Author: Momo Chan

After I died, my body was handled by my brother, James Murphy, a forensic pathologist. “The victim’s head is missing, and the body is severely decomposed, making it impossible to identify.” After completing his work, James called Isabella Murphy, my adopted sister, to celebrate her promotion at the Prestigious Company. At the same time, he sent me a message: [Megan Murphy, today is an important day for Isabella. You better be home on time!] [If you’re late, don’t bother setting foot in the Murphy house ever again!] But, James, do you know? The body you’re handling… it’s me. The sister you loved so much, the one who Isabella killed… Two weeks after my death, some locals found my dismembered body at Forest Edge while foraging. They called the police, and because my remains were found in Manchester, it was my brother, James Murphy, who was responsible for the post-mortem and identification. My soul hadn’t fully dissipated yet, and I watched as James, wearing a mask, inspected the body. Several police officers nearby grimaced. “This is horrific. Who could have done something so brutal to a girl?” “Exactly! Whoever did this deserves to be torn apart!” James frowned slightly but said nothing, ordering the remains to be taken back to the forensic lab. “The victim is female, approximately 23 years old. Initial estimates place the time of death around 16 days ago.” “There are multiple stab wounds on the chest, abdomen, and back, with the fatal wound located in the heart.” “From the pattern of injuries, she was stabbed four times in the chest, three times in the back, and around six times in the heart. After she died, the killer dismembered her body.” “The victim’s organs are missing—her kidneys, liver, and stomach were removed. The head is also missing, making facial recognition impossible.” “Additionally, the body is incomplete, missing the pelvis, left leg, and right hand. The remains are heavily decomposed. We’ll need to conduct a DNA test for further identification.” James handed the autopsy report to the police and removed his mask. “We still need to find the victim’s head and the missing body parts. The killer must have held a deep grudge to treat the victim with such cruelty.” “The head and hands may hold crucial evidence to identify the murderer.” “Got it!” Once the police left, James was about to sit down when his phone rang. I floated over to see that it was Isabella calling. “Brother, are you getting off work soon? Mum wants you home; otherwise, we won’t wait to cut the cake!” Isabella’s sweet, playful voice came through the line, and James smiled, clearly enjoying it. He quickened his pace as he packed up his things. “You little brat, why not wait for me? Tell Mum I’ll be home in twenty minutes!” “Today’s your big day—you think I’d miss celebrating your promotion?” After hanging up, he frowned, scrolled through his phone, and found my message thread. [Megan Murphy, today is Isabella’s most important day. You better be on time!] [Before you get home, pick up a gift and apologize to Isabella for spreading lies!] [Otherwise, don’t bother coming back to the Murphy house!] He sent the message, then glanced at the remains on the autopsy table. My heart raced—had he realized it was me? But a moment later, he just irritably switched off his phone, packed his things, and left the office. I felt a pang in my chest, but no tears fell. James, did you know? You were only inches away from me. If you had looked just a little closer at my body, you’d have seen the birthmark on my wrist—the one you always said would help you find me no matter what. You promised no one could ever take me away, but you broke that promise. And worse, you didn’t know that the sister you cherish, Isabella, is the one who killed me.

When I was six, I was abducted by traffickers. Mum was so devastated that she fell into a deep depression. To ease her pain, Dad went to an orphanage and adopted Isabella. When I was found by the police at fifteen, I thought my parents had been waiting for me. But when I returned home, I found the entire family orbiting around Isabella. The brother who used to spoil me, the father who always made sure I ate, and the mother who used to sing me lullabies—when they saw me, the first thing they said was: “Even though you’ve come back, Isabella will feel hurt. She’ll think we love her less now that you’re here.” Isabella moved into my old room, and Dad said: “Megan, you’ve always been sensible. Since you’re back now, let Isabella have her way—she’s younger than you!” “Megan, Isabella is an orphan. We’re all she has. You’re her sister now, and you have to love her too, okay?” Isabella blew out the candles on my birthday cake, and Mum said: “Megan, Isabella has never had a birthday before. Let her blow out your candles and eat the cake. She deserves it more.” Isabella took my beloved British Folklore Jigsaw Puzzle, and James said: “If she likes it, let her have it. I’ve given you plenty of things, and Isabella’s never seen or played with any of them. I’ll buy you something new later.” … Memories flooded my mind, and even though I was now just a soul, my heart still ached. I had thought that once I came home, my parents and brother would love me even more. But I was wrong. Isabella had replaced me, stealing all the love from my family. But aren’t I their real daughter? As my soul followed James home, I watched Isabella excitedly throw herself into his arms, and he smiled, hugging her back. “You’ve made us so proud. Securing a promotion at a Prestigious Company was no small feat.” Mum beamed with pride, and Dad handed Isabella a knife to cut the cake. “James is home too! Let’s cut the cake together—it’s Isabella’s favorite, Strawberry Sponge Cake!” Isabella grinned as she cut the cake, giving slices to Mum, Dad, and James. They looked like a perfect, happy family. Halfway through the meal, they finally remembered there was someone missing. “James, didn’t you message Megan to come celebrate with us? Why isn’t she here yet?” Mum asked. I looked up, my heart swelling with hope. Maybe Mum still cared about me after all. James’s face darkened immediately. “Don’t worry about her! She had the nerve to spread rumors that Isabella was using drugs. God knows who filled her head with that nonsense!” “Forget about her. Ever since she came back, she’s been acting crazy. If she doesn’t want to come, we can still have a happy birthday for Isabella without her!” Dad’s face turned grim as well, and he reassured Mum. Mum didn’t think much of it and continued eating. I curled up in the corner, bitterly smiling to myself. Of course, as long as Isabella is around, they wouldn’t even think about me. They didn’t notice the flash of guilt on Isabella’s face, though. She had every reason to be guilty, because I wasn’t lying. She really was using drugs. Isabella had been playing the role of the sweet, innocent daughter at home, but in reality, she was a wild delinquent. Since I came back, I could see the hatred in her eyes. She would intentionally provoke me and then cry to make our parents and James take her side. I was driven to the brink of insanity, but Dad just called me crazy. I had developed a habit of staying up late, and about a month ago, I noticed that Isabella would often sneak out when our parents weren’t paying attention. She’d return home reeking of smoke and alcohol, looking completely drained the next morning. But she’d tell Mum and James it was all from working hard, and they’d fall for it, feeling sorry for her to the point of tears. Half a month ago, I went into her room to retrieve a notebook she’d borrowed under the pretense of “work research,” and that’s when I found it—drug paraphernalia. And worse, I uncovered links between her so-called prestigious company and an illegal organ trafficking ring connected to Southeast Asia. I was terrified. I ran to tell Mum and Dad, but they wouldn’t believe me. They thought I was jealous of Isabella’s success. “What are you trying to do, Megan? Spread lies that your sister’s into drugs?” “Megan Murphy, Isabella is an orphan! We’re all she has. Are you so jealous you want to drive her out and make her suffer again?” “Get out! Don’t come back until you know what you’ve done wrong!” They didn’t believe me. Even James turned his back on me. I was devastated, and I stormed out of the house. But as soon as I stepped out, I was grabbed by several large men, who dragged me into an alley where no one would see. I never imagined how much pain a knife could cause when it plunged into your body. I never thought Isabella would actually want me dead, but here I was, surrounded by her company’s thugs. Through blurry eyes, I saw her standing there, smiling down at me—a smile as sinister as a poisonous flower. “Megan, I bet you’re wondering why I’ve always been against you.” “Who wouldn’t want to stay in a rich family, with fancy clothes and loads of money to spend? Why should I leave just because you came back?” “I only wish you’d never been found by the police in the first place!” As I took my final breaths, they stuffed my body into a car trunk, cleaned up the blood, and drove to the countryside. Isabella, blood splattered on her face, finished me off with terrifying precision. Her smile was grotesque, twisted in a way that sent shivers down my spine, even as I lay dying. After disposing of my body, she cleaned herself up and went home, acting as if nothing had happened. And all that time, neither Mum, Dad, nor James even thought to wonder where I was.

After celebrating Isabella’s promotion, James returned to his own place. He had a house near the Manchester Police Department, making it easier to respond to calls quickly. He poured himself a glass of water and sat on the sofa. After a moment, he pulled out his phone, but his hand hesitated. He hadn’t moved the screen for a while. I floated over and saw it was my message thread. I hadn’t responded to any of his texts, not that he’d been replying to me for the past few months. The last few texts were all one-sided, from me to him. James clicked his tongue, scrolling through our messages: [Hey, did you remember to take your stomach medicine? I got more for you—don’t forget to bring it!] [James, I’ve been stuck on a work problem. Could I ask you for advice?] [Today’s my birthday, will you be coming home?] My birthday had been the day Isabella killed me. It took James a moment to realize this as he opened his calendar and saw the red heart marking the date: Megan’s 23rd Birthday. He froze for a moment, then quickly exited the calendar app and called Mum. “Mum, did Megan call the house about half a month ago?” Mum hesitated. “No, she didn’t. Wasn’t that the day she had a fight with Isabella? Why?” James paused, then said, “No reason.” After hanging up, he grew visibly frustrated. He tried calling me, but no one answered. More irritated now, he opened our chat and started sending voice messages: [Megan, have you grown up now? Who taught you to run off and not take responsibility for your actions?] [You’ve got two hours to call me back, or you can forget about calling me brother ever again!] I looked at him in confusion. Hadn’t he just told me I wasn’t allowed home unless I apologized to Isabella? I always loved James, but I was also terrified of him. When I didn’t finish my schoolwork, he’d scold me. When I disobeyed, he’d rush home to discipline me. Over time, a wall had grown between us. Isabella, on the other hand, could joke around with him, bother him whenever she wanted, and he would always be patient and kind with her. His smile never faded when she was around. I felt dizzy, my soul growing lighter, as if I were losing my grip on existence. I was fading, but somehow, I couldn’t disappear completely. That’s when James finally lost his composure. He grabbed his coat and stormed out, heading straight to the police department. I followed him as he went back to the forensic lab, put on gloves, and began working again. But just as he was examining my remains for further evidence, he suddenly froze. His fingers brushed over the birthmark on my wrist—a small heart-shaped mark, something unique. When we were kids, he used to poke that mark and say, “Megan’s a gift from the heavens. They gave her a heart-shaped mark so I’ll always find her, no matter what.” Now, James stared at the birthmark for what felt like an eternity. I thought I must be imagining things. Why would he tremble if he hated me so much? I shook my head, ready to close my eyes and conserve my strength when he pulled out his phone and made a call. “Mum, are you sure Megan didn’t call home after she left?” For the first time in ages, he called me by my nickname instead of my full name. “Well, now that you mention it…” Mum’s voice was hesitant. “She used to call every day. It’s strange that she didn’t this time…” “Mum, do you think Megan didn’t come home because of me? If so, I—” “Don’t be ridiculous!” Dad interrupted. “I haven’t even confronted Megan for spreading those lies about you, Isabella!” “James, stop worrying. She’ll come crawling back. Where else would she go?” Yes, Dad. Where else would I go? You’re all I have, and the Murphy family is all I’ve ever known. But now, you only care about Isabella, the one who murdered me. James hung up the phone, bracing himself against the autopsy table. He shook his head. “It can’t be…” “There are plenty of people with birthmarks. It’s not her…” As he was about to continue, his phone rang again. “James, we found some fabric remnants on the hillside.” “We traced the fabric to a brand store. The staff confirmed it’s an old classic model, with fewer than thirty owners.” “Seventeen of those are men. The remaining thirteen women have no missing persons reports.” “James, I’ve sent you a list.” James opened the message and enlarged the photo. The next second, his face turned pale with disbelief. The last name on the list was Megan Murphy.

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When our daughter died in the earthquake, my wife was off visiting her high school sweetheart. I asked her to attend Chloe’s funeral, but she looked at me with disgust, her voice dripping with disdain. “Can you stop being ridiculous? David and his daughter are injured and need someone to care for them.” She didn’t seem to realize that David and Emily only had minor injuries, while my daughter was gone forever. Later, after we divorced, she finally understood—without me, she was nothing. “Dad, I’m so cold.” Chloe trembled in my arms, her whole body shaking. The fierce winter wind howled through the broken walls. I reached out as best I could, trying to share whatever warmth I had left with her. “Don’t worry, Chloe. Daddy’s here.” “Mom’s outside. She’ll be here soon to save us.” When the earthquake hit, Chloe and I were home. The sudden collapse trapped us under the rubble, with my legs pinned beneath a slab of concrete, leaving me immobile. Luckily, my wife, Sarah, was in Bristol, safe from the disaster. I was certain she’d come back to rescue us soon. “Dad, my leg hurts.” I looked down and saw a dark stain of blood spreading beneath her. I hadn’t noticed it earlier, but Chloe’s injuries were far worse than mine. My heart clenched painfully, and tears began to fall. “Chloe, hold Daddy’s hand. Just hang on a little longer, okay?” Even though she was in pain, my sweet girl nodded in agreement. She’d always been so well-behaved, even now. We waited in the freezing rubble for what felt like hours, until I was nearly at the point of collapse. Then, at last, I heard footsteps above us. It was Sarah. She had finally come with help. Hope surged in my chest. I shouted with all my remaining strength. “Sarah, we’re here!” Chloe heard her too, her tiny voice calling out in excitement. “Mom! Mom, Chloe’s here!” “Mom, please come save us!” I reached out, weakly tapping a pipe beside me, trying to make as much noise as possible. My heart pounded with relief—Chloe was going to be saved. But to my horror, the footsteps paused only briefly above us, then moved away, fading into the distance. I froze. I couldn’t believe that Sarah had mistaken our house, or that she hadn’t heard our desperate cries. No, there was only one explanation. She was going to the house behind ours—to save David, her high school sweetheart. It was so cold that my tears froze almost instantly on my cheeks. I held Chloe tightly, doing my best to keep my voice steady. “Chloe, hang in there just a little longer. Mom… Mom will come back for us.” In the darkness, Chloe’s quiet sobs broke the silence. “Dad, you’re lying, aren’t you?” “Mom’s not coming to save us. She’s saving David instead.” No child should ever have to bear such a truth. I pulled her closer, holding her shivering body against mine. “Dad, did I do something wrong?” “Why doesn’t Mom ever smile at me? Does she not like me?” “But why… why doesn’t she love me?” As she spoke, I felt her little body grow colder and colder. In that moment, the pain in my legs no longer mattered. All I cared about was keeping my daughter alive. Unable to move my arms, I began banging my head against the pipe, over and over. Blood streamed down my face, but the only sound in the icy night was the dull thudding of my futile efforts. Sarah never came back. Chloe was gone. The vibrant little girl who once danced around and called me “Daddy” had died, right there, when her mother abandoned us. When I felt her body go completely cold, my world went dark. All my hope, all my effort, had been in vain. Sarah had chosen David Campbell over our daughter, and Chloe had paid the price. I slumped over and blacked out.

When I woke again, the sterile scent of disinfectant filled my nose. The memories came rushing back, and the crushing weight of grief settled in my chest. “Chloe!” I screamed her name. Nurses rushed in, asking me how I felt, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t feel any pain in my broken leg, which was now suspended in a cast. “Where’s my Chloe? Where is she?” The nurses went silent. The head nurse looked at me with sympathy, her face heavy with sorrow. “Mr. Blake, I’m so sorry for your loss.” In that moment, it felt like someone had ripped my heart from my chest. The pain was so overwhelming that I couldn’t breathe. Everything around me fell silent. All I could hear was Chloe’s voice. She was calling, “Daddy, help me.” But I hadn’t been able to save her. And the one person who could have—her mother—had chosen to abandon us. It took a long time for me to calm down. Finally, I asked to see Chloe one last time. The nurses resisted at first, but eventually they relented and helped me into a wheelchair. On the way, I heard a voice coming from the room next door. Sarah’s voice. The anger inside me flared into a raging storm. I remembered how she could have saved Chloe, but instead, she saved David. I pushed open the door, ignoring the nurses trying to stop me. The sight before me was like a knife to the heart. Sarah was holding a little girl—David’s daughter, Emily. She was comforting her, smiling at David with a tenderness I hadn’t seen in years. They looked like a perfect family. When Sarah saw me, the warmth in her eyes instantly disappeared. Her voice was sharp and annoyed. “Why are you barging in like this? Can’t you see that David and Emily are still recovering?” I glanced at them. They had nothing but a few scrapes. Yet Sarah was treating them as if they were the most precious people in the world. Meanwhile, her own husband was sitting in a wheelchair with a broken leg, and her daughter—our daughter—was dead. And she didn’t spare a word of concern. I rolled my wheelchair closer. “Sarah, your daughter is dead.” “Do you know why she died?” “It’s because, when you passed by our house, you didn’t hesitate. You didn’t care. You chose to save David instead.” Sarah’s eyes flickered. She opened her mouth as if to say something but then shook her head. “John, can you stop with this jealousy nonsense?” “You’re just trying to make me feel guilty, to blame David for what happened.” I stared at her, feeling like I was looking at a stranger. I couldn’t believe that this woman—the woman I had loved for seven years—could say something so heartless. “Do you really think I would make up Chloe’s death just to spite you?” Sarah narrowed her eyes, her expression mocking. “Wouldn’t you?” “All you ever do is use Chloe to guilt-trip me or to attack David and Emily. What else do you do?” Two years ago, David and his daughter had arrived in the city with nothing. They showed up at our house in the middle of the night. I pitied them and offered them a villa we weren’t using. I even found David an easy job. But in Sarah’s eyes, I had somehow become the villain, targeting them. I laughed bitterly. “Sarah, do you even believe the things you’re saying?” Her face darkened. “At least I don’t resort to underhanded tricks like you.” “Underhanded? Me?” I asked, incredulous. “You’re the one with something to hide, not me.” Disappointment settled deep in my chest. In that moment, I realized I had nothing left to expect from her. “Chloe’s biggest regret in life,” I said quietly, “was having a mother like you.” Without waiting for her response, I turned and left the room.

