Author: Momo Chan

Three years after our wedding, my husband Caleb Reynolds forced me to accept an open marriage. He casually tossed out the idea, his voice light, almost joking. “I gave you the ring, the vows, all the commitments. But my body? That’s free. Don’t you want to live more excitingly this Christmas, see what else is out there?” He knew perfectly well I couldn’t do that. I have a condition—lactating despite never having children. It’s not something I can casually mention to strangers. Every time my breasts engorge, I’m miserable—not just embarrassed, but in pain. Without someone to relieve that pain, I completely fall apart. I flatly refused him. Caleb was unhappy. He stormed out, slamming the door so hard the walls shook. That night, the pain returned, sharp and merciless. My chest ached, I felt dizzy, barely able to think. Then I felt it—strong, warm hands, firmly placed on the soft curves of my waist. ***** Caleb’s palm struck my face hard, snapping my head to the side. The pain was hot and sharp, but I forced myself to look him in the eyes, tears welling up, stinging. “Caleb, I just want a normal marriage. Is that so wrong?” “Normal?” His gaze fell to my chest, his lips curling with contempt. “What’s normal about you?” As if on cue, my body betrayed me. A wet stain spread across my shirt, the rich scent of milk filling the air. I hurriedly covered my chest with my hands, my cheeks burning red, wishing I could disappear into the floor. “Why are you hiding it? You think I can’t tell you’re starting again?” Caleb’s sneer hit me like a punch to the stomach. He knew how shameful this was for me, this uninvited milk my deepest wound. His mother, Barbara Reynolds, spoke without hesitation, her voice full of venom. “If it weren’t for those wide hips of yours screaming ‘baby-maker,’ I would never have let Caleb marry you. Three years, and you can’t even produce a child.” She pointed at me, her words sharp. “Caleb is too good for you. We won’t let him waste his life being tied to you.” She grabbed his arm. “Come on, we’re going out to eat. I’ve arranged for you to meet several girls. You can pick one.” Caleb didn’t even look at me. He just followed her out, the door clicking shut behind him. I collapsed onto the floor, my heart as cold and hard as the tiles beneath me. It all started when I was barely out of my teens—milk leaking for no reason, no baby. Wherever I went, I could feel those stares, those whispers. I learned to wrap myself in layers, clothes upon clothes hiding my secret. When Caleb and I were dating, he discovered my secret by accident. His eyes lit up, not with disgust, but with something else—perhaps desire. “Serena,” he whispered, “I had no idea you were so… unique.” I curled against him in shame. “You don’t think I’m a freak?” He held me tight, so tight I could barely breathe. “A freak? This is a gift.” After that, he was obsessed with me. He showered me with affection, promised me the world. My body? He worshipped it, as if wanting to melt into me. But marriage changed him. As they say, people stop wanting what they have. My chest ached, not just from the memories, but from the pressure building inside. The milk was flowing faster now, soaking through my fingers. Panic rose in me. I stumbled to my feet, lurching into the bedroom, my heart racing wildly. In the past, when things got bad, Caleb would be there, helping relieve the pain. Now? I was alone, desperate. Trembling, I pulled out the small toy I kept hidden under my pillow, gritted my teeth, and positioned it, hoping to ease the pain. But it wasn’t enough. I felt my body’s heat growing even more intense, unbearable. I turned it to the highest setting, my body shaking until, exhausted, I passed out. In the haze between sleep and wakefulness, I felt hands—large and warm—sliding over my waist. The toy was yanked away, leaving emptiness and pain. “Caleb…” I murmured, pressing against his cool body. It slightly calmed the fire within me. He didn’t answer. His arm roughly pulled me closer, his breath hot against my chest, and he bit down, more roughly than ever before. It hurt, but God, I liked it. He was like a storm, releasing all his anger, working me over until dawn broke. When I woke up, Caleb was gone. The pain had disappeared too, leaving my mind clear, almost light. “Jerk,” I muttered, half-smiling. He was always like this—knocking me down, then bringing me back with moments like these. I climbed out of bed, cheeks flushed, picking up the scattered condoms from the floor and tossing them in the trash. I guess they’re right about arguments being the spark in a marriage. Last night, Caleb was… well, more than usual. Humming, I walked toward the kitchen to make him breakfast. But passing through the living room, I froze in my tracks. On the sofa sat three men, all strangers, each one completely different from the next, like day and night. I didn’t recognize any of them.

I looked around, searching for Caleb, but he was nowhere to be found. My stomach churned as uneasiness crept into my heart. The three men on the sofa stared at me in unison, their gazes heavy, as if I had wandered into a nest of vipers. I quickly tightened my robe, suddenly acutely aware of how thin the fabric was. This was probably just another batch of Caleb’s friends. He always loved bringing friends home without warning, making me play the dutiful hostess, running around like a maid. I cleared my throat and put on my well-practiced smile of a gentle wife. “Hey, can I get you—” Before I could finish, the front door was pushed open forcefully. Caleb strode in, his eyes narrowing when he saw me. He smoothly took off his jacket and draped it over my shoulders. “Serena, we have guests. Why are you wandering around practically naked?” My eyes caught the fresh scratch marks on his neck, and relief washed over me. Even though we had fought last night, he hadn’t left me alone. My heart softened, sweet as honey. I pulled his still-warm jacket tighter around me, my voice slightly teasing. “I thought it was just the two of us.” He simply pushed me toward the bedroom. “Go change into something decent.” I nodded, completely compliant, and slipped back to the bedroom to change. When I returned, the men were scattered on the sofa, drinking coffee and chatting like old friends. Caleb waved me over to sit beside him, directly facing the three men. He introduced them one by one, “Victor Harlan, a renowned lawyer. Samuel Trent, a doctor. And Leonard Finch—my college classmate I’ve mentioned before, he’s a professor.” I nodded politely in acknowledgment, remaining silent as they conversed. I mentally gave Caleb credit—these friends were clearly a cut above the rest. His previous friends were loud, filled the house with cigarette smoke, and bragged about things that never added up. These three seemed more sophisticated. I smiled to myself as I walked into the kitchen to prepare lunch. Just as I turned on the faucet, the door creaked open. Victor walked in uninvited. “Mr. Harlan, do you need something?” I asked, confused. He rolled up his sleeves, flashing a relaxed smile. “Can’t let you do all the work alone.” Before I could refuse, he took the vegetables from my hands and began washing them, his movements as practiced as if he owned the kitchen. He chopped with precision and confidence, like a professional chef. His controlling demeanor triggered a memory—last night, Caleb had been rough. After easing my pain, he wanted more, and when I begged him to stop, he pinned my legs down, each thrust harder than the last. My cries nearly shook the walls. I pleaded until he finally stopped… “Serena?” Victor’s voice pulled me back to reality, his hand waving in front of my face. I coughed, my cheeks burning as I stammered, “What is it?” “Your pot is about to burn.” I jumped, suddenly aware the stove was still on, and hurriedly poured oil into the pan. The oil sizzled, but I heard his soft laughter—gentle, almost intimate. My heart raced, and my face grew hotter. I shook my head, trying to focus on cooking, silently cursing myself for being so flustered. The men came in one by one to carry dishes to the table, with Caleb, as usual, sauntering in last and doing the least. Instead of apologizing, he grinned. “So, how do you think they’re doing?” I glared at him, annoyed at his laziness. “They’re great. Much better than you.” His laughter sent a chill down my spine, all teeth and no warmth. After lunch, the sky split open as torrential rain poured down. The weather forecast warned of thunderstorms for the next few hours. The men exchanged worried glances. Caleb, ever the king of the house, waved his hand dismissively. “The roads will be slippery. Serena, prepare the guest rooms. They’re staying tonight.”

I pressed my lips together, holding back a sigh. Caleb always put his friends before family. He knew perfectly well I was going through a sensitive period, when I’d rather hide away than deal with strangers. But my hints meant nothing to him. He patted the three men on their shoulders, grinning widely. “Order whatever you want, Serena will get fresh sheets ready for you.” I let out a small huff, resigned to playing the good wife role as I headed toward the guest room to prepare. The spare blankets were stacked on the top shelf, out of my reach. I climbed onto the bed, my legs slightly shaky—thanks to Caleb’s overzealous performance last night. I cursed under my breath, blaming him for my sore muscles. As I yanked down a blanket, my foot slipped. Before I could hit the floor, someone rushed in and caught me, strong arms steadying my body. Thinking it was Caleb, I complained without hesitation, “Oh, now you come to help? Were you waiting for me to break my neck?” After a moment of silence, a low chuckle came from behind me. “Hey, I’m helping now, aren’t I?” That wasn’t Caleb’s voice. I jerked back, my heart racing, to find Leonard standing there, grinning like a kid caught stealing cookies. I was mortified, realizing he’d heard every complaint. “I—I thought you were… I didn’t know it was you.” “Caleb, right? No worries, I don’t mind,” he laughed easily, waving away my embarrassment. His smile was bright and carefree, as if he never had a serious moment. It was hard to imagine him as a professor, lecturing in front of a class. I managed a terse “Good to know,” grabbing the blanket, eager to escape. My instincts told me we had nothing to talk about. But as I walked toward the guest room, I heard his footsteps following behind me. I gave him a questioning look. He shrugged. “They’re playing poker in the living room, getting pretty intense. I’m not much of a card shark. Thought I’d help you out.” I glanced toward the living room, seeing Caleb pulling out his worn limited-edition deck, laughing with Victor and Samuel like they were storming a battlefield. Irritation churned in my stomach, but with Leonard right there, I swallowed my anger to avoid embarrassing Caleb. Leonard proved surprisingly competent, focusing on making the bed with an attention to detail I hadn’t expected from him. He talked like a slacker but worked meticulously. I couldn’t help comparing him to Caleb and blurted out, “If Caleb were half as considerate as you, my life would be so much easier.” Without missing a beat, he responded, “Well, maybe you should trade him in for me then.” My eyes widened, and I laughed nervously. “Don’t joke like that. I’m Caleb’s wife.” I took it as a joke. I thought, “This must be guy humor, right? Friends don’t steal each other’s partners, and we just met. He can’t possibly be serious.” But as I busied myself with the sheets, I could feel his gaze, heavy and warm, drilling into my back. It didn’t feel like a joke. I froze, mumbled an excuse, and fled the room. I cornered Caleb in the bathroom, whispering, “You and Leonard—are you close?” He raised an eyebrow. “Why the sudden interest?” I hesitated, then forced myself to say, “He… he’s making passes at me!” Caleb burst out laughing, loud and unconcerned. My cheeks burned with embarrassment. “That’s a good thing,” he continued laughing. “Means you’re attractive.” His nonchalance stung. No jealousy, no concern—just that dismissive shrug. I suddenly remembered his advocacy for open marriage, and my heart sank. Of course he didn’t care. A guy like him who fooled around probably hoped I would too. Why would he worry about me cheating? Angry, I pushed him out of the bathroom. “Fine! Keep laughing and see how I make a joke out of you!” I collapsed onto the toilet, my thoughts in chaos. My body, the traitor, began responding to the emotional turmoil again. A soft moan escaped before I could stop it. “Caleb…” I bit my lip, hating how much I needed him. That’s why he had control over me—he always knew how to make me come back. The pain in my chest intensified, my shirt already soaked through. I couldn’t face him like this. I stripped off my clothes and turned the shower to cold, hoping the icy water would extinguish the heat inside me. It didn’t work. In desperation, I began touching myself, letting out a cry I was sure would be covered by the rain and water noise. No one would hear. Lost in the haze, I didn’t notice until a warm, solid body pressed against me from behind. I screamed, lunging forward, but the figure behind me held me tight, keeping me firmly in place. His rough hands made me tremble all over. No one else could touch me like that—it had to be Caleb. Still stinging from his earlier coldness, I muttered, “Stay away from me…” But my body had other ideas, leaning into him as if craving his warmth. He didn’t respond to my half-hearted protest, just brushed his lips against the back of my neck, igniting a heat that made my knees weak. If he hadn’t held me up, I would have collapsed to the floor. Perhaps because of our earlier argument, he was different tonight—gentle, almost careful. Each touch was light and teasing, but not enough to extinguish the fire raging inside me. I turned impatiently to face him. “Caleb, what’s going on? Can you just—” He gripped my chin, preventing me from seeing his face. I let out an impatient huff. “Caleb, stop playing games. Hurry up.” His hand froze. A cool chuckle brushed against my ear, then his kiss came like a storm, fierce and unyielding. The water had turned warm, and I couldn’t tell if the flush on my cheeks was from the steam or his touch. The pain in my chest subsided, replaced by a bone-deep satisfaction, even as my back pressed hard against the tiles. Exhausted, I collapsed into his arms. He carried me out of the bathroom, and I curled against him, suddenly shy knowing his friends were still in the house. Back in the bedroom, I dove under the covers like a nervous teenager, my cheeks burning. His low laughter filtered through the blanket, and I felt him kiss my forehead before quietly leaving. I peeked out; the rain outside was still tapping against the windows, but my heart felt lighter than it had in days. I drifted into a satisfied sleep. A clap of thunder jolted me awake. I reached for Caleb, but the bed was cold—he hadn’t returned. “What’s wrong?” his voice came from across the room, and I sighed with relief, turning to answer. But there he was, lounging casually in the armchair, phone pressed to his ear. He chuckled softly, warm and intimate. “Want me to come over and keep you company? Hmm?” My heart stopped, a jagged crack splitting it open. Whatever the person on the other end said made the corners of his eyes crinkle with amusement. He whispered a few sweet nothings, then said, “Wait for me, I’m on my way.” He grabbed his jacket and headed for the door without hesitation. I couldn’t help calling out, “Caleb!” He didn’t even pause, just walked straight out. The door clicked shut, followed by a deafening thunderclap, as if the sky itself was mocking me. Tears streamed down my face, hot and unstoppable. Seven years together—our first love, our everything. He used to love my quirks, my differences. Now he despised them. I’d been blaming myself, wondering if I should have given in to his ridiculous open marriage proposal. But now I understood. He had someone else, someone he’d drop everything for at just a phone call. His so-called “freedom” was just an excuse for his unfaithful heart. What had these seven years meant? A joke? The passionate days we’d just shared only made me feel more like a fool. I cried until my chest ached, until I could barely breathe, until sleep dragged me under once more. I didn’t hear the door open, but someone was there, their weight pressing down on me. Hands roughly grabbed my chest, making me wince. A small gasp escaped me, and the touch immediately softened. Fingers lifted my chin, and a possessive kiss stole my breath, making me dizzy until I forgot to resist. Then lightning split the sky, the white flash jolting me awake. Caleb—he had left. So who was this? I forced my eyes open, staring at the person above me, head lowered, still moving. My breath caught as my eyes widened in shock.

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For Memorial Day weekend, I booked flights to take my family to Hawaii. But my dad, Richard Bennett, had other ideas. He grabbed my phone, smashed it on the floor, and kicked me hard, knocking me down. Then he grabbed his belt and started whipping me. “You ungrateful parasite!” he roared as the belt struck my skin. “Do you know how much those tickets cost? When I was your age, I jumped freight trains looking for work and got my head cracked open by cops without making a sound!” I screamed, my body covered in welts and bruises. My mom, Catherine Bennett, didn’t lift a finger to help me. Instead, she took out her phone, recorded my pitiful state, and posted the video to our family’s “Happy Together” group chat. Catherine: [Kids these days only think about pleasure. Can’t handle any hardship. Always flying somewhere for fun.] The group chat exploded immediately. My mom’s brother Thomas Whitman: [My daughter works her ass off even with a 103-degree fever.] My mom’s sister Elaine Holloway: [My son spends summer hauling bricks at construction sites to build character.] My dad’s sister Monica Ramsey: [My daughter’s husband takes the whole family to the dump to sort recyclables. While your spoiled daughter is here wasting money on vacations!] They took turns attacking my “spoiled” lifestyle, boasting about how their children thrived through toughness and sacrifice. So the next day, I canceled the tickets. With my beaten, limping leg, I printed out a registration form for “Back-to-Basics Boot Camp” and handed it over with a smile. If they wanted hardship, I’d let them taste the “good old days.” But five days later, they were crying and begging me to pick them up. ***** I opened the “Back-to-Basics Boot Camp” website, reading the program details line by line, each sentence more gut-wrenching than the last. Wake up at 4 AM for physical labor, rationed coarse meals, communal barracks for sleeping, and physical punishment for rule violations. My cursor hovered over the “Ultimate Hardship Package” for a long time. Then I decisively clicked “Confirm.” At breakfast, I slid the printed registration form across the table to Richard and Catherine. “Dad, Mom, choosing Hawaii was wrong,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “You’re right, we should all experience real hardship together.” Catherine’s eyes lit up. She snatched the form, took a photo, and posted it to the family group chat with a message. [Sophie signed us up for a “Taste of Tough Times” boot camp! Who else wants to join? Register now!] Richard smoked his cigarette, flicking ashes onto the stovetop I had just cleaned. He quickly replied to the group. [Like I’ve always said, kids today need a wake-up call. I gave her a good beating yesterday, and now she finally respects her elders.] Relatives swarmed in, flooding the chat with messages. Elaine was first: [We’re barely making ends meet. My son works hauling bricks in summer for extra cash. We can’t afford fancy vacations.] Monica’s voice message dripped with sarcasm. “Must be nice having the time and money to play around. Some of us have real responsibilities.” Richard and Catherine’s egos inflated from the provocation. Richard puffed out his chest and announced, “Since everyone’s so eager, let’s rent a bus and make this a family event. Everyone can taste the hard life!” Catherine hastily agreed, nodding vigorously. “Exactly! And Sophie will foot the bill—it’s time she showed some gratitude!” My heart sank. With over twenty relatives in the group, the cost would easily reach five figures. “Mom, I don’t have that kind of money,” I said with a trembling voice. “You can’t just—”

