Author: Momo Chan

1 The ninety-ninth time I fished my cat out of the dumpster, I sat on the curb downstairs and stared into space for half an hour. It was only when the streetlights flickered on, casting long, hollow shadows across the pavement, that I finally dragged my feet back up to the apartment. The door was deadbolted from the inside. Mochi was shivering violently in my arms, his white fur soaked and smelling of rotten garbage. Numbly, I knocked on the heavy wooden door. Through the gap, my wife’s cold, detached voice drifted out. “His fur got into Dustin’s bowl today. As punishment, he’s locked out for the week.” Dustin was a college student we used to sponsor together. Now, he was her live-in boy toy. He claimed to have severe germophobia and hated cats, which was all Valerie needed to throw Mochi out ninety-eight times before this. I squeezed the shivering cat closer to my chest. Staring at the blank face of the locked door, a sudden wave of exhaustion washed over me. I didn’t want to go in anymore. Mochi trembled against me. I stood on the rainy street for what felt like an eternity before an Uber driver finally agreed to take a guy with a soaking, smelly cat. The vet was just about to lock up when I pushed the door open. He paused, looking at me with a mixture of pity and frustration. “How many times has it been this month, Gavin?” I kept my head down, gently running my thumb over Mochi’s ears. “Sixteen.” Mochi nudged my palm with his wet pink nose. He was always so sweet. Meeting his trusting eyes, I pictured him trapped inside that foul, suffocating dumpster, and a lump formed in my throat. Sixteen times in thirty days. For more than half of the month, my wife had treated my cat like actual trash. Last time, she said Dustin was studying for finals, and Mochi’s quiet meowing disrupted his focus. The time before that, she claimed Mochi shed a single hair on Dustin’s sweater, which warranted immediate banishment. She had a million excuses. But looking back, they all boiled down to one simple truth: Dustin didn’t like him. And if Dustin didn’t like something, it had no right to exist in our home. It wasn’t just the cat. It was our wedding photos, our shared keepsakes, our matching coffee mugs. All Dustin had to do was wrinkle his nose, and Valerie would throw them into the trash the very next morning. Three months ago, every physical trace of our ten-year relationship was wiped clean from the apartment. Yet, Dustin wasn’t satisfied. He targeted Mochi next. The first time she threw Mochi out, I lost my mind. I screamed at her until my throat bled, while she just watched me with flat, uncaring eyes. When I finally ran out of breath, she spoke in a maddeningly calm voice. “Dustin is young, and his family is states away. Since he’s staying with us, I’m responsible for him. I won’t let him feel uncomfortable in his own space.” “It’s just a cat, Gavin. If Dustin doesn’t like it, it goes.” We had rescued Mochi together from a rainy alleyway years ago. Valerie used to cuddle him, laughing as she called herself his mommy and me his daddy. Now, she was throwing him away for some boy. Rage blinded me, and the words tumbled out before I could stop them. “What does taking care of him even mean to you? Do you have to take care of him in our bed for it to count?” She scoffed, her eyes hardening into ice. “Can you stop being hysterical? You look pathetic acting like this.” The raw disgust in her gaze had frozen me in place, burning me with a deep, humiliating shame. Looking back at how I pleaded and screamed, she was right. I did look pathetic. I decided right then that I was done being hysterical. The vet took Mochi back for an exam and returned half an hour later. “No serious physical injuries this time,” he said, though his expression remained heavy. He sighed softly. “Look, Gavin… if your wife hates him this much, you need to find him a new home. A cat can’t take this kind of constant stress.” I stared at the floor for a long moment, then nodded slowly. “Thank you, Doc. But don’t worry. It won’t happen again. Ever.” I wasn’t going back to that house. Neither was Mochi. I walked to a nearby budget hotel and booked a room. Just as the transaction cleared, my phone buzzed. It was a text from Valerie. Make sure you come back early tomorrow morning. Dustin wants those artisan bagels from Sullivan’s for breakfast. And don’t bring that cat back. It ruins Dustin’s mood. She didn’t ask where I was, or if I was okay walking alone in the dark. She only cared about her darling boy’s breakfast. I stared at the screen until my fingers grew stiff, then slowly hit delete. Valerie showed up at my office a week later. As I walked out at five, she was waiting by the entrance, holding a bouquet of white lilies. “Come home,” she said, giving me a soft, practiced smile. “I miss your honey-glazed ribs.” I looked at her, my heart entirely flat. It wasn’t her who loved those ribs. It was Dustin. She had come up with the most pathetic excuse just to recruit me back as their