Author: Momo Chan

She was violated by her stepbrother, and the unbearable weight of it led her to self-harm until there wasn’t an inch of her body left untouched. She said, as long as I send her stepbrother to accompany her in the afterlife, she would allow me to continue using her body. When I saw her stepfather, I decided to send them both to the afterlife to be with her. It felt like someone was holding me underwater, my lungs running out of air, leaving me unable to breathe. A man’s soft, low voice echoed in my ears, “Chloe Watson, you better recognize who your master is.” Suddenly, I was yanked up by the collar, pulled out of the bathtub, fresh oxygen flooding my chest as I gasped for air. Water cascaded over my head, blurring my vision. I wiped my face and saw the one who had grabbed me: a boy with narrow, shadowed eyes and a tense jawline. He snickered. “Chloe Watson, are you trying to drown yourself?” Who’s Chloe Watson? I’m Olivia Dawner. I tried to speak, but my throat was so dry I couldn’t make a sound. The boy gave me a disgusted look and tossed me back into the tub. I glanced around. I was supposed to be on a plane, not in some bathroom I’d never seen before. I looked in the mirror at the person staring back at me—pale skin, dark circles under the eyes from what seemed like chronic lack of sleep. After a few moments, I couldn’t stand the sight anymore. My clothes were stuck to my body, and I wanted to change into something dry. But when I took off my clothes, I froze in shock. This body was covered in bruises and thin scars running up and down the arms. The poor girl must have been in so much mental anguish to do this to herself. As I changed into clean clothes, I began to realize—I had reincarnated, and now I was in someone else’s body. Stepping out of the bathroom, I scanned the room. Girls like this, so sensitive, must keep a diary of their inner turmoil. I started searching for it when suddenly, a voice from behind said, “It’s in the second drawer on the left, the one with the embossed cover.” “Oh, thanks,” I responded instinctively, then immediately felt something was off. My spine stiffened, and I turned toward the voice.

A girl, who looked exactly like the body I was now in, was leaning against the wall, staring at me with a strange expression. I screamed. I’m not afraid of anything, but I’m terrified of ghosts. For a second, I thought I was about to have a heart attack. The ghost rolled her eyes, annoyed. “Stop screaming!” I went silent immediately. “I didn’t think you’d be such a scaredy-cat,” she said, stepping closer. I was so frightened I fell to the floor, which made her look even more puzzled. “I heard you used to be tough, not afraid of anyone. Was that just a rumor?” “But I’m scared of ghosts…” She leaned down, trying to help me up, but as soon as she touched me, her hand passed right through my body, which only freaked me out more. I was so terrified I felt physically ill—who could understand? I scrambled back until I hit the edge of the desk, tears filling my eyes. “I didn’t mean to take your body! I have no idea what happened. I was dead, but then…” I hiccuped through my sobs. “I woke up in your body…” “Must’ve been a glitch in the afterlife’s system,” I rambled, more and more anxious. She was probably here to reclaim her body. Chloe Watson frowned at me. “You don’t sound like how The Reaper described you. He said you were fearless, that even the most dangerous people respected you.” I was nearly sobbing now, convinced the ghost was going to take my life. I hadn’t stopped being afraid of ghosts just because I’d died once. Chloe, clearly irritated, snapped, “Stop crying!” Her sharp tone immediately choked off my tears. She gave me a look. “I’ve never seen anyone as cowardly as you.” I stammered, “W-what do you want?”

Chloe tilted her head. “I need you to do something for me.” I asked cautiously, “Why me?” “You’re the smartest of everyone who died around the same time as me. The Reaper said I could only choose someone from that group.” Of course, I’m smart. No wonder she picked me. “Did the Reaper say I could go back to my own body?” Chloe shook her head. “You died in a plane crash. The wreckage was so bad it took a man named Ethan Clint and his team a long time to find your remains.” “Ethan Clint?” Chloe’s eyes sparkled with curiosity. “Is he your boyfriend?” I scowled and whispered, “No, he’s the guy you mentioned earlier—the one everyone treats with respect.” I wanted to ask about her scars and why she’d taken her life, but before I could speak, she changed the subject again, gossiping. “I heard someone traded twenty years of their life to bring you back,” she said, resting her head on her hand. “Do you know who?” I shook my head. “Do you?” She also shook her head. “You’re lucky. Someone gave up a lot for you.” I stood there, frozen. I didn’t have anyone close enough to do that. Who could possibly make such a huge sacrifice for me? Suddenly, my stomach growled loudly, and Chloe laughed. “The kitchen’s downstairs.” I headed down and grabbed a carton of milk from the fridge. Chloe floated behind me and motioned for me to look at the staircase. I glanced up and saw a boy standing there in pajamas. Chloe pointed at him. “Send Ricky Shane to the afterlife to be with me, and you can keep this body.” So, the boy who had grabbed me earlier was Ricky Shane. He stood still at the top of the stairs, his gaze icy and piercing. After a moment of silence, I broke eye contact and continued drinking my milk. Ricky turned and went back upstairs. I wiped my nose and tried to reason with Chloe. “Murder’s illegal. Even if I get your body, I’ll end up spending my life in prison. And prison uniforms are ugly—they don’t suit me.” Chloe’s lashes trembled. “He did this to me,” she whispered. “He violated me.” My grip on the milk carton tightened. She added softly, “Many times.”

From Chloe’s story, I pieced together the reasons for her suicide. Her father had died when she was young, and she lived with her mother, who remarried into the Shane family. Ricky Shane was her stepfather’s son. Ricky had always been a cruel, manipulative kid, and Chloe, being shy and obedient, was an easy target for him. As Ricky got older, his bullying became something far worse. About a year ago, he started assaulting her. No 17-year-old girl could bear that kind of violence. So, Chloe began self-harming to cope with the unbearable pain. “I would cut myself every time he assaulted me,” she said quietly, lowering her eyes. I recalled the scars crisscrossing her arms and felt a cold sweat break out across my back. “If he saw a new scar, he’d punish me even more.” I stood there, at a loss for how to comfort her. I looked up at her floating form. “Did you ever tell your mom?” Chloe paused and then let out a bitter laugh. “I told her many times.” I clenched the pillow in my hand, my palms slick with sweat. She didn’t need to say it. I already knew. Her mother must have known but chose to ignore it to preserve her marriage and keep her comfortable life. Not everyone is fit to be a mother. I realized then that what truly broke Chloe wasn’t Ricky’s abuse. It was the cold indifference of being ignored. That’s why she killed herself.

Chloe was a high school senior, and my high school days were far behind me. Luckily, she didn’t seem very popular at school. I spent the whole morning sitting in her seat, and no one came to say hello or even seemed to notice me. Now, all the students were in gym class, but I had faked being sick to stay in the classroom. Chloe’s social life wasn’t my biggest concern right now—her grades were. I stared at her math test, with a score of 35, and fell into deep thought. I glanced at Chloe, who was floating around the room. She must have thought I had a question because she drifted over to me. I gestured to the test with a nod of my head, and when she saw the score, she looked embarrassed. I shot her a cold glare. She fussed with her hair, her eyes darting around. This was a top-tier high school. With grades like this, she had to be at the very bottom. I couldn’t help but ask, “How did you even get into this school?” Chloe responded lazily, “Because Ricky Shane goes here. I had to attend this school—he won’t let me out of his sight.” I raised an eyebrow. “Is Ricky smart?” “He’s the top student in the school.” I was surprised. I hadn’t expected that. Chloe then asked, “The Reaper said you were smart. Were you a good student in high school?” I shrugged nonchalantly, “I was top of my class.” Being number one was no big deal to me, so I didn’t think much of Chloe’s wide-eyed, astonished expression. I propped my chin on my hand and began flipping through her test. Even if I took the test with my eyes closed, I wouldn’t have gotten such a low score. Chloe continued, “What college did you go to?” Without much thought, I answered, “Harvard.” Chloe blinked, clearly surprised. “Ricky wants to go to Harvard too.” I scoffed internally. Whether Ricky went to Harvard or any other top school was none of my concern. I had no intention of helping Chloe send him to the afterlife, nor did I know how long I would even be stuck in this body. For now, I was just taking things day by day. I was mentally solving one of the math problems when a dark shadow loomed over my desk, followed by a familiar low, raspy voice. “You’re not feeling well?” I looked up, startled to see Ricky Shane standing over me. The sight of him made my chest tighten, this body’s natural response to his presence.

Ricky Shane stood towering over me, his narrow eyes slightly lifting at the corners, his expression unreadable. I glanced toward where Chloe had been floating earlier, but she had disappeared. It was just me and Ricky now, alone in the classroom. I gripped the edge of my skirt and answered, “I’m not feeling well.” Ricky reached out to touch my forehead, but I instinctively swatted his hand away. “I’m fine,” I said coldly. “A minute ago, you said you weren’t feeling well,” he drawled, lazily leaning against the desk beside me. His fingers brushed a strand of my hair as he smirked. “You’ve gotten brave, slapping my hand away like that.” His words were soft, but they sent a shiver down my spine. He might’ve only been a kid, but he had the cold, calculating nature of a venomous snake. It felt like he could wrap his coils around my throat at any moment, cutting off my air supply. The fear was palpable. I stared straight at him, not saying a word. In my old life, I’d never been pushed around or treated with veiled threats like this. And right now, I couldn’t afford to let him suspect that I wasn’t really Chloe Watson. Ricky wasn’t the kind of person who could be easily fooled. His gaze drifted down to the math test on my desk, and a slight smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “After all the tutoring I’ve given you, how are you still doing this badly?” I blinked in surprise. Ricky Shane had been tutoring Chloe? I couldn’t help but wonder if his “tutoring” had involved more than just academics. I responded cautiously, “I’m not as smart as you.” He seemed to expect my answer, letting out a barely noticeable sigh. “With grades like these, how are you going to follow me to Harvard?” I frowned. He really thought of Chloe as his possession, didn’t he? He wasn’t just controlling her now—he planned on keeping her trapped even after high school. No wonder she couldn’t take it anymore. Ricky straightened up, his smile fading. “I’ll help you study tonight,” he said, his voice turning cold. “And don’t lock the door. Or else…” He trailed off with a casual laugh, not finishing his sentence. But the threat lingered in the air. I lowered my eyes, forcing a stiff smile.

As soon as Ricky left, I wasted no time pulling out Chloe Watson’s diary and began reading through it. Ricky Shane was far more dangerous than I had imagined. In my previous life, I’d never dealt with someone as insidious as him. Thinking of danger brought Ethan Clint to mind. Ethan had a handsome face, but his cold, emotionless demeanor had always made him seem distant. There was something chilling in his eyes, an unfeeling void. I wondered how he was doing back in Charleston. Had he given me a proper funeral? Without me, his adopted sister, all the inheritance from our late father would be his now. That massive house—was he living in it all alone now? Did he ever get lonely? I turned page after page in the diary, and almost all of it was about Ricky Shane. Chloe’s descriptions painted him as a dark, twisted genius—a brilliant but manipulative psycho, far beyond what she could ever handle. Ricky had isolated Chloe from everyone, making sure she had no friends. He wouldn’t allow anyone else in her life. He demanded that her entire existence revolve around him. Just as I was about to close the diary, a girl’s shadow appeared in my peripheral vision. She rested her hand on my shoulder, her gaze fixated on the notebook in my hands. Startled, I snapped the diary shut and turned to face her. She seemed a bit taken aback by my reaction, squinting her eyes at me. “What’s so secret in that diary that you’re guarding it so closely?” I glanced at the name badge pinned to her chest. Rachel Monroe. This girl didn’t seem like the friendly type. With Chloe gone, I had to handle this on my own. I put on an indifferent face, stuffing the diary into my bag. “It’s nothing important.” Rachel’s eyes drifted to the math test still lying on my desk. She pulled up a chair beside me and started talking. “At first, everyone thought you only got into this school because of donations. But then again, you’ve got a brother who’s top of the class. Why haven’t you asked him to help you with your grades? With scores like these, you’re not getting into any college. Are you planning to study abroad? Well, it doesn’t matter, because Ricky Shane seems to take care of you so well. I’m sure he’ll find a way to get you into Harvard. You’d be lost without him.” Apparently, everyone thought Ricky was being a doting brother, looking after poor Chloe. I gave a mental thumbs-up. Ricky Shane, well done. You’ve got everyone fooled, you manipulative little mastermind. In the back of my mind, I heard Ricky’s cold voice, reminding me about tonight’s “tutoring” session. The diary had made it clear just how those sessions usually went. But I wasn’t Chloe Watson.

Chloe didn’t reappear for the rest of the day, leaving me to sit through an entire afternoon of classes. Back in my own high school days, I had coasted my way into Harvard thanks to academic competitions. But now, if I wanted to survive, I’d have to take the SAT like everyone else. Thankfully, I hadn’t forgotten any of what I’d learned, and the classwork felt familiar. I breezed through the assignments. When the final bell rang, I started packing up my things when Rachel Monroe tapped me on the shoulder. “Ricky’s here to pick you up.” Chloe and Ricky weren’t in the same class, so I looked up toward the door. Sure enough, Ricky was leaning against the frame, his expression calm but unreadable. My stomach twisted with unease. I stayed seated, watching him closely. His dark eyes, glinting with amusement, were locked on mine. Rachel sighed dreamily. “You’re so lucky to have a brother like Ricky.” I didn’t bother looking at her as I replied softly, “You want him? You can have him.” “Huh?” Ricky patiently waited, his posture relaxed as he called out, “Chloe, aren’t you done packing up?” His voice was sweet and warm, dripping with fake kindness. I gritted my teeth. You snake. He walked over to me and gently patted my head, leaning down to whisper, “If you keep stalling, I’ll have to tutor you all night.” I stood abruptly. “I’m ready.” Ricky took my bag from me like it was the most natural thing in the world, playing the role of the perfect, caring brother. As we walked to the car, I tried to summon Chloe. There were so many things I needed to ask her. But she was nowhere to be found. Sitting in the car, I watched the passing scenery, my mind racing with strategies to handle tonight’s “tutoring” session.

��Dad’s home.” I turned toward Ricky, who was resting his elbow against the car window, watching me with a smirk. “We’ll have to wait until after Dad goes to bed for your tutoring session,” he said, leaning closer, his voice low with warning. “You know what happens if you lock the door.” He leaned back, looking satisfied with himself, his lips curling into a lazy smile. I clenched my fists, resisting the urge to punch him in the face. Back when Ethan Clint was around, no one dared to treat me like this. We got out of the car and entered the house. As soon as I saw the man sitting in the dining room, my blood ran cold. Even from behind, I recognized him instantly. I would never forget that figure, no matter what. The man slowly turned to face me, his smile warm as he called out, “Chloe.” Chloe Watson’s stepfather—Ricky Shane’s father—was none other than Richard Shane. My entire body tensed up. Every cell in me screamed with the urge to flee. My heart pounded in my chest, my breath catching in my throat. I bolted up the stairs to my room, telling myself to breathe, forcing myself to stay calm. I remembered now. Richard Shane did have a son he adored, a boy he bragged about constantly, a supposed prodigy. I’d tried to forget, but fate had other plans. At that moment, Chloe reappeared. My heart raced as I processed everything that had happened in the past few days. None of it made sense, and I was losing control. I didn’t know who was behind all of this, who was pulling the strings. But I knew one thing for sure: Richard Shane needed to pay for what he did. And Ricky? I’d send him to the afterlife to keep Chloe company. If his precious son died, Richard Shane would suffer. And there’s no greater pain than a parent burying their child.