I caught my breath. I had only intended for the older generation—those who constantly droned on about the “hard times”—to experience this. Dragging the entire family into it wasn’t part of the plan. I carefully replied in the group chat: [Everyone’s busy, right? Probably don’t have time for a trip.] But Richard wasn’t buying it. My attempt to dodge Thomas’s proposal had clearly angered him. “Don’t tell us how to raise our children,” he snapped. “This is a rare opportunity for all of you to learn some resilience. No one is allowed to miss it.” Catherine immediately chimed in: [Missing this would be an insult to the entire family!] I watched as likes popped up one after another in the chat, then silently turned off my phone. These stubborn old folks wouldn’t budge no matter what I said. Then Thomas called, excitement evident in his voice. His son Ethan Whitman had come home, and he wanted us to stop by his house for a gathering to discuss the details of the training camp. Richard agreed on the spot. Catherine yanked open my closet, and the musty smell of mothballs hit me in the face. For many Christmases, whenever I used my own salary to buy new clothes, she would scold me for “wasting money.” Once, she even tore apart all the clothes I had bought right in front of me to “teach me a lesson.” Now, my closet contained only worn-out secondhand clothes. I rummaged through and picked out the least tattered shirt. Catherine nodded with satisfaction. “Better to keep it simple. We don’t want your uncle thinking we’ve gone soft and forgotten our roots.” I held back a laugh. How amusing that they didn’t hesitate to spend my salary on renting a bus, but now they were all about “staying humble.” At Thomas’s house, a decoration reading “Hard Work, Perseverance” hung in the living room. My aunt Linda Whitman bustled about, setting up two distinctly different tables. The large round table was laden with steaks, roast chicken, and wine. The small square table was pushed to the side, with only a few hard dinner rolls and a plate of watery vegetables. I frowned, but Linda beamed at me. “Sophie, come try the ‘Taste of Tough Times’ meal I prepared for you and Ethan!” Before I could respond, Richard pushed me forward. “Go on, tell your uncle about this project you’ve arranged.” I rattled off the details in one breath: waking up at 4 AM for physical labor, rationed food, communal dormitories. Thomas slammed down his wine glass. “You call that hardship?” he roared. “Back in my day, I was shoveling manure at three in the morning!” His outburst startled Ethan, whose hand jerked, dropping his fork with a sharp clatter. Ethan had grown up under Thomas’s iron fist, either being yelled at or beaten, constantly indoctrinated with the “Spare the rod, spoil the child” philosophy. The guy was terrified of his father. After a few bites, Ethan put down his utensils and muttered, “I have exams next week, might need to study…” Thomas smashed his plate to the floor, shattering it. “You want to sneak off while your elders are still eating? Sit back down!” Ethan shrank back into his chair, lowering his head. After dinner, I was assigned to wash the dishes. Ethan slipped into the kitchen, complaining in a low voice, “Sophie, what the hell? This training camp was your lousy idea, and now we’re all being dragged into it.” I remembered what my cousin Clara Whitman had told me. She had tried reasoning with Thomas, saying times had changed and there was no need to make children relive past hardships. But Thomas wouldn’t listen. He was determined to force Ethan—a kid preparing for his SATs—to “experience the struggles of our generation.” I turned on the faucet, letting the water noise cover our conversation, and pulled out my phone. I opened the “Ultimate Hardship Package” page and grinned. “You don’t want to go, right? They think it’s not tough enough? Well, I have a plan…” Ethan glanced at the training camp description. His expression shifted from fear to disbelief, finally settling on a strange, almost excited look. That night, I sent a message to the family group chat: [Due to high demand, the bus is fully booked. To ensure the elders get the full experience, I’ll lead the younger generation in a separate free hardship program. We’ll go our separate ways and meet at the destination after five days.]

The family group chat erupted with complaints from the elders. Thomas shouted the loudest: “Separate? No way! You kids need someone watching you, otherwise you’ll just slack off and fool around!” Richard glared at me, his voice low and suspicious: “What scheme are you cooking up now?” I was prepared and replied calmly. “The boot camp heard that the elders wanted an authentic nostalgia trip, so they upgraded it to the ‘Silver Years Special’ package. A five-stop journey, going back in time from the 90s Christmas era all the way to the 50s Christmas era. You’re practically going to time travel.” The group chat exploded instantly. Monica couldn’t contain herself: “I’m going to wear overalls and a headscarf—perfect for Instagram photos!” Thomas chimed in: “Sophie, keep an eye on those little troublemakers, and don’t forget to send video updates!” Watching the conversation shift, I smiled slightly and typed: “No problem.” On Memorial Day, the whole family met at the gathering point, dragging enough luggage to sink a ship. “Sophie!” Catherine yelled at me while hauling an enormous suitcase. “Come help! These are all essentials!” I glanced at the suitcase. Thermos bottles, bags of snacks, and even a portable massager. I held back my laughter. Bring whatever you want—it’ll all be confiscated soon anyway. After confirming everyone had arrived, a dilapidated bus puttered up. The paint was peeling, and faded “Hard Work, Perseverance” stickers covered the windows. Richard wrinkled his nose. “What kind of junk is this? No air conditioning?” I shrugged. “Dad, this is all my salary can afford.” He scoffed. “Then you should get a second job. What’s a little hardship in your Christmas generation?” I didn’t bother responding. Since I started working, more than half my monthly salary went to my family. The rest, I saved bit by bit. After everyone boarded, I approached Dale Ward, the boot camp coordinator. “My relatives are here to suffer. Please give them the VIP treatment.” Dale gave me a knowing smile. “Don’t worry, our ‘Taste of Tough Times’ travel agency specializes in this.” The door slammed shut. I stood outside, waving with a bright smile. “Have fun!” As the bus rumbled away, I took out my phone and opened the “Back-to-Basics Boot Camp” livestream. On screen, Dale was rallying the group through a loudspeaker. “Everyone, our first stop is a 90s-era bar to relive the good old days!” Upon arrival, Dale led them into a campsite decorated with flickering lights, yellowed boy band posters, and a clunky rotary jukebox. The elders went wild. “The 90s were the best!” Richard shouted, grabbing the microphone. “I was busy with business then, hitting the bars every night!” He belted out an off-key grunge rock song, his voice hoarse but refusing to stop. Thomas climbed onto a coffee table, attempting to dance disco, nearly splitting his pants. Catherine stared at her phone, posting dozens of Instagram stories: “This is real nostalgia!” The livestream comment section exploded. “This doesn’t look like a boot camp, it’s an old folks’ rave!” “Uncle Thomas is dancing like he’s being electrocuted, his pants are about to burst!” “‘Hard Work, Perseverance’? More like ‘1999 Party Madness’!” I chuckled, typing in the comments: “Just wait, the real show is coming.” Three hours later, Dale led them to a dilapidated farmyard. Faded slogans covered the crumbling mud walls, with rusty pitchforks piled in the corner. Dale’s voice changed, becoming stern. “Alright, everyone, the real lesson begins now. Hand over all your personal belongings—immediately!” Catherine was the first to break down, clutching her suitcase like a lifeline. “Impossible! I need these things!” Dale stood in the center of the farm, expressionlessly pointing at her snacks and massager. “These are decadent luxuries! Sugar-coated traps!” Richard reluctantly removed his watch, muttering, “It’s just a watch, why make such a big deal?” I stared at the livestream, holding back laughter. Richard actually said “just a watch.” When I once saved up for a basic calculator, he called me a hopeless idiot who would never amount to anything. “Richard! Step forward!” Dale’s voice cracked like a whip. “That attitude is the worst form of self-indulgence! Run ten laps around the yard—now!” Richard’s face froze. Under everyone’s gaze, he had no choice but to start jogging, his pride trailing behind him. Finally, all their phones, backpacks, and suitcases were confiscated. The staff even found the lighter Richard had hidden in his sock. Dale’s voice was ice-cold. “From now on, call me Mr. Ward. You will complete all five stations—no one gets to quit halfway. Those are the rules.” I sprawled across the leather couch in the living room—the one I was never allowed to touch—and propped up my tablet to watch the livestream. The comment section was exploding. [These folks love bragging about resilience, but when they actually face hardship, they all want to run.] [This is just the beginning. They’re complaining about losing their stuff, wait until things get really tough.] I stretched lazily, enjoying the rare opportunity to hog the couch. In the livestream, Dale waved a metal megaphone. “Work assignments! Men shovel manure, women take hoes to the field!” Thomas stared at the manure bucket, his face turning green. “I’m a retired executive of a global company!” Dale handed him the bucket. “Executives lead by example. Ten buckets before you eat.” Once they all went to work, I hummed a tune while raiding the refrigerator. Richard and Catherine’s stockpile of gourmet fruit? All mine now. I filled a plate with strawberries and wandered over to Catherine’s vanity, sampling her high-end creams one by one. My phone buzzed. Ethan messaged: [Sophie! Quick—they’re about to eat!] The livestream cut to the cafeteria. The elders lined up with metal trays, receiving portions of coarse bread and watery vegetables. Linda gagged after one bite. “This stuff? Even pigs wouldn’t eat it!” Dale slammed the table. “Wasting food? People starved to death in the 60s!” Linda argued, “But we’re experiencing the 90s! Why bring up the 60s?” Dale smirked. “The decade doesn’t matter. You’re here to taste hardship. Complain again and you’ll skip dinner.” The comment section exploded: [This isn’t a training camp, it’s a labor reform school!] [Hypocrisy alert! They call kids spoiled, but they can’t even swallow a piece of bread!] [Oh, now you care about “decades”? Then stop forcing your outdated lectures on others!] The elders sat with mud-stained faces, glumly gnawing on dry bread. Catherine muttered, “The spinning wheel gave me bloody blisters. Even textile factories aren’t this cruel.” Richard sighed, “Eating this stuff? How are we supposed to have energy to work? I paid good money to come here, surely there must be real food.” Catherine’s eyes lit up. “What do you have in mind?” I drifted to the liquor cabinet and took out Richard’s treasured whiskey—once when I accidentally knocked it over, he made me kneel for three hours as punishment. I raised the bottle toward the livestream with a grin. “To my dear elders. I’ll drink first. You enjoy your ‘fun’ at your leisure.” That night, I sank into the bathtub after pouring in half a bag of Catherine’s luxury bath salts. While soaking, my phone suddenly rang. I answered, puzzled. Richard’s voice came through, trembling and tearful. “Sophie, I was wrong. No more fake hardship, please. Come get us, or I’m finished!”

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My best friend Chloe Carter was dead set on taking a road trip to Colorado during Memorial Day weekend. I was hesitant. As a woman three months pregnant, the idea of sitting in a car for hours didn’t exactly sound “fun” to me. I tried to politely decline, but my husband Harland Jackson wouldn’t let it go. “Come on, Andrea, don’t be a killjoy,” he snapped, his tone clearly annoyed. “Chloe went through all this trouble planning the trip. You have to go.” Before I could protest, he was already throwing our luggage into the trunk, and by nightfall, we were on the road. Things quickly went south. Chloe swore she knew the way, but ended up getting us lost somewhere off the highway. We eventually found ourselves deep in the Rocky Mountains, in an area completely deserted. The night was pitch black and bitterly cold, the kind of cold that seeps into your soul. Then we heard it—wolves howling. A pack of hungry wolves surrounded our car, their eyes gleaming in the headlights. Our food and water were running low, but Harland suddenly yanked the door open, trying to push me out of the car. “Andrea, you need to buy us some time,” his voice as cold as the night air. “We’ll go find help and come back for you. I promise.” I clung desperately to the door frame, begging, crying, “Harland, please, don’t!” But Chloe—my best friend—didn’t offer a helping hand. Instead, she grabbed a knife, slashed the back of my hand, and kicked me out of the car. I hit the ground hard, pain shooting through my body as she leaned out and said venomously, “Come on, Andrea, we’re friends, right? What’s a little sacrifice to save the rest of us?” The wolves were on me within seconds, tearing at my clothes, my skin. The worst was when one wolf clawed at my belly, and I felt my baby inside becoming their meal. In the distance, I heard the car engine roar as Harland and Chloe sped away. Chloe’s laughter echoed through the darkness, cruel and triumphant. “Pregnant women’s blood really does smell sweeter!” Then, darkness. When I snapped my eyes open, I was back in our living room. Chloe was sprawled lazily across the couch, her voice full of excitement. “So, Memorial Day—Colorado, here we come! The Rockies will be gorgeous, and we can hit the Denver Art Museum while we’re at it. Perfect!” She nudged me with her elbow, that playful jab making me stumble slightly. My heart jumped, a chill running down my spine. I suddenly realized I’d been reborn. I’d been given another chance to face that terrible day. I remained silent while Chloe worked her charm on my husband Harland. Her voice took on that sweet, wheedling tone she always used when she wanted to get her way. “Come on, Harland, you and Andrea have to say yes. It’s just a small favor—don’t tell me you’re going to disappoint me…” Harland frowned, clearly reluctant. “Memorial Day weekend is going to be packed everywhere, traffic will be a nightmare.” Chloe grinned smugly. “Don’t worry, I’ve got it all planned out. We’ll take the back roads, drive at night—nobody will be out slowing us down.” Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. A sickening sense of déjà vu washed over me. The last time—my previous life—it had started just like this. Chloe suggesting a road trip to Colorado. Me trying to politely decline. Harland not listening and dragging me into the car. Then Chloe’s “shortcut” getting us lost in the wilderness of the Rocky Mountains.

I stared at the insurance policy in my hand, my mind spinning. Chloe’s Colorado road trip wasn’t a spontaneous idea at all. The detour into the uninhabited area of the Rockies, the wolf pack—all of it had been planned. If I hadn’t been given this second chance at life, I would have fallen right into their trap. I clutched the paper tightly, rage nearly consuming me. My best friend. My husband. The two people closest to me had conspired to kill me. My phone vibrated, pulling me from the whirlpool of my thoughts. It was Harland’s mother, Evelyn. I took a deep breath and answered. Evelyn’s booming voice exploded through the speaker. “Andrea, I’m bringing over some homemade corn chowder tomorrow—got to keep my grandson healthy!” She paused, adding with a sneer, “If you weren’t carrying Harland’s child, you wouldn’t even deserve this soup.” Her words triggered memories from my previous life. At this exact moment, she had called then too, while Harland was packing my luggage. He had snatched my phone, desperately trying to keep his parents away. Evelyn might have no affection for me, but she adored Harland as if he could do no wrong. And after my death? Those two, who had lived frugally their entire lives, suddenly started living luxuriously. My insurance payout must have funded their golden years. I swallowed my hatred and feigned a heavy tone, pretending reluctance as I said, “Thanks, Evelyn, but Harland is taking me to Colorado tomorrow. Looks like I’ll miss your corn chowder.” As expected, Evelyn’s pitch rose by several octaves. “Colorado? And he’s not taking me and Alfred? What’s going on?” I deliberately let a hint of complaint enter my voice. “I don’t know either, Evelyn. Maybe Harland thinks bringing you would be too much trouble. Oh, I need to pack—talk later!” I hung up before she could respond. Knowing Evelyn and her need to be the center of attention, she would never allow Harland to leave her behind. Step one, complete. I took photos of the insurance policy, then headed straight to a law firm to start divorce proceedings. The lawyer, Daniel Chambers, carefully examined the insurance policy and the hotel receipts for the “Couples’ Suite,” then looked at me cautiously. “Ms. Smith, if you want to leave your husband with nothing—or behind bars—this evidence isn’t enough.” I clenched my jaw, frustration washing over me. He leaned forward, lowering his voice, “Listen, you say they’re planning to stage an accident. If you’re right, go on this trip. Keep your eyes open, collect evidence—anything that proves their intentions.” My grip on my phone tightened. It seemed the road trip was back on. I had no choice. Half an hour later, I walked into my house and froze. Harland was in the living room, throwing my clothes into a suitcase. “What are you doing?” I asked, my voice sharp. He didn’t even look up, his tone impatient. “I talked with Chloe, and we’re leaving first thing tomorrow. Don’t think being pregnant lets you throw tantrums.” I was about to explode when the front door suddenly swung open. Harland and I both turned to look. Evelyn and Harland’s father Alfred stood in the doorway, arms loaded with bags. Evelyn shot me a venomous glare, then began to wail dramatically, “Harland, you ungrateful boy! You forget your poor mother the moment you get a wife! Such a luxurious trip, and you didn’t even tell us?” Harland’s eyes widened, panic flashing across his face. “Mom, how did you find out about this?” Her face darkened, taking his question as proof of his deliberate secrecy. She collapsed dramatically onto the floor, crying so loudly the neighbors could probably hear. “I raised you, gave you my heart, and now all you care about is your wife! What’s the point of me even being alive?” Harland’s frown deepened, his shoulders tensing. I watched the scene unfold, a cold smile forming inside me. I stepped forward, affectionately linking my arm with Harland’s, my voice sweet as honey. “Harland, if Alfred and Evelyn want to come, why not let them join us? Make it a family trip.” I paused, then added, “And if they’re going, I’m coming too.”

