, Irwin sometimes brought me to the police station. Vincent and the others always treated me like a little princess, showering me with kindness. But after that incident, I hadn’t set foot in Irwin’s workplace since. They all knew that I spent Miranda’s memorial day at my uncle’s house. Irwin’s deep-seated bias against me wasn’t something that could be easily brushed aside with a few kind words. “Irwin… today marks your wife’s memorial. You should take a moment for yourself,” Vincent said gently, hoping to encourage him to take a break. But the pressure from above was relentless. Vincent said, “I’ll be fine. The more I keep busy, the less I’ll dwell on her,” Irwin replied, his voice weary yet resolute. “Alright then, let’s crack this case as soon as we can. And remember, Maggie’s not responsible for what happened. It’s been a while since Miranda passed, and you’ve distanced yourself from her. “Maggie’s hurting too. You lost a wife, and she lost a mother… “She’s always reticent. I bet she’s hurting inside. “That poor girl, she’s about the same age as the victim. Just think how devastated her family must be. Once this case wraps up, maybe you could show Maggie a little more care. Parents and children shouldn’t be at odds.” Vincent’s words struck a chord deep within me, making my heart ache. He saw things clearly from the outside, while Irwin remained stubbornly blind to the reality of the situation. Irwin stood there, momentarily stunned, as if Vincent’s words had finally pierced through his defenses. “Yeah…” was all Irwin managed to say. Vincent recognized that Irwin was beginning to listen.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MyFiction” app 🔍 search for “397263”, and watch the full series ✨! #MyFiction #Hurt

After picking up my daughter Evelina from preschool, she came home in tears, clutching her broken cochlear implant. “Mommy, that boy in my class said this thing is ugly,” she sobbed. “He told me if I dared to wear it again, he’d hurt me.” Fuming with anger, I immediately tagged the boy’s mother in our class group chat. To my surprise, her response was shockingly arrogant: [So what if my son broke it? I even stole your husband—messing with your daughter’s things is nothing. [Sure, you’re the legitimate wife, but you gave birth to a defective child! [My son is the eldest grandson of the Clapham family and the future heir. Who do you think you are?] Even their teacher chimed in, advising me to let it go. [Ms. Isabel Quiller, maybe it’s best to apologize.] Ms. Lytton suggested gently. [After all, you’re both the wives of the Clapham family’s sons, but she gave birth to a healthy boy. Rich families still prioritize sons, don’t they?] I laughed, though there was no humor in it. Immediately, I froze my husband’s credit cards and called him directly. “What did you do? Using my money to fund a mistress while letting her bully me?” I demanded. He cried out in protest. “Honey, you can’t just accuse me of things because I’ve been away for a week!” I was in the study reviewing some documents when my daughter suddenly interrupted me. Before I could say a word, she burst into tears and threw herself into my arms. “Mom, Mommy!” “I don’t want to wear my hearing aid to school anymore!” Hearing her choking on her sobs, my heart tightened. I quickly took her shoulders and asked why. As I spoke, I noticed a clear crack on her hearing aid. Her next words confirmed my suspicions. “Murray Clapham in my class said this thing is ugly. “He… he won’t let me wear it. “He ripped it off my head and threw it on the ground.” Seeing her so upset, I felt a mix of sorrow and anger. Gently, I wiped away her tears. “Sweetie, don’t cry. I will set things straight.” But just as I reached for my phone, her small hand pressed down on mine. Her face was a mixture of fear and desperation as she shook her head. “Please, Mom, don’t. “We can’t afford to cross them! “His family… they’re the richest in town. He’s the son of the richest family.” Her gaze fell, her voice drained. “Never mind, Mom. I’ll just wear a hat to school tomorrow… “So he can’t see it.” I paused, puzzled. The richest? Wasn’t that supposed to be me? After all, I controlled the family’s finances and held the real authority. Since when did I gain a son without knowing? Seeing my daughter so downtrodden ignited a fire in me. “Evelina, don’t worry,” I promised. “Tomorrow, I’ll go to school with you. Let’s see who dares to bully you then.” After calming her down, I picked up my phone and reopened the class group chat, which I hadn’t used in ages. I tagged Murray Clapham’s mother. [Are you aware that your son deliberately broke my daughter’s cochlear implant?] Typically, I was patient, even kind, when handling mistakes made by my employees. But now, seeing my daughter bullied, I found all my composure gone. The once lively group chat went silent as soon as I sent my message. The lack of response from the person in question only fueled my anger. I tagged her again. “Ms. Sara Thomson, are you aware of what your son did?” This time, she responded, and her reply left me speechless. She posted a picture of her son’s hand in the group chat and then tagged