Chloe looked hesitant, like she had something to say but was holding back. Her reluctance irritated me. Just as I was about to push her to talk, there was a knock at the door. Chloe disappeared instantly, leaving me to deal with whoever was on the other side—most likely Ricky. God, I was exhausted. The door was locked, but Ricky continued to knock persistently. My back pressed against the wall, and my stomach churned at the thought of sitting at the dinner table with Richard Shane. The knocking grew louder and more impatient. “Chloe, open the door.” I opened the door, and Ricky’s eyes scanned me. “What’s going on? Just because you don’t like my dad doesn’t mean you can be rude. If your mom were here, she wouldn’t let this slide.” My legs felt weak as I wobbled slightly, my voice coming out low and shaky. “I don’t feel well.” Ricky’s hand cupped my face, tilting my chin up. His dark eyes studied my pale, tired expression, his touch oddly gentle. “You don’t look so good. Can you handle dinner?” I shook my head. “I don’t want to eat.” “Then rest.” I moved to close the door, my hand on the knob when he suddenly called out, “Chloe.” The half-sigh I’d just released caught in my throat. He glanced over his shoulder at me, his gaze intense. “Be good, Chloe.” I nodded stiffly and shut the door.

I pushed open the bathroom door and turned on the faucet, letting the water fill the tub. I leaned against the sink, staring at my reflection in the mirror. My face was pale and lifeless, and my eyes, exhausted to the core, refused to close. I submerged myself in the warm, misty water. My school uniform soaked through and clung tightly to my skin. As soon as I closed my eyes, I was back in that studio with Richard Shane when I was twelve. His voice echoed in my ears, smooth and persuasive, while his hand slowly slid up my leg. “Do you still want to continue lessons? My lessons are expensive, and I heard your father went bankrupt. If you want to keep taking my classes, you’ll need to be a good girl and listen to your teacher.” “You’ve got real talent in painting, Olivia. It would be such a waste to let your parents’ mistakes ruin your future.” The studio was cluttered, his hands, his breath—everything about him suffocated me. I bet Chloe Watson didn’t expect that I’d help her, not just because I needed this body, but because her stepfather, Richard Shane, had once been my teacher. He molested me when I was twelve. At the time, my family had just gone bankrupt, and I desperately wanted to continue taking his classes. But his lessons were expensive. He took me to his studio and said that if I agreed to play a game with him, he would let me attend his classes for free. That day in the studio became a lifelong nightmare. When my dad found out, he tried to kill Richard. He attacked him, but without enough evidence, Richard got away with it. My dad, on the other hand, was sentenced to five years in prison for assault, where he died of a heart attack. That year, I learned what it meant to lose everything. Relatives distanced themselves, and I ended up in an orphanage. For years, I lived in misery, while Richard Shane climbed the ladder of fame in the art world, almost being revered as a genius. Now I realize the truth of the saying: the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Richard Shane raised a criminal just like himself. The bathroom filled with steam, and through the mist, I saw Ricky Shane walk in.

Ricky Shane stood there for a long time, his gaze slowly scanning every inch of me. I didn’t say a word, didn’t even blink. He crouched down beside the tub, brushing his hand through my wet hair, staring into my eyes. “Chloe, something’s off about you.” Of course something’s off—I’m not Chloe. Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through my abdomen. Warm liquid trickled between my legs. I quickly looked down and saw blood mixing with the bathwater. “You’re early.” I turned my head away, saying nothing. He continued talking to himself. “Too much stress, maybe?” He bent down and lifted me out of the tub, water rippling behind us. His fingers went to the buttons of my school shirt. I looked up at him, and in my mind, his face began to merge with Richard Shane’s. Like a madwoman, I shoved him away and coldly said, “Don’t touch me.” He laughed darkly. “Don’t touch you?” I repeated, “Don’t touch me.” In an instant, his hand clamped around my neck, slamming me back against the wall. He sneered, his voice icy and low. “Since when did I give you the right to refuse me?” His cold fingers curled around my throat, pressing directly over my pulse. Honestly, I thought he was going to kill me. My breathing grew ragged as his grip tightened. Just when I thought he was serious about strangling me, his hand loosened. He let go and pulled me into his arms, his fingers tracing the scars on my arms. His voice dropped to a soothing tone, as if trying to coax me. “Wouldn’t it be easier if you just behaved? If you behaved, I wouldn’t have to make you suffer.” He’s a lunatic—Ricky Shane is completely insane. Chloe’s life was truly miserable, to end up with someone like him. His eyes scanned my face, expressionless, as he murmured, “Too bad I won’t be able to tutor you tonight.”

I propped my chin up with one hand while the teacher wrote on the board. The sound of pens scratching against paper filled the room. I was doing my best to keep up the appearance of being a slacker, like Chloe, without even bothering to open a book. My eyes were fixed on the board, but my mind was elsewhere. Right now, I was living as Chloe Watson. Her life and status were miles below what I was used to. It made everything harder. I needed to come up with a solid plan. My phone buzzed in my pocket. It was a message from Chloe’s mom. “We’re going to a gallery this afternoon. I’ve already gotten you out of class.” Richard Shane had gained quite a reputation in recent years, becoming one of the top artists in the country. His name carried weight in the industry. I had always gone out of my way to avoid hearing about him. In my mind, as long as I didn’t acknowledge his success, it was like he didn’t exist in my world. The gallery exhibition went smoothly. I had to admit, Richard’s work was an undeniable visual feast. I used the excuse of not feeling well to leave early. As I stepped outside, a sleek black car pulled up at the curb. A young man stepped out from the driver’s seat and hurried over to open the back door. The first thing I noticed was a pair of polished black shoes, toes resting firmly on the shadowy patterns of the fallen leaves. He wore a navy blue, tailored suit, his fingers tapping quickly on his phone. Then he paused, raising his head without warning, and our eyes met. Sharp, almond-shaped eyes, both refined and ruthless, with a thin scar running along his eyebrow. There was something dangerous lurking beneath the surface. It was Ethan Clint. Why was he in Charleston? Ethan didn’t say a word. He just stared at me. His jaw was clenched tight, and his eyes were stormy. I had a gut feeling—he recognized me, the soul beneath this body. He knew I was Olivia. He suddenly stepped forward, bending down to wrap his arms around me. “Olivia,” he breathed, his voice deep and rough in my ear. “Welcome back.” His familiar scent flooded my senses. My mind exploded. He recognized me. Ethan Clint recognized me immediately. Leaning into his chest, I glanced up at the scar above his brow. That scar—Ethan got it trying to catch me when I jumped out of a tree. I don’t even remember why I climbed up that day, just that getting up was easy, but getting down was terrifying. Ethan had stood below with his arms outstretched, promising he’d catch me. It wasn’t long after I’d been adopted into the Clint family, and I didn’t fully trust him yet, but for some reason, I jumped anyway. He held me tight, not letting me get hurt at all. But he broke his arm in the process, and the cut above his brow came from hitting his head on a rock. I had no idea how to explain to him why I was in someone else’s body, or why I hadn’t come looking for him sooner. But it was like he knew. He patted my head gently and said, “You don’t have to explain.” “What are you doing in Charleston?” I asked. He tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear and said casually, “Just handling some business.” He lifted my face, carefully inspecting every inch. His brow furrowed, and he tapped my forehead lightly. “This face… doesn’t look as good as yours.” Thank God Chloe hasn’t shown up—this could’ve been really awkward. The corners of his deep-set eyes softened slightly as he asked, “I can’t take you away just yet, can I?” I shook my head. I was still Chloe Watson, and I couldn’t just leave with Ethan Clint. He stroked my hair, just like he used to, and said, “Olivia, we need to talk.” Out of nowhere, I blurted, “Did you hold a funeral for me?” There was a brief flicker of hesitation in his eyes. “Yeah, I did.” “Was it grand?” He was silent for a moment before replying, “It was.” Even if the funeral had been grand, the only attendees would’ve been people with business ties to the Clint family. I never had any real friends. He leaned against the car, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and lighting one. The thick smoke swirled around his piercing gaze. He silently took a few drags, and without thinking, I reached for his cigarette pack—just like I used to. He caught my hand, flicking the ash from his cigarette. “Has this body even hit legal age?” he asked. I smirked. “Just turned 18. I’ve got college entrance exams coming up.” He smiled with his mouth, but there wasn’t any humor in his eyes. He patted my hand and refused. “High school seniors aren’t allowed to smoke.” I shot back, “I smoked when I was a senior, and you didn’t stop me then.” He chuckled. “I wasn’t in the country back then. Too far away to stop you.” He lifted his wrist to check his watch, then glanced behind me. “There’s a kid across the street staring at us. Do you know him?” I turned around. Across the road, Ricky Shane was glaring at us, his eyes narrowed and his fists clenched tightly, knuckles white. I snorted. “Oh, I know him, alright.” 15 Ignoring Ricky Shane’s rage, I turned back to continue talking to Ethan. He was my strength, my anchor. Somewhere along the line, I’d grown to rely on him completely. As long as he was around, nothing scared me. “That guy’s name is Ricky Shane. He’s this body’s brother,” I paused, then added, “stepbrother.” I could feel Ricky’s eyes boring into my back, but Ethan just glanced over my shoulder, sizing him up. “He’s got a thing for his sister.” I blinked, surprised. “How do you know that?” Ethan returned his gaze to me, his expression unreadable. “I’m not blind.” He suddenly frowned, grabbing my wrist and rolling up my sleeve, exposing the scars on my arm. “What’s this about?” “That’s the girl’s doing, not mine.” I was debating whether or not to tell Ethan the deal Chloe had proposed: if I killed Ricky, I could keep her body. I knew Ethan would have no problem burying Ricky six feet under without hesitation. But I couldn’t let him do that. He’d worked so hard to clean up the Clint family’s reputation, ridding it of all the shady stuff. His hands didn’t need more blood on them. While I was still talking to Ethan, I misjudged Ricky’s possessiveness and underestimated his anger. I didn’t expect Ricky to charge toward us. His face was twisted with fury, and before I could grab his arm to stop him, he shoved me aside and stormed toward Ethan, who had his back turned while talking on the phone. Without warning, Ricky yanked Ethan by the collar and punched him hard in the jaw. Ricky had put his full strength into that punch. Ethan, caught off guard, stumbled back, blood trickling from his mouth. In all the years I’d known Ethan, I had never seen anyone hit him. My voice shook with fury. “Ricky Shane, have you lost your damn mind?” Ethan wiped the blood from his mouth, his expression darkening like a storm on the horizon. He tilted his head slightly, stepped forward, and grabbed Ricky by the throat. “You little punk.” Ethan moved so fast that Ricky didn’t even have time to react. His face turned bright red as he struggled to breathe, unable to speak a word. Ethan had him completely overpowered, his grip unyielding. I’d always known Ethan had a rough side. From the day I met him, he’d been wild to the core. A street kid at heart. Ricky, raised in comfort and luxury, didn’t stand a chance. Ethan’s knuckles whitened, and for a second, it looked like he might actually strangle him. His brow furrowed, and with a swift motion, he let go. Ricky collapsed to the ground, gasping for air. Ethan pressed his shoe against Ricky’s chin, looking down at him like he was nothing more than a stray dog. The showdown between a grown man and a teenage boy ended with the teenager thoroughly humiliated. 16 I stood there, wide-eyed, watching the whole scene unfold. I wasn’t new to seeing Ethan fight, but this time I wasn’t Olivia Dawner—I was Chloe Watson—and I didn’t know how I was supposed to react as her. Behind me, I heard a woman’s shrill cry, “Ricky!” Chloe’s mother, Diane, came rushing over in her high heels, kneeling beside Ricky. Following close behind her was Richard Shane, his face like thunder. Ethan smirked, his eyes flicking from Ricky to Richard, lifting his chin slightly as he said, “Seems like your son wasn’t raised with much discipline.” Richard’s eyes darted between Ethan and his son. For a moment, he looked shocked, but he quickly recovered his composure. “My apologies, Mr. Clint,” Richard said, his tone smooth but strained. He didn’t need to ask what had happened; the blood on Ethan’s lip made it obvious. Men like Ethan didn’t get into fights with high schoolers without good reason. Diane helped Ricky to his feet. He grimaced, his face taut with barely-contained anger. Richard turned to his son and said through clenched teeth, “Apologize to Mr. Clint.” Ricky stubbornly refused to say a word. I thought Ethan might step in to defuse the tension, but he didn’t. He was really waiting for Ricky to apologize. The atmosphere grew heavier, the standoff dragging on. I finally stepped forward, trying to smooth things over. “I’ll apologize on my brother’s behalf. I’m sorry.” Ethan glanced at Ricky and then back at Richard, a mocking smile tugging at his lips. “Looks like your daughter’s got more manners than your son, Mr. Shane.” Richard and Diane both plastered on awkward smiles, but I could feel Ethan’s gaze lingering on me. Watching the way Richard acted around Ethan, I knew instantly—Ethan was the main financial backer behind the art gallery Richard was working on. Ricky kept his head down, his fists clenched, fury practically radiating off him. The tension was suffocating. Out of nowhere, Chloe appeared. She stood right beside Ricky, leaned in close to me, and whispered in my ear, “Olivia, you’re in trouble now.”

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I was stabbed three times in the stomach. And my boyfriend? He was busy protecting his ex-girlfriend. This police academy student, who claims to serve and protect the citizens, decided his ex was more important than me. I was stabbed three times in the stomach. And my boyfriend? He was busy protecting his ex-girlfriend. This police academy student, who claims to serve and protect the citizens, decided his ex was more important than me. So, I found someone who would prioritize me. But that person? He’s now on his knees, swearing he’s done nothing wrong. I flipped him off. “Yeah, you did nothing wrong. You and your trashy ex-girlfriend can keep playing your little game. To hell with you both!” “Claire, I had nowhere else to go,” Chloe Daniels said with her fake little voice. “Jason said he’d take me out to clear my head. I didn’t mean to intrude on you guys. I’m really sorry.” Jason Foster arrived 30 minutes late, dragging this piece of work along with him. I smiled at Jason and asked, “Jason, do you remember what you said yesterday? Do you even know what’s going on in that head of yours?” Jason’s face changed. He grabbed my hand and said, “Don’t be unreasonable. Whatever happened with her before, it’s over. Besides, she’s just the neighbor’s little sister. I had to look out for her. It’s only right.” “Little sister? The kind of sister you share a bed with? How many times have you ditched me for her?” “There were reasons! Stop making this a thing!” I pulled my hand back and wiped it with a tissue. “This is the last time.” After today, we’re done. I’ve been holding on so long I’m about to turn into a ninja turtle from all the restraint. But Jason thought I was giving in again. Excitedly, he called Chloe over and took her bag, completely ignoring mine. “Ryan,” Chloe chirped, “buy this lady in the white dress a flower. You’ve gotta keep your girlfriend happy!”