Harland shot me a shocked look, but before he could speak, Evelyn got up from the floor and shoved me rudely. “Go pack your things,” she snapped, “don’t make my son do all the work.” The situation had completely spiraled out of control, and Harland had no choice but to comply. I took the suitcase from his hands and, while no one was looking, slipped a new backup phone into a hidden pocket. The next morning, Chloe arrived. Her eyes widened when she saw Alfred and Evelyn, but she quickly recovered, flashing her sweetest smile. “Mr. Jackson! Mrs. Jackson! How wonderful to see you!” Chloe had grown up in the same small town as Harland, so his parents were no strangers to her. Truthfully, Alfred and Evelyn had always preferred her over me. Evelyn’s face brightened. “Chloe, you’re so thoughtful to invite us on this trip.” She shot me a sideways glare. “Unlike some people—spoiled city girls who only think about themselves.” Chloe giggled behind her hand, her eyes gleaming with triumph when she glanced my way. “You’re too kind, Mrs. Jackson.” After the luggage was loaded, Chloe slid into the front passenger seat like she owned it. “Andrea, you’re pregnant—it’s safer for you in the back,” she said with fake concern in her voice. Harland nodded. “Chloe’s right.” I didn’t bother arguing. These two weren’t even pretending anymore, openly flaunting their game. We hit the road to Colorado, and I stared out the window at scenery identical to my previous life, down to the last tree. Anger, fear, and determination churned inside me. For days, Alfred and Evelyn, those penny-pinching misers, insisted we sleep at rest stops to save money. When I dared to complain, Evelyn whipped around, her face crumpling into a scowl, “What, you think you’re too good for this? My precious grandson isn’t complaining, but you want the red carpet treatment?” Evelyn, that iron-willed country woman, gripped like a vise when angry. Harland pulled me close and whispered, “Just bear with it, Andrea. You can rest when we get to Colorado.” I nearly laughed out loud. Rest? If I didn’t outsmart them, I wouldn’t live to see Colorado. The day arrived—the day I died in my previous life. At eight in the morning, my phone map showed we were just sixty miles from that damned wilderness edge. My heart racing, I pulled out my backup phone from my bag, clutched my stomach, and let out a gut-wrenching wail. “Oh God—my stomach! It hurts so bad!” I doubled over, my face pale, moaning in agony as if in extreme pain. Harland slammed on the brakes. “What the hell, Andrea? Can’t you just tough it out?” Tears streamed down my face as I sobbed, “Harland, what if the bumpy road did something to the baby? I don’t care about myself, but this is the Jackson family heir!” Evelyn’s eyes widened in panic. “Harland, find somewhere for her to rest, now!” Alfred chimed in, his voice tense, “I saw a clinic a few miles back. Take her there.” Harland stared at me, sweat beading on his forehead, but he didn’t seem suspicious. At the clinic, the doctor shook his head after examining me. “She’s exhausted. She needs rest and observation, or she might miscarry.” Harland frowned. “Can’t you just give her some medicine? We have a trip to continue.” The doctor’s face darkened. “This is about a pregnant woman’s health. She must stay, or you’re gambling with her life and the baby’s.” I put on a guilty expression. “Harland, you all go ahead. I’ll join you after I’ve rested. Alfred and Evelyn should enjoy their trip—don’t let me ruin it.” Evelyn waved impatiently. “She’s right, Harland. Let’s go to our destination. She can rent a car and catch up. The place is huge—she won’t get lost.” Harland hesitated, clearly uncomfortable with the plan going off track. Before he could argue, I shoved my regular phone into his hand. “Here, Harland, take my phone, take my things, take everything. You know I’ll wait for you. Okay?” With Alfred and Evelyn nagging him to hurry up, Harland had no choice. He grabbed the phone, climbed into the car, and paused to call out, “I’ll come get you tomorrow.” I nodded, playing the dutiful wife. As their car disappeared down the road, a wave of relief washed over me. I wouldn’t be waiting until tomorrow. I pulled out my backup phone and made a call. “Hello, I’m at the clinic on Highway 287. Could you send a car to take me to the airport?” I didn’t look back. I caught the earliest flight and landed in my hometown at nine that evening. The taxi weaved through familiar streets as my stomach churned with anxiety. Years ago, during college, Chloe burst into my quiet life, insisting it needed shaking up. She was the one who introduced me to Harland. He was exactly my type—charming, handsome, the complete package. We dated for years, got engaged, and planned our life together. But my parents, Richard and Claire, didn’t approve. As their only daughter, they didn’t want me marrying a small-town man with no prospects. I was stubborn, though. I had a huge fight with them, stormed out, and barely contacted them after the wedding. Until my previous life—until my own death—I never realized they had seen through Harland from the beginning. When I knocked on their door, Richard and Claire were first shocked to see me standing there, then their faces lit up with joy. Their hair was grayer than I remembered, their faces etched with the passage of time. My throat tightened as I choked out, “Mom, Dad, I’m back.” Richard looked over my shoulder, noticing I was alone, and his expression darkened. “Andrea, where’s Harland?” I hesitated, not wanting to shock them too much. “He cheated,” I said softly. “I’m divorcing him. And… I’m terminating the pregnancy.” Richard’s face turned terrifyingly dark. “That bastard—” Claire’s eyes welled with tears, but she gripped my hand firmly, her tone resolute. “We’re here for you, baby. Whatever you need.” Tears spilled down my cheeks as I collapsed into their arms, sobbing uncontrollably. Two lifetimes of pain and betrayal poured out. I had expected anger toward me, or an “I told you so,” but all they gave me was love. The next morning, Richard and Claire took me to the hospital to arrange the procedure. When I emerged from the operating room, I was as pale as paper. I placed my hand on my now-flat stomach, feeling a hollow ache in my chest. “Find a better home, little one,” I whispered, fighting back sobs. Claire wiped away my tears, her voice gentle but firm. “What are you going to do next?” I clenched my fists. “I’m contacting a lawyer. I’m cutting Harland out of my life completely.” I didn’t know if Harland could make it back from the Rockies, but I couldn’t take chances. I had to act fast. Back home, I contacted my lawyer, Daniel, and sent him the evidence I’d collected. “Is this enough to leave Harland with nothing?” I asked. During each night of our road trip, I’d barely slept, constantly on edge, but it had paid off. I’d photographed Harland and Chloe sneaking off to rest stop bathrooms together. The night before last, while Harland was dead asleep, I went through his phone. The evidence was right there: text messages plotting to get rid of me, and photos of them embracing intimately. After reviewing everything, Daniel said without hesitation, “This is enough not only to leave him with nothing, but to send him to prison.” A wave of relief washed over me, like a beam of light piercing through the fog that had surrounded me for so long. When Richard and Claire saw the evidence, they were beyond furious. “Sue those bastards into oblivion!” Richard roared. “Those scumbags tried to hurt our daughter!” I was about to calm them down when my phone rang. I answered, and a deep, serious voice came through. “Ma’am, this is the Rocky Mountain Regional Police Department. We have an emergency. Your husband and his companion were attacked by wolves in a remote area and are in critical condition. Please come as soon as possible…”

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When my husband Patrick Hastings was having dinner with several colleagues, his childhood friend Hazel Walker, who had just returned to town, fell into his arms in a drunken state. “Patrick, you’ve done so well for yourself. If I hadn’t joined that rural volunteer program back then, I would be your wife now!” Seeing my face darken, she suddenly let out a flirtatious laugh. “What? Don’t tell me Olivia doesn’t know about the Christmases we spent together?” “Patrick, you’re so frustrating. Do you think I’m not good enough, or have you been in love with me all these Christmases?” I smiled and asked, “You just got divorced and you’re already looking for a man. Why don’t we get divorced, and then you two can discuss this in bed?” ***** Everyone in the living room laughed teasingly, “Wow, Mr. Hastings, you’ve got quite a past, haven’t you?” I walked out of the kitchen and slammed the porcelain plate down hard on the wooden table. Patrick immediately pushed Hazel away, looking nervous. “Hazel’s upset about her divorce. Try to understand her. Don’t be angry.” She wasn’t bothered at all and gently punched his chest. “It’s the truth. If we hadn’t broken up, our children would be in elementary school by now.” “Divorce isn’t a big deal. I’m not like those women who revolve around men.” Patrick completely missed her hint. “Make a couple more dishes. Fry an egg for Hazel too.” Looking at all the dishes we couldn’t even afford to eat at Christmas, I remained silent with a cold expression. Suddenly the landline rang. I wiped my hands and answered. An anxious voice came from the other end. “Mrs. Hastings, your daughter has a high fever. Come quickly!” I untied my apron and went to pull Patrick. “Come with me to pick up Ellie from kindergarten. She has a fever and needs an IV!” Hazel was displeased and grabbed his sleeve. “A fever isn’t a serious illness. Once Ellie sweats it out, she’ll be fine. That’s how country kids get through it. Olivia’s raising her to be too delicate, which isn’t good.” “Patrick, we rarely get together like this. If you leave, we won’t feel comfortable staying here.” Seeing Patrick not moving at all, I became angry. “Patrick, is your lover more important than your daughter? She—” He frowned and interrupted me, “Can you not speak so harshly? She’s not my lover.” “Hazel suffered a lot when she joined the rural volunteer program. Now she’s divorced too. What’s wrong with me taking care of her?” Hazel came to grab my arm. “Olivia, don’t be angry. We spent many Christmases together before, but our relationship isn’t inappropriate now.” In my anger, I shook her off and asked Patrick, “Are you coming or not?” Hazel stumbled and fell to the ground, knocking over the wine on the table. The wine flowed down her fashionable dress, revealing her red bra. She looked quite disheveled. But my faded, patched work clothes looked even more ridiculous. Patrick helped Hazel up, very angry. “Olivia, apologize to her!” Soaking wet, she blushed shyly and grabbed his hand, pressing it against her body. “Help me wipe it off. This is the dress you just bought for me!” He actually bent down to help her clean up. I laughed bitterly. “Patrick, your friend just got divorced and is throwing herself at you, and you’re willing to take care of her.” “Why don’t we get divorced, so you two can get in bed and talk about love?” I didn’t look at them again and walked out. Realizing his behavior was inappropriate, Patrick dropped the towel and followed me out. Hazel suddenly called from inside our house, “Patrick, my stomach hurts badly. Do you still have those pills you gave me last time?” Standing at the doorway, I watched Patrick go back, frantically searching through the cabinets. Those pills were ones he had stood in line all night to buy. I had always treasured them, never wanting to use them. Under the bicycle shed, I gritted my teeth as I unlocked my bike. At some point, it started raining, and the raindrops flowed down my face, making me feel cold and bitter. Patrick ran out, grabbing the handlebar with one hand and reaching for the key with the other. “Olivia, give me the bicycle. I need to take Hazel back to her dormitory.” The wind swept across my cheeks, making them sting, numbing the dull pain in my heart. I firmly held onto the bicycle seat. “Ellie has a fever of 102 degrees. Is she less precious to you than Hazel?” Patrick roared, “Stop being unreasonable! How serious can a fever be? Hazel is all alone. What if something happens to her?” He yanked the bicycle away and straddled the seat. I was pulled forward and fell into the mud. Hazel ran out, skillfully sitting sideways on the back of the bicycle, her arms wrapped around his waist. He pedaled hard, quickly disappearing into the rain.

I limped to the kindergarten to find my daughter, Ellie Hastings, standing under the eaves. Her little face was flushed red with fever. I couldn’t help but cry. I wrapped her in my arms and ran outside, shielding her from the rain with my clothes. The hospital was a mile away from the factory. Even cycling would take twenty minutes. Now my knee was in excruciating pain, and my water-soaked canvas shoes felt as heavy as if they were filled with lead. I persisted halfway there, but suddenly Ellie began to convulse. Terrified, I ignored the danger and rushed into the middle of the road to flag down a pickup truck. The kind driver then went out of his way to take us to the hospital. The doctor on duty quickly gave Ellie an injection to reduce her fever and started an IV. He looked reproachfully at my soaked clothes. “If you’d brought her in any later, she would have developed pneumonia. Where’s her father? Why isn’t he here?” I shook my head, not wanting to say more. He sighed and took out a clean set of hospital clothes from the cabinet for me. “Change into these, or you’ll get sick too.” Ellie’s fever subsided a bit. She struggled to open her eyes and, holding my hand, asked, “Mom, does Dad not want me anymore?” My hand trembled. Then, noticing the sympathetic glance from the woman in the next bed, I quickly said, “Of course not. Your dad is busy at the factory. I’m here with you.” She was clearly disappointed, but she nodded and forced a smile. “Ellie, you need to finish your IV quickly. Your dad promised to take you to buy a new pencil case after school.” These past two Christmases, our lives had improved somewhat, but when Ellie was born, we were going through our most difficult time. That’s why she’s been so heartbreakingly mature from a young age. I’ve never deliberately deceived her because of her young age. But about everything that happened today, I could only keep her in the dark. I looked at the bag sewn from old clothes nearby and felt sad. “I can buy it for you too, Ellie.” Tears welled up in her eyes, but she stubbornly tilted her head up. “Mom, but it’s always just you picking me up. The other kids say I’m a child without a father.” I was stunned. Ellie had never told me this before. “Ellie, I’ll do whatever you want. Your dad and I will pick you up together from now on.” I felt even more bitter, but I could only agree for now. After Ellie happily fell into a deep sleep, a nurse handed me a bill. “Please go pay this.” I searched all my pockets, but I usually spent all my money on necessities. Now I had less than ten dollars. This was money I’d saved for two months to buy Ellie a new backpack. The nurse noticed my predicament and sighed, “You can owe it for now. Just remember to pay tomorrow.” The rain was easing up. I leaned against the bed, my heart as heavy as a stone. When Ellie woke up, I was gently patting her back when I suddenly noticed a bruise on her lower back. “How did you get hurt?” Unexpectedly, she burst into tears. “Angela pushed me into the toy cabinet and called me a bastard. But the teacher didn’t see it, so I was afraid to say anything.” I was furious. Ellie’s school was specifically for factory workers’ children. Everyone knew each other well. I couldn’t understand how she could still be bullied. After further questioning, I learned that a new child named Angela Walker had joined her class and was always bullying Ellie under the guise of playing. I borrowed the hospital’s phone to call the kindergarten principal. The principal’s surprised voice came through. “Mrs. Hastings, children roughhousing is normal. Besides, isn’t Angela your relative?” “What relative?” “Angela was admitted with a recommendation letter from Mr. Hastings! He said she was his cousin’s child.” My hand holding the phone trembled, and my ears started ringing. When I returned to the hospital room, Ellie timidly tugged at my clothes. “Mom? Did I say something wrong?” Suppressing my anger, I knelt down. “No. Tell me, what else did she say?” “She said she would soon move into our house and told me to treat her like my sister.” The next second, the hospital room door was suddenly pushed open. I whipped around to see Hazel leading a little girl in red shoes into the room. “Angela, why are you running off?” she pretended to scold Angela. When she looked up and saw me, she smiled slightly, “Hey, Olivia, you’re still here.” Angela broke free from her hand and rushed over to yank on Ellie’s IV tube. “You’re a faker pretending to be sick!” I pushed her away and held Ellie protectively in my arms. Then I saw Patrick hurriedly entering with a lunch box. “Daddy!” Two childish voices rang out simultaneously.