After Chloe was cremated, I began to prepare her funeral. The little girl who had embodied every bit of joy and warmth in my life was now reduced to a cold urn of ashes, resting in my hands. After much thought, I decided that Sarah should still be invited to the funeral. Despite everything, she was Chloe’s mother. She deserved to be there. I called her again and again, but my calls either went straight to voicemail or rang endlessly without being answered. With each unanswered call, the silence around me felt heavier. In the distance, I could hear laughter coming from the room next door. I never expected that, even after our daughter’s death, my wife wouldn’t want to attend her funeral. Suddenly, a soft ping alerted me to a message on my phone. I checked it and saw a notification for a bank deduction of fifteen thousand pounds. Fifteen thousand wasn’t a huge sum for me, but the recipient caught my attention—St. George’s Hospital. I hadn’t made any payments for my own care yet, so there was only one possibility. Sarah had used my card to pay for David and Emily’s hospital fees! While Chloe lay in a cold, lifeless urn, David and his daughter were enjoying the luxury of a private hospital suite, all paid for with my money. Rage bubbled up inside me. Without a second thought, I stormed into the room next door. David didn’t even bother to look up, assuming it was Sarah. “You’re back so soon, Sarah?” he said casually. “Emily was just saying how much she missed you.” The irony hit me like a slap in the face. Sarah, who couldn’t even be bothered to check on our daughter, rushed to David’s side the moment Emily expressed the slightest longing for her. There was no point in pretending anymore. I said coldly, “David, you’ve racked up fifteen thousand pounds in hospital bills. How would you like to pay? Cash or transfer?” David’s head jerked up in shock, his large eyes wide with fear. “John… What are you doing here?” I gave him a bitter smile, pulling out my phone to show him the bank notification. “Sarah doesn’t have any money of her own. Everything she’s spent on you—this hospital stay, the fancy clothes, the villa rent—has all come out of my pocket.” “This time, it’s fifteen thousand. Add to that everything else I’ve provided for you, and the rent on the villa. You owe me one hundred and twenty-five thousand pounds.” David’s face turned pale. “That’s impossible… You must have made a mistake. How could it add up to that much?” I was about to answer when Sarah stormed into the room, cutting me off. “John, what are you doing? Are you seriously harassing David and Emily while I’m not here?” “They’re still recovering, and you have the audacity to ask them for money?” “Is there anything in your world besides money?” Sarah shoved me aside, placing herself protectively between me and David.

Before I could respond, David jumped in, trying to sound pitiful. “Sarah, I’ve only just come to this city. I don’t know anyone here. You were the only person I could turn to.” “I never thought your husband would be upset over something like that.” “And now, when we’re still not fully healed, he’s trying to throw us out of the hospital.” I stared at him in disbelief, stunned by how easily he twisted the truth. I shifted my gaze to Sarah, who stood defiantly at his side. “David, you know very well why you came here,” I said icily. “And you know I haven’t thrown you out or done anything to force you.” “You’ve eaten my food, lived in my house, and now you’re turning the tables on me?” “Does that not weigh on your conscience?” David’s face grew even paler. He pressed a hand to his chest and started coughing violently, as if overcome by the stress. Seeing him struggle, Sarah snapped. Without warning, she slapped me across the face. The force of the blow left me stunned. I raised a hand to my stinging cheek, staring at her in disbelief. Sarah sneered at me, her lips curling in contempt. “That slap was for David.” I laughed, but the taste of salt reminded me that I wasn’t amused—I was heartbroken. “Sarah, remember this.” “From this moment on, I will act as though Chloe never had a mother like you.” I didn’t wait for her response. I turned my wheelchair around and left the room. Whatever happened from here, I was done. I would never allow them to hurt me again. Chloe’s funeral was set for the next day. The sky was heavy with thick clouds, blocking out the sun. Before long, a mixture of rain and snow began to fall. Sarah knew what day it was—she knew it was our daughter’s funeral—but she didn’t show up. While I sat alone in the cold, holding Chloe’s tiny urn, I saw something that made my blood boil. David had posted a photo on his social media—a picture of him, Sarah, and Emily, smiling happily together. They looked like the perfect family. I was drenched, pushing my wheelchair through the rain, clutching Chloe’s ashes, when suddenly, a figure appeared beside me. An umbrella shielded me from the rain, and I looked up to see Samantha Quinn. We’d been childhood friends, but ever since I married Sarah, we had drifted apart. I never expected her to show up at my daughter’s funeral. “I know you’re in pain,” she said gently, “but now isn’t the time to fall apart.” Her bright, clear eyes seemed to see straight into my heart, as if she knew everything I was feeling. She was right. It wasn’t time to break down. Not yet. There was something I needed to do. After the funeral, I sent Sarah a message. It was simple—just five words: Let’s get a divorce.

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When I died, he was holding another woman in his arms. The plan succeeded. I will become the pain he can never forget. “Miss Lewis, here’s your medication. Please take it.” I accepted the white bottle and thanked the pharmacist. With sleeping pills, I could finally get some rest. The plan was ready to begin. I sat in the taxi, staring at the message Chris Jude had just sent me. “I’m attending a gala tonight. Won’t be home.” I knew exactly what kind of gala this was—Wendy Summers’ welcome-back party. Wendy Summers was quite something. She had been with Chris for just one year, yet had him completely wrapped around her finger. I’d stayed by Chris’s side from the age of twenty-one to twenty-seven—six whole years. And still, I couldn’t compete with a single tear from Wendy. I had lived this life once before. In the end, Chris married Wendy, and I died on their wedding day. Mentally broken, I jumped off a building. I got nothing. How could I just accept that? So, I came back—this time to when Chris was nineteen. In the original timeline, I would have met Chris when he was twenty-one. He had just started his business, and I became his right-hand assistant. My family preferred boys, while his was shattered. Two wounded souls, licking each other’s wounds. For six long years, we even discussed marriage. But then, Wendy came back. Not only did she return, but she openly declared her lingering feelings for Chris at the gala. They rekindled their old flame, and my six years of youth became the collateral. Nineteen-year-old Chris was still the rich kid of the Jude family, with the world at his feet, dating the prettiest girl—Wendy Summers. At twenty, his family lost everything. Wendy left the country, and his life took a nosedive. I knew everything, so I entered his world early. I didn’t interfere with his relationship with Wendy; this plan needed an executioner, and this year—the one Chris had cherished most—was it. I watched Chris date Wendy. Watched them hold each other. Watched them kiss. I saw, with painful clarity, all the sweet memories Wendy once told me about. For an entire year, my heart soaked in their syrupy romance until it was drenched and rotting. I waited quietly, biding my time. When Wendy left the country, I entered Chris’s world, armed with genuine love as he fell into despair. How foolish twenty-year-old Chris was—childish and stubborn. Over and over, he rejected me, waiting for Wendy. How does that saying go? “Love is long-lasting when it comes from companionship.” Eventually, Chris accepted me. I stayed by his side during his darkest year. After that, things unfolded as I remembered: He rose from a scrappy entrepreneur to a business tycoon. From rejecting me to almost proposing. And then—this gala. “Miss, we’ve arrived.” The sound of the horn broke my thoughts. I picked up my phone, the screen still displaying my chat with Chris. The last message was from 11:35 AM. “Do you want me to pick you up? Don’t drink too much, I’m worried about you.” Chris hadn’t replied. I stepped out of the car, doing something I had no memory of ever doing. The plan started here. Inside the bar, lights flickered. I spotted Chris immediately, seated with his back to me. He was dressed in a suit, standing out amidst the quirky outfits surrounding him. Wendy Summers was right next to him in a black dress. She didn’t fit in with the crowd either, but at least she matched Chris. The people sitting around them were all familiar—the same crowd Chris used to hang out with back in his rich-kid days. I waited a long time, thinking I wouldn’t see anything. Then, suddenly, laughter erupted from across the room. They were egging them on, loudly. Wendy stood up and kissed Chris on the lips. My hand shook as I raised my phone, zooming in and capturing the moment. I couldn’t see Chris’s expression, but Wendy’s smile was unmistakable. My hand trembled, my heart clenched painfully. So, even in the days I knew nothing about, they had shared an unspeakable connection. Chris seemed to sense something and turned his head. I quickly pulled my hat down and left. He didn’t see me. Back at our place, the emptiness was suffocating. An empty home never felt good. I showered and sat on the couch, counting the minutes on the clock. 1:28 AM. The sound of keys turning in the door. I opened my eyes, still groggy, and rushed into Chris’s arms. He caught me, patting my head. His deep voice sounded in my ear. “Why aren’t you wearing shoes? You’ll catch a cold.” I cupped his face, gently stroking the spot where Wendy’s lips had been, my voice muffled. “Where have you been? You were gone so long, and you didn’t reply to my messages.” He paused but didn’t answer. He simply carried me to the couch and put socks on my feet. I kicked him lightly in protest. “Why won’t you say anything?” He ruffled my hair, as if resigned. “A very important client. I didn’t drink. My phone was off, so I didn’t see your messages.” I looked into his eyes, and I was all I could see there. Chris, you’re lying. I didn’t press him further and, as always, started playfully teasing him again.

The next morning, Chris left for work early. Once he was gone, I crawled out of bed and headed to the study. Among piles of documents and classic novels sat my diary. I pulled it out, flipping through each page, where my thoughts lay bare—from the moment I met Chris until now. During the years Wendy Summers was gone, I received a level of affection I never had in my previous life. Maybe it was because I stood by him during his lowest moments that Chris treated me differently. Even though I knew Wendy still lived in his heart, I sometimes wavered, wondering: Maybe this time will be different? But then I would remember those six years. I remembered how, despite all that time together, Wendy had returned, taken the place meant for me, worn the wedding dress I had picked, and kissed Chris on the day of my death. The thought drove me mad with hatred. Chris had to suffer, just like me—day and night, tormented by despair. Tears fell onto my diary as I traced the photo I had taken that day. Each stroke of my hand carved deeper wounds into my heart. I had thought the pain would be gone by now. “I went to pick up Chris. I saw a girl kiss him. She was happy, but I was devastated.” On a fresh page, I jotted down these few lines. Excitement and restraint warred within me—strange, yet oddly enjoyable. I closed the diary and returned it to its spot. Then I put on light makeup and slipped into a white dress. The reflection in the mirror was serene, gentle—so different from Wendy’s boldness. I smiled at the girl in the mirror, who smiled back at me, her dimples as sweet as honey. Chris had complimented me long ago, saying I looked beautiful when I smiled. But I didn’t like smiling anymore, not after coming back to relive this life. Now, I preferred crying. Falling apart in tears reminded me I was still alive, with real emotions, made of flesh and blood. Crying reminded me of Chris’s coldness and Wendy’s provocation.

After leaving home, I went to Chris’s office. The employees all knew who I was, but they avoided eye contact, which gave me a clue. And I was right. Through the glass window of his office, I saw Chris and Wendy sitting at the same table, sharing a meal. Wendy picked up a piece of carrot, about to feed it to Chris. He frowned but still ate it. Chris hated carrots. My hands clenched and unclenched at my sides. I couldn’t control myself—I pushed open the door and slapped Wendy across the face. “He has a girlfriend! Didn’t you know? How can you be so shameless? Get out!” Wendy’s eyes widened in disbelief, and then tears started falling. Sobbing, she explained, “I… I didn’t know. I don’t understand why you’re hitting me. We’re just friends. You misunderstood, right, Chris?” I turned to look at Chris. He thought for a long time before finally speaking. “Anna, stop making a scene. Wendy’s just an old friend. You hit her without hearing the full story. Apologize to her.” My hand holding the lunchbox began to tremble. Chris, you’re lying again. The tension in the room hung thick as Wendy continued to sob, shattering Chris’s patience. “Anna Lewis, if you hit someone, you need to apologize! Say sorry to Wendy!” Chris frowned, tapping the table impatiently. I had rarely seen him this upset. Suddenly, I was reminded of Chris at twenty—how I had gone out of my way to please him, and how stubborn he’d been, telling me over and over, “Anna, I’ll never love you. You should give up.” It was exactly the same now—all because of Wendy. Memories rushed up, filling my eyes with tears that I tried to hold back. With my throat tight, I forced the words out. “I’m sorry.” Chris’s expression softened, and he smiled. “Anna, come sit and eat with us.” Wendy chimed in, her voice bright and proud. “Yeah, Anna, join us! I got this food especially for Chris from a famous restaurant!” She looked at me, unable to hide the challenge in her eyes. I stayed calm, not causing a scene again. Chris seemed delighted. I placed the lunchbox on the table, and Chris suddenly froze, as if remembering something. I knew what was on his mind. Every day, I brought him lunch—it was our routine. But today, he had eaten Wendy’s meal. Suppressing the tremor in my voice, I smiled and said, “I brought you lunch, but since you’ve already eaten, I’ll head home.” Chris opened his mouth but only managed a single word. “Okay.” I turned and left, determined. Out of Chris’s sight, the tears finally rolled down my cheeks. The office staff exchanged uneasy glances as I forced myself to smile and leave. Still, I could hear their whispers. “What’s going on? How can the CEO’s girlfriend lose to the other woman?” “Shh, don’t talk nonsense. I went to school with the CEO. That woman in his office is his ex. They used to be inseparable—a love story for the ages.” “Really? So, who will he end up with?” “No idea, but the girlfriend sure is pitiful.” Yeah, pitiful. I laughed bitterly to myself and left Chris’s office.

The sunlight was blinding, so I shielded my eyes with my hand. “Hey, would you like to check this out?” Lowering my hand, I saw a mascot—a large, clumsy teddy bear—approaching me. It looked a little ridiculous. I took the flyer from him. It was for a nearby café. “Sure, I’ll check it out. Thanks.” My mind drifted back to the days I spent handing out flyers with Chris. The streets back then were scorching—like a furnace. I had suffered through those days with him. I smiled at the mascot and was about to leave when his cheerful voice called out again. “Hey, you’ve got a beautiful smile.” I froze, that same sentence ringing in my ears. Anna, you look so beautiful when you smile. “Really?” I asked without thinking. The rough fabric of the mascot costume brushed my cheek as the teddy bear patted me gently. “If you don’t cry, it’s even better.” “Don’t cry, okay?” I touched my face, feeling the wetness on my fingers. Was I crying again? I shouldn’t be. After a moment, I let a smile break across my face. I hugged the mascot, and he didn’t pull away. “Thank you.” I must be going crazy. I sat there, watching as he handed out flyers, chatting up passersby. He told me I should head home. I shook my head and refused. He didn’t mind. Instead, he shuffled around in his clumsy mascot suit, blocking the sun for me. So this is what it feels like to have someone care for you. As the sun set, he removed the suit and sat next to me. A bottle of water sat beside him—something he had run out to buy for me. The weather had been too hot, and his hair stuck damply to his forehead. I handed him a tissue. He took it, wiping the sweat from his face before pushing his hair back. So bright, so good-looking. So different from Chris’s steady appearance. I stared at him absentmindedly until he waved his hand in front of my face, laughing. “Hey, did I stun you with how good I look?” His playful antics made me laugh. I pushed his hand away and stood up. “Stop being so full of yourself.” “I’m heading home. You should go home early too.” The ride-share honked impatiently. I waved goodbye and got in the car. Through the window, I watched as he stood there, holding the mascot suit in his arms, smiling and waving back at me, the sunset behind him. I never told him that his smile was just as beautiful. Years ago, I was the one wearing the mascot suit, shielding Chris from the heat. The inside had been suffocating, like an oven. Chris’s impatient tone and spoiled attitude still lingered vividly in my memory. What was I thinking back then? I was thinking that I wished someone would shield me from the sun. Why am I thinking about Chris again? I touched my eyes once more—dry this time. No more tears. Back home, the emptiness remained. Somehow, Wendy Summers had added me on WeChat. I accepted, but she didn’t message me. I knew what she was planning. Sure enough, she posted a playful caption and a photo on her feed. “Dinner with my favorite person! Even the lemonade tastes sweet!” The picture showed two glasses of lemonade and a lavish meal. And, of course, a man’s hand—it could only be Chris. Smart as ever, he had even taken off the watch I gave him. Once again, I opened my diary and wrote. “Today, Chris forgot I would bring him lunch. He ate with another girl. That girl even fed him the carrots he doesn’t like. I was furious and slapped her. Chris sided with her and made me apologize. I’m so sad.” After that day, Chris rarely came home. I couldn’t sleep, and even the sleeping pills stopped working. Sometimes, I would fall asleep, only to wake up soon after in the darkness of my dreams. My hair began to fall out in clumps, and my weight dropped steadily. Even though I had planned everything, including my final departure, I still couldn’t find peace. Sometimes, looking at my pale reflection in the mirror, I’d think back to the days before Chris, when I was just as radiant and lively as Wendy. I couldn’t stop myself from breaking down into sobs. I had to speed up the plan—I didn’t know how much longer I could endure.