Meanwhile, I was standing there in my black pants like a total joke, watching Jason fawn all over Chloe as if she were his pregnant wife. “She’s not my girlfriend,” Jason said nervously. “That’s my girlfriend.” He gestured toward me, finally acknowledging I existed. “Oh, silly me! I’m his little sister,” Chloe giggled. The little girl standing nearby glanced between me, Jason, and Chloe and then muttered, “So weird… Some people are just meant to end up alone.”

“Don’t move!” I felt the sharp tip of a knife pressing against my side. My brain froze, wrapped in a cold, terrifying panic. I stiffened, desperately looking toward Jason, hoping he would help. But no. Chloe was also being held hostage, and Jason rushed over to save her, getting into a fight with the attacker. “Jason! Jason!” I screamed. “Claire, wait! I’ll save you in just a second!” I laughed bitterly. I’ve never wanted someone to tell me to wait or just hang on. “Didn’t I tell you not to move, you stupid bitch?!” “You all look down on me, don’t you? None of you ever listen!” The attacker’s mood shifted, and I froze, hoping the emergency call I managed to make while screaming Jason’s name would work. But it was clear Chloe had no interest in me surviving this. She screamed, “Claire, don’t call the cops! If they come, someone’s going to get hurt! I don’t want to die!” Jason heard her and immediately turned toward me, eyes red with anger. He didn’t say a word but went back to fighting off the guy who was holding Chloe. At that moment, the attacker behind me snapped. The knife was suddenly in front of me, stabbing me three times, his hand clamping over my mouth to keep me from making a sound. I crumpled to the ground like a ragdoll, bleeding out, unable to scream. Jason was so busy protecting Chloe, and that’s when it hit me—Chloe didn’t want me to call the cops because she knew she’d be fine. She had someone protecting her. Not me. When I could call for help, even with my boyfriend right there, all I got was “just wait.”

I heard the sirens approaching. Jason was standing there like some hero, holding Chloe in his arms, accepting everyone’s praise. Then a man stepped out of one of the police cars and, without missing a beat, punched Jason square in the face. It was my brother—Ryan Mason. “Jason, what the hell are you doing? Why are you holding your ex-girlfriend? Are you kidding me?” “Where’s Claire? Don’t tell me you’ve spent all this time protecting your ex!” The murmurs around us made Jason’s face turn ghostly white as if he’d only just remembered I existed. “It’s not what it looks like,” Jason stammered. “I told her to wait—I was going to save her too!” Just then, the little girl pointed at me and screamed, “That lady’s bleeding so much! So much blood!” In that instant, Jason looked at me with disbelief and regret on his face. I turned to Ryan, “Ryan… it hurts so much.” “Ryan, please… help me!” His eyes filled with tears, and the paramedics rushed forward, lifting me onto a stretcher. But the moment they moved me, I started bleeding even more. Ryan clenched his fists and carefully lifted me himself onto the stretcher. As I cried, I whispered to him, “It hurts so bad…” Ryan’s eyes narrowed as he turned and punched Jason in the gut. Chloe timidly stepped forward to try to stop him, but Ryan slapped her across the face. “I don’t hit women, but I’ll make an exception for a homewrecker. What the hell were you taught at home, seducing someone else’s boyfriend?” Jason clutched his stomach but still shielded Chloe. “Ryan, don’t drag her into this.” “Don’t call me Ryan! You brought your ex-girlfriend to meet up with my sister, got her caught in this attack, and now she’s bleeding all over the place? Where the hell is your conscience?” Jason gasped, shaking his head. “No, Claire’s my girlfriend! I’m a future cop—I have to protect the citizens first.” “I did nothing wrong, Ryan. Isn’t it my duty to protect the citizens first?” Ryan, about to jump into the ambulance, scoffed, “Citizens? There are plenty of people here. Why is your ex the only one you’re protecting? Your girlfriend’s the unluckiest person on earth.” Around us, the injured and shocked onlookers started muttering, their eyes red, staring daggers at Jason. “Trash!” someone yelled. The only one capable of fighting off the attacker, and he only protected his ex. He didn’t even want to call the cops because he was worried Chloe might get hurt. What a joke.

I woke up two days later. Ryan and my parents sat by my bedside, looking like they’d just come from the police station. “Mom… Dad… Ryan…” I croaked. Ryan was the first to react, gripping my hand with red-rimmed eyes. “Claire, thank God you’re awake. We were so worried.” “You know, what did you ever see in that Jason guy? If I hadn’t shown up, you might not have made it.” Mom nudged him, and Ryan immediately shut his mouth. “Claire, you really scared us this time. Seeing you lying there in that pool of blood…” I held my mom’s hand, just like when I was little, and she’d comfort me to sleep. “I hate him so much. Jason… he’s a piece of trash who put me through hell.” “Ryan, did you know that when the knife was pressed against my back, I called out for him? And all he said was, ‘just wait.’” “Chloe told me not to call the cops, and when the attacker realized I had, he stabbed me three times.” Ryan kept his head down, fiddling with his shirt buttons, refusing to look me in the eye. “That idiot’s outside. I stopped him from getting in. Do you want to see him?” I shook my head. Staring at the corner of the doorway, I said quietly, “I hate him. These three scars are enough to remind me of him forever.”

Chloe Daniels showed up while my family was at work and I was recovering. She hadn’t suffered a single injury and had the nerve to show up wearing bright orange lipstick. “Thanks for taking those three stabs for me,” she said, smiling. “Otherwise, I might’ve gotten hurt. Really appreciate it.” “But, Claire, don’t you get it yet? Jason has always loved me. He was only with you because he was lonely.” “Third parties are the ones who aren’t loved. He’ll always choose me over you. All it takes is one phone call, and he’ll come running. Isn’t that right?” Yeah, ever since Chloe came back, Jason had stood me up five times. Every single date, Chloe was always there. I was never his first choice. It made me sick. I remember when Jason met my parents for dinner. Everything was perfect until he got a phone call, then without saying a word, he just got up and left the table. I heard Chloe on the phone saying she’d cut her hand, and Jason told her to wait for him. It was laughable. Her “wait for me” was so different from the “wait” I always got. What kind of “citizen” needs someone to drop everything and leave their girlfriend’s family dinner just because they cut their hand? I looked at my phone, which I had secretly started recording, and then said to Chloe, “If you love Jason so much, why did you break up with him? Do you enjoy stealing other people’s boyfriends?” Chloe smirked as she fiddled with her perfectly manicured nails, chuckling. “Of course, I was just playing around. Jason doesn’t have money or status—he only has his love for me. But you see, when I came back, he still loved me, didn’t he?” She glanced up at me with a wicked grin. “Honestly, it’s kind of fun, don’t you think? Even though he’s your boyfriend, he still saved me.” I nodded, holding back my disgust. “You two really are perfect for each other. A homewrecker and a guy who claims he’s just doing his duty by ‘saving citizens.’”

I pressed the call button for the nurse, and when she came in, I said, “Can you please get this homewrecker out of here? I didn’t invite her, and all she’s doing is rubbing it in my face.” The nurse didn’t waste any time. She moved to escort Chloe out. But Chloe raised her voice, “I’m in the VIP suite! You better watch out, or I’ll report you!” The nurse paused, glancing at Chloe with a strange look in her eyes. “Well, honey, that suite is being paid for with my money,” I interjected, enjoying the shift in power. “Now, please—get her out.” The nurse, now fully understanding the situation, nodded and swiftly showed Chloe the door.

As soon as the door shut behind Chloe, I felt a wave of relief wash over me. I picked up my phone and called Ryan, asking him to cancel the VIP suite. “What’s going on?” Ryan asked, confused. “Jason put Chloe Daniels in that suite, and she’s been strutting around without a scratch. Oh, and she charged it to my card.” “She even came here just to gloat,” I added, my voice dripping with annoyance. Ryan was silent for a moment before muttering, “I’ve never met someone so shameless. I’ll handle it.” “Thanks, Ryan. You feel like cooking some corn and pork rib soup today?” “Sure, sure. Just boss me around, why don’t you?” “Well, you are my brother—Ryan!” I teased.

fter Chloe got kicked out, Jason finally had the nerve to call me. Of course, I had already blocked him, so he started spamming me with text messages, even using different numbers. I remember one message in particular that said: “Claire, this is all my fault, but I was just trying to protect citizens. Why are you so mad at Chloe? Why did you kick her out?” “She’s not in a good place mentally. Please, I’m begging you. Let her stay.” I calmly typed out my reply: “If you care so much about your ex, why don’t you spend your money on her? It’s my card, my money. Who gave you the right to use it?” “And do you seriously still think you did nothing wrong? There are homeless people everywhere—why don’t you go and ‘care’ for them too, Mr. Citizen Protector? You’re ridiculous!” There are always fools telling me to be the bigger person. Well, maybe I’ll forgive him when he’s six feet under.

On the day of my discharge, Jason showed up. I knew he had been hanging around the hospital the entire time, hoping to see me. But Ryan had kicked him out, so he’d been spending his time setting Chloe up with a place to live—again, trying to use my card for it. I sat in a wheelchair, with Ryan standing behind me, ready to intervene if Jason pushed too far. Jason looked nervous, his eyes filled with regret and fear. “Claire, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you were hurt that badly. I messed up…” “I was trying to get Chloe out of the way so I could save you, but the guy kept targeting her. I couldn’t do anything about it.” “I figured you were my girlfriend, and Chloe didn’t have anyone else. So yeah, I took care of her. But I swear, I didn’t mean for you to get hurt.” I looked down at him, lightly touching the bandages covering my stab wounds. “I was stabbed three times, Jason. I almost didn’t wake up. You couldn’t help me because you were too busy protecting Chloe, and yet you watched while I was held hostage and stabbed.” “What did I do to deserve being your girlfriend? Do you have any shame?” Jason mumbled under his breath, “I didn’t mean to… I’m sorry…” “Can you ever forgive me?”

“Not a chance. We’re done. Stop making my life hell.” Jason turned pale, his whole body shaking. “You really can’t forgive me? I didn’t do anything except save someone… I was just doing my duty.” “I was wrong, I know that.” Behind me, Ryan gestured toward a woman begging on the sidewalk, her face disfigured and missing a leg. “See that woman over there? Isn’t she more pitiful? Why don’t you go hold her at night and find her a place to stay for the rest of her life?” Jason’s eyes welled up, but he stayed silent. “What’s the matter? You can’t? Isn’t she also one of your ‘citizens’? You’re such a hypocrite. Disgusting.” “And let me guess—you’ve forgotten how your dad left your mom for some perfect little sweetheart, driving her into depression? How are you any different from him?” “Looks like being trash is genetic.” Jason clenched his fists and shook his head, muttering, “It’s not like that… It’s not…” I looked toward the trees and spotted Chloe peeking out from behind one. “Chloe Daniels, you can come out now. Clean up your mess and take your trash with you. I don’t need it cluttering up my sight.” Chloe suddenly rushed forward and dropped to her knees in front of my wheelchair. “Claire, please don’t blame Jason. It’s all my fault—I’m the one who shamelessly clung to him.” “I deserved it when you took the house back and kicked me out of the hospital. It’s my own fault.” Hearing this, Jason shot me a dark look as if I were the unreasonable one. “Claire, it’s all my fault. How can you take it out on Chloe? There’s nothing between us anymore.” “Come on, be reasonable. I’ll treat you right from now on. You only went after Chloe because you still care about me, right?” Chloe nodded vigorously, her head hitting the ground twice. I smiled coldly. “The house? I paid for it in full because Jason couldn’t afford it. The hospital bill? Charged to my card. So, tell me—what right do either of you have to hurt me and still spend my money?” “Jason, get some dignity. We’re done!” “You know how I am.”

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“Anna, James is in the hospital right now, and… it doesn’t look good.” I glanced over at my daughter, Sophia, who was watching TV on the couch. In a low voice, I replied, “Let’s stop the treatment.” James and I have been married for seven years, and our daughter, Sophia, is four now. He runs one of my brother Ryan’s branch companies, but the business had been struggling for a while. My dad even advised him to let it go, saying he should find a job more suited to his expertise. But after I got pregnant, the company suddenly started doing well, and James got busier. That busyness stretched on for five years. Once Sophia was born, my entire focus shifted to her, leaving little time for James. Last month, Sophia started preschool, and I finally got a moment to breathe. That’s when I realized that James wasn’t coming home more than three times a week. Hesitating for a moment, I decided to give him a call. He picked up quickly. “Hey, babe?” “When are you coming home? Sophia’s been waiting for you.” Sophia had actually been asleep for a while by then. I’m just not the type to openly say things like ‘I miss you’ or ‘I love you,’ even when we were dating. James hesitated for a few seconds, his breathing sounded rushed. “I’ve got something at the office. I won’t be home tonight. Tell Sophia to get to bed.” “Babe, I’ve got to go. Love you.” Before I could respond, he hung up.

James didn’t come home until the next night. As soon as I saw him, I knew he’d changed clothes. The suit he was wearing looked a lot like the one he had on the day before, same brand and everything. But it definitely wasn’t the same one. I took his briefcase, pretending to be casual. “Honey, where’s that suit Ryan gave you last time? Haven’t seen you wear it lately.” I was talking about the suit he had left the house wearing the previous day. He bent down to take off his shoes, freezing when he heard my question. His movements became a bit clumsy. My heart sank. A woman’s intuition is almost always spot on. You don’t need hard evidence to tell when your partner’s been unfaithful. James quickly covered, “A client spilled some wine on it. Insisted on taking it to the cleaners for me.” He seemed satisfied with the explanation, standing up to show off the new suit. “They even bought me a new one.” I nodded but didn’t say anything. Later that night, after he fell asleep, I checked his phone. Nothing suspicious. Then I opened his Uber app, and all the ride history had been wiped clean. Since we used the family car to take Sophia to school, James always used Uber to get to the office. Maybe he didn’t know about another feature of the app. I clicked on the “Request Invoice” button, and all the ride records popped up. His three most frequent destinations: The office A place called Sunset Apartments A factory out in the suburbs I knew Sunset Apartments—expensive, even for a rental. The factory? That was near one of the company’s other properties.

Once James left for work, I asked Sandra Davis, the HR manager, to send me a list of employee details. The company had been downsizing lately; last month, they’d laid off a few people. Most of the long-time employees had already jumped ship, leaving a bunch of fresh-out-of-college hires. Aside from Sandra, I barely knew anyone at the company anymore. The list included home addresses, and sure enough, there was a Lisa Woods listed as living at Sunset Apartments. There was no way she could afford to rent that place on her salary. I skimmed her file—out-of-town hire, attractive. Whether her family had money? That wasn’t listed. That afternoon, I picked up some coffee and headed to James’s office. It’s not easy getting a divorce these days; you need solid evidence. The house was a gift from my parents before the wedding, so it was under my name and Sophia’s. I wasn’t concerned about the marital assets, but there was no way I’d let go of custody of my daughter. “Anna’s here, and she brought coffee for everyone!” James’s secretary had already been waiting downstairs for me. James hurried out to meet me too, and for a second, I saw something strange in his eyes. Was it disgust? Or maybe… jealousy? Lisa Woods was there too, shyly coming over to grab her coffee, then walking right up to me. “Thanks, Anna. James always talks about how amazing you are.” Then she flashed him a flirty smile. It was the kind of smile I hadn’t been able to pull off since I was twenty. The air grew tense for a few moments. I smiled, taking her hand. “I haven’t been to the office in a while, so I don’t know any of the new faces.” She opened her mouth to say something, but I cut her off. “Focus on your work. I hope to see your name up there at the end of the year, and when I do, I’ll make sure to give you a nice bonus.” Sandra Davis quickly jumped in, “You hear that, everyone? Anna just promised us all a great bonus! Better thank the boss!” I smiled at her. In this company, only a few people knew who really held the reins.