me. [Oh, it’s you!] she began. [My Murray came home saying his hand hurt—it’s all red! [Turns out he scratched it pulling that thing off your daughter’s head. [I haven’t even come to you about it, and here you are, acting all offended. Do you even have any shame?] Reading the endless messages from her, I was dumbfounded. I had never seen anyone so brazenly shameless! I typed back without even thinking. [Well, your parenting is certainly a revelation. Truly remarkable. [Seems like there’s no point talking to you here. Let’s discuss this in person at the kindergarten tomorrow!] But as soon as I hit send, her response came back even more brazenly, flaunting her status. [You? Who do you think you are to talk to me? [Do you even know who my son is?] Right then, Daniel Parker’s mom jumped in, quick to support her. [He’s the son of Hughes Clapham, the wealthiest man in the city! [Evelina’s mom, you’d better apologize. Maybe they’ll forgive you if you’re lucky.] Seeing that familiar name, I couldn’t help but laugh. [When we all joined, didn’t we confirm each other’s identities? [Hughes Clapham is my child’s father. Or is there a case of mistaken identity here?] This time, Murray’s mother, sent a voice message. Her shrill voice rang out through my phone. [No mistake at all. We share the same husband! [It’s just that I gave him a son, and you only have a daughter.]

I was so upset that my phone slipped from my hand, clattering onto the table. [What do you mean?] I typed back. Sara sent an emoji first, then boldly revealed her identity. [I’m Hughes’ mistress—but that’s about to change soon enough.] Reading her message made my skin crawl. Daniel’s mother chimed in immediately, ready to flatter her. [Mistress? Who cares about that? Anyone who bears a son is practically a wife!] Jeremy Hayden’s dad joined in. [Only someone as wealthy as Hughes Clapham could pull that off. Impressive!] Then Andrew Tuttle’s mother added her voice, hoping to score points. [Sara, you’ve got real talent—you have a boy, and a strong one at that! [You’re set for life now.] I recognized each word, but somehow, seeing them strung together left me struggling to process the meaning. Immediately after, Sara tagged me directly in the group chat. [Technically, I should show you some respect. [But you only gave Hughes a daughter and a disabled one at that. [Meanwhile, I had a boy. Need I say more about who’s more valuable here? [My son will be the heir of the Clapham family someday. But hey, if you get your daughter on her best behavior, I might just let her stay around in the future.] I couldn’t hold back any longer and typed back furiously. [Are you out of your mind? [Do you really think I wouldn’t know if Hughes had a mistress? [I’m here talking about my daughter—don’t bring up other stuff!] Daniel’s mother immediately jumped in. [Isabel, it’s not too late to admit you were wrong. [You’re all part of the same family, but her son is the firstborn heir, isn’t he?] Andrew’s mom couldn’t resist adding: [Exactly. So you’re the wife. Big deal. All you have is a useless daughter, and you know as well as I do that you are never going to be respected for it.] Their words, heartlessly discussing my daughter’s disability, made my whole body shake with anger. Without a second thought, I grabbed my phone and called my assistant. “Look up everything you can on Daniel Parker and Andrew Tuttle’s families!” The call ended, but new messages were popping up in the group. Sara taunted: [I took your husband. My son damaging your daughter’s hearing device. What can you do about it? [And consider what might happen if you cross me. [Hughes would definitely leave you if I asked him to.] Reading the enthusiastic messages cheering Sara on made me feel sick. I was just about to respond when Ms. Lytton, Evelina’s teacher, called. “Is this Isabel Quiller?” I took a deep breath, trying to control my anger. “Yes, this is she. I just wanted to understand—” She cut me off sharply. “I know this might not entirely be your fault,” she said. “But let’s be clear. Do you even know who you’re dealing with?” “What kind of person are you talking about?” I muttered, feeling speechless. Ms. Lytton clicked her tongue disapprovingly. “Look, I know both you and Sara are wives of the Clapham family’s sons. “But don’t you understand who holds more weight here? “Wealthy families have always favored sons, and let’s face it—your daughter has her own issues. “So, tell me, what makes you think you stand a chance here?” Her words were like a punch to the gut, leaving me nauseated. If I didn’t have Hughes’ every move under careful watch, I might have actually wondered if he’d really betrayed me. When I stayed silent, she took it as her cue to continue her “guidance.” “Honestly, the best thing you could do is let this go. “This is just kids playing around, right? He’s the Clapham heir. If he wants to roughhouse a little, who’s to stop him? “Just think it over carefully.” I finally snapped, my voice rising. “Tomorrow morning, I want a face-to-face meeting with Sara. “Please make it happen.” I hung up, heart pounding, a throbbing pain building in my temples as fury and disbelief washed over me.