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Laura, once seemingly benign, revealed her true nature in the most tragic way. The day she accidentally dropped my three-month-old son from the building marked the beginning of my descent into despair. Jason, ever placid, dismissed it as a mere accident. Pregnant with our second child, I hesitated when Laura offered to accompany me for my prenatal check-ups. Her seemingly kind gesture masked a deep-seated disdain, a warning I failed to heed. The day of the traffic accident was a cruel twist of fate. I vividly remember the world spinning as I felt my life—and my unborn child’s—slip away. In those final moments, I floated above the chaos and heard Laura’s cruel taunt: “Bitch, you’re good for nothing by being alive!” The reality that followed was devastating. Jason, using the inheritance meant for my family, remarried, leaving me with the gut-wrenching realization that my son’s death had been a deliberate act of murder orchestrated by Laura. As my spirit grappled with this truth, I was abruptly pulled back through a disorienting whirlpool of time. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself at the very moment Laura had offered to accompany me for my prenatal check-up. —— “Selina, are you ready to go? Jefferson scheduled an early appointment with the best gynecologist. We can’t be late!” Laura’s voice crackled with anxious urgency as she paced back and forth at the door, her eyes darting with a barely concealed impatience. I looked down at my slightly bulging belly, a tangible reminder of the life growing inside me. Suddenly, an overwhelming wave of emotion crashed over me, and I burst into tears. “My baby is still there. Could it be a dream?” I choked on my sobs, my mind reeling with the nightmare of my daughter’s fall from the building, her tiny body reduced to a horrifying mess. Laura’s sudden offer to take me to a private hospital where Jefferson worked, and her insistence on making an appointment with the best gynecologist, struck me as eerily convenient. Her enthusiasm seemed almost too polished, too rehearsed. A part of me felt uneasy, sensing an undercurrent of deception beneath her veneer of concern. The memory of Laura’s cruel taunt, “Bitch, you’re good for nothing by being alive!” echoed in my mind, a chilling reminder of the treachery I had uncovered. The stillbirth of my first child had cast a shadow over my heart, leaving me perpetually uneasy. The wound never fully healed, a constant ache beneath the surface. As my second pregnancy progressed, a faint glimmer of hope began to emerge. Jason had explained that Laura, devastated by the tragic accident, had suffered a severe emotional and physical breakdown when she lost consciousness while holding our son. Her injuries and the weight of her grief had kept her bedridden for a long, arduous recovery. Despite her own suffering, Laura’s apparent joy at the news of my second pregnancy seemed boundless. Her enthusiasm was almost unsettling in its intensity. She threw herself into finding the best possible care for me, an effort that grew more fervent with each passing day. Her attempts to secure a top-notch gynecologist were relentless. She seemed almost obsessed with ensuring that every detail of my prenatal care was perfect. When she finally managed to secure an appointment with the best gynecologist in town, her elation was palpable. Jason’s words echoed with a bitter irony that cut through my grief. “Laura’s trying to make up for her previous mistakes,” he had said, as though that were supposed to somehow absolve the pain she had caused. The death of our son had shattered me in ways I could scarcely articulate. It was an unbearable ache, a constant, throbbing void where joy once lived. Yet, even in my profound sorrow, I couldn’t forsake the tiny life growing within me, nestled deep in my belly. waited in the sterile, unfeeling lobby, each tick of the clock magnifying my anxiety. A nagging sense of unease began to prick at my consciousness, and I glanced around, my gaze falling upon Laura. She was standing just outside, her posture tense, her phone clutched tightly in her hand. She seemed engrossed in something on the screen, her expression a mix of concentration and secrecy. Before I could ponder it further, a sudden, jarring noise shattered the relative calm. A car skidded into view, its tires screeching against the pavement. My heart lurched as I saw it careening toward our parked car with an alarming speed. The impact was deafening—metal crumpling, glass shattering, and the force of the collision rippling through the air like a shockwave. I felt a violent jolt, my body thrown forward as if caught in a tempest. My head struck the edge of the car’s interior with a brutal force, the pain exploding in a blinding, searing burst. Everything seemed to spiral out of control; the world spun with dizzying speed as the driver of the offending vehicle tried to regain control, his car veering wildly. The chaotic scene unfolded in slow motion, each moment dragging out with agonizing clarity. The next thing I knew, darkness consumed me. My body went limp, and the cacophony of the accident faded into an eerie, hollow silence. I was floating, adrift in a sea of unconsciousness, the pain and fear dissolving into a disorienting abyss. In the brief moments of clarity I had before losing consciousness, I caught a fleeting glimpse of Laura’s horrified face she remained rooted to the spot, her eyes wide and unblinking, her breathing shallow and erratic. The gravity of the moment seemed to weigh heavily upon her, causing her to fumble with her phone. It took an eternity for her to dial the emergency number, her fingers trembling uncontrollably. Medical staff arrived with swift efficiency, their faces etched with a blend of determination and grim resignation. They worked feverishly, their hands moving with practiced precision, but there was an air of helplessness that clung to them, a silent acknowledgment of the severity of my condition. From my elevated vantage point, I watched with a sense of growing dread as they wheeled me into the emergency room. The cold, harsh lights of the hospital starkly illuminated the scene, casting long shadows that seemed to stretch out like fingers of fate. I could see the intense focus in their eyes, the urgent whispers exchanged, the desperate measures taken. But despite their best efforts, a cold, heavy certainty began to seep into my consciousness. I felt an overwhelming realization that my chances of survival were slipping away, the sense of finality pressing down like a suffocating weight. The darkness of unconsciousness loomed closer, and the faint echoes of my own fears became a mournful soundtrack to the desperate flurry of activity around me. Yet, even as my grip on reality began to wane, one disquieting detail remained clear in my mind: Laura’s reaction. Amid the urgency of the situation, I noticed something profoundly unsettling. She hadn’t called the police. She had only reached out to emergency services, and her behavior seemed inexplicably detached. It was as if something was profoundly wrong, a sense of disquiet that gnawed at the edges of my awareness. As the medical staff worked on me, I could see their heads shaking in somber resignation, their attempts becoming more futile with each passing moment. The knowledge that I might not be saved settled heavily upon me, the finality of it all casting a dark pall over my fading consciousness. The eerie silence of the operating room seemed to grow louder as the room became increasingly distant. Laura’s strange, almost mechanical presence at the periphery of the scene remained a haunting, unanswered question. And as the darkness enveloped me, I was left with a final, chilling thought: why had she not called for the police? Jason arrived, his face etched with panic and desperation. He burst into the room, his eyes wide and searching, his breaths coming in short, ragged bursts. But even as he approached, the gravity of the situation was evident. The doctors’ solemn expressions and the somber tone of their voices conveyed what the reality was too painfully clear to deny. When the doctor finally spoke those devastating words—”We did everything we could, but I’m afraid we’ve lost her”—the impact was palpable. Jason’s body seemed to convulse with the force of his grief, a shudder that wracked him twice before he collapsed onto the cold, sterile floor. He sank down as though the weight of the world had suddenly become too much to bear. His cries, raw and wrenching, filled the room, a primal expression of pain that cut through the oppressive silence. Laura, who had been sobbing beside me, now buried her face in her hands. Her shoulders shook with the force of her anguish, her voice breaking as she uttered words of regret and self-reproach. “It’s all my fault,” she choked out between gasping sobs. “I didn’t take good care of Selina… of the baby… If only I had been more vigilant, more careful…” The sound of her anguish was haunting, a stark contrast to the clinical coldness of the emergency room. Her voice wavered with the weight of guilt and sorrow, each word a painful reminder of the fragility of life and the harshness of fate. Jason’s despair was almost palpable, his cries an anguished plea to the heavens as he lamented the loss. “If possible,” he sobbed, his voice breaking with the strain, “I would rather it had been me. I would trade my life for hers… for the baby. I would give anything to undo this.” Around us, the murmurs of the other patients in the waiting area were tinged with sorrow and sympathy. They whispered among themselves, their voices heavy with lament. They spoke of how much Jason and Laura had cared for me, how deeply their grief spoke to the love and commitment they had shown. Jefferson entered the room, his face etched with the rawness of grief, his eyes red and puffy from hours of crying. He held something tightly in his hand, a piece of paper that seemed almost to pulse with the gravity of the situation. The room, already heavy with the weight of collective sorrow, felt even more oppressive as he approached Jason. “Jason,” Jefferson’s voice was thick with emotion, barely holding back the tremor that threatened to break free. He extended the insurance policy toward Jason, his hand shaking slightly. “This is the insurance policy… the one that Selina bought before she… before she passed away. You’re the beneficiary. I’m… I’m giving it to you now.” Jason, still slumped on the floor, looked up through his tears, the dazed expression on his face reflecting the shock and disbelief that had consumed him. He took the document from Jefferson’s trembling hand, his fingers brushing against the cold, impersonal paper that now felt like a cruel reminder of what had been lost. The harsh reality of Jefferson’s words cut through the chaos. “Once a person dies, they can’t come back to life,” he said, his voice a harsh whisper of finality. During my pregnancy with our second child, the weight of impending responsibility seemed to press down on me with an almost unbearable intensity. The loss of our first son was a wound that would never fully heal, and the prospect of bringing another life into the world was both a beacon of hope and a source of profound anxiety. It was in this fragile state of mind that Jefferson’s insistence on a personal accident insurance policy found its way into our lives. Jefferson had approached me with a sense of urgency and conviction that was difficult to ignore. “It’s not just about you,” he had said, his voice carrying an undercurrent of gravity. “If something were to happen, this policy could provide a safety net for the baby, for the future.” His words, though unsettling, made a kind of sense in the context of my fears. I was convinced by his reasoning, and amidst the whirlwind of emotions and preparations for the new arrival, I signed the document. “Why?” Jason’s voice, raw and anguished, broke through the murmur of the room. “Why did it have to be this way? Why does it feel like everything we did to protect ourselves has only made the pain worse?” The child had not been born yet, so the beneficiary was Jason. Surrounding him were the medical professionals, their expressions a mix of professional detachment and deep empathy. The families of other patients, drawn by the commotion, stood at a respectful distance, their faces reflecting a shared sense of compassion and unease. He carefully unfolded the insurance policy, his movements deliberate and almost reverent. His face, though streaked with tears, bore a faint, enigmatic smile—a smile that seemed almost out of place in the context of his grief. Jason, engulfed in his own profound grief, sought to manage the immediate aftermath with a sense of hurried finality. With Jefferson’s assistance—a relationship steeped in familial ties and the practicalities of dealing with such a sudden and devastating loss—plans were swiftly put into motion. They want to cremate me as soon as possilbe. Laura’s voice cut through with a note of anguished concern. “There’s a baby in her belly,” she said, her words trembling with a mixture of fear and superstition. “It wouldn’t be right to cremate them together. It’s not auspicious.” For a fleeting moment, I had clung to the hope that Jason would honor both me and the unborn child, that he would find a way to protect our last vestige of hope. But hope, in the face of such overwhelming grief, often fades into a cruel and unforgiving reality. With a face etched in a grim resolve, Jason nodded to Jefferson, a decision made in the depths of his pain. Jefferson, who had been a steady presence amidst the chaos, now stepped forward with an almost eerie calmness. His face was set in a determined expression, reflecting the grim task ahead. The room seemed to hold its breath as Jefferson began the procedure. The clinical sounds of the medical staff preparing, the rustle of sterile sheets, and the muted beeping of monitors created a jarring contrast to the emotional storm swirling around them. Each sound, each movement, felt like a stark reminder of the painful reality that was unfolding. The extraction of the baby from my body was a scene of heart-wrenching cruelty. The tiny, delicate form was removed with clinical precision, the procedure carried out with a detachment that seemed almost barbaric in its coldness. The baby, so small and fragile, was placed into a small, stark container—a vessel that seemed to absorb all the warmth and hope that had once surrounded it. Jefferson, with a methodical detachment, carried the container toward a trash can. The sight was unbearable. The small, lifeless body of the baby, once a symbol of new beginnings, was now a discarded object, reduced to the most impersonal of receptacles. The trash can loomed large, a cruel and final destination for what had been a beacon of hope and potential. The clang of the container as it was lowered into the trash can was a harsh, final note that seemed to reverberate through the room. The sound was jarring, a stark and unforgiving punctuation to the devastating scene. It echoed with a sense of finality that cut through the air like a blade, underscoring the brutal reality of what had just transpired. Jason stood by, his face contorted with an anguish that words could scarcely capture. His eyes, once filled with tears, now stared blankly at the trash can, as if trying to reconcile the incongruity of the act with the depth of his grief. The scene was a brutal testament to the harsh decisions made in the depths of sorrow, a painful reminder of the fragile line between hope and despair. Laura’s cries, raw and desperate, filled the room with a sorrow that seemed almost palpable. Her sobs were a haunting echo of the pain and loss that had become a suffocating presence. The onlookers, their faces etched with shock and profound sadness, stood silent witness to the tragic unfolding, their eyes reflecting a mixture of empathy and horror. Once the last remnants of my physical presence had been reduced to ashes, Jason’s attention shifted to the next urgent matter at hand—the insurance compensation. In the quiet of the night, he hurried to the insurance company, driven by a determination to claim what was due. His face, a mask of weariness and despair, held an anxious hope as he presented the necessary documents. The waiting room of the insurance office was a place of clinical efficiency, but for Jason, it was charged with a personal intensity. The minutes dragged as he awaited the outcome, each tick of the clock a reminder of the gravity of his actions. When the final number was revealed, it was as though a weight had been lifted, but not in the way one might hope for. Jason’s eyes widened as he saw the amount of the compensation—a substantial sum that promised to alleviate the financial burden but also held a peculiar allure of relief and even elation. His face, etched with the pain of recent loss, suddenly brightened with an almost unsettling smile. It was a smile that seemed to juxtapose the grief he had so recently endured, a stark contrast to the tragic events that had led to this moment. The amount was substantial, and the promise of financial stability seemed to offer a bittersweet solace. That night, as the moon cast its cold light across the city, Jason and Laura returned home, their minds occupied by the practicalities of their new reality. Little did they know that the night would bring more than just the shadows of their sorrow. Laura, who had been quieter than usual throughout the day, suddenly found her energy renewed. Her eyes sparkled with a feverish intensity as she turned to Jason, her face lighting up with a fervor that seemed almost out of place given the day’s events. The promise of the insurance payout had injected a jolt of vitality into her demeanor. “Did you get the money?” Laura’s voice was filled with an eagerness that bordered on manic. She clutched at Jason’s arm, her grip tight with anticipation. “Thanks to Jefferson this time. She made Selina, that bitch, buy insurance before she died. It’s not in vain that I served her so well with good food and drinks before.” Her words tumbled out in a rapid, almost breathless torrent, her excitement barely contained. The house, which had been a place of sorrow and mourning, now felt as though it was pulsating with a new, unsettling energy. Laura’s face, flushed with a mix of triumph and greed, was a stark contrast to the mournful expression she had worn earlier. As Laura’s gaze fell on the amount of compensation Jason had received, her expression transformed dramatically. “I didn’t expect this money-consuming thing to be so valuable,” she began, her tone a mix of incredulity and self-reproach. Her words spilled out with a fervent intensity, as if she were trying to process the magnitude of the situation aloud. “If I had known it earlier, I wouldn’t have gone through all the trouble of pretending to have a heart attack at the baby’s full moon banquet and then dropping it to smash her. The first time she didn’t die, she was so lucky.The child was dead. It’s not worth it!” “By the way,” she began, her voice taking on a cold, commanding tone, “since Selina’s dead, did her dowry and the house she bought before your marriage all belong to you now?” “You should quickly follow up on this,” Laura urged, her voice now tinged with an icy determination. “Liquidate whatever can be liquidated. Every asset, every last bit of property that belonged to her. Make it all yours.” Listening to their conversation, I felt a chill all over my body. I couldn’t stop trembling. “It turns out that Laura was faking a heart attack before,” “She staged the entire thing to get my fortune. She pretended to have a heart attack so she could drop my son, aiming to smash me as I was passing by downstairs. She failed in that, but the result was even more devastating. My son died on the spot.” Jason said it was just an accident. It turned out that all of this was Laura’s conspiracy. I yearned to rend them asunder, to tear their world into a thousand shreds and watch their ruin unfold. Yet, as I reached for this desperate retribution, my own essence felt insubstantial, like mist slipping through grasping fingers. My soul, once a beacon of fierce determination, now felt like an ethereal wisp—powerless and hollow, unable to manifest the wrath that roared within me. In that moment of bitter impotence, I was left only with the haunting echo of my own impotent rage, a specter of vengeance unable to shape reality. Jason’s face changed. “Mom, Selina had an accident at Jefferson’s hospital. Jefferson orchestrated the car crash. When you’re out, make sure to act really upset. Otherwise, someone might leak this online, and if the truth gets out, we’ll be hammered by everyone on the internet.” Laura quickly lowered her voice. “Don’t worry, I won’t say a word. But what about Jefferson? Did you take care of him?” Jason smirked. “Mom, relax. Jefferson’s boss is an old buddy of our boss. Jefferson donated Selina’s kidney to my boss’s daughter. With that connection, they’ll help us keep this under wraps.” “And I heard they’re going to promote Jefferson and give his boss a luxury car because of it.” … Listening to Jason and Laura plot their future, my rage boiled over. I wanted to tear them apart and see if their hearts were as rotten as their souls. As I flailed my arms in frustration, a gust of wind swept through, knocking a vase off the table and shattering it on the floor. The room fell into a tense silence. Jason went pale, and Laura dropped to her knees. “Selina, if you’re looking to blame someone, blame yourself,” Laura spat. “If I hadn’t married into the Black family, none of us would have faced so many disasters, and we wouldn’t be staring down death.” I tried to lunge at them, to slap the truth into their faces. But instead, my body began to fade, becoming translucent. “Am I disappearing?” But no, I wasn’t disappearing. I was being reborn. I found myself back on the day Laura was supposed to take me to Jefferson’s hospital for my prenatal check-ups.