James didn’t take it well when I stole his spotlight, and he sulked for the rest of the afternoon. “Our numbers are down, way down,” I said. He froze. “Honey, you’re working like crazy every day. I thought business was booming.” He swallowed hard. “Well, actually, this quarter’s been a little tough…” “With numbers like that, you don’t need to be coming home two or three times a week. What are you doing out there? Gambling? Cheating?” James never expected me to speak so harshly, his neck stiffening as he struggled to respond. “Alright, here are your options.” “One, you fix the numbers for this quarter.” “Two, we shut down the company.” Immediately, he softened, kneeling in front of me. “Babe, we can’t shut down the company! I’ll work harder, I promise.” Of course, he wouldn’t agree to close it. If the company folded, he’d just become “Anna’s husband” and nothing more. “Then get to work.” “If Ryan sees these numbers, he’ll probably feel the same way I do.” I got up, and he scrambled to follow me, offering to walk me out. “No need. And if you don’t come home for the next few days, just book yourself a hotel room nearby.” He looked shocked but happily agreed. I grabbed my camera and set up camp at a café near Sunset Apartments. Around 9 PM, Sandra texted me that James had left the office. Lisa Woods left right after him. James called around the same time, saying he’d be staying at a hotel. I waited for about two hours before they came strolling back, hand in hand, like a couple of high school sweethearts. Oddly, I felt calm watching them. As they got closer, I snapped a few high-definition photos, focusing on their interlocked fingers. When I got home, I called an old friend to help me keep an eye on Lisa. The next day, around noon, I got a call. It was loud on the other end. “You won’t believe this. That woman’s pregnant.”

I quickly gathered myself. “Are you sure?” The person tailing Lisa had accidentally knocked her medical report out of her hands, giving them a quick look. Pregnant? A flood of old frustrations came rushing back. James’s mother had always wanted a grandson. When she found out I couldn’t have more children, she often came by to make things difficult for me. I laughed bitterly. James really thought he had it all figured out, didn’t he? If he wanted a son, there was always some woman out there willing to give him one. That afternoon, Sandra sent me another update. James had fired his old secretary and hired a new one. That wasn’t surprising. What was surprising was that he had personally hired a woman who hadn’t even finished middle school. Sandra quickly forwarded me her details. This was the first time James had ever used his position for something shady. I was curious. Her name was Christine Brown, and she came from the same town as James. No real education, no work history. If Christine had been one of James’s relatives, I would have heard about her. James was always extra careful not to mess up in front of my family, even refusing to help his own brother. I was stunned when I saw her address. She lived in the suburbs, not far from the factory. One of the places James frequently visited. Later that afternoon, I grabbed a seat at a café near the office. James usually ordered a coffee around 1:30 PM. With the old secretary gone, it had to be Christine who was picking it up now. Right on time, she showed up. In person, she looked older than in her photo. It was clear she wasn’t used to running errands. I walked up and helped her order. She gave me a deep, awkward bow. As she bent over, I noticed a necklace slip out from under her collar. It was a limited-edition piece I had seen in a catalog a month ago but hadn’t bought. I admit it—I judged her. “Nice necklace. What brand is it? I might get one for myself.” She instinctively reached to cover it, then let her hand drop. “My boyfriend bought it for me.” I returned to my seat and messaged the salesperson. Sure enough, last month, James had used my credit card to buy that necklace. I was confused but intrigued. Christine lived far from the office, a three-hour commute by subway. If she and James were involved, why hadn’t he moved her closer? She could have sold that necklace and gotten a better apartment. Sandra also informed me that Lisa had taken a few days off. Understandable, given the pregnancy. She probably wanted to rest up. James had also texted me, saying he wouldn’t be home tonight. My gut told me he wasn’t going to see Lisa. So, I took an Uber to Christine’s apartment and waited. Sure enough, the person tailing Lisa confirmed that James wasn’t with her. It wasn’t until after 8 PM that James finally showed up, carrying a bunch of stuff. One item stood out—a large Lego set. That couldn’t be for Christine, right? Was James seeing a woman with a kid? I didn’t stick around long and headed back home. James came home that night, too.

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I woke up in the middle of the night, thirsty. I got up to get some water from the kitchen. As I passed by the guest room, I heard some muffled noises coming from inside. I thought maybe Kelly Morgan, the nanny my mother-in-law, Mrs. Evelyn Adams, had brought in, wasn’t feeling well. I was about to knock on the door. Just as my fingers touched the doorknob, I heard my husband, Brian Adams’ voice, mixed with Kelly’s soft moaning. Her breathy sounds, almost whimpering, were unmistakable. As an adult, I knew exactly what was happening in there. The sounds were enough to make my skin crawl. My mind went blank for a moment, like a radio cutting out. I couldn’t decide if I was more furious or in complete shock. My legs gave out, and I slumped down to the floor, too weak to stand. Kelly was someone Mrs. Adams brought in from her hometown to be my nanny after I had just given birth to our son, Baby Ryan. I’d wanted to stay at the Mommy & Me Clinic for postpartum care, but when my mother-in-law saw the price tag, she insisted she could find someone better and cheaper who would let me recover comfortably at home. I wanted to refuse, but the eager look on Mrs. Adams’ face made me swallow back my protest. The day after I was discharged from the hospital, Mrs. Adams showed up with Kelly. Kelly had walked into our house wearing dark, faded slacks and a short-sleeved shirt that had clearly been washed one too many times. Her skin looked sallow, and her hair was tied back in a limp ponytail. When she saw me, she gave an awkward smile, nervously rubbing her hands on her pants and hiding behind Mrs. Adams, while her eyes darted all over the house. She was so young—was she even capable of being a nanny? I felt a wave of doubt rise in my chest. I pulled Mrs. Adams aside and whispered, “Isn’t this nanny a little too young?” Mrs. Adams laughed and patted my hand. “Oh, Amanda, don’t let her age fool you. Kelly’s great with kids.” Then she called Kelly over. Kelly quickly nodded and stepped forward. “Ma’am, I’ve got a big family—two younger brothers and a sister. I basically raised them all,” she said with a nervous laugh, puffing out her chest a bit. “I’m strong and tough. You can trust me with your baby.” I studied her face, trying to read if there was anything off. All I saw was sincerity. I hesitated for a moment, but Mrs. Adams made the decision for me. “Alright, Amanda, let’s have Kelly stay. If you’re not satisfied, we can always ask her to leave, okay?” Given the situation, I couldn’t very well tell her to go. So, Kelly stayed. I have to admit, during her first week, Kelly did a decent job. She took care of everything around the house with impressive efficiency. At first, I didn’t like her cooking. Her meals were far too greasy for my taste. But when she noticed I wasn’t eating much, Kelly quickly taught herself a few lighter dishes. And when it came to looking after Baby Ryan, she was always extra careful. I had no complaints when I saw her gently rocking my baby in her arms. I even mentioned to Brian, my husband, that maybe we should give Kelly a raise. Brian just laughed and said, “No need, not yet.” 2 But I had no idea that my trust was being traded for Kelly’s ambition. I must have been blind to keep a wolf like her in my home. Kelly’s moans grew louder in the guest room. Startled, I forced myself up, bracing against the doorframe. Then I heard Brian let out a final satisfied groan. They were both panting inside. Through the crack in the door, I could see Brian holding Kelly, the two of them lying naked together in bed. Kelly’s fingers were tracing circles on Brian’s chest. “Brian, when are you going to divorce Amanda? I can’t wait much longer,” she purred. Brian took her hand, kissed her fingers gently, and said, “Be patient, babe. The fun’s just getting started. Once I’ve got that old hag’s money, I’ll marry you, okay?” I froze. My scalp went numb. Kelly kept nagging him, clearly growing impatient. Turns out, Kelly and Brian had been engaged back in his hometown. Everyone there knew about their relationship. Everyone except for me—the fool they had tricked. I remembered the first time I went back to Brian’s hometown to meet his parents. The whole town had gathered at the entrance to greet us. When they saw me, there were these strange, sly smiles on their faces, making the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. I clung to Brian’s hand and nervously asked, “Why are people looking at me like that?” I remembered how nonchalantly he squeezed my hand and replied, “They’re just jealous that I married someone from the city.” Brian had strutted ahead, showing me off to the entire town. I overheard people whispering behind me, “That Brian sure knows how to play the game. Can’t believe he landed a city girl.” “Yeah, but it’s all because of his looks. What else does he have going for him?” “And what about his girl back home?” “Guess he’ll have one wife and one mistress.” I was walking too fast to catch the full conversation, but the bits and pieces I heard didn’t make sense to me at the time. Later on, Brian and I got married. Even though my parents weren’t thrilled about Brian, they agreed to the marriage for my sake. After we tied the knot, my parents bought us a nearly 2,000-square-foot house in a great school district and even gave us the funds to start our own business. With my help, we started a small company. We hit the market at the perfect time, and within a few years, the business was booming. Brian became a self-made millionaire. But now, all my hard work, all my dedication, had been repaid with betrayal. I was shaking all over, ready to burst into the room and tear those two apart. But my sense of reason kicked in. Now was not the time to confront them. Inside, Kelly asked, “Brian, is it because she gave birth to a son that you don’t want to divorce her?” My heart clenched. My son was my line in the sand. Brian chuckled in that strange way that echoed in the quiet of the room. “He’s my son too, isn’t he? Won’t he be yours when you’re raising him?” Kelly’s voice chimed in, “Yeah, and when he’s older, he’ll call me ‘Mom.’” The two of them laughed together. 3 I was completely numb. They were scheming to take not just my money, but my son, too. Well, let’s see how things play out. I won’t let them get away with anything. Then Kelly started up again, purring to Brian, “Honey, I want you again.” “You little minx. You’re going to wear me out,” Brian laughed. Within moments, their moans filled the room again, even louder than before, completely ignoring my presence in the house. I clenched my fists so tightly my nails dug into my palms, but I couldn’t feel the pain. After standing there for what felt like forever, I stumbled back into our bedroom. I lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep. Tears streamed uncontrollably down my face. I kept thinking about how Brian and I had started the business. Back then, it was just the two of us. I handled everything at the company—administration, financial reports, managing clients. And at home, I cleaned, did laundry, cooked. I was spinning like a top, working non-stop. After three years of my relentless efforts, the business finally took off. Brian had officially climbed out of that tiny town he came from. Now, every time he went back, he was greeted with fanfare. The town even put up banners when he returned, calling him their “great hope.” Mrs. Adams would walk around the town with her head held high, looking down on everyone. I remembered once when she came to visit us. She had pulled Brian aside in the kitchen and whispered, “Son, now that you’re a big-shot businessman, it’s time for you to have a son to carry on the family name, right?” I had seen Brian nod in agreement. “Yeah, I know.” Mrs. Adams had clapped her hands in delight and whispered, “Then you better hurry up. I want to be holding my grandson by next Christmas.” Brian had proudly puffed out his chest. “Don’t worry, Ma. I’m in great shape.” Hearing them talk, I had quietly retreated to our bedroom. Truthfully, I had always wanted a baby, too, but the company needed me, so I kept putting it off. When Brian finally brought it up, I was thrilled. Not long after, I found out I was pregnant. Brian insisted I stay home and focus on the pregnancy. His reasoning was that the business was running smoothly now, and I deserved to relax. When I hesitated, Brian had wrapped his arm around me and softly said, “Babe, just stay home and take care of yourself. Make sure our baby boy is nice and healthy.” I laughed and teased him, “How do you know it’s a boy? What if it’s a girl?” Brian’s face darkened. He furrowed his brows in annoyance. “The Adams family has always had sons, generation after generation. We need a boy to carry on the name.” Seeing the displeasure on my face, he quickly backtracked and added, “But of course, a girl would be fine too. As long as you’re the one giving birth to the baby.” After I got pregnant, Brian became even busier. He was often gone for entire nights, always tied up with meetings or client dinners. I was too naive. I actually believed he was working hard for the sake of our family. Little did I know, I’d been living a lie. A complete joke. Every time I thought about how Brian had been sneaking around with Kelly behind my back, I felt sick to my stomach. I couldn’t let this go. 4 Determined to get proof of their affair, I bought a few wireless cameras online. While Kelly was out grocery shopping, I installed the cameras in the guest room, living room, and kitchen. As expected, that very night, Brian and Kelly were at it again.

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After a month of relentless heat and drought, the temperature finally began to drop. Karen, my neighbor, saw me moving out and sneered, “What’s this? Finally decided to get lost?” Little did she know that our neighborhood was about to become an isolated zone of high-temperature acid rain. Those who couldn’t escape were doomed to die. I woke up from a nightmare, the pain of acid rain corroding my skin and bones still lingering, causing me to shiver uncontrollably. In the dream, a strange acid rain fell, residents scattered to escape, only to find that the neighborhood was covered by an invisible dome. Those inside couldn’t get out, and those outside couldn’t get in. I’ve always had a habit of hoarding things, so I could barely manage with the food I had at home. Karen, the neighbor downstairs, had a good relationship with me, so when I heard her plea for food, I immediately opened the door. But I never expected that Karen’s family was waiting at the door. As soon as I opened a crack, they violently pushed their way in. They ransacked my stored food and drinking water, tied me up, and pushed me out of the building. The acid rain fell on my body, corroding my skin into blisters. I cried out in pain and despair in the rain, trying to awaken a shred of conscience in them. They just gave me a cold look, “You little bitch, you were hiding quite a lot! It’s enough for our family to live on for a while!” My voice gradually grew weaker. The laughter of Karen’s family was still piercing, mixing with the sound of rain to form a horrifying symphony. Since heaven has given me this chance, I must survive at all costs.

After graduating from college, I went to work in another city. My parents, wanting me to live comfortably, bought a small two-bedroom apartment near my workplace. On the first day I moved in, Karen, the neighbor, came to talk to me proactively. She was the security guard for this area, her husband worked at the same company as me, and she had a son in high school preparing for his final exams. Being new to the city, Karen’s enthusiasm made me feel welcome. After learning that her husband worked with me, I let my guard down even more. Our company had good benefits, often distributing fruits and flour during holidays. I always used the excuse of living alone to give part of my benefits to her family. She would always accept them with a smile, not forgetting to compliment me. Looking back now, Karen seemed to always be taking things from me, but never gave me anything in return. Those light compliments were far less substantial than actual material goods. I couldn’t help but recall the pain of slowly losing my life in the acid rain in my dream. The moonlight outside the window flowed slowly, the neighborhood was peaceful, showing no signs of the hell on earth that would come in half a month. Karen’s cursing voice next door was particularly clear: “I must have been blind to marry into this family, I’m so unlucky to live with you people, a husband who doesn’t strive for success, a son who doesn’t study, how can my life be so miserable!” Then came the sound of dishes and bowls being smashed. I took out my phone and sent Karen a voice message on SnapChat, “You’re really noisy, even if your family life is bad, you shouldn’t disturb others in the middle of the night.”