Ellie shrank in my arms, timidly looking at Patrick as he bent down to pick up Angela. He affectionately kissed her cheek and pulled out a handful of milk candies from his bag. “It’s okay, Angela. I’m here.” The expensive candies that Ellie only got one or two of at Christmas, Patrick generously gave to someone else’s child. Only then did he notice Ellie on the hospital bed, fishing out two hard candies from another pocket. “Here, Ellie, for you.” Just as she happily reached for them, Angela pouted and tried to snatch them, losing her balance in the process. Patrick quickly steadied Angela, letting the two candies fall to the floor, now covered in dust. I couldn’t help but shout, “Patrick, you don’t care about your own daughter, but you’re playing father to someone else’s child.” Hazel responded defensively, “Olivia, that’s a terrible thing to say. Angela lost her father, that’s why she sees Patrick as her dad.” Patrick looked uncomfortable. “That’s right, Olivia. Just let Angela call me dad. I’ll explain this to you later…” “Explain what? How you secretly deliver eggs and milk powder to her every month? Or how you gave her Ellie’s elementary school recommendation letter?” Patrick lost his temper too. “Olivia! Do you have to say all this in front of the children?!” Angela seized the opportunity to run over and yank the IV needle out of Ellie’s hand. “You’re nothing but trouble!” Blood flowed onto Ellie’s bed. She gasped in pain but bit her lip to keep from crying out. I grabbed Angela’s arm, but she immediately started fake crying. “Daddy! She hit me!” Patrick rushed over and shoved me hard. “Have you lost your mind? How dare you hit Angela?” I stumbled back against the wall, my back burning with pain. The nurse who rushed in hurried to stop Ellie’s bleeding, while Patrick held Angela, comforting her softly. Just then, a doctor’s voice called from outside. “Where are Hazel’s family members? Please come to the registration desk immediately!” “Coming!” Patrick quickly disappeared down the hallway. I closed my eyes, a self-mocking smile crossing my face. Ellie’s fever came and went. We stayed in the hospital for three days. During that time, Patrick only visited once. He dropped off some fruit and left without even touching her hand. When I asked about the expenses, I was told the hospital fees had already been paid in full. On the fourth morning, the doctor finally agreed to discharge Ellie. I had barely walked through the front door with her when we ran into Hazel. “Olivia, you’re back. Patrick said there’s a spare room, so we’re staying here for now. Please clean it up.” I looked toward that room and felt instantly furious. Ellie’s small wooden bed was broken apart. Her only doll was nothing but scattered cotton stuffing, and her treasured comic books were torn to shreds. The fabric I’d saved for by working overtime, which I’d made into a birthday dress for her, was now being worn by Angela. Ellie was sobbing uncontrollably. She broke free from my grip and rushed into the room. Hazel, leaning against the doorframe, suddenly stuck out her leg, deliberately tripping her. I dove forward to protect Ellie. My arm slammed into the cabinet, cutting a jagged wound. Patrick came over when he heard the commotion. By then, Angela was sitting on the floor wailing, and Ellie was also in tears. “Why do you start trouble as soon as you get back?” “Olivia, Patrick bought us lots of new clothes. She doesn’t need this one. She just wanted to try it on.” Patrick frowned, looking displeased. “Ellie, be good. Give the dress to Angela.” Hazel and Angela, dressed in their fine clothes, couldn’t hide their smugness. I pushed myself up from the floor, blood dripping from my fingertips. “I’ll get out of here!” I waited for Patrick to say something, but saw Angela glaring at us viciously. The next second, she vindictively pushed Ellie. Ellie’s forehead slammed hard against the corner of the coffee table. The glass panel cracked, and blood covered half her face. “Angela!” I shook with anger, raising my hand to slap her. Patrick grabbed my wrist tightly, shouting tiredly, “Olivia, haven’t you caused enough trouble?” I asked in disbelief, “Patrick, are you blind? She pushed Ellie!” “It’s all my fault for being so unlikable. You can hit or scold me. Angela is just a child. Don’t slander her!” Suddenly, Hazel collapsed in front of me, grabbing a fruit knife and cutting her own hand. “Olivia, I apologize to you!” As Patrick stopped her, he completely lost his patience and coldly said to me, “Will you only be satisfied when someone dies? Angela is only five years old. What bad intentions could she have? Your daughter lost her balance. You can’t blame others for that. “Olivia, this house is mine. If you keep making things difficult for them, you can get out!” Blood was flowing from Ellie’s head. I had no time to argue and rushed out the door carrying her. At the hospital, an elderly doctor shook his head. “Our county facilities are limited. The blood clot in your daughter’s brain can’t be completely removed here. You need to get her to the city hospital for surgery immediately.” I nodded repeatedly and anxiously asked, “How much will it cost?” The bill handed to me by the nurse clearly showed three hundred dollars. “Your daughter will stay here for observation. Go home and gather the money. The transfer vehicle leaves this afternoon.” I quickly agreed, wiped away my tears, and ran back home. Although three hundred dollars was a substantial amount this Christmas, I could afford it. Over these Christmases, Patrick and I had saved quite a bit for Ellie, precisely for emergencies like this. The house was empty. I rushed to our bedroom and pulled out the metal box where we kept our money from under the bed. However, all the bills inside were gone, along with the valuable items at the bottom. My body went cold as I frantically searched the entire house, my hands shaking with anxiety. But there was no trace of the money anywhere. I found Ellie’s bankbook and felt relieved when I saw the balance. This was the two hundred dollars I had saved through frugal living. If I could gather a bit more, it should be enough. I quickly ran to the bank, but the teller looked surprised after checking my account. “Ma’am, this account was reported lost last month. A new bankbook was issued, and this one is now invalid.” I stared at the remaining balance and had to lean against the wall to steady myself. “Who reported it?” “The account holder, Patrick Hastings. He came with his ID and marriage certificate.” My legs gave way as I collapsed to the floor, thinking, “This was Ellie’s life-saving money. What did he do with it?” I couldn’t reach Patrick, but his colleague answered the phone. “Patrick? Hazel was insisting on buying a house. He just went with her to look at one!” When I found them at the real estate office, Hazel was smiling with her arm linked through his. “Patrick, will Olivia find out?” “Don’t worry. She barely knows how to read and won’t understand bank statements.” “Olivia is just stubborn. Money sitting around only loses value. Buying this house now will secure Angela’s education in the future.” Patrick said tenderly, “Tomorrow I’ll withdraw more money to buy you an electric fan.” I was thunderstruck. It took me a moment to recover before I rushed over to them. Patrick pulled me aside, his smile radiant. “Olivia, what are you doing here?” I threw the bankbooks at him and asked with a trembling voice, “Patrick, where is our money?!” He was silent for a moment. Then, realizing what had happened, he calmly explained, “Hazel needed more money for the house. Of course I had to help her. When my Christmas bonus comes, I’ll replace it.” “I don’t agree. Make them return the money!” I laughed bitterly in my anger. I pushed my way to the counter and tried to grab the money, but several people held me back. “Olivia, weren’t you the one who forced them to move out? What are you making a scene about now?” “She’s struggling to raise Angela alone. As a woman, don’t you have any compassion?” Hazel cried, “Olivia doesn’t approve. Maybe I should cancel the house purchase…” Patrick frowned deeply, shoved a stack of money into the clerk’s hands, and gestured for him to take it. “I make the decisions in this family, and we don’t need her approval. Ignore her and continue with the process.” Soon, a purchase contract with Hazel’s name was handed over. Her crying immediately stopped as she smiled and winked at me. “Your own daughter is dying, yet you’re using all our savings to buy a house for another woman. We have nothing left!” “Patrick, do you realize this was her life-saving money?” Everyone in the room stared at me. Furious, I raised my hand to slap Hazel. Patrick stepped in front of her, angrily grabbing my wrist and twisting it. “Will you ever stop? Hazel already feels guilty enough and has been crying all day about this. Stop scaring them, will you?” He impatiently pulled out a few crumpled bills from his pocket and threw them at me. “She just scraped her skin a bit. Do you have to make such a scene? That’s enough! Stop embarrassing yourself here. If you continue, don’t blame me for being heartless.” I didn’t take the money, looking down at the five dollars while laughing through my tears. “Fine, Patrick. You’re such a good father.” After a moment, I wiped away my tears and said firmly, “I want a divorce!”

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My husband, Edward Murphy, after failing his SAT, took our family’s last three hundred dollars and went south to start a business. Three Christmases later, he returned broke, sobbing over my spaghetti. “Darling, I’ve failed you and our child. I’m in debt that I’ll never be able to repay in this lifetime.” I looked at our son, Aaron Murphy, burning with fever in my arms, then slipped the three hundred and twenty dollars I’d earned from selling my blood into Edward’s hand. “Take this for now. Aaron and I can hold on a little longer.” Edward nodded, tears in his eyes. He walked away unsteadily, his silhouette hunched as if crushed by the weight of our entire family. That day, I had just taken a stack of hundred-dollar bills from selling my kidney to buy special medicine for Aaron. However, I saw Edward holding hands with a woman and a child, shopping together. Only then did I realize he had already become the village’s first millionaire and had started a new family. ***** “Hey, Mr. Murphy, you’ve brought your wife and child shopping again?” The shopping center manager, Eric Davis, approached with a smile, clearly eager to make another big sale. Edward wore a crisp white cotton shirt and polished leather shoes, completely different from the man who had cried about being poor over my spaghetti three months ago. But his voice was unmistakably familiar. “Pack up everything Kelly just picked out.” Eric was delighted and couldn’t help but flatter him. “Mr. Murphy, as our county’s first millionaire, you’re so generous.” My husband had become a millionaire, and as his wife, I was hearing this news from someone else’s mouth. I looked down at my plain clothes, washed so many times they had faded, while the wound on my side burned like fire. My pocket held the money from selling my kidney. Besides buying Aaron’s medicine, I had planned to give Edward the rest to pay off his debts. Now, it all seemed like a cruel joke. I clenched my fists and called out hoarsely, “Edward!” Seeing me, Edward panicked instantly, instinctively hiding his son, Daniel Murphy, behind him. “Ma’am, you must have the wrong person.” His voice suddenly pitched higher. His tone felt completely unfamiliar to me. His mistress, Kelly Simmons, glanced at me sideways, then burst into a shrill laugh. “Now even beggars are coming to the shopping center.” “I’m Edward’s wife…” Before I could finish, Edward cut me off harshly, “Don’t talk nonsense! This is my wife. Don’t mistake me for someone else.” Then he pulled Kelly closer to him. She smugly clung to his arm. “Edward, is she one of those poor relatives from your hometown who heard you became a millionaire and came running to borrow money?” I stepped forward, and suddenly the wound on my waist felt like it was tearing open. “Edward, you may not recognize me. But do you not recognize your own son?” Aaron peeked out from behind me, tears in his eyes, timidly calling Edward “Daddy.” Edward narrowed his eyes. Before he could speak, Daniel jumped forward. “Don’t lie! This is my dad!” I stared at Daniel. He had dimples and looked exactly like Edward when he was younger at Christmas. Daniel seemed to be about two years older than Aaron. My heart sank. Edward said he went south to start a business, but he likely had another woman all along. I stepped forward, trembling. “Edward, all these Christmases I worked hard to earn money to help pay off your debts. Yet you treat me so cruelly.” Edward looked extremely uncomfortable and remained silent for a while. Kelly bit her lip and pushed me. “Stop acting! Edward is a millionaire now, and not just anyone can claim a connection to him!” I fell to the ground, causing the money I had exchanged with my life to scatter from my pocket. Kelly got excited and bent down to pick it up. “This is my hard-earned money. You can’t take it!” I struggled to grab it back, but she stepped on the back of my hand. “Wow, these bills even have sequential serial numbers. Maybe you stole Edward’s money. I’ll just take it back to buy Daniel a piano.” “Give my mom’s money back!” Aaron cried, lunging forward to bite Kelly’s wrist. She screamed in pain and kicked him. “Get away, you little bastard!” Her foot landed right in Aaron’s chest. I watched helplessly as he flew like a rag doll, the back of his head smashing hard against the corner of the counter. In an instant, blood spread across the floor, and his tiny body convulsed uncontrollably. I crawled over, bleeding myself, screaming in agony, “Aaron!” “Edward!” I looked up desperately, only to see Edward hurriedly leaving with Kelly and Daniel. “Please, save Aaron.” Edward’s steps faltered briefly. Just when I thought he might turn back, Daniel tugged at his sleeve. “Dad, I want honey cake.” “Sure. I’ll buy you some.” He walked away with Kelly and Daniel without looking back at us once. As the bloodstain grew larger, I trembled as I held Aaron, feeling utterly hopeless. Perhaps marrying Edward at all costs was a mistake from the beginning.

“Please, save my son.” I collapsed on the ground, desperately begging passersby for help. But they all cleared a path, as if trying to avoid misfortune. Aaron’s face was as white as paper, and his breathing was extremely faint. I tore off a clean piece of my clothing with trembling hands, but his bleeding wouldn’t stop. “Hang in there! I’ll take you to the hospital right now.” I tried to lift him, but my legs felt like cotton. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stand up. Just as I was about to give up hope, a pair of strong hands took Aaron from me. “Follow me.” In the end, thanks to Dr. Julian Foster who was out making house calls, I managed to get Aaron to the hospital. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead. A nurse muttered while cutting gauze, “If you’d brought him in half an hour later, he would’ve either died or ended up brain-damaged.” “Remember to pay the thirty-dollar deposit and hospitalization fee.” I trembled. The money I’d gotten from selling my kidney had been stolen, and I only had a few coins left in my pocket. “I’ll go get the money right away,” I said, forcing myself to stand up before suddenly feeling dizzy. The nurse pulled back my blood-soaked clothing and screamed, “Are you trying to kill yourself? The wound on your waist is infected. Where’s your husband?” My husband… since the moment I discovered his affair, he might as well have been dead to me. I shook my head. “I’m fine.” Ignoring the nurse’s protests, I gritted my teeth and rushed out into the rain, enduring the excruciating pain. By the time I reached Edward’s dormitory, it was the middle of the night. Through the heavy rain, I could see Edward holding Daniel up high in his arms, while Kelly laughed happily beside them. They looked like the perfect family. I took a deep breath and pounded on the wooden door. The next second, someone yanked it open. When Edward saw me, his expression immediately darkened. “It’s the middle of the night! Audrey, stop making trouble.” I shouted, “Give me back my money! That’s Aaron’s life-saving money!” Kelly sauntered over and wrapped her arms around Edward’s waist, giving me a sidelong glance. “What life-saving money? That money was used to pay off debts. Besides, maybe your money was illegally obtained.” Furious, I reached out to slap her, but Edward caught my wrist. He forcefully pushed my hand away. “Audrey, don’t make a scene here!” “Edward, Aaron is your own son! He’s in the hospital now and needs money for surgery! Are you really not going to save him?” Finally, my tone turned to pleading. Edward frowned deeply, staring at me with scrutinizing eyes. “Wasn’t it just a minor injury? How could it be that serious?” During all these days he’d been gone, Aaron and I had suffered tremendously, yet here he was, making sarcastic remarks. I stared at the expensive Rolex on his wrist and suddenly laughed. “Edward, don’t forget that when your mother died, I was the one who sold my jewelry to pay for her funeral.” “Don’t bring up the past!” Edward looked embarrassed and glanced back at Kelly. “Fine, wait here for me a moment.” With that, he turned and went inside. Kelly glared at me fiercely before slamming the door shut. The cold rain seeped through my collar and into my clothes, making the wound on my waist feel like it was tearing open, but that was nothing compared to the chill rising from the depths of my heart. After what seemed like forever, the door opened again. Edward shoved a crumpled envelope into my hands. “This is all I have. Now go.” My heart skipped a beat. With trembling hands, I opened the envelope to find only a few crumpled bills inside. I jerked my head up. “8.6 dollars? Edward, aren’t you a millionaire?!” Edward frowned and impatiently cut me off, “Everything I’ve achieved today is thanks to Kelly’s support. Since you didn’t contribute, you should be grateful for what you get!” I was shaking with anger and threw the money in his face. “You bastard! If anything happens to Aaron, I won’t let you two off even if it kills me.” With no other choice, I stumbled to an illegal clinic and sold my blood to barely cover Aaron’s surgery costs. “This is for Aaron’s expenses…” I had just handed the money to the nurse when I passed out. When I woke up, I met Julian’s gaze. He seemed hesitant to speak. “If you keep damaging your health like this, you might lose your life first.” I managed a weak smile. “I have no other choice.” After eating a few bites of oatmeal, I wearily walked to Aaron’s hospital room. He was already awake. His thin little face turned toward me. “Mom, did Dad abandon us?”