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I have severe bipolar disorder and need to take medication constantly to keep it under control. On the bus ride home, I encountered a creepy old man who kept rubbing his crotch against my backside. I hadn’t taken my medication for two days and was afraid I might lose control if provoked, so I used my backpack as a barrier between us. Seeing he couldn’t take advantage anymore, he started shouting loudly that I was being inconsiderate by using my backpack to take up his seat space. He even grabbed my backpack and threw it far away. But that backpack contained my medication – my sedatives! He had no idea he’d just thrown away his own lifeline. 0I have severe bipolar disorder – a mental illness that causes extreme mood swings between depression and mania. I’ve been taking medication to control it, but I can’t stop the meds. I had just picked up my prescription from the hospital today. That doctor is so annoying – every time he talks, I want to sew his mouth shut so he can never speak again. I hadn’t taken my medication for two days. Of course, I didn’t take it today either. I hate the hospital and didn’t want to stay there a minute longer than necessary. The noise on the bus was grating on my nerves. The irritation inside me felt like a wild beast, ready to explode at any moment. Just then, a balding man got on and sat next to me, constantly pressing against me. This guy was truly ugly and fat. His big round face was rougher than a shoe sole. I wanted to take a knife and slice off the fat from his face to feed to dogs! How could someone be so shameless? He was already taking up two seats with his size, yet he kept squeezing closer to me. I really wanted to slap him with a shoe. Damn it, at his age, how could he be so shameless? He reeked of sweat. The people nearby had already moved far away when he first got on. When he squeezed over again, I finally couldn’t hold back: “Can you move over? You’re crushing me!” You old bastard, if the hospital wasn’t currently evaluating my mental state, I would’ve thrown you out the window already. I shoved my backpack roughly between us and rolled my eyes. What a piece of trash, truly more shameless with age! “Young lady, this is a public space, not your home. You can’t use your backpack to take up space. I’ll sit however I want, it’s none of your business,” he said, giving me a challenging side-eye. He shook his smelly bare feet. The people around were already fed up with him. Seeing the conflict arise, they immediately called over the bus attendant. The attendant held his breath against the sour stench and came over to remind him to be considerate of others. “I paid for my ticket. I didn’t pay for you to boss me around,” the old man said arrogantly. “Young people these days have no respect for their elders,” he added. “Sir, this is a public space. Your behavior is disturbing other passengers,” the attendant said helplessly. “I must also warn you, it’s best not to provoke this young lady,” the attendant cautioned him. “I’ll do what I want! What are you going to do about it?” he retorted, going back to shaking his leg and picking his nose. Suddenly he flicked a big booger from his nose towards the attendant. Although it didn’t hit the attendant, it was disgusting enough. The attendant wrinkled his brow tightly and covered his mouth, looking like he might throw up at any moment. “What are you looking at? I’ll really throw it on you next time!” the old man said brazenly. The attendant was so upset he was nearly in tears. He covered his mouth and fled. 0

Several nearby passengers couldn’t stand it anymore and started criticizing him: “This is a public space, you have no manners at all.” “At your age, bullying two young girls, have you no shame?” “We all paid for tickets. I’ve never seen someone like this before. Look, no one dares sit next to you.” “Exactly, acting like this is your own home.” The old man sneered, “Mind your own business!” “You only know how to bully an old man like me. This girl is taking up my seat with her bag, why don’t you say something about that?” he said. “It’s just a stupid bag. I’ll get rid of it for you,” he said as he grabbed my backpack and threw it far away. “What a piece of junk, trying to take up my seat.” The medication in my bag spilled out everywhere as it flew through the air. Damn it, my meds! My sedatives! This guy is really asking for it. “Oh, so many pills! Young lady, taking all this medication at your age – you didn’t just have an abortion, did you?” the old man said with a look of disdain. My anger had reached its boiling point, like a balloon about to burst. An internal struggle raged in my mind. One voice said, “Go for it! Kick him! He’s ugly and shameless.” I felt like I was about to lose control. But another voice warned, “No, no, don’t cause trouble. You won’t pass the hospital evaluation and will end up in the psych ward. Don’t be impulsive, impulsiveness is the devil.” Remembering my past experiences in the psychiatric hospital sent a chill down my spine. I shoved the old man aside and picked up my sedatives from the ground, about to open the bottle and take some. But the old man snatched the pill bottle from my hand. “Let me teach you a lesson on behalf of your parents. Young lady, you need to take better care of yourself and not do shameful things.” He was about to throw my pill bottle out the window. “You’d better look carefully at what kind of medication it is and what it’s for before you throw it. You might regret it,” I warned. “Don’t make me laugh. I’ve seen plenty of girls like you. What else could these pills be but abortion pills? I’m going to throw them out and there’s nothing you can do about it!” he said. He opened the bottle right in front of me and dumped the pills out the window. “Go ahead and try to get them back now, little girl. You’re no match for me,” he said smugly, shaking the empty bottle. My mind exploded. To hell with “impulsiveness is the devil.” You can’t blame me for this. I grabbed a frying pan from under a lady’s feet nearby and started smacking his face with it repeatedly. I’d been wanting to do this for a while. I couldn’t stand looking at his face any longer. Before he could react, I kept hitting him all over with the frying pan. For a moment, the only sounds on the bus were the clanging of the pan and the old man’s howls of pain. The other passengers came to their senses after a couple shouts but then just continued watching the show. Not a single person tried to stop me. The old man had been too despicable earlier. Even the bus attendant pretended he couldn’t squeeze through the crowd, watching anxiously from the back. The old man cried out in pain, bawling like a child despite his age. Snot and tears were everywhere – disgusting. After venting my anger, I finally felt less pent up. I put down the frying pan and started picking up the remaining pills on the floor to put back in my bag. When I picked up the empty bottle, the old man grabbed the frying pan from the ground and was about to hit me with it. I dodged it swiftly, staring at him coldly like I was looking at a dead man. He still dares to provoke me? He must have a death wish. He said in a low voice, “Think you’re tough, little girl? Come on then!” Before he could finish gloating, with a loud thud, his whole body crashed heavily to the ground like a rag doll. The frying pan in his hand fell and hit him square on the nose. A piercing shriek echoed through the bus. I shoved the empty pill bottle in his face. “Do you know what this is? It’s your lifeline.” I took out another bottle of pills from my bag and threw it at him. “Go ahead, throw it out again.” The old man clutched the pills, not daring to move an inch. “What’s wrong? Want me to open it for you?” I grabbed another bottle, opened it, and forcefully threw it at him, shouting, “Throw it! Throw it all out! Don’t leave a single pill! I’m sick of taking this damn medication anyway!” He shook his head frantically. “Not going to throw them? Then you can just swallow them all yourself.” He covered his mouth and shook his head vigorously. I picked up the pills that had fallen on the floor one by one. As I picked them up, I said, “This one is taken on an empty stomach in the morning. So bitter.” I picked up another: “This one is taken before bed at noon. Doesn’t taste good either.” I continued picking them up: “This is taken before dinner. Tsk, takes away my appetite for the meal.” I kept picking up pills as I spoke, until I had a small handful. I stood up and walked over to the old man, grabbed his chin, and shoved all the pills in my hand into his mouth. The old man’s face turned bright red, his eyes bulging. He kept pounding on his chest. “Tasty? Are they tasty?” I asked. The old man nodded frantically, no longer caring about the bitterness in his mouth. “Since you like them so much, have some more.” I was about to pick up more pills from the ground. “No more, no more. I’ll never do it again,” he pleaded, looking at me in terror. The fat on his face was contorted – he was clearly scared out of his wits. He got lucky. Although I hadn’t taken my meds in two days, I had just had a counseling session at the hospital. The doctor’s words were still echoing in my mind. I have to admit, even though the doctor was a bit long-winded, his words were effective. If this had happened on a normal day when I hadn’t taken my meds for two days, the old man might not have even been able to beg for mercy. 0

The bus attendant was afraid the situation would escalate further, so he and a few passengers restrained me. Seeing that I was held back, the old man pointed at me and shouted, “Just you wait! I’m going to sue you for assault. I’ll make sure you go to jail!” “Want to bet I’ll cripple your hand?” I walked up to him step by step and grabbed the finger he was pointing at me with. The old man howled in pain, glaring at the people around him. “Why aren’t you stopping her? She’s completely insane!” I kicked him hard in the knee. The old man cried out and immediately fell to his knees. “I hate it when people call me crazy,” I said. This time the old man didn’t dare make any more moves. I saw him take out his phone and make a call, muttering something I couldn’t hear. “Oh, calling for backup? What, did you lose the fight so now you’re calling mommy?” I taunted. I stepped forward and snatched his phone, throwing it to the ground. “You like throwing things, don’t you? Let me help you!” I said. I went up and slapped him hard across the face twice. I shoved the empty pill bottle in his face again. “Look carefully. What kind of medication is this? This is your lifeline, not mine.” I slapped him again. The old man was so angry he was trembling all over, no longer caring about being scared. “You…you just wait. You’ll see how my son deals with you when we get to the stop. I’ll make you kneel and call me grandpa!” Oh, so we’re almost at the stop and he’s got backup coming. Feeling tough now, are we? “Alright, alright. You want to fight? Bring it on! I haven’t thrown down in a long time. I’ll use you to warm up first!” Without waiting for the old man’s reaction, I went up and kicked him. You dare glare at me? That deserves a hit. Gritting your teeth like you want to eat me? That deserves a hit. Not keeping your hands to yourself? That deserves a hit. Being this ugly and daring to go out in public? That deserves a hit. And so I kept hitting him the whole way, smacking him whenever I felt like it. Suddenly the old man stood up and shouted loudly, “Over here! I’m over here!” Looks like we’ve reached the stop. 0Among the crowd, I immediately spotted the person the old man was calling for. How should I put it – his obesity was exactly like the old man’s. Like father, like son. He shoved his way roughly through the passengers in the aisle, holding a cigarette between his fingers. He pointed at me and said, “So you’re the one who beat up my dad

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Olivia and her cousin were kidnapped. The kidnappers said they could only save one. I laughed on the spot. In my previous life, my brother and I were kidnapped, and Olivia chose to save my brother. History was repeating itself in this life. As for who I would choose, wasn’t it obvious? In the European-style banquet hall. Glasses clinked and perfume wafted through the air. My father and I stood on the stage, smiling as we greeted the guests. The butler quietly informed me: “Young Master, all the guests have arrived. Please start the opening dance.” Today was my 18th birthday. My father had thrown a grand birthday party for me, with all the prominent figures in our social circle gathered. I looked out at the crowd, but my designated “dance partner” was nowhere to be seen. My father leaned in and asked: “Where’s Olivia? Wasn’t she supposed to dance the opening number with you?” Olivia Gu, the eldest daughter of the Gu family, was my childhood friend. She was also supposed to be my “dance partner” tonight. I looked up. As expected, my half-brother Ethan was also absent. If my memory served me right, today was the first time they met in my previous life. Olivia had gone to the garden for some fresh air and encountered Ethan, who wasn’t used to high society parties. The two hit it off immediately, marking the beginning of their romantic entanglement. In my previous life, upon discovering Olivia had left, I immediately rushed out to look for her. I ended up seeing her chatting happily with Ethan. Consumed by jealousy, I punched Ethan. The consequences were that Olivia despised me, my father reprimanded me, and the guests looked down on me. Living this life again, I wouldn’t make the same mistake. Was a dance partner really that important? Could my birthday party not go on without Olivia? My gaze swept coldly over the crowd. A young woman in an unfashionable dress caught my eye. She was standing forlornly by a pillar, lost in thought. The girl had delicate features, a petite figure, skin as white as snow, and an elegant demeanor. She stood out like a sore thumb in this lavish and extravagant banquet hall. I walked towards her, much to everyone’s surprise. When the girl saw me approach, her rosy lips parted slightly, her face full of bewilderment. “Sophia, would you like to dance with me?” I extended my hand to her. Sophia Gu’s eyes flickered, pointing at herself in disbelief: “…You’re asking me?” “Who else would I be asking?” I smiled and asked: “Do you know how to waltz?” “Yes…” Sophia nodded, looking honored yet nervous. She shyly placed her hand in mine, allowing me to lead her to the center of the dance floor. The guests automatically made way for us. The band began playing the lively “Tales from the Vienna Woods.” Sophia carefully placed her hands on my shoulders as we began to dance. As we glided across the floor, I admired her bashful expression. A blush crept up her fair cheeks, like a ripe peach. “Relax, I’m not going to eat you,” I teased. Sophia’s palms were sweaty, and her steps were a bit unsteady. “S-sorry…” she apologized, flustered. In my previous life, I had only cared about Olivia, following her lead in everything. Influenced by Olivia, I had a very poor impression of Sophia. But I would never forget that in my previous life, when I fell from a tall building and was broken and battered, it was Sophia who knelt in the blood, desperately performing CPR on me as I was dying. Only after dying once did I see clearly who was human and who was a demon. I pulled my wandering thoughts back and continued to tease Sophia: “Is this your first time dancing with a boy?” “Yes…” “Well, I feel quite honored then.” As I was bantering, my eyes met a pair of shocked ones over Sophia’s shoulder—

Olivia stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows of the banquet hall, glaring at me. Ethan stood behind her, also looking surprised. It seemed they had just returned. I guess Olivia hadn’t expected that I wouldn’t wait for her and would directly ask Sophia, whom she looked down on the most, to dance the opening number. I had been reborn just yesterday. The moment I regained my new life, I vowed that in this life, I must live for myself. I was no longer anyone’s second choice, nor would I be anyone’s accessory. Ignoring Olivia’s murderous gaze, I continued to “gaze lovingly” at Sophia. “Sophia, if you ever need help in the future, you can come to me. I’ve got your back,” I said sincerely. Sophia was not favored in the family due to her mother’s humble background. Just for what she did for me as I was dying in my previous life, I would repay her well in this life. “Thank you, Lucas…” Sophia’s eyes misted over, her voice seemingly tinged with bitterness. As the song ended, Sophia retreated to a corner. The guests paired up and gradually moved onto the dance floor. While I politely exchanged pleasantries with the guests, I walked towards the buffet table and got myself a glass of juice. “What do you mean by this?” An angry voice laced with hidden fury sounded from behind me. I turned around to face the frost-faced Olivia. I took a sip of the sweet and sour orange juice, and asked in return: “What do you mean?” “Didn’t you ask me to be your dance partner?” Olivia accused, playing the victim: “Are you toying with me?” I couldn’t help but chuckle. How novel. In my previous life, Olivia would never take the initiative to talk to me. Let alone use this complaining tone to question me. I said: “If I remember correctly, I only asked you one-sidedly if you wanted to be my dance partner. Miss Gu didn’t agree, and when it came time for the opening dance, Miss Gu was nowhere to be seen. Did I have to send someone to find you before I could continue with the party?” She stared at me as if she didn’t recognize me. I had never spoken to her in this tone before, and I had always called her “Olivia” since we were young. This “Miss Gu” sounded distant and cold, as if we were just casual acquaintances. Taking advantage of her stunned silence, I added: “How old are you? Don’t you understand basic etiquette? Today is my birthday, don’t ruin my mood.” I left her with these words, walking away without looking back. The moment I turned around, a playful system notification sounded in my mind: “Congratulations, host! You have successfully slapped the female lead’s face. The system rewards you with 100 humiliation points. Accumulate 100,000 points to obtain a resurrection armor.” Right, not only had I been reborn, but I was also bound to a face-slapping system. The system said I had already passed away, but due to my strong obsession, it gave me a chance to be revived. But this didn’t mean I was truly alive. I needed to slap the faces of those who had hurt me in my previous life, gain 100,000 humiliation points to truly come back to life. And the time given to me wasn’t much. I needed to complete the task before the time of my death in my previous life. In my previous life, I was killed by kidnappers at the age of 24. I had 7 years. I must change my fate! After my rebirth, my goals were clear. Besides ensuring my own survival, I also had to take over the family business, absolutely not letting my mother and father’s business fall into others’ hands. My father and mother’s marriage was a business alliance, joining forces to multiply the scale of the Lu family’s business several times over. Unfortunately, my father was a fickle man. Shortly after my mother became pregnant with me, he rekindled his relationship with his first love, even having a child with her. This first love was Ethan’s mother. A year ago, my mother passed away due to illness, and she brought Ethan in, becoming the new mistress of the Lu family overnight. My father, considering my mother’s family background, didn’t dare mistreat me, but his heart had long since been biased. After returning to school, I began to study hard. To improve my grades quickly, I hired a top university graduate as a private tutor at a high price. Every day, apart from eating and sleeping, all I did was study. During lunch break, I was in the classroom eating the lunch prepared at home while silently reciting chemical formulas. Two boys who were usually quite friendly with me came over. One of them, named Henry, showed me his phone. I glanced at it disinterestedly. The video was shot on the rooftop of the teaching building. From the angle, it seemed to be secretly filmed. A boy and a girl were sitting in the shaded area of the rooftop, eating burgers together—