unpaid housekeeper. She shoved the flowers into my arms as if nothing had happened, then reached for my hand. “Let’s go. Dustin has a sensitive stomach, and eating late messes up his digestion.” I hadn’t agreed to go, but she didn’t care. She assumed that by throwing me a bone, I would eagerly jump at the chance to make up. I looked down at the lilies. The petals were already brown and withered at the edges. I tossed the bouquet into the trash can next to us. “That apartment isn’t my home anymore, Valerie. I’m not going back.” I pointed to the bin. “And by the way, I hate lilies. Dustin is the one who likes them.” Valerie’s hand froze in midair. The warm, accommodating facade vanished instantly. “You used to beg me to pick you up from work,” she said, her voice dropping into a sharp, defensive register. “Now I’m here, and I even bought you flowers. What more do you want from me, Gavin?” I had asked her to pick me up once, years ago. Back then, some nasty rumors were going around my office about me and my boss, and I wanted her to show up just to put them to rest. But when I begged her, she had dismissed me without a second thought. “Maybe next time. I’m too busy right now.” It was only later that I found out what she was so busy with. While I was struggling with anxiety and panic attacks, Valerie was busy spending her evenings building a massive custom Lego portrait with Dustin. They spent a whole week assembling a picture of the two of them leaning against each other, framed it, and hung it in our living room. Dustin had smirked at me when it was finished. “Gavin, look what Valerie and I made. Isn’t it cute? Your old wedding photo was so outdated anyway. This actually makes the living room feel alive.” Whether he was deliberately mocking me didn’t matter. I didn’t give him the satisfaction of an answer. The room had gone dead silent. Valerie had shot me an annoyed look before turning to smile at Dustin. “Exactly. Your taste is so much better than Gavin’s. From now on, you get to decorate our home.” Our home. Who did she mean by “our”? Her and me, or her and Dustin? I couldn’t hold it in anymore. My voice shook as I confronted her. “I was drowning in rumors at work, begging you to help me clear my name, and you said you were too busy. Did you think about me once while you were playing with legos with him?” Valerie blinked, then scoffed, waving her hand dismissively. “But you’re fine now, aren’t you? Stop being so dramatic.” In that exact second, something vital inside me shattered. That was the day the silence began. Now, weeks later, here she was, treating this pick-up like a grand act of charity. The gesture I had once craved had finally arrived, but I had already survived the worst of the storm on my own. I didn’t need her anymore. I stepped around her, but she blocked my path. “Are you still throwing a tantrum over that cat?” she snapped. “Look, Dustin is being the bigger person here. He’s already forgiven you and that stupid cat.” “I promise, as long as the cat doesn’t annoy him, I won’t throw it out again.” She stared at me, waiting for me to cave, apologize, and follow her home like a good little dog. I looked at her, completely detached. “Valerie, Mochi and I are never coming back. I want a divorce.” She stared at me in disbelief. “Are you insane? You’re ruining our marriage over a worthless cat?” She blamed the divorce on the cat. I didn’t bother correcting her; arguing was pointless. The real cancer in our marriage was Dustin, but she would always find a way to justify his behavior and deny her own betrayal. “I’ll have my lawyer send over the paperwork,” I said, my voice flat. “Just sign it.” I didn’t yell. I was entirely calm. Valerie used to complain that I was too loud, too emotional, too crazy. But now that I was standing before her in absolute silence, her face paled. “You’re getting more delusional by the day,” she sneered, resorting to her usual defense mechanism. “Honestly, if Dustin didn’t miss your cooking, do you think I’d waste my time coming here?” It was always the same. Every disagreement ended with her comparing me to Dustin. I wasn’t as smart as him, wasn’t as handsome, wasn’t as understanding. In the past, those insults cut deep. I would scream and beg for her to respect me. Now, I simply nodded. “Then hire him a private chef.” I knew she wasn’t lying about Dustin missing my cooking. My entire culinary repertoire had been carefully curated to suit his delicate palate. Back then, I foolishly thought I was just helping Valerie care for a student we sponsored. What an idiot I had been. They had spent an entire year laughing at my expense while I served them. During the week I stayed at the hotel, Dustin had been posting constantly on Instagram. I watched their daily life through his stories; they looked like a blissful, cozy young couple. If Dustin hadn’t complained about wanting my ribs, Valerie probably wouldn’t have remembered my existence for months. “Let’s see how long you can keep up this little act,” Valerie sneered before