Perhaps my sudden change surprised Karen for a moment. After half a minute of silence, Karen started smashing tables and chairs at home with renewed vigor. “Fine, you all bully me, and you, little bitch next door, don’t be so smug, you’ll have your day of misfortune!” Neighbors nearby were gradually woken up by the noise, but everyone tacitly remained silent. I should have realized earlier that in this neighborhood, no one associated with this family. Only I was still foolishly being kind to them. Realizing that no one was responding to her, Karen’s noise gradually died down. As soon as I woke up, I sent a message to a real estate agency, asking them to keep an eye out for a house nearby but in a different neighborhood. I needed to move. In the days before moving, I definitely couldn’t let Karen’s family have a comfortable life. The pain I suffered had to be returned in full.

The high temperature of over 40°C (104°F) had lasted for more than half a month. The company boss, considering the difficulty of employees coming to work, had arranged for an early vacation. I set an alarm for 4 AM, planning to go to a distant market to buy some living supplies first. Even though the days of acid rain might not affect me after moving out, I still needed to prepare for the abnormally high temperatures in the coming months. Although it was still half dark when I left home, I felt a wave of high temperature as soon as I stepped out. I quickly drove to the market, bought freeze-dried vegetables, sausages, and bottled water from several scattered stalls, then went to supermarkets and convenience stores to buy instant food and sanitary napkins and other daily necessities. Only after filling the trunk and back seat to the brim did I finally feel at ease. On the way back to the city, the real estate agent called me, saying there was a house for sale nearby. It wasn’t large, and because it was old, the price was cheap. I stopped the car by the roadside and talked to the agent on the phone, roughly understanding the situation of the house. The owner of the house lived abroad permanently and had only recently thought of selling the house. The landlord was cheerful and said that if I decided to buy, I could move in first, and the transfer procedures could be completed after he returned to the country. After repeatedly thanking the landlord, I moved the supplies I had bought into the new house.

When I returned to the neighborhood after moving the supplies, Karen was sitting in the shade of a tree to cool off. The continuous high temperature made the rooms very stuffy, and Karen, being of a stingy nature, absolutely wouldn’t turn on the air conditioning. Karen glanced at me coldly, muttering to herself, “You little bitch, still wandering around in such hot weather, you’ll be cooked into an idiot sooner or later.” I didn’t respond to her. Seeing this, Karen immediately became smug, “Little bitch, you don’t dare to speak after being scolded a couple of times. You’ve clearly been educated into stupidity, not as smart as my son.” I stood still under my parasol, staring at her. Karen became a bit nervous, “Little bitch, what are you standing there like a stick for?” I took out my phone, pointed at the camera by the building, and said, “When I first moved in, I was worried about the security here, so I paid to install this camera. I’ve recorded all the videos of you cursing just now. You wouldn’t want this video to appear in the neighborhood group chat and your husband’s work group, would you?” Karen stood up at once, looking like a short, dumpy bread man. She angrily pointed at me for a while: “You… you…” I replied with a smile: “Pretending to stutter isn’t good.” Karen was so angry that she wanted to walk out of the shade to hit me, but her legs were numb from sitting for too long. She tripped over her own feet, losing balance and falling flat on her face. Her left cheek touched the ground directly, and the scorching ground immediately blistered her skin. She tried to support herself up with her hands, grimacing, but her arm strength was simply not enough to support her body. The parts of her palms and arms that touched the ground quickly turned red, and she instinctively cried out “Ouch, ouch!” Her “good” son heard the commotion upstairs and ran down in slippers. There was a small step at the entrance of the building, and he stumbled, falling right on top of Karen. I couldn’t help but gasp, “What a beautiful scene.” Karen was in too much pain to speak now. She tried to push her son away, but the weight of a 200-pound grown man was not something an old woman could move. I sighed, took my phone, and went upstairs. Half an hour later, the property management staff found Karen and her son, and it took a great effort to pull them up. I roughly understood from the intermittent cursing from downstairs. — Karen’s son had fractured a bone, and the two of them had been baked into human jerky before someone came to rescue them.

Just as night fell, I heard someone frantically knocking on the door. I knew right away that it must be Karen’s family coming to make trouble. I bit into an ice pop and went to the door, looking through the peephole. I couldn’t help but laugh out loud when I saw two people wrapped up like mummies. Hearing my laughter, Karen angrily slapped her thigh. Probably because her eyesight was poor after the fall, she slapped her son’s freshly fractured leg. A high-pitched male soprano lit up the motion-sensor lights of the entire building. The man who had just returned from work looked helplessly at their farce, “Have you had enough? If you’ve had enough, hurry back home. Are you trying to make sure everyone at our company knows about your misdeeds?” Karen cried out, “What have we done? It’s clearly this little bitch who’s shameless! She’s the one who cursed us for no reason! You heartless man, instead of standing up for us, you’re helping outsiders!” The man angrily slapped Karen’s arm, “The property management has already told me everything. You were clearly the one who cursed her first! I’m still trying to get ahead in the company, hurry up and get downstairs.” The man cursed as he led Karen downstairs, the son hopping alone behind them. Looking at the state of their family, the anger in my heart subsided a bit. The acid rain was coming soon, and I needed to move out in the shortest time possible.

In the following days, I went out early every day to purchase living supplies, and packed my luggage late at night, completely reversing my schedule with others. Looking at the refreshed old house, I breathed a sigh of relief. The north-facing bedroom had been converted into a storage room, filled to the brim with various necessities. In my spare time, I prepared power banks and books, and downloaded many songs, variety shows, and web dramas onto a hard drive. After all, I didn’t know how long the high temperature weather would last, and I needed to find something to do. With everything prepared, I started to casually hint to nearby neighbors that my work was being transferred and I would soon be living in a new city. These days, the temperature seemed to be dropping slightly, and I knew that the acid rain was coming. Finally, on the day before the acid rain came, I loaded the remaining items into the car, ready to bid farewell to this place for good. Karen was still sitting in the shade of the tree, eyeing me sideways. The burns on her face hadn’t healed properly, making her look particularly comical: “What? Finally going to get lost?” I said, “Yes, you’ll never see me again.” Sitting on the sofa in my new home, a light rain started to fall. The rain had finally come.

Through the rain curtain, I could see a transparent barrier rising around the neighborhood I used to live in, extending from the ground all the way up into the cloud layer. The leaves quickly turned yellow and fell off under the rain’s wash. As raindrops hit the cement ground, a strange white smoke rose. The internet was in an uproar, and the local police department quickly issued several announcements. “Due to the current abnormal weather, please stay quietly at home and wait for further notice. Do not go out! Do not go out! Do not go out!” Karen quickly commented under the announcement: “You tell me not to go out and I won’t go out? My family’s living expenses depend on my husband going to work! You heartless police, just trying to avoid responsibility by troubling the citizens!” The police department ignored her and continued to post messages calling for people to stay indoors. Seeing no one responding to her, Karen became even more agitated: “I’m going out anyway, it’s so cool outside in the rain!” The police department finally got annoyed: “Dear netizen, it’s acid rain outside. For your own safety, please stay at home.” Karen continued to bombard with comments: “You say it’s acid rain and it’s acid rain? I’m going out anyway! I’m going to start a live stream, I’ll fight it out with those bastards at the police department today!” With that, Karen posted a live stream link to the neighborhood group chat. I switched to a small account and clicked into the live stream. There were already dozens of viewers in the stream, and looking at the nicknames, they were mostly residents of the neighborhood. Karen went downstairs holding her phone, not even bothering with an umbrella. “Hello everyone in the live stream, I’m going out in the rain now. Why won’t the police let us go out!”

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I supported my girlfriend through college, but she used my credit card to “support” a poor student at her school. Later, I canceled her card. She came to confront me: “You think you’re so great just because you have a few bucks? I don’t need your money.” If you don’t need it, why don’t you give the card back to me? My girlfriend, Sarah, sent me a message asking: “Baby, can you increase my living expenses a bit more?” I found it strange. Sarah wasn’t the type to spend money recklessly. In the past, if I tried to give her money, she would scold me for insulting her with money. But I didn’t think too much about it. Maybe the school needed to buy something? I immediately doubled her living expenses and told her to let me know if she needed money. Sarah received it and sent a “kiss” emoji, then disappeared. That strange feeling came over me again. Lately, my girlfriend only contacted me for money and never chatted about anything else. I thought maybe I had been neglecting her because of my busy work schedule, so I planned to surprise her at her school tomorrow. But I never expected the surprise to turn into a shock. Previously, Sarah had said she didn’t want her roommates to know she had a boyfriend who didn’t go to college but had money, or else they would spread rumors that she was being kept by someone. So whenever I visited her at school, I went as her brother. When I was about to reach her dormitory building, I saw her hugging a male student and walking away, laughing. I felt an icy coldness in my heart. I immediately sent Sarah a message asking what she was doing now. Sarah quickly replied: “Studying in the library.” Looking at the couple walking out of the school gate in front of me, my heart sank to the bottom.

I had seen this man before. During the summer vacation, Sarah and I went to Hawaii together. She went to the bathroom to apply sunscreen, and I waited outside. Her phone, left on the bed, lit up, and I saw that she had changed her lock screen photo to a picture of a guy. At the time, I didn’t pay much attention because she liked to follow celebrities, and they were all this type of guy, so I thought it was just another minor celebrity. Now it seems they were already involved at that time, and she was bold enough to change her screen lock. I also saw that guy sending her a message saying he didn’t have enough money. When I asked Sarah what wasn’t enough money, she was very calm and said that the school was holding a competition and didn’t have enough funds. She was the student council president, so she was in charge of the money. Later, she dragged me out to go swimming, and I forgot about it when we got back. My feelings were really complicated. Sarah and I had been together since high school. Back then, she was often bullied because people said her family was poor. I couldn’t stand it and stood up for her once. From then on, Sarah followed me every day, and slowly we got together. I didn’t get into college and went back to inherit the family business. She did very well in her exams, so I supported her through college. In high school, she was such a timid girl. How could she change so much in just three short years? I called her again that night, but no one answered. Very late, almost eleven o’clock, she finally sent me a message saying she had just returned to her dorm from the library. She also said she would come to see me tomorrow and had a gift for me, telling me to look forward to it. I really wanted to see what kind of trick she was going to pull.

I couldn’t sleep that night. I remembered that my friend’s new girlfriend was also from that school, so I asked him to help me find out about that guy. My friend, hearing about my situation, felt very sympathetic and sent me a lot of information within half an hour. That guy was known as a handsome “grass-roots” guy at school. He was good-looking but poor, and also a scholarship student. He was also in the student council and was very close to my girlfriend. People at school assumed they were a couple. The guy had pretty good grades at school and won the Inspirational Scholarship every year. Last year, he even became the school’s campus ambassador. However, this guy also had some bad reviews. Most of the girls who had dated him said he was quite a jerk, always asking the girl for money. If the girl said she had no money, he would immediately use cold violence to force a breakup, then seamlessly move on to the next one. Another point was that this guy loved playing games, and probably spent most of his money on games. As luck would have it, I had a very high rank in the game he played. I asked my friend if he had the guy’s contact information. My friend immediately sent a string of numbers. I searched and felt the avatar was familiar, like I had seen it in a game group I had joined. I went back to the main page and searched, and we were indeed in the same game group. He was quite active there. I thought for a moment, created a small account to join the group, posted a screenshot of my game rank, @ed him asking if he wanted to play together, then casually added him as a game friend and went to sleep.

When I woke up the next day, that guy had indeed accepted my friend request and asked if the game screenshot I posted in the group was my own. I said, “If you don’t believe me, why don’t I carry you for a couple of games?” While my girlfriend hadn’t arrived yet, I played games with him for an hour. After seeing me get MVP in every game, he treated me like his own brother. I looked at the time and remembered that my girlfriend would usually arrive at my place around this time, so I told the guy we’d play again next time. He replied, “Sure thing.” A moment later, my girlfriend also sent me a message saying she was at my doorstep. I went to open the door for her and felt a bit strange seeing her dressed up like a rich lady. In the past, if I bought her a dress, she would scold me for wasting money. Seeing me in a daze, my girlfriend playfully hit me. “What are you thinking about? Let me in.” I turned and walked back, and she called out from behind me, “Hey, why aren’t you helping me change my shoes?” I ignored her and walked straight to the sofa to lie down. My girlfriend changed her shoes herself and complained while carrying bags of things. “You’ve changed. You don’t care about me anymore.” I glanced at her and forced a smile. My girlfriend might have noticed my low mood and didn’t want to be too enthusiastic. She got angry with me. “What are you doing? I said I’d come to see you today, and you’re giving me the cold shoulder.” “You don’t deserve the gift I prepared for you.” At the mention of a gift, I became a bit interested. In our three years of dating, she had only bought me something once or twice, and that was when she needed something from me. The first time was when she bought me a lighter, then said her brother had gotten into a fight and was in jail, asking if I could help bail him out. The second time was when she bought me a tie, saying her parents wanted to help her brother with a down payment for a house, asking if I could help a bit. She said she would definitely pay me back and even insisted on writing an IOU. This time, was it her brother in trouble again?

Seeing my expectant face, my girlfriend thought I was going to comfort her. She “hmph”-ed and ignored me. I flipped through her so-called gifts and opened a pair of Nike sneakers. But I already had this same model, and obviously, the size was two sizes smaller than mine. They didn’t look new, more like second-hand. Seeing me put the gift aside indifferently, my girlfriend immediately exploded. “What do you mean? You think you’re great because you have money? I know you look down on me. I’ll never buy you gifts again.” I sneered, “The size is wrong. Are you sure you bought it for me?” My girlfriend looked to the side guiltily and quickly put the shoes back in the bag. “Well, I bought the wrong size! Do you have to be angry with me about this? This is my heartfelt intention, something money can’t buy.” As if to end this topic, my girlfriend immediately picked up another bag. “Look, I made you sunny-side-up eggs!” I looked at the porridge. Wasn’t this the “love breakfast” that guy had posted on Instagram earlier? What, she couldn’t finish it so she brought it to me? I showed no interest and didn’t even look at it. “I don’t want to eat.” My girlfriend finally exploded, yelling at me for half an hour, saying I wasn’t like this before. I fell asleep listening to her nagging. When I woke up, my girlfriend was gone. My phone had also received a message from her: “I won’t forgive you.”