“I dreamed that Dad took Daniel to the new amusement park, and they even had expensive ice cream at the entrance. “Now that Dad has a more obedient child, will he ever come see me again?” Aaron’s voice grew increasingly faint. I bit my lower lip, tears nearly falling. That day, when Edward showed up with Kelly and Daniel, it broke both Aaron’s and my hearts. Afraid Aaron would overthink, I could only offer a hollow explanation, “Your dad is just busy. He’ll come see you once he’s done with work.” I’d repeated this lie so many times that even I found it ridiculous. Aaron didn’t respond. He pulled out a half-eaten, stale cookie from under his pillow. “Mom, this is for you. The nurse gave it to me.” The cookie had already gone soft. Obviously, he’d been saving it for quite some time. Looking at his thin wrist, I shook my head, feeling tears well up. “I’m not hungry. You keep it.” Before I could finish, Aaron clutched the hem of my shirt, as if afraid I might disappear. “Mom, you’ll always stay with me, right?” At that moment, the grief I’d been holding back finally erupted. I pulled him into my arms. “I will never leave you, Aaron. When you get better, I’ll take you to the amusement park too.” Just then, the wooden door to the hospital room swung open. I looked up to see Edward standing in the doorway, holding a plastic mesh bag with two nearly rotten apples. He looked more energetic than last time. Clearly, Kelly was taking good care of him. With a forced smile, he strode over. “Aaron, I came to see you.” Aaron’s eyes lit up like stars. He struggled to sit up. I stood and positioned myself in front of his bed, saying quietly, “Let’s talk outside.” The hospital corridor was empty. I clenched my fists and said coldly, “Just tell me what you want.” Edward’s fake smile had vanished, replaced by a fawning expression. He wrung his hands, avoiding my gaze. “Audrey, I know I’ve wronged you and Aaron, but this is a matter of life and death.” My heart sank. An ominous feeling swept over me. “Daniel is sick and needs a kidney transplant. The specialist from Washington says Aaron’s kidney is a perfect match.” The world seemed to freeze, with only Edward’s broken voice continuing. “It’s just one kidney from Aaron, it won’t affect him at all. The specialist has arranged everything, we just need your consent…” I finally snapped back to reality and said sharply, “Edward, have you lost your mind? Aaron is still on penicillin. The doctor said…” Edward cut me off angrily, “I’m his father. You’re just a selfish hick who doesn’t understand anything!” I trembled all over. I thought he felt guilty and came to see Aaron, but I never imagined he wanted Aaron’s kidney! The doctor had said the worst thing for Aaron’s recovery would be any additional damage to his body. I wiped my face, the back of my hand wet with cold tears. “Am I selfish? I married you when I was eighteen and had Aaron at twenty. You were away working for three Christmases. Yet when you came back, you brought a mistress and an illegitimate son. “Now you want to sacrifice Aaron to save him?!” “Shut up!” Edward slapped me hard, making me dizzy. I leaned against the mottled wall, a trace of blood at the corner of my mouth. Seeing the bright red handprint on my face, he looked uneasy. “You shouldn’t insult Daniel…” I slowly turned my face back, wiping away the blood from my lip. “I want a divorce. We’re going to court today.” Edward froze for a moment, then sneered, “Divorce? You’re just a useless woman. If you leave me, are you planning to beg on the streets? Without me, you wouldn’t survive!” My voice trembled but remained firm. “I’d sell my kidney or my blood to pay back the money, but I will never let you hurt Aaron!” Just then, Kelly came running down the hallway in her plastic sandals. The concealer on her face couldn’t hide her dark circles. “Edward, how’s everything going?” she asked softly, completely ignoring me. Edward shook his head grimly. Only then did Kelly look at me, suddenly bursting into tears. “Audrey, everything is my fault, but Daniel is innocent!” I watched her performance coldly, unmoved. She suddenly lunged forward and grabbed my hands. “Is it because I was too harsh last time, and you resent me? I apologize, okay? I’m just begging you to save Daniel!” As she was about to continue pleading, Edward pulled her into his arms. He turned to glare at me and shouted, “Audrey, you don’t have a choice today! I will take Aaron’s kidney for Daniel!” Before I could react, four muscular men in blue uniforms suddenly emerged from the shadows of the hallway, quickly surrounding me. I backed away in terror, but one of them grabbed my arm. “What are you doing? This is a hospital!” Edward leaned close to my ear and said, “Specialists from Washington are waiting at the hotel. This surgery must happen!” I kicked hard toward his groin, but someone knocked me out from behind. The last thing I heard was Aaron crying out my name… I don’t know how long I was unconscious. Suddenly, I was awakened by excruciating pain in my wrists. Opening my eyes, I found myself in a dim storage room, my hands and feet bound with rough rope, unable to move. The wooden door creaked open. Kelly walked in with a cup, her face wearing an eerie smile. “Have some water.” When I turned away, she suddenly grabbed my braid and yanked me backward. “Who do you think you are? You and your son are worth less than a donkey!” Thinking of Aaron still in the hospital, I twisted in panic. “Please, Aaron is just a child. He can’t lose his kidney! I’ll divorce Edward. I won’t bother you anymore after that.” Kelly smiled triumphantly, “It’s too late to beg now. Come in, boys! Let’s give her a good time!” Three burly men ducked into the room, grinning maliciously. “What are you going to do?” I desperately shrank back, but the wall was behind me—there was nowhere to retreat. “Once you’re ruined, Edward won’t want you anymore!” With that, Kelly slammed the storage room door shut. When one thug’s rough hand touched my neck, I headbutted him hard in the nose. “Bitch, I’ll kill you!” I was slapped several times until my head was ringing. As I watched my clothes being torn, I felt utterly hopeless. Just then, a commotion erupted outside the storage room. While the thugs were distracted, I rolled toward a woodpile and found a sharp piece of wood. Despite my fingers being cut and bleeding, I felt no pain. After cutting through the rope, I charged at them wielding the wooden stick. I can’t remember how I made it to the cornfield afterward. All I could think about was Aaron’s pale face. I had lost my cloth shoes. The soles of my feet were cut and bleeding from the sharp stones, but I didn’t dare stop for a moment. When I finally reached the hospital, breathless, the red light above the operating room had just gone out. Edward leaned against the wall smoking a cigarette and sneered, “I told you Aaron would be fine, but you had to…” His words were cut off by the specialist coming through the door. “I’m sorry. Aaron suffered severe bleeding during surgery…”

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I was in a car accident and lost my memory. When I woke up, everyone around me told me that Elliott Wellington, who had taken care of me for seven days and seven nights, loved me dearly and was my husband of five years. I believed it. Through our gentle interactions, I fell in love with him again and even had a daughter. While recovering after giving birth, I accidentally logged into his social media account. Those chat records spanning over two thousand days cut through the truth like knives. When I was in a car accident on a cheap bus, Elliott was buying first-class plane tickets for his female friend, Rebecca Wilson, who was also traveling. When I was suffering from morning sickness to the point of dehydration and anorexia, they were discussing what delicious meal he would cook for her next. When I was breaking down with postpartum depression, he stayed out all night because she claimed she was afraid of the dark. Rebecca knew I was his wife, yet she still acted as a mediator whenever I argued with Elliott. [Stella has been a housewife for so many years, only knowing how to do housework. She’ll never understand your intellectual world.] [Her limited perspective restricts her. Don’t hold it against her.] What angered me more were his replies. [You’re truly the only one who understands me!] He pretended to be devoted, and she acted innocent, but together they were methodically driving me insane. ***** My hands wouldn’t stop shaking. I slammed the phone face-down on the table, afraid to look anymore. Two years ago, I lost my memory in a car accident. Elliott said we had loved each other for five years, built on unconditional trust. That’s why I never questioned his whereabouts or checked his phone. But now I understood that this so-called trust was nothing but a scam. I took a deep breath and dialed the number I had pinned at the top of my contacts. But after several attempts, no one answered. I looked down. The messages on my phone screen kept flashing: [She’s calling me again. Can’t I have any personal space? She’s so annoying!] [That’s just how Stella is. Bear with her a little longer. It’ll get better once she recovers.] [You’re so understanding. Come over to my place later. I specially ordered some fish oil supplements from abroad to boost your nutrition.] In the cold light of the phone screen, a photo showed several boxes of glucosamine neatly arranged, alongside some exotic fruits I’d never seen before. I suddenly remembered my severe anemia during late pregnancy. The doctor recommended expensive vitamins, but Elliott just bought me some cheap ones. “They’re all vitamins. They’re pretty much the same anyway.” During labor, I fainted repeatedly from the pain, but he told the nurses to cancel the epidural. “Just bear with it. The epidural isn’t good for the baby.” Thinking about how hard Elliott worked to earn money, I endured the excruciating pain of full cervical dilation. But in reality, all his careful calculations were just for another woman. Looking at the screen showing missed calls, anger and despair washed over me. Just then, a baby’s cry brought me back to reality. I got out of bed despite the pain and cradled my daughter from the bassinet beside the bed. In that moment, she stopped crying and grabbed my hand with her innocent eyes. Her grip was gentle, yet it made my heart skip a beat. I thought again about those chat records. I bit my lip so hard it bled. I knew I needed to confront Elliott immediately, for the sake of our shattered marriage and our daughter. Holding my daughter tight, I fought through the abdominal pain and walked out of the hospital, taking a cab home. As soon as I reached our front door, I heard faint laughter from inside. “Elliott, take down that wedding photo from the wall. It makes me sad to look at it.” I stood at the doorway. My fingers gripped the doorframe tightly, barely keeping my weak legs steady. I remembered how, when I woke up with amnesia, Elliott had held my hand and repeatedly told me sweet stories behind each photo. And now, he was violently dismantling the last picture with a screwdriver. Rebecca was lounging on the sofa, playing with her phone. Her toenails were painted with polish, and she was stepping on my face in the wedding photo. My daughter, sensing my emotions, burst into violent tears. Elliott saw me and looked surprised. “Stella, why are you suddenly back?” He instinctively shielded Rebecca behind him. I bent down to pick up the yellowed fragments of the photo at my feet. The pieces crumbled at the slightest touch, just like his casual promises. Elliott quickly explained, “Stella, this is my friend, Rebecca Wilson. She just got back from Iceland, and she’s having some serious withdrawal symptoms.” “She asked to stay at our place for a few days. Since you were recovering at the hospital, I let her come. You don’t mind, right?” He seemed to be asking for my opinion, but he had already made the decision without me. I thought I had prepared myself mentally, but when I personally confirmed everything, a wave of pain surged through my heart. I held my daughter tighter and said hoarsely, “Elliott, let’s get a divorce.”

Elliott frowned deeply. “I just invited my friend to stay at our house for a few days. Is that really grounds for divorce?” “Friend? Do friends say goodnight to each other at three in the morning every day? When she had menstrual cramps, you personally took care of her and gave her massages.” “She even moved into our home and directed my husband to take down our wedding photos. If I hadn’t come back, would you two have started having sex?” As soon as I finished speaking, he slapped me hard across the face. My cheek burned with pain. I stood there stunned, holding my face, looking at the man I once loved deeply. Now, he seemed like a complete stranger. “Stella, I’m sorry.” Elliott panicked instantly. He reached out to touch my face, but I dodged his hand. Rebecca also stood up, tears silently streaming down her face. “Stella, you’ve misunderstood. Elliott wanted to surprise you with a new wedding photoshoot after you were discharged from the hospital, so he asked me to come over as a consultant.” Then, she held up her phone to show me reference photos of wedding dresses. Elliott chimed in, “That’s right! Can you stop thinking the worst of people?” If I hadn’t seen those chat messages, I might have believed them. I let out a cold laugh, my gaze falling on the diamond necklace around Rebecca’s neck. Elliott had promised to buy me that necklace for my birthday. I had been looking forward to it, but on my birthday, all I received was a yellowed, withered rose. Yet now, this necklace worth thirty-eight thousand dollars hung proudly around Rebecca’s neck. At this point, I had nothing left to say. Without another glance at them, I picked up my daughter and headed toward the bedroom. Since there was no place for me here, there was no reason to stay. Elliott caught up and grabbed my wrist. “Stella, what are you doing?” I yanked my hand away forcefully but accidentally bumped into the cabinet behind me. Just then, a sharp pain shot through my lower abdomen, and I felt a warm wetness between my legs. The postpartum bleeding that had almost stopped now erupted along with my despair. “Stella!” The next moment, I closed my eyes and lost consciousness. When I woke up, I saw the stark white ceiling of a hospital room. I sat up frantically. Only after seeing my daughter still in the bassinet did I breathe a sigh of relief. “Stella, you’re awake.” I turned to see the worried faces of my parents. I felt a wave of sadness. Just as tears welled up, I saw Elliott acting as if nothing had happened, lovingly bringing a spoonful of pumpkin soup to my lips. “Stella, you’re finally awake. Have some soup while it’s hot.” For a moment, I was disoriented, as if transported back to two Christmases ago when I woke up after my car accident. Back then, he was just as gentle and attentive. But Elliott’s next words instantly pulled me back to reality. “Rebecca made this soup especially for you. You really misunderstood us.” I turned my head away, causing the spoonful of pumpkin soup to spill onto the pristine white sheets. “I told you, Elliott, I want a divorce.” The atmosphere instantly became tense. Elliott’s expression darkened, but still mindful of my parents’ presence, he patiently emphasized, “There’s nothing between Rebecca and me. If you don’t like her, I’ll limit my interactions with her.” He reached out to hold my hand, but I quickly pulled away. My mother suddenly put down the fruit she was holding, her voice carrying that familiar tone of reproach. “Stella, you’re a mother now. How can you still be so stubborn?” My father frowned. “Whatever happened, you and Elliott should talk it through. There’s no need for divorce!” Elliott hid behind them, acting as if he was the one who had been wronged.

The attitude of my own parents only made me feel more heartbroken. These past two Christmases, they’ve been constantly pressuring me to have children. I nearly died during childbirth, but when they heard I had a daughter, they all made excuses not to come help me. I had to take care of myself while also comforting my daughter, exhausting myself to the point of collapse. But they turned a blind eye to all of this. Instead, as soon as they heard I wanted a divorce, they rushed to persuade me to compromise. My mom held my hand, softening her tone. “Stella, couples need to learn to understand each other. This isn’t such a big mistake. If you just let it go, the whole thing will be over, won’t it?” My dad chimed in, “Exactly! You’re not getting any younger. Hurry up and give Elliott a son, in case something happens later.” They only focused on making demands, seemingly forgetting that I had almost lost my life giving birth. Elliott served pumpkin soup again, pretending to be considerate, “Stella, just focus on recovering. Don’t worry about making money, I’ve got that covered.” Watching him act so attentive in front of my parents made me sick. I knocked the plate of pumpkin soup to the floor, saying coldly, “Elliott, I will divorce you.” Elliott couldn’t dodge in time. His hand was scalded with several blisters, and his expression immediately darkened. “Stella, can you stop making a scene?” My parents exploded in anger, snatching away my phone and shouting, “As long as we’re around, you’ll never get a divorce!” With that, they stormed out, slamming the door behind them. Before leaving, they instructed the nurse to keep a close eye on me, not letting me wander around. Immediately after, Elliott’s attitude changed. He angrily threw the plate down and reached for our daughter in the cradle. “You’re emotionally unstable. Our daughter shouldn’t stay with you. I’m taking her away!” I stared in shock, lunging forward to take my daughter back. “Don’t touch my child!” But he pushed me hard, causing my lower back to hit the bed rail. I instantly felt dizzy. “Rebecca is a child psychologist. She knows better than you how to care for children. You just stay in the hospital and get better!” With that, he left with our daughter without looking back. I leaned against the bed for quite a while to recover. My whole body ached as if it would fall apart, but it couldn’t compare to my heartbreak. I had thought I could at least fight for my right to divorce, but now I couldn’t even protect my own child. Thinking about my daughter’s safety, I felt uneasy. That night, during the nurses’ shift change, I snuck out of the hospital. The early spring wind was still chilly, making me shiver all over. I was wearing only a thin piece of clothing. Without my phone, I could only run home against the cold wind. My sense of unease grew stronger. At the next corner, my steps suddenly halted. In a five-star restaurant in the distance sat two familiar figures. Elliott was attentively pouring red wine for Rebecca, while in the stroller beside them, my daughter was crying incessantly. There was also a gift box on the table. With my sharp eyes, I immediately recognized it as the heirloom diamond bracelet I had brought from my hometown when I got married. Elliott carefully placed it on Rebecca’s wrist, gently adjusting it for her. “Rebecca, Stella is being too unreasonable. I apologize to you.” Looking at that high-quality diamond bracelet, I clenched my fists tightly. Even if I had amnesia, I would still remember how incredibly important that bracelet was to me. But now, Elliott had casually given it to someone else. Rebecca suddenly burst into tears, saying weakly, “But Stella wants to divorce you. Maybe I should disappear for a while.” My daughter’s crying interrupted her performance. Annoyed, she pinched my daughter’s delicate little face and was about to pour wine into her mouth. Elliott quickly stepped forward to stop her. “Rebecca, she’s less than a month old. I’m afraid she can’t drink alcohol.” Rebecca flashed a sweet smile, saying lightly, “It’s fine. A little alcohol helps children sleep better. I know children best. I’m doing this for her own good. Elliott, don’t you trust me?” Her pitiful look softened his heart. He stopped trying to prevent her. My heart skipped a beat. Just before Rebecca could pour the wine into my daughter’s mouth, I rushed into the restaurant and pushed her away. “Let go of my daughter!” Rebecca stumbled, and the bottle of wine smashed hard against my head. Blood mixed with alcohol ran down my face. I’m allergic to alcohol, so half my face began to break out in red hives. But I couldn’t worry about myself; I was only concerned about my daughter, who had cried herself to dehydration. After confirming she was unharmed, I finally breathed a sigh of relief. Elliott, behind me, instantly flew into a rage, shouting, “Stella, didn’t I tell you to stay in the hospital? Why did you run out again?” “Should I have stayed in the hospital so you could abuse my child here?” I was shaking with anger, instinctively holding my daughter tighter. My daughter stopped crying when she saw me, just looking at me with innocent eyes. Seeing her confused expression made me even more furious. “She’s less than a month old, yet you dared to force alcohol down her throat. Are you trying to kill her?!” The other diners’ expressions immediately changed, looking at Elliott and Rebecca with contempt. Rebecca stood helplessly to the side, acting as if she had been wronged. “Stella, you misunderstood. Look, we brought your daughter to dinner, worried something might happen to her. How could we possibly give her alcohol?” Elliott quickly stepped forward to smooth things over. “She’s right. Honey, your emotions are unstable after giving birth, you must have seen wrong. Rebecca was trying to feed her milk.” As he spoke, he waved the now-cold baby bottle in his hand, putting on a show of being a caring father. I felt sick and violently knocked the bottle to the floor. “Elliott, this is the last time I’m telling you. We’re getting divorced. I’ll see you in court tomorrow at eight!” The next second, I ran out with my daughter, hailed a taxi, and headed straight to the law firm. When the staff at the firm saw me disheveled and holding a newborn, they were all startled. I didn’t care about anything else and urgently said, “Hello, please help me draft a divorce agreement!” After hearing my story, the staff were filled with righteous indignation, eager to teach Elliott a lesson on my behalf. “Mrs. Edwards, don’t worry. The divorce agreement will be ready tomorrow. We’ll assign our best lawyer to represent you.” After days of exhausting running around, their caring words moved me to tears. “Good, I’ll come pick it up tomorrow.” After thanking the law firm staff, I left with my daughter. But just then, an angry roar like thunder exploded behind me. “Stella!” I trembled, instinctively holding my daughter more protectively. As I turned around, Elliott had already stormed up to me, looking furious. Behind him followed Rebecca, her face dark with malice. “Stella, why are you running around with our daughter this late? Come back with me now!” He grabbed my wrist so hard it made me gasp in pain. Rebecca quickly stepped forward, pretending to persuade me, “Stella, Elliott has been looking for you all night. Do you know how worried we were? “Even if you don’t think about yourself, you should consider your daughter and Elliott.” I struggled desperately, but Elliott’s grip made me stumble. His face was distorted with rage. “Stella, you want a divorce, right? I agree, but our daughter and property will be mine! “Once you’re without this family, you won’t survive!” My daughter woke up frightened in my arms and began to cry weakly. I lowered my voice, afraid of scaring her. “Keep dreaming! I’ve already applied for a restraining order. You won’t separate us!” With that, I bent down and bit Elliott’s wrist hard. He let go of me in pain. I immediately turned and ran toward the crowded area of the plaza. “Help! Someone’s trying to take my baby!” I hadn’t fully recovered, so after running a short distance, Rebecca caught up and grabbed me. She was frantic. “Stella, since you want to make a scene, don’t blame me for being ruthless!” Blinding headlights illuminated Rebecca’s twisted face. I stared in horror. In the second before the vehicle was about to hit us, I tightly shielded my daughter in my arms. In the moment of excruciating pain, I heard Elliott’s heart-wrenching scream. Then, I lost consciousness. When I regained consciousness, I saw the stark white ceiling of the hospital. Elliott rushed to my bedside, his eyes bloodshot. “Stella! You’re finally awake. I…” I hoarsely interrupted him, saying distantly, “Elliott, I remember everything about what happened two Christmases ago.”