walking away. That night, I had my lawyer draft the divorce agreement and sent a copy to her phone. A red exclamation mark popped up immediately. She had blocked me. I didn’t even flinch. I deleted her contact, opened Instagram, and sent the document to Dustin instead. Here’s the divorce agreement. Tell her to sign it. And congratulations. You finally got what you wanted. A minute later, a voice message came back from Dustin, dripping with malice. “Divorce? Oh, Gavin, don’t make me laugh. How can you divorce her when your marriage license is fake?” My heart seized. I stared at the message, unable to comprehend the words. Then, he sent a photo. It was a picture of Valerie, Dustin, and a little girl. The girl had Valerie’s exact eyes and nose. Dustin’s next text was smug. Valerie and I were promised to each other since we were kids. We’ve been together since I was nineteen. If your family wasn’t wealthy, and if Valerie didn’t need your mother’s connections in the industry, she wouldn’t have spared you a single glance. Technically, Gavin, you’re the side piece. My vision blurred, and the world seemed to spin on its axis. The marriage license was fake. Her falling in love with me at first sight was a lie. Everything was a lie. Suddenly, so many things made sense. I had wanted kids, but Valerie always made excuses, saying she wanted to enjoy our time as a couple first. She didn’t want to wait; she just didn’t want my child. Dustin’s messages kept rolling in. Why do you think Valerie lets me do whatever I want? She feels guilty about what we had to do, so she lets me use you as my personal punching bag to make up for it. The words swam before my eyes. Mochi nestled against my arm, watching me with big, silent eyes. Clutching his warm little body, I forced myself to breathe. I pulled up my contacts and sent a message to a friend who worked at the county clerk’s office. The reply came early the next morning. Hey Gavin… I checked the database. There’s no record of a marriage license for you and Valerie. Legally speaking, you’re single… I closed my eyes. A dark, bitter laugh escaped my lips. It was actually easier this way. Leaving her would require no paperwork at all. I went to the office, handed in my resignation, and packed my bags. I planned to take Mochi and clear my head at my parents’ house out of state. I had only stayed in this city because Valerie’s career was rooted here. Now that she was gone, there was nothing keeping me. The day before my departure, I took Mochi to the pet groomer for a bath. As I was walking out of the clinic, carrying his carrier, I ran straight into them. Valerie, Dustin, and the little girl. They were walking hand-in-hand. Valerie was looking down at the child, a tender smile on her face that I had never seen before. As they laughed, Valerie looked up and spotted me. She instantly dropped the child’s hand. Stepping forward, she instinctively shielded Dustin and the girl behind her. “This is… Dustin’s niece,” she said, her voice tight with panic. “Don’t you dare start spinning some sick story in your head.” She didn’t realize Dustin had already spilled everything. Her eyes darted around nervously, though she tried to maintain her composure. I used to think I would love this woman until my dying day. Now, looking at her made my stomach turn. “Whatever you do is none of my business,” I said coldly. Valerie wasn’t used to this level of indifference from me. She marched over and grabbed my wrist tightly. “What is wrong with you? Why are you acting like this?” “Let go of me,” I said, twisting my arm to break her grip. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Dustin holding the little girl, glaring at me with raw hatred. He whispered something into her ear, and the girl suddenly ran forward, grabbing the handle of my cat carrier. “I want the kitty! Let me play with the kitty!” Before I could pull it away, Valerie snatched the carrier right out of my hand. “Rosie likes him. Let her play with him for a second.” Rosie unzipped the top and dragged Mochi out by his tail. Mochi let out a sharp, agonized screech, but the child wouldn’t let go. “Let him go!” I yelled, lunging forward. Valerie blocked me, her face darkening. “Don’t be so petty. He’s just a stray. I’ve thrown him in the dumpster a hundred times and he’s still fine. Stop making a scene over nothing.” She talked about abusing my pet as if it were a joke. Rage boiled in my veins. Before I could push past her, Rosie suddenly burst into tears. “Ow! The mean kitty bit me!” Valerie panicked. She shoved me back and kicked Mochi with terrifying force. The small white cat flew through the air, crashing hard against the brick wall. He hit the brick and fell, instantly still. Blood began to seep from his nose and mouth, staining the pavement red. I fell to my knees, scooping his limp, fragile body into my arms. My hands were immediately covered in warm, sticky blood. Valerie froze, staring at the bloody heap. “I… I didn’t mean to do that,” she stammered, stepping back. “But