After that, my girlfriend never contacted me again, but she still used the joint account I had set up for her as usual. I turned off the joint account and canceled her card. Immediately, my girlfriend sent me a message: “You’re despicable.” What? I became despicable just because I stopped giving you money? I ignored her and continued working. After just three days, my girlfriend came to reconcile. I looked at my girlfriend standing miserably at my doorstep, seemingly with a handprint on her face. As soon as she saw me, she pitifully burrowed into my arms and said tearfully, “My parents are asking me for money again.” After crying for a while and seeing that I wasn’t saying anything, she added, “Can you help me?” I thought for a moment, pulled her out of my arms, and said seriously: “It’s not that I don’t want to help you. My company is having financial difficulties recently. Why don’t you pay back the money I lent you before to help me out?” My girlfriend immediately stopped crying and stammered, “Where would I get money from?” “I give you so much money every month, you haven’t saved any?” My girlfriend changed the subject, saying there were many places at school that needed money. I could only shake my head regretfully. “Then there’s nothing I can do. I’m out of money too.” Hearing that I had no money, my girlfriend widened her eyes and asked how that was possible. I didn’t say anything, and my girlfriend came to nuzzle me, crying, though there seemed to be few tears on her face. “Please help me. If you don’t help me, my parents will come to the school. Then the whole school will know my family is poor.” Didn’t my girlfriend used to say in front of me that although she was materially poor, she was spiritually rich? Who possessed her now? I still didn’t agree, and my girlfriend probably didn’t believe I really had no money. She fell asleep crying on my sofa, feeling secure. At this time, her phone left on the table lit up. Looking at my girlfriend sleeping soundly, I opened her phone and saw her chat history with that guy. There’s only one word to describe it. Sugar mommy. What? I thought you were just cheating with someone else, I didn’t expect you to be playing sugar mommy. Using the money I gave you to be a sugar mommy to a junior, you’re really playing it big. That guy seemed quite good at flirting, sending abs photos and private photos frequently. My girlfriend didn’t look like the poor little white flower she pretended to be in front of me; in front of this guy, she was clearly a rich and beautiful sugar mommy. I looked and saw that my girlfriend had gotten together with him a month ago, and had transferred at least 100,000 to him back and forth. My girlfriend was particularly proud, saying she had an uneducated rich boyfriend who was a big fool. That guy praised my girlfriend for being so charming, reminding her to ask me for more money. So I was just a part of your play? If before I was just going to punish my girlfriend a little, now I was really heartbroken. Three years of feelings in her eyes were just being a big fool. Not going to college in her eyes meant I was uneducated and not worthy of her. Even feeding a dog for three years wouldn’t bite people like this. Since you’re not being kind, don’t blame me for being unkind.

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My mom wanted to marry me off to Lachlan Walker, the town’s simpleton, for money. I resisted with all my might and jumped into the deepest lake in the village. Lachlan lost his life trying to save me. I survived, only to be despised by everyone in the village. My brother died in a fight because he couldn’t afford school, my mom went crazy, and my dad threatened to beat me to death. In the end, I jumped into that lake again. When I woke up, I had been reborn to the day Lachlan came to my house to propose. Lachlan Walker was simple-minded but the best-looking man in town. His family had moved here five years ago, supposedly because a fortune teller said that if they lived in this town for six years, Lachlan would escape disaster and might even regain his senses. I learned all this in my past life when the whole village cursed me after Lachlan’s death. The Walker family had made significant contributions to the village and were highly respected in town. Now, Lachlan wasn’t dead yet, and I hadn’t become the village pariah. Lachlan walked through our broken doorway, a chicken in his left hand and a fish in his right. “Brynn, wife, for you!” he said. My mom took the items from Lachlan’s hands, grinning from ear to ear, and urged me to go for a walk with him. I had just woken up from my rebirth, my head spinning and memories jumbled. Before I could say anything, Lachlan grabbed my hand and pulled me outside. “Lachlan, be gentle!” I said. Hearing the anger in my voice, Lachlan apologized, “Sorry, wife!” Even though I had been reborn, even though Lachlan had saved me in my past life, I still rolled my eyes at him in disgust. “Who’s your wife?” Lachlan let go of me and started gesticulating wildly. “Brynn! Brynn! Wife!” My mom pushed me again, threatening me in a low voice, “The money for your brother’s wedding and your younger brother’s school fees all depend on you. Behave yourself, or I’ll beat you!” I shuddered. Worse than death was the beating and cursing from my whole family. Whenever I disobeyed, my dad would whip me with his belt, my mom would hit me with her slippers, my older brother would tie me up, and my younger brother would prick me with needles. In my past life, fearing to jump from one fire into another, I had jumped into the lake on the day Lachlan came.

Lachlan jumped up and down, shouting, “Brynn! Let’s go! Buy!” He pulled out some money from his pocket and waved it in front of me. I had barely gone to school, not even finishing elementary. I had never left the village and had only seen ten or twenty-dollar bills. I had never seen what a hundred-dollar bill looked like. Now Lachlan was holding hundred-dollar bills, saying he wanted to buy me things. It felt like a dream. My mom pushed Lachlan towards me, smiling, “Go on! Look how much Lachlan likes you!” Lachlan took my hand, and this time, I didn’t refuse. As we walked through the village, eyes were everywhere – curious, probing, and mostly mocking. “Only Rosemary would be willing to marry her daughter off to a simpleton like Lachlan Walker, and an outsider at that!” “Rosemary got two thousand dollars! She can pay for her eldest son’s wedding, send her youngest to school, and even fix up the house. What a great deal!” “Her dad’s always saying Brynn’s a money-losing proposition. Well, look at her now, earning big bucks for him! It’s just a shame for the poor girl, abused at home and now marrying a simpleton!” Rosemary was my mother’s name. What a beautiful name! Even with my limited education, I knew it was a pretty name, but my mother never bothered to give me one. The name Brynn, I had chosen for myself when I started elementary school. They only ever called me “Unlucky” or “Little bitch.”

Lachlan held my hand tightly and whispered in my ear, “Brynn, don’t be scared! I won’t bully you! I’ll take care of you!” Around us, people snickered, mocking the simpleton for wanting to take care of a wife. I looked at Lachlan, the words “I’ll take care of you” echoing in my ears. Even my parents, who had given birth to me, never bothered to take care of me. A few days after I was born, my mom got sick. The whole family clamored that I was a star of misfortune, bringing disaster to my mother as soon as I was born. They dumped me on my grandmother. My grandmother raised me for three years. I never spoke a word, and she called me unlucky, saying I couldn’t even talk. She sent me back. From then on, my life changed from occasionally going hungry to being hungry and beaten every day. “Brynn! Hot! Eat!” Lachlan pulled out a paper-wrapped package from his jacket. When he opened it, there was a steaming hot bread roll. I swallowed hard. At home, my youngest brother always ate first, then my older brother, then my parents, and finally me. By the time I finished washing clothes and doing chores, there was only a bit left at the bottom of the pot. I had never eaten anything hot, let alone a bread roll. “Really for me?” I asked, surprised and delighted, my stomach starting to growl. Lachlan nodded, pushing the bread towards my hands. “For Brynn, eat!” I took the bread and started eating, my mouth full, but still managing to give Lachlan a big smile. In my past life, on the day Lachlan came to my house, all I did was cry and run away. I never paid any attention to Lachlan. If I had eaten Lachlan’s bread in my past life, I might not have thought about jumping into the lake. Because the bread was so good! I had never eaten such delicious, warm bread before! I wanted to eat more in the future…

“Brynn Summers! What are you doing wandering around in the middle of the day?” Hearing this voice, I couldn’t help but tremble all over. I saw my older brother, Derek Summers, walking over. He immediately grabbed my arm, forcibly pulling me away from Lachlan. The remaining uneaten bread fell to the ground. Derek’s angry roar rang in my ears: “Oh! Not going home to do chores, but out here eating bread!” Derek stepped on the bread, crushing it to pieces, as if he wanted to crush my dreams along with it. “Brother…” I called out fearfully, “Mom told me to come out.” “Brynn Summers!” Derek continued to shout in my ear, his expression twisted, “Don’t think that just because you’re marrying a simpleton, you’ll be living the high life! Don’t forget, you’re my sister. You should always think of your family, got it?” Derek worked at the only distillery in town. Whenever his boss berated him at work, he would come back to beat and curse me, saying I was unlucky and that I had passed my bad luck to him since birth, causing him to have no money or status. But what did that have to do with me? I was just a child born with a mother but raised without one. “Don’t bully Brynn!” Lachlan pushed away Derek, who was grabbing me, and shielded me behind him, pointing at Derek’s nose and scolding, “You’re bad!” Derek raised his hand to hit Lachlan without a word. “Derek Summers! What are you doing?” “Derek, stop right now!” The town mayor and my mom came from different directions. Seeing this, Derek waved his hand, put on a smile, and said, “Good afternoon, Mayor! Mom, why are you out too? Haven’t you made lunch?” Usually, Derek would come home for lunch after work, and my mom would have food ready for him. If he went hungry, I would inevitably receive another beating.

“Derek Summers! If you want to beat your own sister, do it at home! Who do you think you are to hit Lachlan?” the mayor glared at Derek angrily. Lachlan was a frequent guest at the mayor’s house. From what my mom had said, he often gave money to the mayor. The roads in town were paved with that money, the school was built with it, and even the only distillery was constructed with those funds. Derek could beat me behind closed doors at home, but he couldn’t touch anyone from the Walker family in public. My mom looked at Derek, giving him a meaningful glance, completely ignoring me, showing no concern whatsoever. But I was used to it. “Mayor, he’s too much!” Lachlan pointed at Derek, then at me. “He hit Brynn! He’s bad!” The mayor nodded, “Yes, yes, Derek is bad.” He looked up at Derek, “Derek, why don’t you take your sister home? If you want to beat her, scold her, or teach her a lesson, do it at home!” I fearfully leaned closer to Lachlan. Derek must have been upset at work, and now, not having eaten lunch, he would definitely beat me when we got home. Lachlan protected me, “Don’t be afraid! Brynn! Come to my house!” Derek shouted, “You’re not even married yet! How can that be? Brynn’s coming home with me!” My mom reached out to grab me, “That’s right, Lachlan. You’re not married yet! This won’t do. Once your family sends the money, I’ll give Brynn to you right away!” My heart sank. So my mom hadn’t received the two thousand dollars yet! I couldn’t go with Lachlan! Knowing my mom’s nature, she wouldn’t let me go without getting the money. “Lachlan…” I looked at Lachlan longingly, really wanting another bite of that warm bread. The mayor spoke up, “Lachlan, go home and tell your parents that getting married costs money. There needs to be a wedding feast! Only then can Brynn become your wife and go home with you, understand?”

“I understand! I’ll marry Brynn! I’ll go get money!” I watched as Lachlan was convinced by their few words. I quickly grabbed him, “I have a couple of words I want to say to Lachlan in private!” The mayor looked at my mom, my mom looked at me, and I anxiously waited. “Brynn, speak! I’m listening.” Lachlan leaned his ear closer. I glanced at my mom and my older brother, finally getting my mom’s permission. I knew that even if I married Lachlan, they wouldn’t let me go. So, I whispered something in Lachlan’s ear. Lachlan nodded vigorously, looked at me once, and ran off. Then I was dragged home by Derek, my toes barely touching the ground as he gripped the back of my collar. Derek still beat me. This time he only hit places that others couldn’t see, then threw me into the cellar. This was a place I often stayed. Now, apart from a few dry sweet potatoes, there was nothing else, just darkness and dampness. “Mom, how could you marry her off for just two thousand dollars? It costs me eight thousand eight hundred to get a wife!” Derek’s voice came from above the cellar. “Eight thousand eight hundred could get you two wives! Red from the front village, her mom told me it would only cost four thousand eight hundred. Once the money’s there, she’ll be yours right away!” Ruby? Ruby was two years younger than me, only sixteen this year! Derek was already twenty-five after the New Year! Besides, Ruby said she wanted to go work in the city, to see a broader world, not to get married and stay here for life! When Ruby said this, there was a light in her eyes. I envied her fiercely, thinking how great it would be if I could go work in the city too, and escape my family! “Ruby? Ruby’s great! Ruby’s figure is so slim! Mom, let’s get Ruby! Hurry and bring Ruby over!” Derek exclaimed excitedly. “What’s the rush? Wait until Lachlan brings the betrothal gift, then I’ll bring Ruby back for you. These couple of days, don’t beat that dead girl too much, don’t cause any more trouble…” Their voices grew fainter, and I couldn’t hear anymore. In my past life, I didn’t marry Lachlan, my mom didn’t get the money, and Derek didn’t get a wife. But now I could barely save myself, how could I save Ruby? Did I have to die again?

I was starved for two days and two nights. I thought I was about to die when Lachlan came with two thousand dollars, bringing his dad and the mayor to marry me. Mr. Walker held two pieces of paper in his hand. Seeing how weak I looked, he angrily put the papers on the table, insisting that everyone in my family sign and put their fingerprints on them. My mom couldn’t read, so she handed the papers on the table to my older brother and asked the mayor, “What does this mean?” The mayor said, “Mr. Walker means that you’re marrying your daughter to his son. They’ll give you two thousand dollars, and from now on, your daughter will be part of their family, with no more connection to you.” My mom wasn’t happy about this: “Why? I gave birth to her and raised her! This is like selling my daughter!” My older brother looked at the black and white text, then pulled my mom aside to discuss. My dad was a true farmer, working in the fields all day. My younger brother had just started elementary school and needed money for many things, so our family had almost no savings left. That’s why my brother hadn’t been able to get married for so many years. My brother was determined to get Lachlan’s money. “I’ve discussed it with my mom. We’ll give this dead girl to you, no problem! But two thousand dollars is definitely not enough!” My brother held up one hand to Mr. Walker, “It has to be this much! Otherwise, no one’s taking her away!” Five thousand dollars? My brother had gone crazy for money! Five thousand dollars was enough for our family to live on for several years!

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Grandma Lily, at the ripe age of 70, had fallen head over heels into an online romance. She was sending mushy messages on SnapChat and even spent $1,000 on her young “boyfriend” to boost his online business performance. No one could talk her out of it. Aunt Sarah pointed her finger at Grandma and scolded, “At your age, have you no shame? You’re embarrassing us all!” But I stood firmly by Grandma’s side. After all, I was the one behind her online romance. Grandpa had left behind an inheritance of $100,000. On his deathbed, he explicitly stated that after Grandma passed away, all the money should go to his grandsons. Aunt Sarah puffed up like a peacock, proud as can be, since she had two sons. Aunt Jessica chimed in, not to be outdone, “I have a son too.” As the granddaughter, I naturally wouldn’t see a penny of it. Mom was furious. For years, our family had been the ones taking care of Grandpa and Grandma. Even when Grandpa fell ill, it was my parents who footed the medical bills. Grandpa believed that since I was a girl, I’d eventually marry and leave the family, so there was no need to leave me any inheritance. Uncle Robert and Uncle Michael’s families only visited Grandpa and Grandma once a year during New Year’s, yet Grandpa welcomed them with open arms. He’d say that Aunt Sarah and Aunt Jessica were the family’s greatest contributors for giving birth to sons. Every time he said this, Mom’s head would droop so low it almost touched the ground. She felt guilty for not giving Dad a son. That’s why she bent over backward to care for Grandpa and Grandma. During family gatherings, Mom was always the one running around, taking care of everything. But no matter what, I was still Grandpa’s granddaughter. His decision truly angered Mom. Dad, being the soft-spoken person he was, didn’t say much. Grandma had lived her entire life under Grandpa’s thumb, treating his words as gospel. I was raised by Grandma. She always doted on me, taking me to school, buying me clothes and treats. But under Grandpa’s influence, she still agreed to follow his wishes. When my parents ran out of money paying for Grandpa’s medical bills, Mom asked Grandma to borrow money for my college tuition. Grandma, who usually spoiled me, hesitated and refused: “Your grandpa said the inheritance is for his grandsons.” “Girls will eventually marry into other families anyway.” “Your grandpa is the head of the family. I have to listen to him.” Even though Grandma usually treated me well, there was no room for negotiation on this matter. Aunt Sarah approached Grandma, sucking up to her: “Mom, look at Ryan. He’s about to get married and really needs the money. We have two sons, so we should get more of the inheritance, right?” Aunt Jessica wasn’t about to back down either. “Dad said it’s for the boys, but he didn’t say your two sons should get more.” “When it comes to giving out New Year’s money, Dad always gives my son Jason $100, while your two sons only get $100 combined.” Grandma got angry and slammed her bowl on the table with a loud “bang”: “Your father said to divide it after I’m dead. I’m not dead yet, and you’re already planning to split the inheritance?” They apologized, saying “How could we think that?” But in their hearts, they knew exactly what they were doing. How much money could an old lady from a small town spend? Whatever was left would be theirs, right? Back in our room, Mom looked dejected: “I told your dad we should set aside money for your college, but he wouldn’t listen. He insisted your grandpa would remember how good we’ve been to them.” At this point, Mom was getting angry. She scoffed: “Don’t come to me if any of you Johnsons need anything in the future.” “Bella is my precious daughter. From now on, all the money I earn is for Bella.” Dad knew he was in the wrong and didn’t dare say a word.