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On my son Oscar Whitman’s first birthday, my husband Yves Whitman’s company was exposed for tax issues, and he faced three years in prison. His parents were seriously ill, and Oscar was still very young. To keep our family together, I tearfully took the blame for him and served three years in prison in his place. When I was released and returned home, I discovered Yves hosting a party for his son, celebrating his one-month birthday. But Oscar was already four years old, not one month old. Then, Yves walked out wearing a suit. Beside him was his childhood friend Tiffany Mitchell, dressed in a designer gown. They were holding their son Brian Whitman, smiling happily as they put a sapphire pendant around his neck. “Mr. Whitman is truly remarkable! Three years ago, he lost all his assets after being framed. For the sake of his wife, he built his fortune from scratch and became a billionaire.” “They say on the day Brian Whitman was born, Mr. Whitman prayed outside the delivery room for two days and two nights, hoping his wife and son would be safe!” Listening to the admiring comments around me, I felt devastated. I thought, “Everyone praises how loving Yves and Tiffany are, but what about all the pain I endured in prison for him these three years? And why is my four-year-old son nowhere to be seen?” ***** I angrily rushed forward and snatched the sapphire pendant from Yves’ hand. “This is the sapphire pendant I had specially made for my son, isn’t it? Why are you giving it to someone else?” This sapphire pendant was crafted with the finest sapphire for Oscar, with a small tiger charm on it. There was only one like it in all of New York! Seeing me suddenly appear, Yves blurted out in panic, “Leah? How did you get back?” My expression immediately turned cold. Before I could speak, a middle-aged woman wearing luxurious jewelry from the crowd, Tiffany’s mother Hannah Mitchell, shouted at me, “Who are you, beggar? How dare you crash the Whitman family party and steal my grandson’s sapphire pendant! “Yves, call security and throw her out!” The guests also began to condemn me with contempt. “Who is she? Today is Brian Whitman’s birthday party. How dare she cause trouble at the Whitman mansion.” “She’s probably a gold-digger trying to seduce Mr. Whitman.” “Her clothes are so shabby. How did she even have the nerve to come in?” I clenched my fists, glancing at my faded clothes. Since no one came to pick me up after my release, I was still wearing the outdated clothes from three years ago. I had rushed over without telling anyone because I missed Yves and Oscar, but I never expected to witness this scene. Hearing the guests’ comments about me, I let out a cold laugh. “Would Yves dare?” Yves met my gaze, then quickly looked away. I knew he was afraid I would reveal that I had gone to prison for him three years ago. He grabbed me and whispered, “Leah, don’t make a scene! Whatever you need to discuss can wait until after the party.” I stared at him coldly, saying nothing. Nearby, Tiffany looked at me with jealousy, then said pitifully, “Miss Wilson, it’s my fault. I shouldn’t be here. I’ll leave.” As she spoke, she gently shook her hand, revealing the diamond bracelet on her wrist. My expression immediately darkened. This bracelet was an heirloom from my mother. Even during the most difficult times three years ago, I never sold it. Before going to prison, I asked Yves’ mother, Melissa Whitman, to keep it safe for me. I wondered how it ended up on Tiffany’s wrist. Angrily, I stepped forward and grabbed Tiffany’s wrist. “This bracelet was a gift from my mother. Who gave you permission to take it?” She cried out in pain. Yves rushed forward and pushed me away, embracing her protectively. “Today is Brian’s birthday party. Tiffany was so busy she forgot to buy jewelry, so I gave her this bracelet to wear so she wouldn’t look underdressed. “Do you really need to be so petty?” Tiffany’s eyes welled with tears as she tried to remove the bracelet from her wrist. “This belongs to Miss Wilson. I should return it to her.” Yves stopped her, his face angry. “This is my house, and I am the head of this family! “I said I gave it to you. So it’s yours!” Tiffany leaned against Yves gratefully. The surrounding guests praised him for loving his wife while criticizing me as a beggar trying to ruin their relationship. I sneered. Just as I was about to speak, two uniformed police officers walked in from the door. Everyone looked at each other in confusion. Then the two officers walked straight up to me. They handed me a piece of paper and said seriously, “Leah, you forgot to take your release certificate. We brought it to you.”

I took the certificate and thanked the two police officers. As soon as they left, everyone around me burst into mocking laughter. “So she’s been to prison!” “She actually dares to come to the Whitman Villa! She might be a thief who targets events like this.” “Where are the security guards? Why haven’t they thrown her out yet?” Hannah looked at me with disgust and snapped, “What kind of criminal are you? How dare you show up at my grandson’s birthday party and cause trouble! Apologize to my precious daughter and grandson right now. Otherwise, I’ll send you back to prison!” I stared at her in her luxurious outfit, arrogant and domineering. I remembered when Christmas first came to New York, she was timid and insecure. Now that version of her was completely gone. I turned to Yves and demanded, “Yves, isn’t our son already four years old? Whose birthday party are you hosting today? When did you have another son?” He frowned and replied as if it were perfectly normal, “During the three Christmases you were in prison, I rebuilt my life from scratch. I needed a wife to support me.” My anger intensified. Just as I was about to confront Yves, a security guard rushed forward and covered my mouth. Yves glanced at me, then turned to the guests with a smile. “I apologize, everyone. That was just an unfortunate incident. Let’s continue with the party!” After saying this, he tried to snatch the sapphire pendant from my hand, but I clutched it tightly, refusing to let go. Tiffany pleaded desperately, “Ms. Wilson, please give me the sapphire pendant. I was too careless and forgot to prepare jewelry. Today is Brian’s birthday party. He must wear this pendant.” I bit the security guard’s hand hard. He yelped in pain and released me. I stepped forward and slapped Tiffany across the face. “You shameless bitch. You stole my bracelet and now you want to steal my son’s sapphire pendant too!” Hannah rushed to support Tiffany and yelled at me, “You’re just a criminal who’s been to prison. How dare you hit my daughter! She’s Yves’s wife!” “Tiffany is Yves’s wife?” I couldn’t help but sneer as I looked at Yves. “If I remember correctly, we’re still married, aren’t we?” He awkwardly avoided my gaze and said helplessly, “Leah, I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but this is how things are now. Can’t you just bear with it? I’ll explain everything to you after the birthday party.” Hearing Yves’s words, I felt a chill run down my spine. Back then, my family and his were of equal status. Shortly after our marriage, my parents died unexpectedly. Yves handled everything for me and promised that he would be my family from then on, always protecting me. But the good times didn’t last. On Oscar’s first birthday, Yves was suddenly arrested because his company had tax issues. I worked tirelessly to help him, even exhausting my family fortune, but he was still facing prison time. His elderly parents were ill, and Oscar was still just a baby. Yves had always been good to me. Once he went to prison, he would never be able to rebuild his career. After thinking all night, I made up my mind to take the blame for him. Tiffany returned during that time. She cried, saying her family had gone bankrupt and that she saw Yves as a brother and would always respect me. I softened and arranged for her to stay. Before going to prison, I asked Tiffany to take care of my family. I never imagined she would steal my husband.

My conversation with Yves was misunderstood by onlookers. Someone stared at me and asked, “Is she Mr. Whitman’s mistress?” “No! Isn’t she Mr. Whitman’s ex-wife?” “I heard Mr. Whitman say that when he had his accident at Christmas, she abandoned them and ran off with all their assets.” “She probably couldn’t make it on her own out there. Now that Mr. Whitman is successful, she’s back to cash in.” I looked at Yves in shock, trembling with anger. I had suffered for him, yet he told everyone I had abandoned them and taken all their assets. How ridiculous! I had staked my future on this selfish, unreliable man! Then, those people turned to Tiffany with flattering tones, “Ms. Mitchell, you’ve been by Mr. Whitman’s side all along, helping him through the hard times.” She smiled smugly, feigning modesty with a wave of her hand. “Please, don’t mention it. We’re friends after all. “After the party ends, I’ll give her some money to help her get by.” Then she leaned close to my ear and whispered mockingly, “You used to look down on me. Now your man is mine, and the Whitman family will belong to my son in the future.” I looked up in disbelief and demanded, “When did I ever look down on you?” Tiffany glared at me hatefully and growled, “You always acted like you were giving me charity. Did you really think I wanted your handouts? Everything you had, I’m going to take it all!” I pushed her away, feeling a bitter amusement. I had pitied Tiffany for her poor background. Because of that, whenever I bought something for myself, I would get one for her too. I never imagined my kindness would be misinterpreted as charity. Just as I was about to speak, the ballroom doors suddenly opened. My uncle, Yohan Wilson, walked in with steady steps. Dressed in an impeccable custom suit, he carried himself with the authority of someone in power. We hadn’t seen each other for three Christmases, but he looked the same as before. A glimmer of hope rose within me, but Tiffany affectionately went forward to take Yohan’s arm, saying he was her godfather. “Yohan, you’re here!” I stood frozen, not understanding when Tiffany had made Yohan her godfather. Yves quickly went to greet him. “Yohan, you’ve arrived just in time. Leah misunderstood my relationship with Tiffany. She caused a scene at the party and even hit Tiffany.” My face darkened. Yohan glanced at me and snapped impatiently, “Leah, you’re making a scene in front of everyone over such a trivial matter. You’re bringing shame to our family! “The Whitman family has close business ties with our family. If you ruin this partnership, can you take responsibility?” Tiffany cried even harder, sobbing, “Yohan, Ms. Wilson just insulted Yves and hit me.” Yohan’s expression grew even darker, his gaze cutting into me like a knife. “The Whitman family is now a powerful family, and many of our family’s business ventures depend on cooperation with them! “Apologize immediately!” I felt bitter. “Yohan, why won’t you listen to my explanation?” Yohan snorted coldly, his face full of contempt. “Explanation? At Christmas, you ran off with the money out of vanity. If it weren’t for Yves’s generosity, would we even be standing here like this?” I controlled my anger and said, word by word, “I did nothing wrong. As for the truth, are you just going to believe Yves’ one-sided story?” Yohan was furious. Tiffany stepped forward innocently, sobbing, “Leah, Yves and I are truly in love. Please stop making things difficult for us.” I just laughed coldly and said, “Is that so? But Yves and I aren’t even divorced. How is it that you already have a child together?” Despite his guilt, Yves remained defiant, “You’re my wife. However, during my three most difficult Christmases, you weren’t by my side. All that time, Tiffany was taking care of me. I only made a mistake that any man would make.” My gaze turned icy. “Do you remember the agreement you signed in front of my parents?” Yves suddenly panicked. “What agreement?” I stared at him, answering slowly, “That if you ever cheated, you would voluntarily transfer all your assets to me. Yves, you solemnly swore in front of my parents that you would never betray me!” Yves seemed to remember now, his face darkening. “Your parents are dead. That agreement means nothing.” Hannah also complained angrily, “The Whitman family fortune will belong to Brian in the future, not a penny will go to a bitch like you! Your son has been sent away. Yves promised the Whitman family would go to Brian. Don’t you dare covet it!” My heart suddenly ached. I demanded, “What did you say?!” Tiffany stood up straight, pretending to be wronged, “Leah, ever since Oscar found out I was pregnant, he kept deliberately bumping into me, trying to harm my baby. When he wouldn’t stop despite warnings, Yves disciplined him and sent him to a juvenile detention center.” Oscar is my son. I had thought he was in his room, but I never imagined he’d been sent away. I was instantly furious, grabbing Yves’ clothes tightly. “Where is my son?” Yves frowned at me and forcefully pushed me away. “Oscar has a vicious mind despite his young age. He kept hurting Tiffany, so I sent him to a juvenile detention center. If he doesn’t learn to behave, does he want to end up in prison like you? Tiffany and I are doing this for his own good!” I was in disbelief, nearly losing my balance. My beloved Oscar had been bullied by this family! I gritted my teeth, finally unable to contain my anger. “Yves, I went to prison for you. Yet you torture your own son because of Tiffany. How dare you! You faithless coward, do you believe I’ll take everything you’ve done to court!” Yves hadn’t expected me to say such things in the main hall. His face turned completely dark. “Leah, your parents are both dead, and you’ve enjoyed the Whitman family’s wealth for so long. Even if you went to prison for me, it was your duty! You raised Oscar to be so ill-mannered. Tiffany kindly helped discipline him, yet you show no gratitude. Besides, he’s my son. It’s perfectly reasonable for me to discipline him!” Tiffany also spoke in a delicate voice, though her eyes were venomous, “Leah, you were the one who asked me to take good care of your family! How can you blame us now!” Their words made my chest hurt with rage. I wanted to kill them. Just then, a familiar childish voice came from behind me. “Mom, you’re finally back. I’ve missed you so much!”

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My husband, Ivan Sutton, mysteriously dies every time on our Christmas wedding anniversary. To save him, I’ve been reborn ninety-nine times. On my ninety-ninth resurrection, I exhausted myself trying to convince Ivan of all this before our anniversary. He embraced me and promised, “Molly, thank you. If I survive, I’ll be good to you!” Later, in a sudden car accident, I was impaled by a steel rod while protecting Ivan. He held me with tearful eyes, shouting, “Save her! Take my life if you have to!” Everyone thought Ivan deeply loved me. But when I woke up after my near-death experience, I suddenly heard Ivan’s thoughts. He looked concerned, but was thinking with contempt, “I’ve faked my death ninety-nine times, and she still manages to survive. She’s so lucky!” I was shocked, thinking I must have misheard. But his next thought devastated me. He thought, “What method of death should I use this time to escape and run away with Lauren? Lauren’s already pregnant, and I can’t let her live in hardship. Molly has already died ninety-nine times to save me, one more time won’t matter!” All along, Ivan had been cheating. Everything he did was to run away with his mistress. If that’s the case, I’ll turn his carefully planned fake death into a real one. Seeing my silence, Ivan pretended to be concerned and held my hand. “Molly, are you feeling unwell? I was terrified then, I thought you…” The next second, he impatiently thought, “This is so annoying. She’s wasting my time, Lauren must be getting anxious.” I pulled my hand away, making the IV needle in my hand sting slightly. “Ivan, I told you I would make sure you survive.” Ivan tenderly kissed my face. “Molly, thank you. I promise I won’t let you suffer anymore.” I pretended to be moved. Ivan sneered in his mind, “Fool! The next time I fake my death, I’ll make you disappear completely. Don’t think you can stop Lauren and me from running away.” I felt breathless. Before I could speak, a ringtone sounded. Ivan hurriedly glanced at the caller and immediately hung up. But a message notification chimed. He looked at it, unconsciously swallowing, desire flashing in his eyes. Putting away his phone, Ivan gave me a troubled look. “Molly, there’s an emergency at the company. I need to handle it.” With that, he left. After Ivan left, I contacted a private investigator to follow him, only to discover he went to a villa. In the video, I saw a beautiful pregnant woman welcoming Ivan inside. I stared intently at the footage. This villa was my coming-of-age gift, which I rarely used because of its remote location. Ivan had offered to rent it out for me, and I agreed without giving it much thought. Now it had become the place where he kept his mistress. I forced myself to calm down and called a real estate agent. “Hello, I want to sell a villa at a greatly reduced price, to be sold today.” Soon after, the agent called me back. “Ms. Marsh, the people inside won’t open the door. I can’t bring clients in.” I smirked coldly, “I don’t know who’s inside. Just threaten them with trespassing charges to make them leave.” Half an hour later, I received a signed sales contract for the house. I clutched the contract thinking, “This is just the beginning.” Three days later, I checked out of the hospital early and tried to contact Ivan, but he wouldn’t answer his phone. As soon as I opened the door, I saw a man and woman sitting intimately on the couch, as I expected. Seeing me, Ivan hurriedly stood up. “Molly? Why didn’t you tell me you were being discharged?” I feigned surprise. “Ivan, who is she?” Ivan’s face turned unnatural, but he tried to appear calm as he came over to support me. “This is my cousin, Lauren Flynn. She’s pregnant, but her boyfriend won’t acknowledge it. She has nowhere to stay, so I thought she could stay with us for a few days.” In reality, he was thinking, “It’s all because of this damn woman who suddenly sold the house, leaving Lauren homeless! Anyway, once she dies for me, all her assets will belong to Lauren and me!” Lauren pleaded pitifully, “Molly, please let me stay here for a few days. I promise I won’t disturb you and Ivan.” I had no patience for their performance, so I smiled and said, “In that case, you can stay.” Ivan looked very touched. “Molly, you’re so considerate.” This time I didn’t hear his thoughts; perhaps he thought my response suited his plans perfectly. That night, I woke up to find Ivan wasn’t in the bedroom. I walked out and saw the bathroom light on, with sounds of lovemaking coming from inside. “This is so exciting. Aren’t you afraid Molly will find out?” “What’s there to fear? She loves me so much she’s willing to die for me. She’ll believe anything I say! Lauren, three days from now, I’ll take the fake death drug early, and you’ll give me the antidote before Molly takes me away.” Lauren moaned and asked, “Are you sure it’s foolproof?” “Don’t worry, that fool falls for it every time.” Hatred surged within me. I sacrificed everything to save Ivan, yet he betrayed and insulted me. I slowly composed myself and knocked on the door. “Ivan, are you in there? Why do I hear a woman’s voice?”