Who else could it be but Olivia and Ethan? Ethan shared his burger with her, and Olivia, who claimed to have germaphobia, accepted it without hesitation. I looked away indifferently. Henry, sharing my indignation, said: “This Ethan is so shameless. He knows Olivia is your childhood sweetheart, yet he’s still trying to curry favor with her.” Another classmate named Samuel also gritted his teeth and said: “Like mother, like son. No wonder he’s the son of a homewrecker.” Henry immediately suggested: “Lucas, let’s teach him a lesson. Let’s lock him up and beat him!” The whole school knew that Ethan’s mother was a homewrecker. In my previous life, although I hated him, at first I only took measures to isolate him, without causing any actual harm. Until I discovered he was getting closer to Olivia. I became consumed with jealousy, and with the instigation of some people with ulterior motives, I joined several classmates in bullying Ethan. Come to think of it, my untimely death in my previous life was also due to my own actions. I finished my lunch, closed the lunch box lid, and said leisurely: “Let them be. The final exams are coming up soon, there’s no need to waste energy on irrelevant people.” My response took them by surprise. Especially Henry, who pressed on: “Lucas, are you really going to let him off like this? Isn’t that too easy on him?” Samuel chimed in: “Yeah, Ethan is so audacious, daring to steal your girlfriend. You can’t just let him get away with it.” I sighed, emphasizing again: “Olivia and I are just neighbors, we were never a couple. She can be with whoever she wants, it has nothing to do with me. I just want to focus on studying now, I don’t have time for anything else.” Henry and Samuel looked at each other, unable to accept my change in attitude for a moment. I advised them: “Put more effort into studying. Nothing is more important than improving yourself.” Henry said unhappily: “We’re just looking out for you. Not only are you ungrateful, but you’re also lecturing us.” I couldn’t be bothered to argue with him. I put away my lunch box and took out my chemistry notes to review. Seeing my cold attitude, Henry angrily pulled Samuel away. I glanced at him thoughtfully, recalling some things… The first class in the afternoon was a chemistry test. After the chemistry teacher came in, he looked around the classroom and asked: “Where’s Ethan?” Only then did I realize Ethan hadn’t come back. The classmates all said they didn’t know. The chemistry teacher turned his gaze to me. “Lucas, do you know where he went?” I stated frankly: “Teacher, I didn’t leave the classroom after class. I don’t know.” After hearing my explanation, the chemistry teacher didn’t pursue the matter further and hurried to hand out the test papers. Chemistry was my strong suit, and with my recent tutoring showing results, I finished all the questions in just half an hour. I double-checked my answers twice to make sure there were no mistakes. I looked up towards Ethan’s seat, but he still hadn’t returned. Could something have happened? I frowned. The chemistry teacher was also very worried, pacing back and forth on the podium, occasionally looking towards the door. I decided to be a good person for once. I raised my hand and said: “Teacher, I’ve finished my test. Shall I go look for Ethan?” The chemistry teacher was more than happy to agree. After leaving the classroom, I didn’t go directly to look for Ethan, but turned to the classroom next door— “Excuse me, teacher, I need to find Olivia,” I said to the history teacher on the podium, standing at the door. The history teacher was slightly taken aback, and the students in the classroom immediately started buzzing. Olivia looked at me with a long face, and various teasing sounds arose. The history teacher called for them to quiet down, then asked me: “What do you need her for?” I said: “Ethan from our class hasn’t returned to class. Someone saw him eating lunch with Olivia during the break, so I came to ask.” As soon as I finished speaking, the classroom erupted again. Olivia’s expression became even more colorful, full of anger and humiliation. She stood up abruptly without waiting for the teacher’s signal. “I don’t know where Ethan went!” she said loudly. I raised my chin and said: “Anyway, he’s missing. Why don’t you come with me to look for him?” The other students joined in the commotion. The history teacher couldn’t take it anymore and impatiently shooed us away: “Olivia, go look with him! Come back to class when you find him!” I turned and left without waiting for Olivia. She complained behind me: “Lucas, what’s wrong with you? Can you stop causing trouble for me every day?”

I ignored her. Actually, I knew where Ethan was. In my previous life, after I found out he was eating lunch with Olivia, I had ganged up with Henry and others to teach him a lesson. I awakened in this life, and I let him off, but that doesn’t mean others would. I headed straight for a certain men’s bathroom on the top floor. This floor was high up, and hardly anyone ever came here. Just as I reached the door, I heard repeated banging sounds from inside. I rushed in first, and sure enough, the door handle of the cubicle near the back was tied shut with a rope. The rope was tied in a dead knot, and I had no tools to untie it. Olivia peered in from outside the bathroom: “Is he in there?” Before I could answer, Ethan, who was locked inside, called out: “Olivia! Is that you? I’m here!” As Olivia hesitated, I folded my arms and said: “What are you standing there for? Go find some scissors!” Olivia stamped her foot and ran off to find a pair of scissors. I cut the rope, and Ethan was finally able to get out. He was in such a hurry that he was sweating profusely, repeatedly thanking us. “Who locked you in here?” Olivia asked while glaring at me suspiciously. Ethan stammered: “I… I don’t know… There was a boy I didn’t recognize who said he left something here and asked me to help look… As soon as I went in, the door was locked…” Olivia turned on me fiercely: “Lucas, you did this, didn’t you?” I gave her a cold look: “Evidence.” “What?” I pointed at the security camera outside the hallway: “You say I did it, do you have any evidence? Why don’t we check the security footage?” In my previous life, Ethan was locked up until almost the end of school before Olivia rescued him. Olivia used her status as the daughter of a school board member to demand that the school check the security footage. In the end, it was proven that I was behind it, and from then on, Olivia despised me even more. Now, Olivia was left speechless by my question. I sneered: “Don’t accuse me without evidence.” “If you didn’t do it, how did you know he was here?” Olivia’s suspicion wasn’t unfounded. I remained composed and said coolly: “In the entire school building, this is the most suitable place to lock someone up. Next time someone locks you up here, I guarantee you’ll be calling for help with no response.” Not waiting for Olivia to react, I turned to tell Ethan: “There’s still 40 minutes left for the chemistry test. If you don’t want to turn in a blank paper, you’d better hurry back.” Ethan followed me back to the classroom with a dejected look. I led him back to the classroom. The chemistry teacher was relieved, asked him a few questions, and then let him return to his seat to take the test. As I walked past Henry, I clearly saw his eyes flicker, his face full of dissatisfaction. Olivia did end up checking the security footage later and found out who was behind it. It was Henry. He had always had a crush on Olivia but didn’t dare pursue her because of my presence. That day, after learning that Olivia and I had “broken up,” he thought of eliminating Ethan as an obstacle. Little did he expect to fail so miserably. After the incident came to light, Henry became a pariah that everyone avoided. And Olivia was once again slapped in the face by me, this time even more severely than at my birthday party. The system rewarded me with 200 humiliation points, bringing my current total to 300 points. In this life, I focused all my energy on studying and no longer targeted Ethan. Olivia and I also gradually grew apart, with classmates all rumoring that we had broken up—though in reality, we had never dated. Without me interfering, and with his closeness to Olivia, Ethan gained quite a few friends. Time flew by, and another half semester passed. On this day, there was a cultural activity, with a dance competition for the whole grade. When Olivia took the stage, the entire audience erupted in applause. Ethan and his friends sat below the stage, cheering for her. Their disloyal behavior displeased the girls in our class. I sat in a corner, silently memorizing knowledge points from flashcards. Cheers constantly erupted from the stage, with Olivia’s graceful dance moves eliciting numerous screams. I dug at my ears, annoyed by the noise. Just as I picked up a flashcard to check, I suddenly saw a familiar figure.

I squinted at the doorway. It was Sophia, whom I hadn’t seen in a long time. She was two grades below me, not on the same floor, so I rarely encountered her. She walked towards the small woods by the sports field, where there was an old sports equipment room. I watched curiously for a few more moments and saw several girls standing in front of the equipment room door. One of them roughly grabbed Sophia’s collar, and the others immediately surrounded her. Sensing trouble, I put the flashcards back in my pocket and quickly ran over. I had only taken a few steps when I heard exclamations from behind. “Olivia!” Olivia’s classmates were calling for her. I ignored them and continued running towards Sophia. Before I could reach her, she was already knocked to the ground by those girls. I shouted while running: “Teacher! Over here! There’s a fight here!” Hearing this, the girls scattered in fright. I helped up the dust-covered Sophia. Her face was bruised, and her blue sportswear was stained with footprints. “Lucas…” she called out awkwardly. “Are you okay? Who were those people?” I asked with a frown. Sophia shook her head and explained: “A boy in class gave me a love letter a few days ago. His admirers were unhappy and came to cause trouble for me.” I thought to myself, can’t these young people care more about their future? All they do is fight over love. “We should report this to the teacher.” Sophia shook her head again. “It’s fine… It’s not a big deal, it’s happened before.” Despite both being from the Gu family, Olivia was the school belle and a celebrity, while Sophia was treated completely differently. Whether at home or at school, she was targeted maliciously because of her background. I encouraged her: “Study hard, and when you grow up and become successful, you can slap their faces hard!” “Mm, thank you Lucas…” “If they go too far, you still need to tell the teacher, or you can tell me too.” “Okay…” Sophia agreed verbally, but with her personality of being used to bullying, she had long lost the courage to resist. “I’ll take you to the infirmary,” I said, supporting Sophia as we walked towards the teaching building. Sophia hurriedly declined politely: “You don’t have to trouble yourself, Lucas. Aren’t you still in the middle of an event…” I said frankly: “Watching girls dance is extremely boring. I was just idle anyway.” Only then did Sophia obediently follow me to the infirmary. As I was supporting her in, I unexpectedly saw Olivia sitting inside. She was accompanied by two girls, and the school nurse was crouched beside her, spraying her knee with an analgesic spray. Her knee was scraped and slightly swollen. When I left earlier, I heard her classmates calling her. I guess that’s when she fell. Seeing Sophia and me, Olivia’s expression changed drastically. Ignoring her, I said to the school nurse: “This junior was beaten up by some classmates. Could you please check her over?” The nurse said: “Wait a moment, I haven’t finished here yet…” Olivia glared at us viciously. Sophia sensed the other party’s hostile gaze. She looked pitiful, her eyes reddening as she said: “Lucas, I can manage on my own… Why don’t you go back first…” “No need, I’m not in a hurry. I’ll see this through,” I insisted. My conversation with Sophia finally provoked Olivia’s displeasure. She said sarcastically: “You really are compassionate, willing to skip class to help others.” I thought to myself, I didn’t provoke you, why are you being so passive-aggressive? I retorted: “Aren’t you supposed to be a dance prodigy? How did you get injured in a small cultural activity? Have you been lacking exercise lately?” Olivia’s face immediately darkened. Her friend came to her defense: “Lucas, how can you talk like that? Olivia was distracted when she saw you leave and that’s why she fell.” Olivia said angrily: “Shut up!” I snorted coldly, not taking it seriously: “She carelessly fell on her own, why blame others?” “You…” Olivia’s friend wanted to say more. Sophia beside me suddenly inhaled sharply. “Ouch…” 6. My attention returned to her, and I quickly asked: “What’s wrong?” She covered her cheek and said: “It’s nothing…” “Does it hurt a lot?” I moved her hand away. Half of her face was swollen. With the nurse’s permission, I got an ice pack to apply to Sophia’s face. Olivia’s friend couldn’t help but interject again: “Why don’t you show some concern for Olivia? Aren’t you childhood sweethearts?” Olivia remained silent, seemingly agreeing with her friend’s words. I said nothing, casting a cold glance at them, continuing to apply the ice pack. Sophia whispered: “Lucas… you don’t have to take care of me, I’ve dealt with injuries on my own before… Go check on Olivia… She needs you more…” This sounded a bit manipulative. But I wasn’t falling for it. No wonder men like green tea bitches, who could resist this? I patted Sophia and said: “Silly girl, you’re clearly the one who’s been wronged but you’re keeping it to yourself. She has so many people around her, does she really need me too?” Ignoring Olivia and her friends’ angry faces, I said solemnly: “Olivia, you always claim to be the embodiment of justice, so why do you turn a blind eye when your own cousin is bullied at school? If either of these two friends of yours were beaten up, you wouldn’t stand idly by, right? How come when it’s your own flesh and blood cousin, you have this indifferent attitude?” This was exactly how Olivia had berated me in my previous life when Ethan was bullied and I didn’t help him. Aside from that one time I locked Ethan in the bathroom, I never bothered him again. It was always those who admired Olivia who did things in my name. In my previous life, I knew Olivia didn’t like cruel men, so I had already restrained myself from targeting Ethan. But whenever anything happened to Ethan, Olivia would blame it all on me. “When your own flesh and blood brother is bullied, you have this indifferent attitude?” These were her exact words to me back then. Now I was throwing them right back at her, tit for tat. Olivia was so angry and flustered by my scolding that she couldn’t utter a word in response. Her two sidekicks were also left speechless. The school nurse felt awkward and said to them: “Alright, this student’s injury isn’t serious. Go back and rest well, don’t do any strenuous exercise, it’ll be fine in a couple of days.” Olivia was supported away by her friends on either side. As soon as they left, the system came online: “Congratulations, host! You have successfully slapped the female lead’s face. The system rewards you with 200 humiliation points! Current score: 500 points.” The school nurse came over to treat Sophia’s wounds. Sophia continued to play coy, saying: “Lucas, is Olivia angry? Why don’t… you go comfort her? I’m fine now…” I scoffed, “Comfort her for what? She’s clearly making a fuss over nothing. Why should I indulge her?” I realized that with Sophia around, slapping Olivia’s face was a piece of cake. Sophia said guiltily, “I don’t want to affect your relationship because of me…” “I don’t have any relationship with her. We’re just childhood neighbors and classmates, and our families are close. That’s all,” I lied blatantly. Time flew by, and it was time to apply for universities. During this period, I was busy applying to schools and didn’t have time to slap Olivia’s face. My score remained at 500 points, but I wasn’t in a hurry. I still had seven years to slowly slap her face. My hard work during this time paid off, and I finally got accepted into my dream school, Oxford University. Olivia also got accepted to this school, but her GPA was much lower than mine. As a result, she suffered a harsh slap to the face. System: “Congratulations, host! You have successfully slapped the female lead’s face. The system rewards you with 500 humiliation points! Current score: 1000 points.” My score suddenly jumped to 1000 points, and I felt triumphant. In my previous life, I had spent a fortune to squeeze into Oxford University just to be with Olivia at all times. Back then, she had mocked me: “With your level, even if you barely get in, you’re just wasting a spot.” Now, I had finally vindicated myself. After receiving the acceptance emails, the Gu and Lu families gathered for a celebratory dinner. During the meal, Olivia’s mother brought up: “The kids are all preparing for university now. Why don’t we hold an engagement ceremony for Lucas and Olivia before the start of the semester?” 7. Engagement… This brought back unpleasant memories. In my previous life, it was also at this time that I had pestered and pleaded to get engaged to Olivia. At that time, my father wanted to curry favor with the Gu family, and the Gu family was also eyeing the wealth of the Lu family and my mother’s family. So the two families quickly agreed. At the engagement party, Olivia had given me the cold shoulder the entire time. When it came time for the group photo, she even pulled a disappearing act. I later found out that she had snuck out to meet secretly with Ethan. By the way, Ethan had been accepted into an art school in France. He had a talent for design and went to study in France for four years. During those four years, I thought I could win Olivia’s heart. However, as soon as Ethan returned, he effortlessly stole Olivia away. Now history was repeating itself, but this time it was the Gu family who first brought up the engagement. I saw Olivia frowning, neither agreeing nor refusing. It seemed I would have to play the villain again. I spoke leisurely: “You must be joking. Once we’re in university, Olivia and I will meet many new friends. We might even meet our future partners. Getting engaged now would limit both our futures. I don’t think it’s appropriate.” The expressions of those at the table varied. After hearing this, Olivia glared at me angrily for some reason. I took the opportunity to drag her into it: “Don’t you agree, Olivia? Besides, we’re just friends after all.” But Olivia didn’t play along. She said sarcastically: “Just friends? Do you even believe that yourself?” I chuckled and asked: “Olivia, did I say something wrong? Don’t you want to be friends with me? I’ve always treated you like a little sister.” “You…” Olivia’s chest heaved violently, as if suppressing her anger. My father couldn’t help but interject: “Enough! If you’re not getting engaged, then you’re not. Stop talking nonsense.” Olivia’s aunt, who had suggested the engagement, looked embarrassed and tried to smooth things over: “Right, right… I was just joking. The kids are grown up now, they have their own thoughts. As parents, we should respect their decisions.” Olivia’s uncle also chimed in: “We’re all family here, no need for such formalities.” Olivia turned her face away from me in anger. I glanced at Ethan, who was quietly eating. Intentionally not letting him off the hook, I said: “But now that the college entrance exams are over, we should celebrate properly. Ethan is preparing to study abroad in France. Why don’t we throw him a farewell party?” Ethan’s mother, Jane, was a bit simple-minded. Hearing my suggestion, she immediately beamed with joy. “That’s right, Ethan is leaving for abroad soon. We should invite relatives and friends to celebrate for him…” My father interrupted her sternly: “What do you know? If we’re having a party, it should be for all the graduating kids together! Hosting one just for Ethan, what kind of rule is that?” Jane suddenly realized she had misspoken and repeatedly apologized. Thus, the engagement party from my previous life was forcibly turned into a graduation party. I achieved my goal of slapping faces. System: “Congratulations, host! You have successfully slapped the female lead’s face and your stepmother’s face. The system rewards you with 300 humiliation points! Current score: 1300 points.” The graduation party was held in the banquet hall of my house. On this day, I encountered Sophia, whom I hadn’t seen in a long time. In just half a year, she had grown into an even more graceful young woman. Sophia took the initiative to raise a glass of champagne to congratulate me: “Congratulations, Lucas, on getting into your dream university.” I took a glass of juice from nearby and replaced her champagne. “You’re underage, don’t drink alcohol,” I said, caring like an older brother: “How have you been lately? Is anyone still bullying you?” She shook her head and said: “Almost never now. Even if there is, it’s just verbal taunts. I just ignore them.” “Good, focus on your studies. Use your good grades to hit back at those who look down on you.” “Thank you, Lucas. I’ll work hard,” her eyes seemed to sparkle. I smiled brightly and said: “If you ever need anything, just let me know. I’ll help if I can.” “Okay…” As we were chatting pleasantly, an unwelcome voice came from the side: “Lucas, I didn’t know you liked playing the big brother so much.” 8 This voice, I knew without looking that it was Olivia, who had been giving me trouble lately. I changed my warm attitude towards Sophia to a cold glance at Olivia. “Miss Gu, don’t you have anything better to do? Don’t you need to entertain guests?” I was implicitly criticizing her for meddling. Olivia’s tone sank: “Uncle Lu asked me to call you. He wants you to greet the professor from the Business School.” Only then did I put down my champagne and walk towards my father. Olivia left with me. As she was leaving, she shot a warning and hateful glance at Sophia, which happened to catch my eye. I stood beside my father, graciously exchanging pleasantries with the professor. The professor praised me for my promising future, saying I would be a big shot in the business world one day. My father was proud yet humble, saying: “Oh no, you’re too kind. You’re overpraising this boy.” I walked around with my father for a while, but didn’t see Olivia again. I assumed she had gone off to meet secretly with Ethan — however, I spotted Ethan sitting on a sofa in the rest area. Why was he still here? I wondered. Although there were three main characters at the party, Ethan was clearly being neglected. He sat quietly with Jane in a corner, eating a piece of cake. Ethan was timid and didn’t actively greet people, and other guests treated him as if he didn’t exist. High society was just that realistic. The illegitimate son of a mistress who had climbed the social ladder, without much ability himself — no wonder others in the circle treated him with disdain. As I was thinking this, the butler came running towards me in a panic. He didn’t dare to speak loudly, and whispered to me: “Young Master, Miss Gu… she’s arguing with her cousin!” Olivia was arguing with Sophia? I quickly asked: “Where are they?” “By the swimming pool…” I immediately ran off. Just as I reached the pool, I saw Olivia and Sophia grappling with each other. “Stop!” I shouted. Their movements paused for a moment. However, in the next instant, Sophia was “pushed” by Olivia, and she slipped. Splash!! Sophia fell into the cold pool water. I hurriedly called for help: “Someone come quickly—!” Several male servants rushed over and helped me pull Sophia out of the water. Several elders also arrived, having heard the commotion. Until Sophia was rescued, Olivia stood rooted to the spot like a clay statue. Sophia was like a drowned rat, lying on the ground coughing. Her face was pale, covered in water, looking pitiful. Uncle Gu asked: “What happened here?” Nobody at the scene dared to speak. I glared fiercely at Olivia, who was pretending to be deaf and dumb. I asked coldly: “Olivia! You pushed her in yourself, and now you don’t dare admit it?”