After Grandpa passed away, I noticed Grandma had changed. Especially these past few days, she’d been acting mysteriously. She used to go for a walk after dinner without fail. But lately, she’d rush back to her room right after eating and stay cooped up for hours. It was as if she had some treasure to guard in her room. She seemed unusually excited, her eyes sparkling like a young girl in love. I quietly snuck to her window and peeked inside. Grandma was grinning at her phone. It was a phone I bought her last year and taught her how to use SnapChat on. Could it be that she was hooked on TikTok? As I was thinking this, Grandma called out to me, asking for help with her phone: “Bella, can you take a look at Grandma’s phone? It’s not working.” “It’s frozen.” I took the phone and examined it. There were too many junk apps, and those malicious ads wouldn’t close. I tinkered with it for a while and discovered it was full of bloatware. “Grandma, I’ll fix it and bring it back to you in a bit.” Grandma seemed a bit uneasy and urged me to fix it quickly. I readily agreed. The phone didn’t have any major issues. After deleting the junk apps and downloading some antivirus software, it would be fine. The phone’s storage was limited, so I cleared out a lot for her. She was following many marketing accounts on Instagram, and I was about to unfollow them when I suddenly saw some explicit messages Grandma had sent, making me blush. “You’re my little sweetheart. Chatting with you every day is the happiest thing in my life.” “I love you too. You’re the most heart-fluttering treasure in my life.” “I want to meet you in person!” … There were also long voice messages after that. In my mind, Grandma had always been frugal and proper, always following Grandpa’s words. I couldn’t imagine such mushy words coming out of Grandma’s mouth. This kind of account was clearly designed to scam elderly people. They’d send messages like “Sister, I miss you so much” every day. But Grandma thought she had found her soulmate and was chatting enthusiastically. A thought suddenly popped into my head. I could pretend to be Grandma’s online romance. Grandma would get the emotional connection she craved, and I’d get money. It was a win-win situation. “Mom, I’ve got my tuition covered,” I said to myself.

I created a new SnapChat account with the nickname “Ray.” The friend request was accepted immediately. Grandma didn’t understand: “Ray, why are you messaging me from a different account?” I replied: “I created this new account just for you. You’re the only contact on it.” Grandma responded with a shy emoji, like an 18-year-old girl. Over the next few days, we chatted passionately. Grandma was slow with typing, and Uncle Robert accidentally saw her messages. These past few days, the competition between Uncle Robert and Uncle Michael had reached a fever pitch. Uncle Michael’s family had been secretly trying to curry favor, and Uncle Robert was afraid Grandma would give all the inheritance to the second son’s family. So he’d been visiting more frequently lately. He sat by Grandma’s bed, cracking sunflower seeds and making a mess on the floor. At one point, he accidentally glimpsed Grandma’s SnapChat. The chat window was still open on the message: “I love you too, you’re my sweetheart.” He jumped up, his face flushing with anger. He snatched the phone and scrolled through the chat history, feeling like his world view had been shattered: “Mom, how could you do something to betray Dad?” “At your age, aren’t you ashamed?” Hearing Uncle Robert’s roar, the others finally learned that Grandma had started an online romance. Dad stood in the corner, quietly defending Grandma: “It’s good for Mom to have someone to talk to and keep her company.” Recently, Mom had a change of heart. She went on strike, refusing to cook or take care of the family. Instead, she spent her days gardening, buying clothes, and pampering herself. She wasn’t as attentive to Grandma as before. Grandma had no one to talk to every day and could only talk to herself. I completely understood Mom. Although Grandma raised me, there was no reason for Mom to fulfill the obligation of caring for her on behalf of Dad and me. Uncle Robert wouldn’t let it go. He insisted on knowing who the old man on the other end was. Grandma was both embarrassed and angry, pointing at Uncle Robert but unable to speak for a while. It wasn’t clear if she felt ashamed that her son knew about her private matters or if she was angry that Uncle Robert didn’t understand her. “What law am I breaking? Your father is gone, and I can’t even find someone to talk to?” Aunt Sarah and Aunt Jessica chuckled softly, as if they were watching Grandma make a fool of herself. Grandma suggested that the children take turns staying at home to keep her company, and she would stop the online romance. But no one agreed. Uncle Robert said he was busy with work, and Uncle Michael said he had to take care of his kids. Aunt Sarah tried to smooth things over, saying that since Grandma was only having an online romance and hadn’t done anything illegal, they should just let the old lady be. Seeing someone offering a way out, Uncle Robert stopped talking, his face still sour. Everyone tacitly agreed to this arrangement.

I watched coldly as they put on their act. I wasn’t going to stop at just an online romance. I needed to make money too. With my college tuition on my mind, I felt the time was right to start asking Grandma for money in Ray’s name. I asked for money without any guilt. My parents had taken care of Grandpa and Grandma in their old age, paid for their medical bills, but Grandpa wouldn’t spare a penny. I hated this behavior, but unfortunately, Grandpa was already dead. I could only try to get back my parents’ hard-earned money from Grandma. I sent Grandma a message on SnapChat: “Darling, Ray can’t chat with you every day anymore. I’m out of money and need to go find work.” Grandma immediately became anxious: “At your age, where can you go to work?” Then she transferred $200. “Take this money and buy some groceries.” I quickly accepted the money. “Thank you, darling. Now I don’t have to work for a month and can spend time with you.” Seeing the sudden $200 in my SnapChat account, I rolled on the bed laughing. Who knew a few caring words could be worth so much to Grandma? I called out to Grandma, who was fanning herself outside: “Grandma, do you want some bubble tea?” It was a hot summer day, and I rode my bike home with two iced bubble teas. Grandma clumsily inserted the straw and took a sip. Her eyes immediately lit up: “This stuff is really good!” She took several more big sips as she spoke. “Bella, this bubble tea is so delicious. Is it expensive?” I rolled my eyes and said: “Very expensive! Over $10 a cup!” Grandma’s eyes widened. She looked at the fancy cup in her hand, seemingly unable to believe it could be so expensive. But after a while, she nodded and pulled out $50 from her pocket: “Expensive things do taste better. Bella, Grandma will give you money. Next time, bring Grandma another cup.” I happily went back to my room. Within two minutes, Ray’s SnapChat received another $20: “Ray, bubble tea is delicious. Go get yourself a cup too.” Over the next few days, I made money hand over fist just by chatting with Grandma. It didn’t take long before I had saved up enough for my tuition. “Darling, at this age, you should be good to yourself. Let the younger generation worry about themselves.” “Why should my treasure sacrifice for a big family?” “At this age, it’s time to enjoy what your children can give back.” I didn’t expect Grandma to accept new ideas so quickly. As soon as I said it, she understood and even thanked me for making her see things clearly.

Uncle Robert and Uncle Michael’s families had been visiting more frequently lately. In the past, they only came back twice a year, claiming they were busy with work and had to take care of their children. Now, Uncle Robert came home once a week, bringing Grandma milk, fruits, and supplements. Uncle Michael sent Aunt Jessica over to care for Grandma, accompanying her shopping and exercising. They were competing to see who could be more filial. In the past, Grandma used to eat and live at our house for free. After Mom stopped taking care of her, the task of cooking for Grandma fell to them. They were shrewd. When they went out to buy vegetables, they would ask Grandma for money. Uncle Robert bought a box of apples online, and when he was about to pay using Grandma’s SnapChat, he exploded: “Mom, you had $2,000 in your account for pocket money last month. How come there’s less than $1,000 now?” Uncle Robert kept a close eye on Grandma’s bank card and the money in her phone. Not a single change escaped his notice. Grandma’s online romance wasn’t a big problem, but an online romance that cost money was a major issue. Uncle Robert fumed, roaring in the house: “You won’t give money to your son, but you’ll go support a toyboy?” “They’re all scammers! Scammers!” Uncle Robert felt he was in the right, so he called everyone in the family for a meeting. Grandma used to revolve her life around her husband and children, but since Grandpa passed away, her behavior had shocked everyone. Uncle Robert’s face was ashen. This time, he was several levels angrier than before: “At your age, not only are you having a romance but also supporting a toyboy. If you’re not embarrassed, we are! And how can you face Dad?” Everyone sighed and shook their heads: “Mom, you used to be such a good person. How did you become like this?” Uncle Michael sat on a small stool, trying to reason with her: “Mom, we all work hard to earn money. It’s one thing if you spend it on yourself, but you can’t just give it away to strangers.”

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One day,I accidentally discovered that I could share sensations with my husband. Not only could I feel the pain from his injuries,but I could also experience the pleasure he felt when doing things he loved. Until one night,while he was live-streaming a skydiving event from the United States,I watched as he and his female partner soared together—and suddenly,I felt an indescribable surge of pleasure… My husband,Chase,is a thrill-seeker,especially passionate about skydiving. I,on the other hand,am a professional designer—one of us is always on the move,while the other is steady,and that’s how fate brought us together. Extreme sports often take place abroad,so Chase and I spend a lot of time apart. After one skydiving accident,Chase broke his leg,forcing him to come back to the States and stay in the hospital for a while. When I brought him some chicken noodle soup to the hospital,he was engrossed in watching a live stream. I leaned over to take a peek at his iPad screen,which read: “#The Inaugural National Paragliding Championship–Qualifiers in Progress.#” I sighed,“Babe,can we stop with these dangerous sports?” Chase loves skydiving and paragliding.He’s had dozens of metal pins put into his body because of it. He’s taken his hobby to an elite level,even competing in the Pro Circuit internationally. Startled by my presence,he still smiled cheekily and shook his head. “Lily,I know you worry about me,but this is what I live for.The thrill and excitement I get from these sports are like nothing else.” I gazed at Chase’s handsome face,momentarily lost in thought. Extreme sports are a rich man’s hobby,not something the average person can afford.And since he doesn’t need to work,Chase is clearly a trust fund baby. People envy me for marrying a rich and attractive man,but what they don’t see is how we can never be together all the time. Honestly,I envy his teammates more than anyone. I spooned some chicken noodle soup into Chase’s mouth,and he grinned happily. “My wife is amazing,the perfect woman who can run the house and cook!I risk my life outside,but I never have to worry about things at home.” I quickly shoved a piece of chicken into his mouth. “Stop talking about life and death,would you?” Since our marriage,Chase has been home very little.I’ve been the one taking care of everything for his family,handling all the domestic affairs. He coughed violently after choking on some soup,but still laughed mysteriously. “You’re worried about your husband,huh?Haha,I should give you a kid soon so you won’t miss me so much.” Just as we were joking around,a gorgeous woman knocked on the door and walked in,smiling as she took off her sunglasses. “Oops,didn’t mean to interrupt you two.” The moment I saw Sophie Lee,I froze.I had seen her in countless photos on Chase’s Instagram. Sophie was his long-time paragliding partner,an Asian-American,and they’d won many trophies together on the Pro Circuit. Even though she spent years outdoors,her skin was still smooth and glowing,with an enviable hourglass figure and long legs that would make anyone jealous. She was dressed provocatively,wearing a skimpy tank top that revealed a lot in this cool weather,completely unbothered by the chill. She waltzed in,playfully flicked Chase’s forehead,and lifted the blanket to inspect his injured leg. “What’s up with you?Can’t believe you managed to hurt yourself like this.” I was shocked because Chase was lying there with only his underwear on,and Sophie was acting like it was the most natural thing in the world. Noticing my discomfort,she laughed openly. “We’re the best partners on the field and practically siblings off it.Hope you don’t mind,Lily?” Chase quickly covered his leg. “She might not mind,but I do!Give me some privacy here,would you?” As they bantered back and forth,I couldn’t help but notice the sudden change under the blanket.Chase had clearly reacted to Sophie’s presence. Was I imagining it,or had my husband just…responded to her?

After Sophie left,the doctor came in to check on Chase’s leg. As the doctor adjusted his cast,I saw Chase wince in pain.But the next moment,I felt a sharp,stabbing pain in my own leg—right where his injury was. The pain was so intense,I collapsed onto the floor,leaving both Chase and the doctor startled. “Lily,what’s going on?My leg’s hurting,not yours!Why are you limping?” I quickly rolled up my pant leg to check,but there was nothing there—no injury at all. And after the doctor finished with Chase’s leg,the pain in mine vanished. Could I have…shared Chase’s sensation just now? Suspicious but uncertain,I shook my head. “It’s nothing.I’ve just been sleeping poorly lately,and seeing you in pain made me feel weak.” Chase squeezed my hand apologetically. “You’ve been so amazing,juggling work and looking after me.No wonder you’re worn out.” His caring words made me forget my doubts,and I tucked him in before heading off to work. The rest of the afternoon flew by in a blur of tasks,but on my way home,Chase called me. His voice was low and lazy,laced with a magnetic pull. “Babe,I’ve been thinking…Once I’m out of here,how about we finally start trying for a baby?” We’d been married for three years,but with Chase traveling constantly,we hadn’t had time to start a family.And every time he came home,our passion burned like wildfire. As a man with a strong physique and an intense desire for adventure,Chase had a lot of energy to burn in other areas,too. His tone was familiar,and I could guess where this conversation was headed.Sure enough,he wanted me to say his name.I blushed and scolded him. “Seriously?You’re still in the hospital!Stop messing around.” “Come on,it’s just me here.No one’s going to hear.” Chase was in a private,soundproofed VIP room,with the doctors and nurses far away on night shift duty. “Hurry up,babe.I can’t wait any longer.” Reluctantly,I turned on the video call and did what he asked. Just moments later,I heard something…suggestive on the other end.Mortified,I was about to hang up when suddenly,I felt a strange,electrifying sensation sweep through my body. Two minutes later,Chase finished. He stared at the flushed expression on my face over the video,grinning as he caught his breath. “Well,well,babe.Seems like you were feeling the same thing as me,huh?” My heart skipped a beat.Had I just shared his sensation again? Over the next few weeks,I gradually realized that whenever Chase experienced intense physical sensations,I could feel them too. Chase was always getting into scrapes overseas,and he rarely told me the truth.So,I kept this secret to myself,not wanting to worry him. Not long after his release from the hospital,Chase was back to his old ways.He booked a flight to California for the National Paragliding Championship. He told me that the thrill of conquering nature was the only thing that could truly satisfy him anymore.Money and material comforts just weren’t enough. I sighed and gave him a hard pinch at the airport. “Fine,but don’t come crying to me if you end up getting carried off a plane again.Be safe!” Chase laughed,pulling me in for a kiss. “Don’t worry,babe.I’m counting on you to give me good news when I get back.” My face heated at the thought.Before he left,Chase and I had been trying for a baby,and he had promised to quit extreme sports once we had one and settle down. Once I was sure his flight had landed in California,I called him on video chat. “Hey,did you guys make it there safely?” It was already dark here,but over there,the sun was still shining brightly. To my surprise,it was Sophie who answered.She was draped over Chase’s shoulder,laughing. “Don’t worry,Lily.I’ve got Chase under control.He won’t lose a hair on his head.” Seeing her so casually taking my place by his side,I suddenly felt a pang of discomfort. This time,they were competing as a pair in the doubles paragliding event,which would be live-streamed for everyone to watch. At 10:30 PM,I anxiously tuned in to the broadcast. When Chase’s turn finally came,I could feel how excited he was. My heart pounded in sync with his as they took off into the sky,their paragliders soaring over the lush green fields below. The camera zoomed in,capturing their faces as they flew.I could see the exhilaration in Chase and Sophie’s twisted expressions. I couldn’t help but think:Is this what extreme sports feel like? Suddenly,I felt a wave of indescribable pleasure wash over me,and I clenched my thighs in response.