Before going to bed, I decided to cut off Hughes’ credit card. Soon after, he called, sounding a bit cautious. “Honey, my card’s not working. I was just about to buy Evelina a gift.” I could barely contain my irritation. “Oh? So you’re using my money to keep another daughter on the side, and you even had a son?” There was a moment of confusion on the other end. “Honey, you’re accusing me of something here. What’s going on?” Still fuming, I filled him in on everything that happened today. He protested his innocence and assured me he’d booked a flight and would be home by tomorrow afternoon. That night, I slept beside my daughter. Her little cheeks were flushed, and her eyes were a bit swollen. The more I thought about Sara’s dismissive attitude, the more I couldn’t sleep. Early the next morning, the nanny came rushing in to tell me, “Evelina won’t put on her cochlear implant.” A pang of sadness struck me as I entered her room, where I found her quietly wiping away tears. When she saw me, she forced a smile. “Mommy!” I gently put the device on her. “Why aren’t you wearing it, sweetheart? Don’t you want to hear Mommy’s voice?” Evelina bit her lip and shook her head. “I’m afraid he’ll stomp on this new one, too.” It was clear that yesterday’s events had left her with an indelible scar. If I didn’t handle this properly, she’d be reminded of yesterday every time she wore her cochlear implant. I managed a small smile and gave her cheek a gentle squeeze. “Don’t worry. Today, Mommy’s going to school with you to make sure you’re okay.” After breakfast, I drove her to the kindergarten. As we entered, I noticed a few parents already gathered at the door. Ms. Lytton’s face darkened when she saw me. She came right over. “Isabel, Sara is here too. “I suggest you show some courtesy and apologize.” I brushed past her, holding my daughter close, and walked into the small crowd. I spotted Sara right away. Despite it being early autumn, she was already wrapped in a fur coat, with flashy gold jewelry hanging around her neck and wrists. She was basking in the attention of the other parents, her face beaming with pride. “Sara, your skin looks so flawless. How do you do it?” “Oh, that bracelet on your wrist must have cost quite a bit!” I walked up to them, cutting into the conversation with a cold tone. “So, you’re Murray’s mother, Sara Thomson? “Where’s your son? Are you planning to explain what he did to my daughter yesterday?” My words brought an instant chill to the atmosphere. The other women, who had been chatting away, turned their attention to me. To keep things professional, I was dressed in a tailored suit, and on my wrist was a simple watch with a Peppa Pig charm that Evelina loved. They looked me over from head to toe and finally gave me a disdainful smile. Sara crossed her arms and shot me a smug glance. “Oh, you actually had the nerve to come here?” I raised an eyebrow. “Your son was in the wrong. Why wouldn’t I come?” She laughed, waving me off dismissively, and then pointed at my daughter. “She’s just a disabled kid. My son bullied her, so what?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MyFiction” app 🔍 search for “397262”, and watch the full series ✨! #MyFiction #school