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My fiancé fell in love with his intern secretary Willow Bennett and insisted on breaking off our engagement. I kindly advised him, “She can’t help you become the heir of the Foster family. Why don’t you marry me first, and we can talk about it after you’ve secured your position?” The secretary felt insulted by my words and jumped off a building in public. Five years later, the first thing my husband did after becoming the Foster family heir was to divorce me and ruin my family’s business. “This is what you owe Willow Bennett,” he said. When I woke up again, it was my 22nd birthday party. People asked me what my birthday wish was. I smiled coldly, “I hope Caleb Foster marries Willow Bennett.” I died on a rainy day. Originally, we could have seen the mountain full of maple leaves, but Caleb couldn’t wait. I rolled down the stairs, step by step, blood spilling everywhere. He was still not satisfied. He pushed me down the stairs with his own hands, again and again. I was in so much pain I could barely make a sound, but I still asked reluctantly, “Why?” I didn’t understand. Our two families had always been close, and Caleb and I had been childhood sweethearts. For over a decade, my family had helped him establish his position in the family and become the heir. But he set a trap, causing my family to go bankrupt and my father to die of a heart attack. “Why, Caleb?” I clung to the hem of his clothes. Caleb’s face was frighteningly pale. Even though he was the one who hurt me, his expression looked as if I had let him down. “This is what you owe Willow Bennett,” he said through gritted teeth. Willow Bennett? This name sounded somewhat unfamiliar, so much so that it took me some effort to recall the name and the pure, delicate face behind it. I couldn’t help but laugh. Five years. So for these five years, Caleb had never forgotten her. So he blamed her death on me, on the entire Collins Group. “Caleb, you really are a…” Fool! Before I could utter the last two words, Caleb had already tightly gripped my neck. The oxygen in my chest was being drained bit by bit, blood trickling from the corner of my mouth. It looked just like those red maple leaves covering the mountain.

“Aria, are you having a headache again?” The cold rain disappeared. The hard floor disappeared. It was a clear autumn day, with guests gathering all around. My 22nd birthday party, which was also my engagement party with Caleb. Perhaps the heavens had opened their eyes, and I had actually been reborn. Not only was I not dead, but I had returned to when I was 22. This year, the Collins Group’s business was booming, and my father had entered the top ten on the Forbes list. This year, Caleb and I weren’t engaged yet. A gloating voice came from behind, “Yesterday, Caleb publicly admitted to the media that the little secretary is his girlfriend.” My best friend was about to go over, but I stopped her. Girlfriend? What Caleb did was far more than just admitting her status as his girlfriend. Three months ago, he went on a business trip and was drugged by a competitor. Willow Bennett saved him, and they ended up spending a night together. Caleb suddenly realized his true love and wanted to marry her. Including yesterday, they had been photographed by the media three times. “Aria, don’t listen to what the media says. You and Caleb have been together for so many years…” I looked at my best friend and shook my head. My friend’s words came to an abrupt halt. Of course, I knew what she was going to say. A week ago, I woke up at home. A week was enough time for me to sort out everything that had happened over the past five years. “Aria.” My friend suddenly reminded me, “Caleb is coming over.”

I looked up and saw Caleb walking towards me, surrounded by a crowd of people. The gossip behind me immediately disappeared. Caleb and I had grown up together. When we were five or six years old, our elders had already arranged our future marriage. Whenever someone bullied me as a child, he was always the first to stand up for me. When he made mistakes and got punished, I was always the first to plead for him. Before this, no one would have doubted that I was Caleb’s true love. But today, on my 22nd birthday, he brought another woman. Willow Bennett was thin and delicate, clinging to his side like a little white flower. Caleb smiled, whispering something intimately in her ear. She looked at me, her expression suddenly becoming flustered and at a loss. She took a few big steps forward. She bowed to me at a 90-degree angle.

It was exactly the same as in my previous life. Even the tear that was about to fall from her eyelashes was the same. In my previous life, it was this pitiful appearance of hers that deceived Caleb. I had grown up seeing arranged marriages for the sake of benefits in big families, and had never dared to hope for love. Her appearance made my heart sour, but not enough to lose my rationality. When Caleb wanted to break off our engagement, I didn’t cry or make a scene. Considering the years of friendship between our families, I only advised him a few words: “Willow is just an orphan, and she doesn’t have much work experience. Although you two…” “But if you marry her, your grandfather won’t agree, and it might cause trouble for her.” “Caleb, why don’t you keep her as a mistress for now, and in the future…” I spoke vaguely: “In the future, when you become the heir, won’t you be able to make your own decisions?” Just these few words, which were meant to help her avoid trouble, ended up bringing a world of trouble upon myself.

In my previous life, as soon as I saw Willow bow, I hurriedly helped her up. This time, I just watched her coldly. Seeing that no one was paying attention to her, she unhesitatingly knelt down and started kowtowing to me, banging her head again and again with loud thuds. My friend tugged at my sleeve. There were many guests today, all looking in this direction. I squeezed her hand. What’s the rush? “Willow!” Caleb’s face was already not looking good. In just this short moment, Willow’s forehead was already bleeding. Combined with her tears that were about to fall, she looked very pitiful. She looked back at Caleb, then at me, bit her lip, and continued kowtowing. I leisurely picked up the wine glass from the table beside me. Suddenly, I was a bit curious about how far she could take this act.

That’s right. Willow was acting. Her pitiful appearance was an act, and even her suicide jump in my previous life was an act. On the empty rooftop, I personally heard what she said. She was crying and begging a man at the time: “Brother, I’m an orphan. How else can I make Caleb care about me if I don’t use some tricks?” “Brother, help me again, use another trick!” “Brother, with my background, Caleb’s family won’t agree to me marrying him.” “But Caleb originally promised to marry me, I have to make him feel guilty towards me.” “Brother, just help me one more time!” “Just pretend to jump off the building, and Caleb will remember that he owes me for the rest of his life!” What an actress. She fooled Caleb, fooled me. Fooled all the media. I once asked Caleb why he cared so much about Willow. “I was born as the eldest son of the Foster family, everyone flatters me, praises me.” “They respect me, love me, all because of my family’s money and status.” “Even you, Aria, if I wasn’t the Foster family’s son, would you still marry me?” This question stumped me at the time. If he and I weren’t from families of equal status, we wouldn’t have grown up together, let alone be engaged or married. “Only Willow, only she truly loves me and is willing to sacrifice everything for me.” “Aria, how could I refuse such pure love?” I was almost drawn in by him. As the daughter of the Collins family, I had always been cautious in my words and actions. I had to consider my parents, consider the family. Indeed, I wouldn’t easily sacrifice everything for one person. We all overlooked another possibility. Whether Caleb was drugged or dying from poisoning, it was a good opportunity for Willow. From the beginning, Willow was determined to win his heart.

“Enough!” Caleb shouted. Silence fell all around. Willow trembled, looking up at me timidly. Her intention was very clear. She had ruined my engagement, made me the laughing stock of our circle, and felt guilty about it. If I didn’t speak up, she would never stop. Very well then, continue. I raised an eyebrow and continued sipping the red wine in my glass. Willow gritted her teeth, about to kowtow again. Suddenly, Caleb took two steps forward and swatted the wine glass out of my hand with a loud slap. “Aria, don’t go too far!”

“Aria, is this your magnanimity?” Caleb’s face was cold, shocking everyone around into silence. He pulled Willow up, gently touching her forehead with concern: “Aria, apologize.” “If you apologize now, I’ll pretend nothing happened.” I almost laughed out loud. It was my fault for being too naive back then. After uncovering Willow’s lies, I called Caleb that very day, telling him everything I had seen. I told him to be careful of Willow. The next day, Willow died. Really died. The media all said she committed suicide by jumping off a building because she never married Caleb. Caleb told me: “Luckily you warned me, otherwise I would have been fooled by her.” After that incident, for so many years, I thought he had forgotten about Willow. After all, he hated being deceived the most. It wasn’t until right before my death that I understood everything.

Aria, are you mute?” “Willow didn’t do anything, I’m the one who wants to break off the engagement.” “If you apologize to her, I won’t hold you accountable for the injury on her head.” I looked at Caleb, couldn’t help but curl my lips. It was my fault for being blind, always thinking he was smart. “Are the elders inside?” I turned to ask a passing waiter, walking gracefully towards the inside. Caleb followed closely behind me: “What are you going to do?” “Want to tattle?” I didn’t answer him. Until we reached the door, Caleb was still following closely behind me: “Aria, don’t think that just because you’re the Collins family’s daughter, you can be engaged to me.” “I’ve already promised to marry Willow, I can’t possibly marry you.” I turned back to look at Caleb. As he said, he was born into a position of privilege. His life had been too smooth sailing, causing him to not realize what a powerful wife meant for him. Perhaps this look of mine was too cold, Caleb was stunned for a moment. Caleb’s grandfather happened to look towards the door and asked, “What’s going on with you two, always together?” In front of all the guests, I stepped forward and bowed: “Grandfather, today is my birthday. I want to make a wish to you.” “Caleb and Willow are in love, I envy them.” “I don’t want to ruin their relationship.” “Grandfather, I want to break off the engagement with Caleb.” The room suddenly fell silent.

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After Saving the Obsessive CEO, I Embarked on My Journey Abroad With my studies completed, I secretly returned home, eager to surprise him. However, I was shocked to hear from a friend about the rumors spreading in my absence. They said I had died in a car accident. When I saw Xavier Cooper again, he was furiously kicking a girl in the stomach. His breathing was heavy, his voice filled with restrained fury. “Haven’t I told you all already? No one can ever replace her!” I stood at the entrance of the Cooper Estate, completely dumbfounded. I looked around, blinking in disbelief. Has it really been only a few years? How has he managed to move into an entire estate? I glanced at the driver again, confirming for the second time if this was really Xavier Cooper’s place. Only when he nodded did I gather the courage to step forward. As I approached the large house, I noticed two maids standing by the door. One of them was Fiona, someone I had known since childhood. I was just about to greet her with a smile when she looked at me without any surprise, her expression unchanged. Before I could speak, Fiona rolled her eyes and beckoned me closer. “Oh, seriously, aren’t you all tired of this game yet? Every day, another replacement shows up. Master Cooper has made it clear – he’d never marry anyone but Miss Lucy. Now that Miss Lucy is dead, all these lookalikes just keep coming in. It’s exhausting.” She gave me a quick glance, her eyes narrowing in surprise. Before I could ask her anything, she nudged the other maid beside her and whispered, “Look, this one really resembles her. Eighty or ninety percent at least. Maybe this time the Master will finally take an interest.” “Enough already,” the other maid muttered, disinterested, “it’s not for us to decide whether he likes her or not. Just take her inside.” Fiona, clearly bored, waved at me to follow her into the house. The large, dark door loomed in front of me, sending an ominous shiver down my spine. Sweat dampened my grip on the handle of my suitcase. Fiona turned back to me with a hint of annoyance in her voice. “What are you standing around for? Come on. Why on earth are you dragging a suitcase? Don’t tell me you think the Master would actually fall for you?” I ignored her taunts because my mind was racing. What on earth was going on? What happened in the years I’ve been away?