The announcer was rambling on,describing how fully immersed the pair seemed in the experience. A chill ran down my spine.The sensation was unlike anything I’d felt before—something far more intense than usual. It felt like I was flying too,reaching a euphoric height beyond my imagination. But what shocked me the most was that Chase was supposed to be in the middle of the competition! How could he be feeling…this? After the rush passed,sweat beaded on my forehead.I stared at them intently,watching as they landed smoothly. They looked completely calm,clothes intact,and even chatted casually with a reporter. But I still couldn’t shake my confusion. Finally,during Sophie’s interview,her voice trembled ever so slightly,betraying something. “So,how was this flight experience for you?” “Oh,it was…just as thrilling as always.Really amazing.I have to thank my partner for making it unforgettable.” Her voice quivered with excitement as she spoke,though she tried to play it off. I called Chase to congratulate him on making it through the qualifiers. He laughed as usual,his voice full of confidence. “How about that?Your husband nailed it,didn’t he?This championship is mine.” I kept my questions to myself,not wanting to raise suspicion.After all,without solid proof,how could I accuse them of doing something like that in mid-air? That night,I couldn’t sleep at all. I scrolled through international news and stumbled upon an article about a couple caught getting intimate on a hot air balloon.The man got so carried away that he accidentally pushed the woman out,resulting in her death.The footage was captured by their own recording device,and the man was charged with manslaughter. The comment section was buzzing: “Talk about living on the edge!” “If I were that guy,I’d be bragging about this for life.” “She probably died happy,at least…” As I read through the comments,my suspicions grew.I tossed and turned,wondering if Chase,the man I’d been married to for three years,had really betrayed me. To understand just how far things could go in the world of extreme sports,I decided to fly to California and try paragliding for myself. When I arrived at their training base,Chase was visibly surprised. Feigning ignorance,I threw my arms around him. “Hey,babe!Did you miss me?I took some time off just to come see you.” Sophie was standing nearby,dressed in a tight black sports outfit that accentuated her figure. She gave Chase a teasing nudge with her elbow. “Chase,your little wife sure is attached.She crossed the ocean just to be here with you.” Chase didn’t seem particularly happy about my arrival.If anything,he looked slightly irritated that I had intruded into his world. “What are you doing here?If you don’t have any business,why don’t you head back to the Marina Heights Apartments and rest?Think of this as a vacation.” I shook my head and wrapped my arms around his neck. “No,I’m here for a reason.After watching your last match,I got so excited that I wanted to try paragliding myself.” Chase hesitated for a moment before realizing that I was dressed in a specially designed jumpsuit,ready to take flight. He grabbed my hand,his expression unreadable. “Lily,as a professional,I have to warn you—this sport is dangerous.It’s not something regular people should try lightly.” I shrugged off his concern. “Don’t worry.I’ve been watching your competition videos for years.Plus,there’s an instructor here,so what’s the harm?” “I’m really curious about what kind of view—and thrill—could keep you away from home for three whole years.” I truly wanted to know. So,I hired a well-built,handsome white instructor from the base,whose muscles were practically bursting through his T-shirt. The weather was perfect,with a gentle breeze and clear skies—the ideal conditions for flying. Chase sighed when he realized he couldn’t change my mind. “Alright,just be careful.People here are pretty open,you know.” I ignored him,as the instructor carefully strapped me into the gear and went over all the safety instructions. Then,he positioned himself behind me,wrapping his arms around me to control the direction. Finally,we caught a gust of wind and began running down the hill. “Little lady,we’re taking off now!” I didn’t even have time to register his words before I felt something hot press against my back.My mind went blank. Before I could react,the paraglider had already lifted off the ground,and we were soaring into the valley.

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David and Linda Thompson doted on their daughter Emily as if she were the center of their world, but due to an accidental pregnancy, they had a son, Ryan. To make it up to me, they sent me to Phillips Exeter Academy, dressed me in designer clothes, and handed me everything I ever wanted. Ryan, on the other hand, only got my hand-me-downs. Everyone said I was the “rose that bloomed in the projects.” But I dragged my parents to court. If the accusation of neglecting their daughter was proven true, the one caught lying would die instantly. Everyone thought I was crazy, but only I knew the truth: they never needed me. They were always just a family of three. This is a world where every citizen can participate in trials online and vote on the verdict. In the public courtroom, I stood in a moon-white dress, my lips painted bright red, while my parents and younger brother sat beside me in their plain clothes. The contrast couldn’t have been more stark. The live stream comments were relentless in their insults: “Look at the plaintiff, all dressed up! There’s no way she’s being abused!” “I feel so bad for her parents. They can’t even afford decent clothes, yet they put their daughter through college, and now she’s turning on them?” People who knew my parents saw them as obsessed with me. Their Facebook posts were filled with pictures of me, showing off their pride and joy. They scrimped and saved to send me to a prestigious school like Phillips Exeter, while Ryan only went to Jefferson High School. Everyone called me the rose that bloomed in the projects. After I got into Stanford, I even won a National Merit Scholarship in my first semester. Everything I had was because of my parents. But according to the Supreme Constitutional Law, everyone is born equal. If a child suffers severe unfair treatment, they have the right to sue their family. If my claim turned out to be false, I would die instantly, and my organs would be donated. But if the gender bias was proven true, Ryan would die, and my parents would suffer endless misfortune. When they found out I was suing them, their faces were filled with shock. My father, David, furrowed his brow. “Emily, come back to us. There must be a misunderstanding, let’s talk this through. Don’t do anything extreme.” My mother, Linda, broke down crying. “Is it because your college expenses aren’t enough? I’ll find a way to earn more. Please, don’t risk your life! You’re the most important child we have!” The live stream audience started to feel sorry for them. “Oh man, I can’t handle seeing a mom cry. Can we just wrap this up and take down this ungrateful brat?” “I always knew spoiling girls would lead to trouble. This proves it!” I turned my head away, coldly, disgusted by the fake mask they wore. But it wouldn’t last long. “Judge, please proceed,” I said. Seeing that I insisted on going through with the trial, both of my parents’ faces flashed with unease. Suddenly, the mechanical voice of the judge silenced the crowd. “This trial will proceed by extracting six memory segments from both the plaintiff and the defendants at different stages of their lives. The jury will observe these memories from a third-person perspective and vote to determine guilt.”

The trial officially began. The first memory was projected onto the screen. It was the scene when Ryan was just born. My mom, Linda, still looked weak, while my dad, David, anxiously spoke to visiting relatives: “We never planned on having a second child. We only wanted to focus on Emily.” “But Linda had an unexpected pregnancy. By the time we found out, it was too late to have an abortion, so we had to have him.” Ryan was a premature baby and was rushed to the NICU after birth. After they brought him home, my mom made a tough decision and handed Ryan over to Grandpa John and Grandma Susan to raise. They had to work to make ends meet, so they took me—who was already in preschool—with them, while Ryan stayed with my grandparents as an infant. Even though we moved around a lot, I was happy because I stayed close to my parents. Whenever I’d stretch out my arms and yell, “Mommy, pick me up!” Linda would smile and scoop me up, snapping picture after picture of me to show off to everyone. “My precious daughter is a gift from heaven!” she would say. The live stream comments started to blow up: “Wait, gender bias? I think it’s the other way around!” “Ryan got left behind as a baby! How sad is that?” “Exactly, what kid wouldn’t want to be with their parents? Ryan got the short end of the stick.” At that moment, my mom wiped her tears and raised her hand. The judge’s cold, mechanical voice came through: “The defendants request to submit evidence.” My mom, red-eyed, pulled out two photos. In one, I was smiling brightly in my parents’ arms. In the other, Ryan was alone, crying in the apartment where he lived with Grandpa John and Grandma Susan. “We always favored Emily,” she explained, “because we were afraid she’d feel hurt once Ryan came along. So we kept her close, while Ryan… well, even if he cried his heart out, we only visited him once a year.” “No matter what we had, Emily always got the best of it. Ryan only got the leftovers.” The audience became even more emotional: “Poor parents, trying their best. You can’t treat both kids exactly the same, right?” “I can’t believe she’s suing her parents after they sacrificed so much for her. Ungrateful!” As the comments raged on, the first vote came in, and without a doubt, the jury sided with my parents. Seeing they’d won the first round, my mom finally seemed to relax a little. “Emily, please, let’s stop this. We can still go back to the way things were,” she pleaded. “I’m willing to sign a settlement, I won’t hold it against you.” My mom looked at me with desperate eyes. Ryan chimed in urgently, “Sis, please stop this. Everyone knows you’re their favorite. If this trial keeps going, you’ll die! What’s going to happen to Mom and Dad then?” “Wow, I’ve never seen defendants plead like this! She could settle and walk away without facing any consequences!” But I stayed calm and cool, turning to the judge and saying, “Let’s continue.” Because the truth, the real truth, was yet to come.

The next memory was revealed. By the time I was ten, I had already started living at school during the week. That year, during the school’s Spring Play, I danced my heart out on stage. My parents had even taken time off work to watch me perform. When the show ended, I tripped on my long dress but still scrambled up, running toward them with a big, toothy grin, one of my front teeth missing. “Mommy, how did I do?” I asked. But my mom barely paid attention, distracted. “There were too many people on stage. Where were you standing again? I couldn’t tell.” The audience was stunned. “Wait, weren’t they just watching her and smiling? I thought they were really into it!” “Emily was the lead dancer in the front row! I’m nearly blind, and even I could tell it was her. What were her parents watching?” I noticed the brief flicker of discomfort on my parents’ faces, but they quickly recovered. The scene shifted to later that same day. I sat alone in the school cafeteria, eating a cold sandwich, watching as all the other kids were picked up by their parents. I quietly cried into my food. Meanwhile, my parents had taken Ryan to Six Flags to celebrate his seventh birthday. That same week, I scored a 99 on my exam. They barely acknowledged it, telling me to aim for 100. But when Ryan scored 60, they were overjoyed. “That’s my boy! Just a little more effort, and you’ll be doing great. Last time it was 40, and now you’ve jumped up 20 points!” David said proudly. Ryan grinned, puffing his chest. “It’s easy to improve by a few points, but jumping 20? That’s talent. I’ve got way more potential than Emily!” The live stream audience started to shift their tone. “Wow, what a ridiculous comparison. Anyone knows that going from 90 to 100 is much harder.” “And this dad? Praising his son by putting down his daughter? Seriously?” At this point, Ryan got flustered. “It was my birthday! I was just a little kid; of course, my parents wanted to make me happy!” Some people defended him, pointing out that since the parents weren’t around much, it made sense to spoil Ryan a bit on his birthday. Others had different thoughts: “But Emily’s a latchkey kid too!” “Ugh, seeing her cry in the corner breaks my heart.” When the jury voted, many agreed that gender bias existed, and this round went in my favor. The screen now showed a 1-1 tie, and I could see the tension return to my mom’s face. “Emily, your mom and I have always treated you and Ryan equally, but we’re only human. Sometimes it’s impossible to keep things perfectly balanced. Can you forgive us for those moments?” she said, her voice shaky. Her words sparked sympathy again from the viewers. “Yeah, I get it. My oldest always has to give in to the younger one, but I still try to be fair.” “Right, families with multiple kids have so many little conflicts—this doesn’t seem like abuse.” As the conversation quieted, the judge released the third memory segment.

I had already lost two rounds. According to the rule of needing four wins out of six, if I lost the next one, the trial could end in a tie or, worse, a loss for me. But the memory extractor was going in chronological order. We were getting close to the memories of my high school years. There was no way they could win these. My mom, Linda, was growing increasingly anxious, practically begging me now: “Emily, please, stop this! We can’t lose you.” But I just smiled and said, “Mom, didn’t you always say I was the one you loved the most? If that’s true, why are you so afraid of the truth? If you really treated me the same as Ryan, I won’t mind dying for it.” At that moment, the system judge’s cold, robotic voice rang out, asking me if I wanted to proceed with the trial. I nodded firmly, unable to wait any longer to rip away their masks. The parents I had depended on for so long had never truly cared about me. Those hidden scars, those painful truths buried for years, were finally about to be revealed. “Honestly, aside from the Six Flags birthday trip, all the memories show them favoring their daughter. Why is she still pushing this?” “Yeah, she seems pretty calm for someone who might die. Maybe there’s something deeper going on?” The fourth memory segment appeared on the big screen. I was sixteen at the time, having just finished my high school entrance exams. I had grown tall and graceful, my face still soft and innocent, like a newborn lamb. Because I had ranked first in the entire city, I made the local newspaper, and the media even came to interview my family. The reporter asked which school I wanted to attend. I smiled brightly. “I’ve worked so hard so I could get into the best high school, just to stay close to Mom and Dad.” From elementary school to middle school, I had been living on campus, away from home. I longed to spend my high school years living with my parents. Since they worked in the city, my only chance of staying with them was if I could get into Lincoln High School. But after receiving my scholarship and the spotlight faded, my parents enrolled me in Brighton Preparatory School—a private school far out of state. The school was so far away that I wouldn’t be able to come home even once a year. The smile on my face froze. My mom hugged me, crying with tears streaming down her face. “My darling, I don’t want to send you away either, but the teachers say you’re extraordinarily gifted. We can’t let ordinary education hold you back. You’ll get a much better education at Brighton.” Principal George Michaels, a seemingly kind and elderly man in his sixties, met us in his office. He eyed me with sharp scrutiny, saying he recognized my potential and promised to nurture it well. He also assured my parents that my tuition and living expenses would be fully covered. I don’t know what else he whispered to them in hushed voices. But in the end, my parents exchanged satisfied glances and left with smiles on their faces. “What the hell is this old man up to?” “Oh my god, someone stop him!” Suddenly, shocked comments poured into the live stream. Everyone saw what happened next—after my parents left, Principal Michaels closed the door to his office. Then, with a smile still on his face, he walked over to me, ignoring my cries, and reached under my skirt.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “294704”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #重生Reborn #现实主义Realistic #励志Inspiring #浪漫Romance #玄幻Fantsy #惊悚Thriller #魔幻Magic #校园School #擦边Steamy