The bathroom fell silent instantly. After a while, Ivan opened the door wrapped in a towel. Seeing me, he looked surprised. “Honey, what are you doing here? It’s just me in the bathroom…” Ivan’s tone was calm, but I noticed his trembling fingertips. I pretended to be casual, “Is that so?” I moved to push the door open. In the next second, Ivan grabbed my wrist. “Molly, you just got out of the hospital. You should rest early.” I didn’t expose his trick. “Okay.” My interruption killed Ivan’s mood to continue having sex with Lauren. Back in our bedroom, as soon as Ivan lay down, he started caressing me. I felt disgusted and avoided his touch. “I just got out of the hospital. I don’t want to do it.” Ivan’s enthusiasm dampened. He felt dissatisfied but still pretended to be considerate, “Then rest well and go to sleep.” But his inner voice said, “If I hadn’t been interrupted earlier, I wouldn’t even want to touch you. You’re nothing compared to Lauren. Not pretty enough, not a good body either. No man would be interested in you except me!” With my eyes closed, tears slid down from the corners of my eyes. We had loved each other for many Christmases and been married for ten. The man who once deeply loved me no longer existed. Ivan thought I was asleep and quietly got out of bed, thinking, “I can’t hold back anymore. I’ll find Lauren to help me take care of this.” Hearing the door gently close, I laughed at myself mockingly. The first time Ivan was close to death, I had been kidnapped. He begged the kidnappers not to hurt me, offering himself in exchange for my life. At that time, Ivan’s eyes were red with tears as he told me to live on bravely. I was nearly broken when I learned from the police that Ivan had indeed been killed. I lived like a walking corpse, wishing I had been the one to die, until on the seventh day after Ivan’s death, I suddenly found myself reborn three days before our wedding anniversary. I thought fate had given me a chance to save my beloved, so I risked everything to save Ivan, but I could never succeed. So I kept traveling through these fragments of time, repeating everything over and over. What I never expected was that in the end, it was all a scam. Looking back now, perhaps fate thought I was too stupid and gave me a chance to discover the truth. Early the next morning, I woke up to continuous notifications of purchases at makeup and clothing stores from the supplementary credit card I had given Ivan. I let out a cold laugh. Ivan was certainly generous, using my card to spend on Lauren. Taking a deep breath, I called to freeze that card. Using my money to keep a mistress? Impossible. An hour later, Ivan returned home with a red-eyed Lauren. Seeing me eating breakfast, he angrily demanded, “Why did you freeze the card you gave me? Lauren was in the middle of shopping, and she couldn’t pay! The store clerks laughed at her!” I met Ivan’s angry eyes and heard his thoughts. “I was planning to withdraw the money to use after I left her, and this bitch froze it! Could she have discovered something?” I smiled and said helplessly, “By the way, all my cards have been frozen and won’t be usable for a few days.” Lauren suddenly blurted out, “Didn’t you sell the house yesterday? How come your cards are frozen today?” I frowned and looked at her coldly. “How do you know I sold the house yesterday?”

Lauren froze. Ivan quickly explained, “Yesterday when I planned to have Lauren stay at your villa, I found out you’d already sold the house.” I forced a smile. “I see.” I noticed Lauren caressing her swollen belly and pretended to be envious. “I’m so jealous. Ivan and I have been married for ten years without getting pregnant.” Lauren smiled, looking at me smugly. “I got pregnant less than a year after getting together with my boyfriend. Don’t worry, Molly. Ivan loves you so much, I’m sure you’ll get pregnant too.” Ivan’s contemptuous thoughts immediately followed. “Molly will never have my child! I put drugs in her milk every day specifically to prevent her from getting pregnant!” I was stunned, my gaze falling on the half-empty glass of milk on the table. For ten years, I hadn’t gotten pregnant, and whenever I wanted to go to the hospital for a check-up, Ivan would stop me with loving concern. He said there was no rush to have a baby, that having me was enough. Only now did I understand that Ivan had been scheming against me all along. I suppressed my emotions and said, “I need to go out for a while.” Ivan pretended to be reluctant, but inwardly he was already celebrating my departure. After giving him one long look, I left and headed straight to the hospital. After completing the examination, I anxiously asked the doctor, “I’ve been married for ten years but haven’t been able to get pregnant.” The doctor carefully examined my test results and frowned. “You’ve been taking contraceptives all this time. How could you possibly get pregnant? Moreover, due to the long-term medication, even if you stop now, it will be very difficult for you to conceive in the future.” My suspicions confirmed, my heart ached as tears welled up in my eyes. Even though Ivan had a mistress, I never doubted that he had once loved me. After all, throughout these years, his tenderness and the love in his eyes had never changed. Yet beneath that facade, he had been drugging me for years. Leaving the consultation room, I was about to exit the building when I glimpsed a familiar figure. Looking closer, it was Ivan. Hatred surged within me as I quietly followed him. After carefully surveying his surroundings, Ivan quickly entered a small room. I crept closer, hiding behind the partially open door, and saw Ivan talking with a man wearing a baseball cap. Ivan spoke in a hushed, urgent tone. “Did you bring the stuff?” The man in the cap pulled out a small black vial from his pocket and handed it to him. “Mr. Sutton, both the antidote and the death-simulating drug are inside. After taking it, your pulse and breathing will stop, but you’ll still be able to hear everything around you.” Ivan took the vial. “This is the down payment. You’ll get the rest when it’s done.” The man took the bank card and left. Ivan examined the vial carefully, thinking smugly, “Tomorrow I’ll take the fake death drug and pretend to die of heart failure. After Molly commits suicide to save me, I can run away with Lauren!” I stared intently at the fake death drug in Ivan’s hand, a wave of grief washing over me. So this was how I had been deceived every time. I clenched my fists and turned to leave, but accidentally stepped on a can, making a crisp noise. Ivan quickly pocketed the vial and shouted in my direction, “Who’s there?” I was startled and quickly left before Ivan could discover me. By the time I had composed myself and returned home, Ivan was already back, sitting on the couch as if nothing had happened. “Molly, what took you so long?” I forced myself to tear up and hugged him. “Ivan, tomorrow is our wedding anniversary. Let’s just stay home and celebrate. You’ll be safe that way.” Ivan appeared deeply touched. “Whatever you want.” But in his mind, he was thinking: “You fool, tomorrow is when I’ll finally be rid of you!” A cold glint flashed in my eyes. If Ivan wanted to fake his death to escape, I’d make his fake death a real one. The next day, I was awakened by Lauren’s scream. When I rushed downstairs, I found Ivan lying motionless on the floor. Lauren pretended to be frightened, crying, “What’s wrong with Ivan? I’ve been calling him for ages but he won’t wake up.” I cried out in shock, checked Ivan’s breathing, then collapsed onto him in disbelief, sobbing. “Ivan, you were right beside me all this time. Why did you still die? How am I supposed to live without you? Why couldn’t I protect you?” I frantically called an ambulance. Soon, Ivan was rushed to the hospital. After the surgery light went off, the doctor came out with a regretful expression. “The patient has been confirmed dead. Cause of death was sudden cardiac arrest.” He handed me the death certificate. I accepted it with grief, asking repeatedly, “Is my husband really dead?” This doctor was the one who had conspired with them to fake Ivan’s death. He avoided my gaze, offering false consolation: “Mr. Sutton has passed away. Please accept my condolences.” I immediately collapsed to the floor in apparent devastation, my face pale, looking exactly like someone unable to accept such a shock. At that moment, Ivan’s body was wheeled out. Lauren wiped away fake tears and approached me. “Molly, let’s take Ivan to the funeral home.” I just shook my head tearfully. “Let’s send him directly to the crematorium. Since Ivan is confirmed dead, I can reset time and save him.” I immediately called the crematorium. Others might think I was talking nonsense from excessive grief, but Lauren clearly knew about my ability to reset time. She panicked and tried to dissuade me. “Molly, your parents haven’t even arrived yet. Surely you should let them see Ivan one last time.” I refused with a pained expression. “Seeing Ivan’s body would only devastate them. Besides, I don’t have time to wait. I need Ivan cremated so I can reset time! Don’t you want him to live again?” Lauren froze. I had the staff load Ivan into the vehicle. At the crematorium, I immediately signed up for a membership and requested priority cremation for Ivan. The staff eagerly agreed and hurried to have Ivan’s body unloaded. Lauren finally broke down, begging me: “Ivan is just pretending to be dead! He’s still alive! I’m pregnant with his child. We planned to fake his death so we could run away together!” I looked at her pitifully. “You must be overcome with grief. Aren’t you Ivan’s cousin?” Lauren looked desperate. Seeing I didn’t believe her, she frantically tried to stop the staff and pulled out an antidote from her pocket, shouting, “This is the antidote! I can bring Ivan back to life!” Other families waiting grew impatient and urged, “What are you doing? We’re waiting! If you’re not going to cremate him, then leave!” I firmly restrained Lauren, preventing her from approaching the cremation chamber. Only after Ivan was placed in the cremation chamber did I explain to the waiting people, “She’s my husband’s cousin. She can’t accept his death.” Everyone around us suddenly understood and moved to hold Lauren back, consoling her: “We know you’re heartbroken, but now that your cousin is gone, he needs to be cremated and laid to rest.” “No, he’s still alive! You can’t burn him!” Lauren struggled desperately, lost her balance, and accidentally hit the ignition button. Flames instantly erupted, engulfing Ivan. Lauren’s eyes widened as she screamed, “No!”

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On the second Christmas and Mother’s Day since I began closed research at a national security agency, I requested a video call with my mother, Malia Frazier. “Bryson, when are you coming back?” Malia asked. I noticed that Malia had aged considerably, and what upset me more was the bruise at the corner of her eye. Looking closer, I saw she was wearing old clothes, and her hair was thin and gray. Just as I was feeling concerned, I received a message from the caregiver Thea asking for money. She said Malia needed a new wheelchair, costing $200,000. But Malia had never had problems with her legs, so why would she suddenly need a wheelchair? I called the nursing home, but the director impatiently said it was normal for elderly people to need wheelchairs at Christmas time. Sensing something was wrong, I pulled some strings to access the nursing home’s surveillance footage, and what I saw filled me with rage. I returned to my dorm from the lab and quickly called Malia. “Bryson, when are you coming back? I miss you.” Seeing Malia’s red eyes on my phone screen, I felt instant guilt. Malia had raised my sister and me on her own, and now I couldn’t personally take care of her because I was busy with work. Suddenly, I noticed Malia cautiously glancing outside. The bruise at the corner of her eye was obvious, which alarmed me. I realized something was wrong. The clothes Malia was wearing were ones I’d seen a few Christmases ago. They had a large hole in the waist back then, which was why she had put them away, but now she was wearing them again. Thinking Malia was just being frugal about buying new clothes, I fought back tears and said, “Mom, don’t wear old clothes anymore. I have money now, so you don’t need to save. Be good to yourself. I earn money for you to spend.” She shook her head hesitantly and was about to speak when there was a distinct noise from her end. The next second, the video call was abruptly disconnected. A moment later, Thea called me. “Mr. Frazier, did you just call Mrs. Malia Frazier? Perfect timing. Please transfer some more money. Mrs. Malia Frazier has run out of health supplements, and she’s also asking for a new wheelchair.” I frowned and asked, “What happened to the $300,000 I sent last month?” “Mr. Frazier, my friend happens to be in the medical equipment business. He’s willing to sell us the best wheelchair at the lowest price, just $200,000.” Are wheelchairs that expensive now? And I remembered Malia had always been healthy, so why would she suddenly need a wheelchair? Sensing something was wrong, I immediately called my sister, Nicole Frazier. The background on her end was noisy, like she was in a bar. Nicole impatiently said, “Isn’t it normal for elderly people to have difficulty walking? If Mom wants it, just buy it.” A voice came from her end: “Nicole, what are you doing? Come back and continue…” Before I could hear clearly, the call was suddenly disconnected. I stared at my dark phone screen, deep in thought. Nicole’s attitude now was completely different from when she initially suggested moving Malia to the nursing home. Back then, she said she would take care of our mother carefully, but Malia wasn’t doing well, while Nicole was out partying at bars. Remembering news about elderly people being abused by caregivers in nursing homes, I felt extremely uneasy and immediately asked my supervisor for leave to go home. On the way, I searched online for the medical equipment company Thea mentioned, but found nothing beyond its name. So I contacted a friend in the industry. Soon, I received my friend’s reply. Reading the message, my face immediately darkened. [This is a shell company disguised as a medical equipment seller, but they actually sell insurance. This company used to be a housekeeping service and made the news for scamming consolation money.] I quickly asked: [What’s consolation money?] My friend replied: [It’s when employers hire caregivers for elderly people, and if the elderly person dies accidentally, they must pay the caregivers their full wages. Some caregivers deliberately cause the death of elderly people to scam this money.] I immediately sensed danger. But Thea was introduced by Nicole, who had vouched for the caregiver’s character. I had even paid over $2 million in entrance fees for the nursing home Nicole recommended, with annual fees calculated separately. Nicole had handled everything. Could she have deliberately arranged for a malicious caregiver to look after our mother?

The news of my return home was communicated by the government to the official institutions in my hometown. The mayor immediately planned to send special security personnel to receive me, but I declined. I parked my car near the nursing home and entered alone, without letting the security guards follow me. It was lunchtime, and I remembered Malia’s room number. After notifying the doorman, I entered the residential area of the nursing home. But Malia wasn’t in her room. Only a luxurious coat lay on the bed. I picked it up and examined it carefully—it wasn’t Malia’s size. Suddenly, I heard familiar coughing from the staircase. Malia had a lung condition; my sister and I had fallen asleep to that cough since childhood. I immediately ran to the staircase and found Malia curled up asleep in the narrow hallway. In that moment, my heart shattered. I approached carefully, but before I could call out to her, she jolted awake. Malia looked at me warily, as if I were a stranger. Confused, I asked, “What’s wrong, Mom?” Malia stared at me dully, as if she couldn’t see me clearly. I quickly took her hand and repeated, “Mom! Don’t you recognize me? I’m Bryson.” Only then did she finally recognize me. She reached out to touch my face, tears sliding down her deeply wrinkled cheeks. “Son…” I pressed my face against her palm. “Yes, it’s me. I’m back.” Malia had lost so much weight, and her temples, which hadn’t had much gray hair before, were now completely white. Fighting back tears, I asked, “Mom, why are you sleeping here?” Malia hesitated, about to answer when a strange woman’s surprised voice came from behind us. “Mr. Frazier, you’re back? Why didn’t you inform us in advance?” I noticed Malia shrinking at the sound of this voice, looking frightened. I turned around to see Thea standing there with a coat hanger. I demanded, “What kind of care is this? Did I hire you to leave my mother sleeping on the floor?” Thea was visibly flustered for a moment, explaining awkwardly, “Mr. Frazier, you misunderstand. Mrs. Malia Frazier felt hot and insisted on sleeping on the staircase.” She shouted at Malia, “Isn’t that right, Mrs. Malia Frazier?” Malia nodded quickly, but never dared to look at her. I found this strange. Malia had always been kind, but never this submissive. Thea suddenly approached and grabbed Malia’s hand. “Mrs. Malia Frazier, let me help you inside.” At that moment, Malia gripped my hand tightly. I noticed Malia’s entire body trying to avoid the coat hanger in Thea’s hand. If I hadn’t been supporting her, she would have fallen. I pushed Thea away. “I’ll stay here with my mother. You can go.” Thea withdrew her hand but kept staring at Malia. I could feel Malia’s hand trembling in mine. Thea added, “Mrs. Malia Frazier has been talking nonsense lately. Don’t mind her if you hear anything strange.” My dissatisfaction peaked, and I said impatiently, “Whatever my mother and I discuss is none of your business. Leave!” Thea left awkwardly. Once I was sure she was gone, I carefully held Malia’s hand. “Mom, why were you sleeping on the staircase? And what happened to your face?” But Malia just shook her head fearfully, unwilling to say anything more. I could only change the subject. “Has Nicole visited you recently?” At the mention of my sister, Malia’s face froze for a moment, but she nodded. “Yes, Nicole visits me often.” Yet her expression didn’t soften at all as she said this. Seeing her like this, my heart sank. I suddenly realized that Malia wasn’t being properly cared for. If that was the case, I’d rather take an ordinary job and stay by Malia’s side to care for her myself.