Fiona led me into a room that resembled a bedroom. But honestly, it was as big as a regular living room. It was dark, everything coated in a greyish mist like it hadn’t been touched in a while. I was just squinting to make out the details when the door slammed shut behind me. I jumped, rushing to the door, only to find it locked from the outside. I swallowed hard. The bad feeling in my gut was quickly turning into full-blown panic. Suddenly, the silence of the room was shattered by a heavy thud, followed by a woman’s desperate cries. “Mr. Cooper, please spare me! I was a fool to try and pretend to be Miss Lucy. I won’t do it again, I swear!” My eyes adjusted to the dark, and I could make out two shadows. A tall, broad-shouldered man stood over a woman who was kneeling at his feet, pleading desperately. But he didn’t give her time to beg. With one swift kick, he knocked her to the ground. I flinched as something flew past me. The woman clutched her face, but Xavier wasn’t finished. He kept kicking her, each strike landing with a thud. “You think you can impersonate Lucy?” he spat. “She’s a thousand, no, a million times better than any of you. And don’t think I don’t know what you’re after. I’ve warned you all before.” His kicks grew harder, fiercer. The woman’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. She stretched out her hand toward me, as if pleading for help. Paralyzed by fear, I sank to the floor, clasping my hands over my mouth to keep myself from screaming. Unfortunately, it didn’t matter. Xavier had already noticed me. He kicked the woman aside and began striding towards me. Tears welled up in my eyes as I scrambled towards the door. Xavier looked down at me with disdain. “Well? Who sent you this time? You’ve got a pretty weak stomach for a spy.” The word spy caught my attention, but I didn’t have time to think about it. Survival came first. My back hit the wall, my last escape route cut off. He walked over, humming a little tune like a cat playing with its prey. I pressed against the wall, desperately thinking of a way to save myself. Clearly, in the years I’ve been away, Xavier had completely lost it. He’s become some kind of sadistic lunatic. My brain, already slow under pressure, completely shut down. I stared blankly as he reached me, trapping me against the wall. I felt his gaze sweep over me, cold and heavy. He leaned in, and I instinctively shrank away, but before I could beg, his strong hands wrapped around my throat. His grip was tight, and within seconds I couldn’t breathe. I tried to twist my neck free, but his hold only grew stronger. He leaned in close, his breath icy against my ear. “Let’s see just how much you look like her, shall we?” I turned my head away, avoiding his gaze, but he laughed coldly. Grabbing my chin, he forced me to face him. Our eyes met. For a moment, everything was silent. His long eyelashes trembled, his lips pale and quivering. There was a strange glimmer in his dark eyes, almost as if he was about to cry. Then, after a moment, he shook his head, muttering to himself. “You look just like her. But…you can’t be her.” His eyes filled with a complicated emotion as he stared at me. He pressed his lips together, deep in thought. The grip around my throat loosened slightly. “I’ll give you one chance,” he said, his voice cold and detached. “Tell me who sent you, and I might just spare you. But don’t ever show your face here again.” I had no idea what he was talking about. Who sent me? No one sent me. I came here on my own. He released my throat, expecting me to speak. I coughed a few times and then blurted out that I truly didn’t know what he was talking about. Xavier’s anger flared once more. His grip tightened again, his eyes flashing with danger. “Speak. Who sent you? My patience is running out.” “I don’t know what you’re talking about!” I cried. “No one sent me. Are you deaf?” Tears began to roll down my face as I spoke. Xavier’s expression faltered for a moment, but he steeled himself, tightening his hold once again. Everything was growing dark. Just then, a thought flashed through my mind—his weakness. Did it still work? Using every ounce of strength I had left, I jabbed my thumb into the space between his second and third ribs. I remembered that spot well. He got that scar while protecting me from a human trafficker.

I jabbed as hard as I could. Xavier hissed in pain, his grip loosening for just a moment. I gasped for air, finally able to breathe again. Taking advantage of the moment, I struggled to get up, trying to make a break for the door. But before I could move far, his hand shot out and grabbed me by the wrist. My heart sank. This was it. I’d hurt him, and now he was going to kill me for real. I turned to face him, expecting to see pure rage on his face. But instead, his expression was one of pure confusion, as if he couldn’t quite understand what had just happened. He gingerly touched the small scar on his rib, his eyes wide with shock. “How… how do you know about this?” His voice cracked, his tone more frantic than ever. “Who told you about this? Do you… do you know Lucy?” Xavier’s gaze turned desperate, and he reached for me again, his voice trembling as he begged. “Tell me where she is! Please, I’ll give you anything. A million… ten million… no, a hundred million pounds! I’ll give you one hundred million, just tell me where Lucy is!” I stared at him, completely stunned. He was losing it. After hesitating for a moment, I forced myself to speak, my voice coming out more awkward than I’d hoped. “I am Lucy Ward, remember? It’s been a long time. Five years, actually. You’ve upgraded to an estate since then, huh? By the way, about that one hundred million pounds… is that offer still good?” Xavier froze, blinking at me as if he couldn’t process what I’d just said. He looked me up and down several times before slowly opening his mouth and reciting the words we had jokingly agreed upon all those years ago. “One… two… three… four… five.” I couldn’t help but respond, my voice weak. “And Cooper is… five foot five.” We had made that joke when we were younger, back when he really was just five foot five. Now, though, in just five years, he’d grown so tall I couldn’t even reach his shoulder. Xavier’s lips quivered, and then, with a sudden burst of movement, he slapped himself hard across the face. “I’m not dreaming, am I?” His voice trembled. “It’s really you. Lucy, you’re alive.” The look in his eyes sent a wave of unease through me. Surely he wouldn’t try to use the dream excuse to get out of paying the one hundred million, right? I quickly spoke up. “No, you’re definitely not dreaming, so don’t even think about backing out on the one hundred million you promised.” Xavier’s mouth twitched slightly, then he lifted my hand, resting his head against it. “One hundred million isn’t nearly enough. How about this—I’ll give you myself instead. I’m worth five billion.” I stared at him in disbelief. Five billion? Was it really that easy? Before I could fully process his words, he scooped me up effortlessly, lifting me into the air. I was stunned, staring at his face, which was now much too close to mine. His warm breath tickled my cheek, making my thoughts sluggish. I snapped back to reality and began to struggle. “What are you doing? Put me down right now!” Xavier smirked, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Lulu, since I’m offering myself to you, shouldn’t you give me something in return?” Without another word, he carried me toward the bed. Realizing his intentions, I started thrashing in his arms, but before I could stop him, he had already thrown me onto the mattress. He climbed on top of me, beginning to undo his shirt.

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In the open kitchen, Hector stood right behind me, trapping me against the counter. One hand slipped toward my apron, while the other casually grabbed a blueberry and pushed it toward my mouth. My face flushed. He smirked, his voice full of teasing. “Sis, you’ve got quite the bite.” From the dining area across the room, Mommy Jenny turned her head and looked at me, confused. “Jenny, are you cold? Why are you shivering?” I never thought that the person I had a crush on for three years would end up becoming my stepbrother. The day I moved into the Gayle family’s house with my mom, I stood by the front door, completely drenched, water dripping from my hair and clothes. Hector slowly strolled up with an empty bucket in his hand, his eyes scanning me up and down with a wicked smile. “Oops, my bad, slipped.” He paused for a second, his tone mocking. “But with how little you’re wearing, maybe you wanted to cool off anyway.” I looked down at my soaked white shirt, realizing you could faintly see my bra through the fabric. Panicked, I quickly covered myself with my arms. Hector’s grin widened, even more shameless. He definitely saw everything! The thought sent a wave of heat rushing to my face. “Hector!” Samuel rushed over. A jacket with a light scent of soap fell on my shoulders, and Samuel stood protectively in front of me. “Jenny, go change your clothes. I’ll deal with him in a bit.” I was ushered into the downstairs bathroom, my heart still racing. It was my first time seeing Hector since I’d developed feelings for him years ago. He was just as handsome as before, if not more. But he clearly wasn’t happy to see me. I guess I couldn’t blame him. After all, my mom did disrupt his family. Bam bam bam! A loud knock on the door made me jump back several steps, startled. “Hector?” I muttered nervously as his voice came from the other side. “Brought you some clothes.” My heart, which had just started to calm down, went wild again. I stared at myself in the mirror—drenched, disheveled—and didn’t dare open the door. But Hector wasn’t giving up. He started twisting the doorknob, only to find it locked. “Open the door, or I’ll kick it down.” I knew he meant it. When Hector made a threat, he always followed through. Scanning the room in a panic, I grabbed a towel and draped it over myself. By the time he reached the count of three, I rushed to the door and swung it open. Hector leaned casually against the doorframe, arms crossed, holding my clothes over his elbow. He was tall, and with a slight tilt of his head, he looked down at me. His sharp features stood out—perfect eyebrows, a strong nose with a small mole on its tip. His eyes flicked down to my chest, and his lips curled into a sneer. “What’s the point of covering up? Didn’t you want to show it off?” “It’s not like that,” I whispered defensively, the hurt in my voice bubbling to the surface. I never wanted to show off to anyone. “Jenny, stop pretending. Your mom’s a homewrecker, and you’re just a little temptress. She seduced my dad, and now you’re here trying to seduce my brother.” His brow furrowed in irritation. “Take off my brother’s jacket!” I froze. If I took it off, he’d see everything. But if I didn’t, he’d get mad. “Take it off,” he repeated. I clutched the towel tighter, my eyes shifting to the clothes he held. “Give me the dry clothes first.” Hector lifted the bundle of clothes slightly, just out of reach. I reached for them, but he jerked them back. “Want them? Beg me,” he said, tilting his head with a sly grin. “Just give them to me!” I lunged for the clothes. Hector quickly raised them higher. No matter how much I jumped, I couldn’t reach. How tall was he, exactly?! I tried again, putting even more effort into the jump, but just as I reached for them, I lost my balance, falling forward, and crashed right into Hector’s chest. “Tsk.” I heard him chuckle. “What, you trying to pull the same tricks as your mom? Think you can seduce me?” Hector’s voice dripped with sarcasm. Suddenly aware of my position, I realized my whole body was pressed up against him, my upper half especially. And worse, the towel I’d draped around myself was slipping, barely covering anything. I quickly pulled the towel back around me and turned away, hiding my face in shame. “What’s the matter? Not going to keep going?” Hector mocked, his voice cold. “You’ll never seduce my brother with tricks like that.” I wasn’t trying to seduce anyone. But no matter what I said now, Hector wouldn’t believe me. Tears welled up in my eyes, my heart aching with the weight of his misunderstanding. I knew Hector hated me, and hated my mom too. His mom had just passed away when we moved in, and my mom had taken her place. Of course he hated me. I understood that. But I couldn’t stand being so unfairly accused. “Hector!” Samuel’s voice cut through the tension. “What the hell are you doing? Standing outside a girl’s bathroom? What kind of manners are those?” “Why are you always on her side, bro?” “Jenny’s new here, you should be looking out for her. And by the way, she’s older than you, so show some respect. Hand her the clothes.” Hector shot me a glare but finally tossed the clothes to me, gritting his teeth. “Here you go, sis. Make sure you take care of them.” Samuel sighed, turning to me apologetically. “Sorry, Jenny. He’s always been a bit of a jerk. Go ahead and get changed.” I took the clothes, whispering a quiet “thank you” before closing the door. Once they were gone, I sat in the bathroom, clutching the dry clothes in my arms. Tears streamed down my face. I’d had a crush on Hector for three years, only to end up his step-sister and the target of his resentment.

After I changed into fresh clothes, Samuel mentioned that the whole family would be having dinner together later. Before moving in with the Gayles, I already knew Samuel. He was my teacher’s top student, and apparently, this connection mattered now. True to his responsible nature, he made sure to take care of me, just like my teacher had told him to. At the dinner table, my mom couldn’t keep her eyes off Mr. Gayle, as if she’d forgotten I even existed. I didn’t want to attract attention either, so I ate in silence. But of course, Mr. Gayle couldn’t resist bringing me up. “I hear Jenny’s in the same school as Samuel, what a small world,” he said, nodding approvingly at me. “If you need anything, just ask Samuel. He’s reliable.” “I will, Mr. Gayle,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. Mr. Gayle beamed, “Such a sweet girl.” No sooner had he said that than Hector made a scoffing noise, stabbing his chopsticks into his bowl. “What an act.” Mr. Gayle’s face darkened immediately. “Hector, show some respect.” Samuel gave him a warning look too. “Jenny just moved in. She’s a girl, and you should be looking after her.” I braced myself for Hector to argue, but instead, he said with a smirk, “Fine, I’ll make sure to take real good care of her from now on. Build some family bonding time.” He turned to me with a smile that made my skin crawl. Though he behaved the rest of dinner, I could feel the tension simmering underneath. Afterwards, I quickly excused myself and went back to my room. While I was unpacking, someone knocked at the door. I figured it was probably my mom, so I opened it without thinking. But when I looked up, I saw Hector standing there. I froze for a moment before instinctively trying to shut the door, but Hector wedged his foot between it and the frame. “You—” I started. Before I could finish, he forced his way inside, slamming the door shut behind him. Bang. He shut the door behind him, crossing his arms as he casually leaned against it. “What… what are you doing?” I backed away instinctively, putting as much distance between us as possible. Hector’s eyes roamed the room before they landed back on me. “Do you like my brother?” What? Where did that come from? I quickly shook my head. “Really?” Hector tilted his head. “Isn’t that why you moved in here? To get close to him?” “I didn’t,” I denied, but he wasn’t listening. He stepped closer, looking down at me. His height made it impossible to escape his gaze. “Then why’d you move in? Your mom said you weren’t too keen on the idea.” My stomach churned. There was no way I could tell him the truth — that the only reason I moved in was because I found out he’d come back home. I stayed silent, and Hector took my lack of response as an admission. His eyes narrowed. “So it’s true. Little temptress, trying to seduce my brother, huh?” I clenched my fists, trying to keep my voice steady. “You’re wrong. Now please leave.” Hector scowled, leaning in even closer. “Stop playing games with me, Jenny. Don’t you dare try to seduce him.” I bit my lip, helpless, unable to explain myself. Before Hector could say anything else, there was another knock at the door. It was Samuel’s voice on the other side. “Jenny, it’s me, Samuel. Do you have a minute?” Just as I was about to answer, Hector’s hand shot out, covering my mouth. My eyes widened in shock as I tried to pull his hand away, but his grip was firm. He leaned in, pressing me against the door, and whispered, “Shh. Don’t make a sound.” My heart raced as panic set in. Hector was so close, his warm breath against my cheek. I struggled, trying to push him away, but it only made him grin. “Jenny?” Samuel called again, sounding concerned. I tried to squirm free, but Hector held me even tighter. And then, to my utter disbelief, he kissed me. My brain short-circuited. Hector was kissing me. On the other side of the door, Samuel was waiting for a response while I was trapped, locked in a kiss with his brother. The realization made my blood rush to my face. I pushed at Hector’s chest, but he only deepened the kiss, his free hand pinning mine above my head. “Jenny, are you okay?” Samuel’s voice was more urgent now. Desperate, I mustered all my strength and kicked Hector’s leg as hard as I could. “Ow, Jenny, damn!” Hector hissed, finally letting me go, rubbing his leg with a pained expression. “Are you really that eager to open the door for him?” he teased, but his eyes darkened. “I wonder what he’d think if he saw you like this…” “What are you talking about?” I asked, horrified. He leaned in closer, his voice a low growl. “He doesn’t know you like him, does he? What do you think he’d do if he found out you’ve been in here, making out with his little brother?” Fear gripped me as I realized what he was saying. I stared up at him, wide-eyed. “You wouldn’t.” Hector didn’t respond. Instead, he slowly reached behind me, his hand hovering near the doorknob. I panicked, my voice trembling. “Please don’t open the door. Please.” His hand paused, and he glanced down at me, amused. “Begging now, huh? What happened to that bravado earlier?” His smirk faded as he pressed me closer, the heat of his body overwhelming me. If Samuel saw us like this… Hector’s fingers brushed the doorknob. “No, don’t!” I whispered desperately, trying to push him away. I could feel his grin against my ear. “Tell me what I want to hear, and maybe I won’t.” My heart pounded as I tried to think of something to say that would stop this. If Samuel opened the door, I’d be ruined — and Hector knew it. But before I could respond, Hector turned the handle. “Wait, Hector—” I started, but the door cracked open. My mind went blank. This was it. I was done for. In one swift move, Hector spun me around and pushed me forward. I stumbled out of the room, nearly tripping over my feet, just managing to catch myself in the hallway. The door clicked shut behind me, and I quickly spun around, my heart racing. Hector was nowhere to be seen. “Jenny?” Samuel asked, stepping closer. “What’s going on? Your lips… they’re so red.” I blinked in confusion, then instinctively raised a hand to my mouth. My lips were burning — probably from the kiss I hadn’t wanted to acknowledge. “I’m fine,” I blurted, trying to change the subject. “Uh, what did you need, Samuel?” He gave me a concerned look, but didn’t press the matter. “It’s not much. I just wanted to apologize for earlier. Hector can be a real jerk, but he doesn’t mean any harm. Don’t let him get to you, okay?” I nodded, feeling guilty, knowing that Hector was the least of my worries right now. Samuel handed me a glass of milk and gave me a soft smile. “If he ever bothers you again, just let me know.” After Samuel left, I opened the door to my room, and there was Hector, standing there, arms crossed, smirking like he had won something. “You…!” I stammered, too angry to form a coherent thought. He laughed softly. “You sure are obedient when it comes to him.” Then, with a mocking smile, he took the glass of milk from my hand and drank half of it in one gulp. “You…” Before I could react, he grabbed my chin, tilting my face upward, and without warning, he poured the remaining milk into my mouth. I choked, sputtering as the cold milk dripped down my chin. Hector, looking smug, wiped my face with the back of his hand as if he’d just done me a favor. Satisfied, he walked out of the room, leaving me standing there in shock. It took me a long time to calm down after that. I had a terrible feeling I’d just made things worse with him. Later that night, I lay in bed, thinking it over. My mom finally came to see me, and I expected her to offer some comfort after everything that had happened. But instead, she told me I needed to be more patient, that I should stop provoking the Gayle brothers, especially Hector. “Look, honey, I don’t have much of a choice here. Your Mr. Gayle hasn’t even agreed to marry me yet…” I bit my lip and nodded. “I understand.”