he… he bit Rosie.” Dustin cradled the crying girl, but a smug, cruel smile played on his lips. “Gavin, I know you hate me,” Dustin said, raising his voice so the bystanders could hear. “But there’s no need to take it out on a child. A feral cat like that deserves to be put down anyway.” My vision went red. Clutching Mochi to my chest with one arm, I stepped forward and slammed my fist directly into Dustin’s face. Mochi had been my companion for five years. He was family. And they had just killed him. I raised my fist to strike him again. Valerie shoved me back with all her strength. “Have you lost your mind? If your stupid cat hadn’t bitten a child, I wouldn’t have had to kick it! This is your fault for not training it!” They were the ones who stole him, hurt him, and killed him, yet they turned it around on me. I stared at Valerie, my gaze cold enough to kill. “You killed him. I’m going to make you regret this for the rest of your life.” Valerie let out a mocking laugh. “And what are you going to do about it?” she sneered. “It’s a cat. I’ll buy you a better one. Stop crying about it.” Dustin wiped the blood from his lip, glaring. “You’re not leaving until you apologize to my daughter.” They stood side-by-side, blocking my path. I looked at them one last time, pulled out my phone, and texted my lawyer: Go ahead with the plan. I refused to apologize, and the standoff dragged on. Valerie checked her watch, growing increasingly impatient. “Hurry up and apologize. Dustin and I have dinner reservations, and we don’t have all day to waste on you.” I didn’t say a word. I just turned my head toward the street. Valerie shoved my shoulder. “I said, apologize!” Before she could finish her threat, a police cruiser pulled up to the curb. Two officers stepped out and walked straight toward her.

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1 After I was diagnosed with severe depression, I gave up every trace of possessiveness I had toward my CEO wife. I stopped asking about her schedule. When Bianca Vale came home smelling of men’s cologne, I could still smile and help her take off her coat. Even when I got into a car accident during a business trip and the doctor told me to contact a family member to sign for treatment, I only said, “I don’t have any family.” The nurse looked at my information and hesitated. “Aren’t you Ms. Vale’s husband? She happens to be downstairs inspecting the hospital today. Should I tell her?” I smiled and waved it off. “No need.” But half an hour later, Bianca still pushed open the door of my ward. Her brows were tightly furrowed, her tone full of blame. “Why didn’t you call me after a car accident?” I flipped through the documents on my phone. “Minor injury. I didn’t want to waste Ms. Vale’s time.” The polite, distant form of address made Bianca freeze. She had just opened her mouth when her assistant whispered outside the door. “Ms. Vale is really generous with that new intern. The boy said he wanted to see the ocean, so she pushed off meetings worth hundreds of millions and rented a luxury yacht to spend the whole day with him.” Bianca looked at me instinctively, probably expecting me to scream and interrogate her like before. But I didn’t even lift my head. I only quietly looked at the divorce agreement draft my lawyer had just sent. Bianca stood by the hospital bed, and the explanation she had prepared got stuck in her throat. She coughed, trying to break the deathly silence in the room. “Noah just graduated. His project won an award, and he’s under a lot of pressure.” “I took the whole team out for a group-building day to relax. Don’t lock yourself at home all day and overthink.” I locked my phone screen and looked up at her, my face calm. “I understand.” Then I pointed toward the door. “Noah Carter is outside, isn’t he? Don’t keep him waiting.” Bianca followed my gaze. In the shadows of the corridor, Noah stood wearing a women’s custom couture trench coat. That coat had been my birthday gift to Bianca last month, personally customized by me. Noah was peering into the ward. When he realized I had noticed him, he quickly shrank back as if startled, but provocation hid in his eyes. A violent spasm suddenly twisted through my stomach. It was a physical reaction caused by long-term severe depression, accompanied by uncontrollable nausea. I covered my mouth and let out a suppressed dry heave. In the past, I would have clutched Bianca’s sleeve with a pale face, begging her to stay, begging her to be with me, begging her to tell me I was the one she loved most. Now, I only pulled out a tissue and wiped my mouth. “I’d like to rest alone. Ms. Vale, please do as you wish.” Bianca’s face turned completely dark when she heard “Ms. Vale.” She thought my nausea and indifference were carefully planned cold violence and protest. “Isaac, are you not even bothering to pretend anymore?” “As my husband, can’t you be a little more generous? Who are you showing that corpse face to all day?” She took a set of keys from her designer bag and threw them