I helped Malia back to her room to rest. On the way, I noticed she was limping badly, walking with great difficulty. It seemed she really needed a wheelchair. But I felt the wheelchair issue wasn’t so simple, so after Malia fell asleep, I decided to find the director to ask about it. The nursing home’s layout was confusing, and after walking for quite some time, I ended up near the kitchen. Nicole had handled our mother’s admission paperwork. She had exaggerated how wonderful this place was, but I hadn’t inspected it myself yet. Since I had the opportunity now, I decided to walk in and take a look. The kitchen wasn’t as clean as I had imagined. Garbage and dirty water were visible everywhere on the floor. The stoves were covered in grime, looking like they hadn’t been cleaned in ages. Mealtime at the nursing home was early, and several cooks had already started preparing food. When they saw me enter, they mistook me for a staff member, and one cook told me to hurry and take the prepared dishes to the dining hall. I was about to explain when I noticed the food intended for the elderly residents was placed right next to an opened bag of rat poison. I couldn’t contain my anger and pointed at the rat poison, demanding: “How can you put food for people next to rat poison?” The cook responded impatiently: “Better than finding rat droppings in their food, right? Besides, they’re about to die anyway, so what does it matter if they die from this?” I couldn’t believe my ears. “How can you be so cruel? Don’t you have parents of your own?” The cook immediately became angry and told me to get out, cursing me for meddling. Several people pushed me out of the kitchen, which made me even more furious. I immediately called Nicole. Suppressing my anger, I asked, “Nicole, have you been visiting Mom?” Nicole yawned, her tone dismissive: “Of course, I just visited Mom yesterday. This nursing home is so nice, I’d like to move in myself. Why do you always worry about so many things? Why don’t you give me more money so I can hire more people to take care of Mom?” Finding this ridiculous, I hung up and decided to take Malia away today. On my way back, I passed by the elderly residents’ lounge downstairs, where the scene once again infuriated me. An elderly man was tied to a wheelchair, crying out in pain, while a caregiver sat with legs crossed, browsing on her phone. When annoyed by the noise, the caregiver skillfully slapped the old man. Then she took a dirty diaper from a nearby trash can and pressed it directly against the old man’s face, forcibly silencing him. I couldn’t help but intervene: “What are you doing!” The caregiver heard my voice, immediately released her grip, and turned to look at me with terror on her face. I yanked her away and untied the ropes binding the old man to the wheelchair. While I was distracted, the caregiver quickly ran away, but I had already memorized her face. After being rescued, the old man continued sobbing. Seeing him made me wonder if my mother had suffered the same treatment. I immediately asked, “Do you know Malia who lives in Room 6100 on the sixth floor? Is this how caregivers normally treat all of you?” The old man struggled to speak: “I don’t know Malia. I only know there’s an elderly woman on the sixth floor whose son supposedly works for the government. Once I saw a caregiver beating her mercilessly with a clothes hanger. She was covered in blood.” I pressed further: “What about her family? Has no one ever visited her?” The old man tried hard to remember: “I think a wealthy-looking woman came yesterday. But it seemed like she was there to demand money from the old woman.” Hearing this, I had to clench my teeth to suppress my rage. I had transferred so much money to Nicole every month, asking her to look after our mother and buy her gifts. Was this how she was treating our mother? Finally, I called Calvin, the police officer waiting outside: “Calvin, come in. I need your help.” Calvin quickly found me using the tracker on my body. I said, “Calvin, please find a technician to retrieve all the surveillance footage from this nursing home over the past two Christmases.” I needed to gather crucial evidence for the police. This nursing home’s behavior was absolutely despicable, and I couldn’t let them off easily. The technician quickly sent over the videos. I located the footage from Room 6100 and witnessed something that filled me with rage. On the night Malia first moved into the nursing home, Thea dragged her to the bathroom and locked her inside just because Malia’s coughing had woken her up. As I continued watching, I discovered that Thea frequently beat and verbally abused Malia. Even when Malia cried and begged her to stop, she continued to assault the defenseless elderly woman. Not once did anyone intervene to stop this abuse. What broke my heart even more was that over the past Christmas season, my sister Nicole had only visited our mother once—yesterday. She even discarded her luxurious coat in disgust just because our mother had touched her sleeve. By the end of the footage, I was filled with rage and guilt. If I hadn’t taken time off to come back, I would never have known even if Malia had been tortured to death, and I would have continued sending them money. Our mother raised us, yet Nicole not only showed no gratitude but actively pushed her into this nightmare. I sent the surveillance footage to the mayor, then returned to the room to help Malia pack her belongings so I could take her home. Just as I reached the doorway, I heard Nicole’s shrill voice: “Why do you need so much pension money when you’re already living in a nursing home? Sign the papers now!” I burst into the room to see Nicole directing two male orderlies to restrain Malia and force her to sign. Malia’s face was streaked with tears, her hands trembling uncontrollably. Without thinking, I kicked the two men away. “Get away from my mom!” I shielded Malia behind me and glared at Nicole. “Is this how you take care of our mother when I’m not around?” Nicole looked terrified. “Bryson, why are you back so suddenly?” I roared, “If I hadn’t come back, what else would you have done to Mom? Steal her pension? You’re heartless!” She tried to defend herself: “I was just going to hold onto it for Mom’s sake.” I cut her off. “I’m taking Mom away from here, and I won’t give you another cent!” Nicole immediately panicked. “Bryson, have you lost your mind? Mom doesn’t have much time left. After she dies, this money will come to us anyway. What’s wrong with me taking some now?” I didn’t want to argue about such a ridiculous issue. I lifted Malia onto my back and prepared to leave. Then, I heard Nicole’s voice behind me: “That’s him! He’s causing trouble here. Don’t let him leave!” I felt disappointed and incredulous. Nicole had brought a group of thugs. She stood behind them, looking at me as if I were her enemy. Malia struggled to get down from my back, desperately trying to protect me. “Don’t hurt my son! Beat me instead if you must!” I held Malia tightly and stared coldly at Nicole. “Nicole, think carefully. If you do this, we’re no longer siblings.” Nicole stared back intensely. “You can leave, but only if Mom gives me the money.” “Absolutely not!” Nicole’s expression darkened. “Grab him. If he dies, I’ll take responsibility!” One man immediately lunged at me, but Calvin, who had been hiding nearby, suddenly appeared and pinned him to the ground. The group was startled by Calvin’s appearance and froze momentarily. Nicole quickly said, “Don’t be afraid. There are only three of them. Attack together!” With so many opponents, Calvin could only focus on protecting me. In my carelessness, I suddenly realized Malia was no longer on my back. I anxiously looked back and saw Nicole dragging Malia toward a window in the hallway. Malia, with tears in her eyes, said to her, “Nicole, I’m your mother…” “Only money is my mother!” Nicole snapped. As she finished speaking, the old security window behind Malia suddenly came loose. In the next second, Nicole, with a twisted expression, pushed Malia forward. Malia immediately fell out the window.

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On the day Ethan Moore and I are supposed to marry, his adoptive sister, Hazel Moore, threatens to jump off a building. Ethan abandons me in my wedding dress and leaves me jilted for her. As the guests watch me mockingly, I boldly announce, “I’ll marry anyone who dares walk down this aisle to me!” Three years later, Ethan returns to the Moore residence with Hazel. I’m seated on the couch and enjoying some oatmeal while watching TV. Ethan stares at my baby bump and snarls, “Who’s the father of that child in your belly?” I sip my oatmeal and smile faintly. “A member of the Moore family, of course.” *** Ethan Moore stormed over, his face twisted with rage as he yanked me off the couch. “Shameless! I left with Hazel on our wedding day. I haven’t stepped foot in this place for three years. How could that child in your belly be mine?” I almost laughed. I never said it was his. He wasn’t the only man in the Moore family. “Of course, it’s not your child. You’re not even worthy of being his father,” I said. Hazel Moore’s face twisted in shock. “Audrey Smith, even if Ethan ran away from the wedding, he still left you with the title of Mrs. Moore. You’ve been living a life of luxury in the Moore family. How could you shamelessly get pregnant with someone else’s child?” I glanced at her. “You’re the adopted daughter of the Moore family, and you had the nerve to seduce your own brother. If we’re talking about being shameless, who could possibly beat the two of you?” Hazel’s voice turned pitiful as she looked at Ethan. “Ethan, for the past three years, we’ve kept things respectful. Yet, she’s carrying someone else’s child and cheated on you.” The moment he heard her words, Ethan’s fury exploded. He raised his hand and slapped me hard across the face. “You filthy woman! You get knocked up by someone else and still dare to drag me and Hazel into it? Get out now!” he shouted. The sharp pain bloomed across my cheek. My head went blank for a second from the force of the slap. Ethan ran off with Hazel three years ago, leaving me alone to face all the whispers and laughter at our wedding. Driven by rage, I called for a groom on the spot. It was his uncle, Jeremiah Moore, who stepped up and married me that same day. In Beverton City, Jeremiah was known as the Frost King. Everyone has treated me with the utmost respect ever since I married him. After I got pregnant, he spoiled me even more. He wouldn’t let a strand of my hair be harmed. Blood would have been spilled if he had known what Ethan had just done. To avoid a full-blown family tragedy and for the sake of the child in my belly, I said coldly, “If you both leave now, I’ll pretend this never happened.” However, they didn’t appreciate the offer. Hazel lunged forward and yanked my hair. “Ethan, this woman is scared. She wants us to leave now so she can use that child to take everything from the Moores!” Ethan snapped, “So that’s what this is about! Well, I’m not letting it happen!” I twisted away from Hazel’s grip and said coldly, “David disowned you the day you two ran off. You had nothing to do with this family from that moment on.” Hazel let out a scoff. “That was just Grandpa venting. Ethan’s the only grandson of the Moore family. Do you really think he’s going to stay disowned forever?” Ethan’s expression turned smug. “Grandpa already said everything belongs to me.” I placed a hand over my belly, my voice icy. “Not anymore. This child is also a member of the Moore family.” I thought I’d made myself perfectly clear. However, Ethan’s eyes flared with rage as he stared at me. “So you’re planning to pass that illegitimate child off as a Moore? I’ll teach you a lesson now!” His slap landed even harder this time. I clutched my belly as I collapsed to the floor. Upon seeing the twisted hatred on their faces, panic surged inside me. I couldn’t let them hurt the baby. I said desperately, “He is not an illegitimate child. He is…”

Before I could say another word, Ethan bent down and grabbed the shattered porcelain bowl of oatmeal off the floor. He shoved the shards and oatmeal straight into my mouth. “Hazel and I have struggled to survive for the past three years. Yet, you’ve been leeching off the Moore family, living in comfort with that child in your belly! Well, let me make sure you get your fill today!” he barked. I instantly choked, unable to speak. The sharp pieces of porcelain cut into the inside of my mouth, and blood gushed across my tongue. I raised a hand to resist, but Hazel stomped her stiletto heel down hard on my hand. Pain shot up my arm, and my hand trembled uncontrollably. I couldn’t even cry out. Ethan spat in my face after stuffing every bit of that oatmeal into my mouth. He then clapped his hands and stood up. Hazel’s stiletto heel shifted toward my swollen belly. Terror gripped me. I grabbed her ankle with all the strength I had, trying desperately to stop her from stepping down. Jeremiah has been infertile since birth. We finally conceived this child after we visited the best doctors across the country and abroad for three years. Hazel looked down at me with a sneer. “Audrey, you look just like a dog protecting her pup. Pathetic.” Ethan frowned at my belly. “If word gets out that I’ve been cheated on like this, how am I supposed to show my face in Beverton City? Step on it, Hazel. Crush that illegitimate child before it’s born!” I shook my head like mad. Blood and vomit spilled from my mouth as I choked out the words. “This baby… This baby is Jeremiah’s…” Ethan froze before bursting into a maniacal laugh. “Are you kidding me, Audrey? Everyone in Beverton knows my uncle has never touched a woman. He can’t even have kids! Right now, I’m the only one left in the Moore family to carry on the bloodline. That’s why Grandpa desperately wanted me to marry you and have kids.” Hazel chimed in, “Ethan is the only heir. Grandpa even cut off all his cards to force him back home and inherit the estate. Audrey, you’re beyond shameless. How dare you drag Uncle Jeremiah into it after we’ve exposed you?” Ethan had eloped with Hazel for three years and hadn’t contacted the family once. His grandpa, David Moore, had given up on him completely. He had frozen all Ethan’s accounts because he wanted to disown him. But now, clearly, neither of them was in the right state of mind. To avoid provoking them, I didn’t argue back. I repeated, “I’m not lying. This baby really is Jeremiah’s. I’ll call him right now if you don’t believe me.” I covered my belly with one hand and reached for the phone on the table with the other. My baby and I would be safe if I could reach Jeremiah. He would come immediately to save me. But just as I grabbed the phone, Ethan snatched it from my hand and smashed it. The screen cracked into pieces, and I felt my heart sink with it. He grabbed my chin and said, “My uncle’s temper is unpredictable. Everyone in Beverton fears him. If he finds out I can’t even handle a cheating wife, he’ll think I’m worthless. He’ll never hand the company over to me. Audrey, that’s why you were trying to call him, right?” I shook my head frantically. “No, the baby is…” Before I could finish, Hazel stepped on my belly with the tip of her high heel. “Why are you even wasting time on this woman, Ethan? Let’s kill that baby and go earn some credit with Grandpa.” A wave of searing pain shot through my abdomen. I could feel the baby twisting in panic inside me, and terror—unlike anything I’d ever known—flooded my chest. I looked up at them, pleading. “Please… Don’t hurt my baby…” Hazel lifted her phone and aimed it at me, saying, “Get on your knees, bark like a dog, and say you’re filthy. Do that, and maybe I’ll spare your baby.”

For the sake of the child in my belly, I could no longer care about my pride or dignity. I turned and dropped to my knees. I let out two barking sounds, my voice trembling as I said, “I’m filthy.” Hazel leaned down as she curled her lips into a triumphant smile. “Audrey, when I once kneeled in front of you and begged you not to marry Ethan, did you ever imagine you’d end up like this?” Hazel had come to plead with me back then, saying she and Ethan were in love, and asked me to call off the engagement. The marriage between the Moore and the Smith families had been arranged by our elders, bound by countless business interests. If I were to end it, the blame would fall squarely on my family—we’d be the ones suffering the consequences. So, I rejected her request. I never thought she’d hold that grudge for this long. But I had no strength left to argue about the past. I looked up at them, pleading, “Please call an ambulance…” Ethan stomped down hard on my back. “Audrey, you really are shameless! You’d do anything for that disreputable child!” I was crushed to the ground, my belly slamming against the hard floor. Pain exploded across my belly like wildfire. “You said you’d spare the baby…” I muttered. Hazel’s tone was nonchalant as she remarked, “I said I’d let the child go. Ethan didn’t say a thing, did he?” “You’ve got some nerve to use that child and my name to lie your way into the Moore family. Do you think I’d let you off that easily? Dream on!” Ethan snapped. Ethan kicked me square in the stomach. Pain shot through me like lightning, and bright red blood began to stream down my legs. I could feel the baby in my belly stop moving bit by bit. Despair surged through me, and the hatred in my eyes as I looked at them cut deeper than a blade. “Ethan, Hazel, you’re going to regret it!” I shouted. Hazel stood next to Ethan, her gaze full of venom. “Ethan, she still doesn’t know how to repent. Clearly, she still hasn’t learned her lesson.” Ethan sneered. “We’ll see who ends up regretting this. Hazel, go get a rope.” Hazel understood instantly. She rummaged in the living room, returned with a rope, and walked toward me. I dragged my bloodied body and retreated. My eyes were filled with terror as I asked, “What are you doing?” But all I got in return were their faces twisted with excitement. They tied my hands and feet together. They then dragged me out of the house by the rope. Blood smeared the floor behind me in a long, terrible trail. They dragged me to the edge of the pool. Ethan kicked me into the water. I couldn’t move with my limbs bound, so I sank straight to the bottom in despair. The pool water rushed into my nose and mouth—I was suffocating. Just when I thought I was going to die, Ethan yanked the rope and pulled me back up. “Have you learned your lesson, Audrey? Do you dare to cheat on me again?” I gasped for air, but the pain in my abdomen kept sinking deeper and deeper. I had taken prenatal classes with Jeremiah. I knew what was happening. The trauma had triggered early labor. Although I knew the chances of saving the baby were slim, I couldn’t give up hope. I begged Ethan again. “I was wrong. I’ll never do it again. Please, spare me and the baby. I’m going into labor. Please call an ambulance. I’m begging you…” Ethan spat at me. “Even now, you’re still thinking about that child? You clearly haven’t learned a lesson! There’s no way I’m letting that child leave the Moore residence alive!” With that, he raised his foot again, ready to kick me back into the pool. I closed my eyes in despair. Fear of drowning filled my heart. Just then, the front door of the villa slammed open. Jeremiah rushed over, panic written all over his face as he shouted, “Stop right there!”

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