After a sleepless night, I woke up late the next morning. By the time I got downstairs, everyone was already having breakfast. Samuel wasn’t there, probably out for work, but Mr. Gayle greeted me warmly, while Mommy Jenny gave me a look of disapproval. “Jenny, sit down and have some breakfast,” Mr. Gayle said cheerfully. I hadn’t even started eating when Hector piped up from across the table, “Hey, Sis. I heard your strawberry jam is amazing. I’d love to try it.” Mommy Jenny beamed. “Oh, yes! Jenny is really good at making jam. Why don’t you go whip up a batch for Hector?” I shot Hector a wary glance. The mischievous glint in his eyes told me he was up to no good. But I was stuck. Reluctantly, I nodded and headed to the kitchen. It wasn’t difficult to make, but it took time, and at least it gave me a break from sitting at the table with them. I was halfway through the process when Hector strolled into the kitchen. He claimed he was there to “help,” but I knew better. He just wanted to bother me. Pulling out a container of blueberries from the fridge, he smirked. “I heard you like these. I bought them just for you.” Every time he called me sis, it felt like a trap. He picked out a blueberry and held it up to my lips. “Go on, taste it.” I instinctively took a step back, wary of his intentions. Hector leaned in, his voice dropping lower. “What’s wrong? You don’t trust me?” Then, in one swift motion, he pressed himself up behind me, trapping me against the counter. “You…” I started, but he grabbed my hand, pulling me closer. “Show me how you do it, Sis. Maybe I’ll cook for my dad someday.” He was too close. Way too close. The kitchen was open, and the dining table was just across from us. My mom must have heard the commotion because she chuckled from the other room. “Jenny, why don’t you show Hector how it’s done? It’s good to see siblings getting along so well!” I nodded quickly, scooting forward to put some space between us, not wanting to make a scene. I tried to tell him to step aside. “You can stand over there and watch.” “I like it better from behind,” he whispered, stepping even closer until I was practically leaning over the counter. My whole body tensed. This was getting way too out of hand. Suddenly, Hector’s arm slipped around my waist, pulling me flush against him. “Careful, Sis. You don’t want to get hurt, do you?” he said in a low voice, his breath brushing against my ear. I jumped, startled, and the spoon I was using to stir the jam fell into the pot with a clatter. “Hector, you—” I began, trying to push him away, but his hands were already sliding lower, resting on my waist. He didn’t seem to care that we were in plain view of the dining room, where my mom and Mr. Gayle were still having breakfast. “Sis, you better hurry. If the jam burns, it’ll be ruined,” Hector teased, his voice low, as if this was all some kind of joke to him. My hands shook as I grabbed the spoon again, trying to focus on stirring the pot. But with Hector standing so close, practically glued to me, it was impossible to think straight. My free hand reached out to the counter, trying to find something to ground me as I felt Hector’s other hand wander dangerously close to the edge of my apron. “Hector, stop,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “This isn’t funny.” But he only chuckled softly. “You’re right. It’s not funny at all. It’s just fun.” I grabbed his wrist, trying to stop him from moving any closer, but Hector only smirked, easily slipping his fingers from my grasp. “Relax, Sis. You’re doing great,” he said, completely ignoring my protests. My pulse quickened. I could feel the heat from the jam, the heat from his body pressing into mine. I was trapped between the stove and Hector, unable to move. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see my mom and Mr. Gayle still chatting, oblivious to what was happening in the kitchen. “Hector, please,” I pleaded softly, hoping no one would notice the panic in my voice. But Hector only smiled, grabbing a blueberry from the nearby bowl and holding it up to my mouth again. “Here, eat this.” Before I could say anything, he pushed the berry between my lips. As soon as I bit down, the juice dribbled down my chin, and Hector’s grin widened. “See? Isn’t it sweet?” I swallowed hard, the flavor of the blueberry barely registering over the pounding in my chest. He lowered his voice, so quiet only I could hear. “You’re good at biting, aren’t you?” A shiver ran down my spine, and I froze, unable to process what was happening. Just then, I heard my mom call from the dining room. “Jenny, are you cold? Why are you shivering like that?

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The day I got a job offer, Cindy, my cousin’s wife, announced she was pregnant. Just as the whole family was celebrating, Cindy suddenly said: “Now that Sierra has found a job, and I’m pregnant, it’s going to be inconvenient to live together once the baby arrives. Maybe Sierra should move out?” The room fell silent. Seeing that no one agreed, Cindy backed down a little: “If you insist on staying, fine, but you’ll need to pay $10,000 a month for living expenses!” But the house we’re living in now is mine, and the money we use comes from me. Who should really be paying whom? 0 The day I received my offer letter, Uncle Mark made a huge feast, bringing out his best wine. Even Jason, my cousin, who was usually too busy with work, rushed home before dinner. After a few rounds of drinks, Cindy, who had been quietly eating, suddenly spoke. “I’m pregnant.” The room went silent for a few seconds before it burst into laughter and excitement. Jason’s face turned red with joy as he stared at Cindy’s belly. “Really? Cindy, why didn’t you tell me?” Cindy smiled shyly. “I wanted to surprise you.” No one was happier than Uncle Mark and Aunt Linda. Jason and Cindy had been married for three years without having any children. Finally, they had something to brag about to the relatives. I was genuinely happy for Cindy and thought to myself, I’ll definitely give my future niece or nephew a big gift. As the joyful atmosphere grew, Cindy suddenly put down her chopsticks. “There’s one more thing I want to mention,” she said. Aunt Linda, her eyes still full of joy, asked, “What is it?” “I think Sierra should move out,” Cindy said with a cold expression. “She’s already found a job, and now that I’m pregnant, it’s going to be inconvenient after the baby is born.” The room instantly became silent, and Uncle Mark and Aunt Linda’s faces grew awkward. Cindy, though usually quiet, had never spoken to me with such a cold tone. I had always thought she was nice, so I responded kindly, “There shouldn’t be any inconvenience. I’m not a guy, and when the baby arrives, I can even help take care of it.” “When the baby comes, there won’t be enough room for everyone.” “How could that be?” I said, trying to be considerate. “We can clean up the attic floor and make room for your little family. There will be more than enough space.” This estate house was large, with several rooms on each floor. We had been living comfortably on the second floor for years. Cindy shot me an inexplicable glare. Aunt Linda chimed in to reassure her, “Cindy, don’t worry, we’ll make sure neither you nor the baby is uncomfortable.” Cindy wasn’t finished. “When I have the baby, I’ll be recovering and won’t be able to move around or dress properly. It’s just not right to have an outsider in the house.” Suddenly, her expression softened again. “Sierra, I’m not trying to force you out, but you’ve been living here for so many years. Isn’t it time you moved on?” Seeing my face darken, Cindy added, “Your parents passed away early. When you were in college and grad school, my in-laws covered all your living expenses. “Nowadays, young women are all about independence. It’s time you learned some self-respect and started living on your own.” I looked around at Uncle Mark and Aunt Linda. Uncle Mark, who had been silent for a long time, finally slammed his hand on the table, yelling at Cindy: “That’s enough! You’re getting out of line. Jason, take your wife back to your room!” Jason quickly stepped in to defend her. “Dad, Cindy’s pregnant! Why are you yelling at her? Besides, she’s not wrong.” Uncle Mark lost it. He slammed his glass down and shouted at Jason, “Then you can get out too!” 0

Cindy wasn’t wrong. My parents had passed away when I was young. My dad, Steve, was a company owner, and my mom, Mary, was an architect. Seven years ago, they were in a car accident and both became comatose. That year, I was about to take my college entrance exams, juggling between school and the hospital. It quickly became too much, and I started thinking about hiring a nurse. When Uncle Mark found out, he came to me and said, “Sierra, you don’t need to hire a nurse. Aunt Linda and I can take care of them.” I wasn’t sure about it. Uncle Mark had always been kind to me, but taking care of one person in a coma was already hard, let alone two. “It’s no trouble,” he said, tears welling in his eyes. “They’re my sister and brother-in-law, after all. No one will care for them better than family.” Plus, Mrs. Hudson, who shared a hospital room with my parents, told me some nurses don’t take care of patients properly. Bedsores, neglect — it wasn’t uncommon. After thinking it over, I agreed and paid Uncle Mark and Aunt Linda triple the normal rate to take care of my parents. They did a great job. Every time I visited, there was no smell or mess on them. They looked after my parents for over a year before both passed away. I went to college in another city. Some people suggested I sell the estate house. But I couldn’t. This house had been my parents’ marital home, every tree and room designed by my mother. I wanted someone to take care of the house while I was away. When Uncle Mark heard this, he volunteered. And so, they moved in — and stayed for years. When I started grad school, Uncle Mark and Aunt Linda urged me to move back home, saying they could help look after me. After today’s confrontation with Cindy, I finally understood why she had been distant with me all along. After Jason and Cindy left, I asked Uncle Mark, “Does Cindy not know about the house?” Aunt Linda smiled nervously. “That’s my fault. I told Cindy and her family that the house was ours.” “You know Jason’s family insisted they wouldn’t marry him off unless he had a house. But you know we don’t have money. So, we had to say the house was ours.” I could understand that. Uncle Mark had never been responsible. My parents had arranged several jobs for him, but he never stuck with any of them, always relying on my family’s support to start his own. But in recent years, Uncle Mark and Aunt Linda had been good to me. I gently said: “You can only hide the truth for so long. It’s better to explain this to Cindy sooner rather than later. If she really needs a house, I have another one I could let them live in.” Uncle Mark replied, “Sierra, you’ve done more than enough for us. Don’t worry. I would never take advantage of you.” Hearing that, tears welled up in my eyes. “Uncle Mark, we’re family. Don’t say that.” Without Uncle Mark, I would have had no home. 0

With Uncle Mark’s assurance, I didn’t think much more about the matter. For the next few days, I saw Cindy around the house. She was either giving me cold looks or making passive-aggressive comments while watching TV. “Some people really have no shame, living in someone else’s house like it’s their own. You can’t even kick them out,” she would say, clearly directed at me. “Certain people think they’re some kind of pampered princess, like everyone adores them. But honestly, people can’t stand her.” I kept quiet, hoping Uncle Mark and Aunt Linda would handle it. I had just started my new job and was swamped with work. I often stayed late at the office, only returning home long after everyone had gone to bed. One night, I came home earlier than usual, but it was already dark. The house was silent as everyone had gone to sleep. I quietly made my way upstairs, wanting nothing more than to collapse on my bed. But the moment I lay down, I heard a sharp scream: “Ouch!” I jumped up, and the room lights came on. There, lying in my bed, was Cindy, dressed in her nightgown, staring at me in shock. Uncle Mark and Aunt Linda rushed in. “What happened?” Uncle Mark asked. I tried to stay calm. “Cindy, why are you in my bed?” Cindy’s face turned cold. “This is my house. I can sleep wherever I want.” I frowned, confused and irritated. Aunt Linda pulled me out of the room, trying to smooth things over. “Sierra, I forgot to tell you. Cindy moved into your room.” “When?” “This afternoon. She said she wanted to enjoy the sunlight through the large window.” My room, which my mother had designed especially for me, had a huge floor-to-ceiling window. When the sun rose, the room would be filled with light. In the winter, it was the warmest and coziest spot in the house. I was upset. They had moved her into my room without even asking me. Aunt Linda noticed my displeasure and softened her tone even further. “Sierra, I’m sorry. We didn’t ask for your permission, but Cindy’s pregnant, and her morning sickness is really bad. She said the sunlight makes her feel better.” I had friends who were pregnant. I knew pregnancy could make women act strangely because of hormonal changes. Uncle Mark came out looking frustrated. “What is going on here? Everyone gets pregnant, but no one behaves like this. She can’t just take over your room! Cindy needs to move out of there.” I quickly intervened. “It’s fine, Uncle Mark.” Uncle Mark had always been protective of me, no matter what happened. I didn’t want to cause tension between him and Aunt Linda, so I said: “Really, it’s okay. I’ll just sleep in another room. Cindy’s pregnant, and she needs the space more.” Uncle Mark hesitated, looking conflicted. “But this is unfair to you.” I smiled. “We’re family. It’s not a big deal. Besides, where did you move my things?” Aunt Linda replied, “We put everything in the room on the far west side.” The west room was the smallest in the house. It didn’t get much sunlight and had just one small window. It was originally meant for the housekeeper. Moving from the best room to the worst one didn’t sit well with me, but seeing Uncle Mark’s troubled expression made me let it go. 0

The day I signed my first big contract at work, I stopped by the house in the afternoon to grab some documents. I thought about asking Aunt Linda if she’d like to celebrate with me over dinner. As I approached their bedroom door, I overheard Aunt Linda speaking to Uncle Mark. “What are we going to do? Cindy says if we don’t get Sierra out of the house soon, she’ll never let us see our grandson.” “We just need to wait a little longer,” Uncle Mark replied. “Wait for what? Cindy hasn’t even let Jason sleep in the bed these last few days!” Aunt Linda was panicking. “And what about the medicine? We’ve been giving it to Sierra for over three years, and she’s still perfectly healthy. When is she going to die?” The hairs on my neck stood up. What medicine? Aunt Linda wanted me dead. It suddenly made sense. Since moving back home, my health had deteriorated. I used to be so resilient, but now a simple breeze left me feeling feverish. I’d been suffering from nosebleeds and losing hair for no apparent reason. “How can you not see it working?” Uncle Mark revealed another horrifying secret. “How do you think her parents died? We drugged them to death.” A chill ran down my spine. No wonder my parents’ conditions had suddenly worsened when they were previously stable. Aunt Linda sighed. “Should we increase the dosage?” Uncle Mark thought for a moment before nodding. “That might work. Her parents lasted a year before they died. It’s been three years for Sierra, so no one will suspect anything if she goes now.” “We should’ve just had someone run her over years ago. Instead, we’ve dragged this out, and now she’s almost spent all her parents’ inheritance.” “What are you worried about? It’s all going to be ours eventually.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. My mind went blank. Uncle Mark’s kindness had all been an act. They’d been poisoning me this entire time. And my parents’ deaths—were they truly accidents? I stumbled downstairs in a daze, passing through the living room, where Cindy was watching TV. “Sierra,” she called out in an unusually friendly tone. “Come over here for a moment.” I was still in shock, but I managed to respond, “Do you need something, Cindy?” “I’ve been thinking,” she said, her voice sickly sweet. “It’s not right to kick you out now that you’ve just started working.” What’s going on? Before I could figure out her intentions, she continued, “We’re not really family, after all. Jason is already supporting the entire household. Since you’ve found a job, you should help out. I think it’s only fair for you to start paying $10,000 a month for living expenses. You’d have to pay even more if you were renting somewhere else.” So, that’s her game. I smiled coldly. “That’s perfectly fair, Cindy. But I guess you didn’t know this estate is actually mine.” 0

Cindy froze, staring at me in disbelief. “What are you talking about? That’s impossible!” “It’s true,” I replied. “Not just the house, but all the expenses around here—food, utilities, everything—have been paid by me.” Before I moved back in, Uncle Mark had been taking care of the estate and would request maintenance money every month. It was always something: the lawn mower had broken, or the walls needed repainting. As a student, I didn’t know much about these things, so I gave him whatever he asked for. Since I returned, I’d taken on all the household expenses. Thinking back, I realized I needed to check the finances more closely. “You’re lying!” Cindy’s voice was shrill as Uncle Mark and Aunt Linda entered the room, looking surprised to see me. Aunt Linda was the first to speak. “Sierra, why are you home so early today?” Before I could answer, Cindy pointed at me and said, “Mom, she’s claiming this house belongs to her. Is that true?” Both Uncle Mark and Aunt Linda’s faces darkened. Aunt Linda quickly tried to cover it up. “No, no, Cindy, she’s just joking.” She shot me a warning glance, but I ignored her. Instead, I pulled the house deed from my bag and tossed it onto the coffee table.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “294612”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #浪漫Romance #励志Inspiring