coldly onto my bedside table. “These are the keys to that penthouse studio you always wanted. The developer just finished the property transfer.” “Take them, and stop throwing tantrums. I still have more than a dozen executives waiting for me to go back to a meeting.” She didn’t even wait for me to answer. She turned and left, her high heels clicking rapidly against the floor. The moment the ward door closed, I heard her speak gently to Noah in the hallway. “He’s just spoiled by me. His temper is awful. Ignore him. Let’s go.” A nurse pushed the dressing cart in and saw the shiny keyring on my bedside table. “Sir, this keychain is so cute. Can you share the link?” Kindly, she picked it up to wipe it clean. I looked at the keychain. A childish crystal strawberry and pinyin letters were engraved on it. A few days ago, Bianca’s secretary had posted a photo in her feed. In the photo, Bianca’s back was visible as she accompanied Noah to a craft shop to make couple keychains. She had taken a cheap trinket used to coax another boy and handed it to me as compensation for the three years of dreams I had given up for her. “Throw it away.” I pointed to the yellow medical waste bin under the bed. The nurse paused, then obediently tossed it in. I took out my phone and called my lawyer, Mr. Wright. “Mr. Wright, is the divorce agreement ready?” “I don’t want any marital assets under her name. I’ll leave with nothing.” “My only condition is that it be handled as quickly as possible.” Mr. Wright sighed on the other end. “Mr. Shaw, Ms. Vale’s assets are enormous. If you take nothing, life may be very hard for you later.” I turned to look at the gloomy sky outside the window. In my bag was a one-way train ticket to a small town at the foot of the Ailao Mountains in Yunnan. “No. Leaving her is the only way I’ll live better.” Suddenly, hurried footsteps in high heels sounded outside the door. Bianca, who had just left, had somehow come back. She shoved the ward door open. Her chest rose and fell violently, and a shocking anger burned in her eyes. She strode to my bedside and snatched my phone. Her fingers clenched it so hard the veins on the back of her hand stood out. “Which slut are you calling? What do you mean, leaving her and living better?” Her eyes were red as she stared at my phone screen, trying to find evidence of my cheating. But there was nothing there. I calmly took the phone back from her hand. “Bianca, you misheard. I was telling the housekeeper to settle her wages and stop coming to clean.” Bianca studied me suspiciously, trying to find even the smallest trace of a lie. But I was too quiet. So quiet there was no flaw. Noah jogged in after her, panting, his face pale and sickly. He held a cup of warm water and carefully handed it to me. “Isaac, don’t be angry with Ms. Vale.” “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have said I wanted to see the ocean during the team outing. Ms. Vale only took everyone because she thought I was working too hard.” I looked at the women’s trench coat on Noah’s body and suddenly smiled. I reached out and took the cup. “Thank you for the water. I’m not angry, and I don’t blame you.” Noah’s words got stuck in his throat. The grievances he had prepared instantly became useless. He looked at me in astonishment, as if he had punched soft cotton and forgotten how to play the victim. Seeing me so obedient, Bianca’s anger eased a little. She adjusted her collar and said to me in a charitable tone, “It’s good that you can think clearly. I’ll come home early tonight and have dinner with you.” Then she took Noah and left the hospital. At dusk, I was discharged alone and returned to the vast, cold villa. I didn’t turn on the lights. I walked upstairs in the dark. I pulled my suitcase from the corner and neatly packed the old sketchbooks my grandmother had left me, along with my charcoal pencils. At the bottom of the wardrobe, I found the thick stack of kraft paper envelopes. Inside were all the severe depression diagnoses I had received from different hospitals over the past three years. Every time I woke in the middle of the night with my chest tight and my heart racing, wanting to jump from the balcony, I would call Bianca in tears. But every time, she was either in a meeting or staying late with Noah. “Isaac, can you stop pretending to be sick? Are you the most delicate person in the world?” Her scolding seemed to echo in my ears. Looking at those diagnoses, I suddenly felt that my three years of persistence had been one enormous joke. I placed all the medical reports, half-used medication bottles, and the expensive watches she had given me over the past five years neatly on the most visible coffee table in the living room. These things were my final severance. The clock on the wall pointed to ten at night. The front door beeped, followed by Bianca’s tipsy laughter. She pushed the door open, with a slightly drunk Noah following behind. Noah held a pot of flowers in his arms. It was my lifeline. A pot of endangered cymbidium. I had spent three whole years carefully adjusting the soil acidity every day just to keep it alive. I had planned to use it as the graduation piece for my return to the illustration world. Bianca leaned against the entryway shoe cabinet and pointed at the plant in Noah’s arms. “Noah’s office was just renovated. There’s a lot of formaldehyde.” “You keep this useless weed at home all day anyway, so I told Noah to take it for a few days and purify the air.” Noah tightened his arms around the pot and gave me a provoking smile. “Isaac, I’m sorry. I just really like this plant. I’ll take good care of it.” As he spoke, he pretended to trip over the threshold. Noah cried out and fell forward. The flowerpot flew from his arms. With a sharp crash, the cymbidium I had cared for so carefully for three years, along with its custom purple clay pot, smashed against the hard marble floor. The pot shattered into countless pieces. The tender roots were crushed in the fertilized soil. Porcelain shards mixed with black dirt splattered across my white slippers. I looked at the cymbidium broken into three sections, and my breathing stopped for half a second. Noah clutched his ankle and apologized with a pained expression. “Isaac, I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean it. I just lost my balance.” Bianca rushed over and helped Noah sit on the sofa. She anxiously checked his ankle. After confirming it was only slightly swollen, she let out a heavy breath of relief. Then she turned to me, eyes full of disgust, and shouted, “Isaac Shaw, what is that look?” “It’s just a stupid weed. Is it worth staring at Noah like you want to eat him alive?” “Tomorrow I’ll have my secretary buy you a greenhouse full of rare plants at auction. Now apologize to Noah immediately.” In the past, I would have rushed up like a madman, slapped Noah several times, then held the shattered roots and sobbed. But now, my heartbeat was steady. I turned and went into the kitchen, then came back with a broom and trash bag. I crouched down and swept the broken porcelain and soil into the trash as if cleaning up ordinary garbage. The dead cymbidium went in too, mixed with dirt. My indifferent attitude made Bianca deeply uncomfortable. She walked up to me and snatched the broom from my hand. “Isaac, what’s wrong with you? Did that car accident knock your brain loose?” “All day long, you look miserable and act like a victim. Who in this family owes you anything?” Noah peeked from the sofa and timidly tugged Bianca’s sleeve. “Ms. Vale, don’t blame Isaac. Is his depression acting up again?” “I saw online that depression can spread negative energy. It’s kind of scary to watch.” Bianca sneered and didn’t even look at me. “He’s just idle and spoiled. No job, sitting at home pretending to be sick for sympathy.” “Noah, let’s go. Ignore him. I’ll take you back to your apartment.” The front door slammed shut, shaking the chandelier in the living room. I looked down at the date on my phone. September fifteenth. Our fifth wedding anniversary. On the dining table was a full meal I had forced myself to make that afternoon despite the pain in my body. By now, it was completely cold. I walked into the bedroom, opened the hidden compartment behind the mirror, and poured out a few white pills. I didn’t even use warm water. I swallowed them dry, letting the bitterness spread through my throat. Then I took out my phone and booked a same-city courier pickup. I handed three large packed boxes to the courier and wrote the delivery address as a pickup point in a small border town in Yunnan. After that, I lay on the sofa and waited quietly for dawn. At two in the morning, thunder suddenly cracked outside, followed by a downpour. My phone lit up in the dark. It was a screenshot Noah had posted to his private feed, visible only to me. In the picture, a hand wearing a women’s Patek Philippe watch rested gently on Noah’s forehead. Caption: Luckily, at my hardest moment, Ms. Vale stayed with me all night. I’m so content. I looked at the photo and screenshotted it without any emotional fluctuation. Then I packaged the screenshot and emailed it to Mr. Wright. Evidence of infidelity sent. Please hurry the divorce agreement. A few minutes later, Mr. Wright replied. Received. Tomorrow morning at nine, Maan Coffee beside the civil registry. Sign in person. Cold morning wind slipped through the gap in the window. I opened my eyes, pulled my small suitcase, and left the villa. That golden cage that had trapped me for five years looked gloomy and old in the morning fog. I didn’t call a car. I took the earliest bus to the civil registry. Inside the café, Mr. Wright was already waiting with the printed divorce agreement. “Mr. Shaw, have you really thought this through?” “If you wait until we perfect the infidelity evidence, you can at least receive half the assets.” “Leaving with nothing means you won’t receive a cent for your five years in the Vale family.” I took the pen and signed Isaac Shaw neatly on the signature line. “No need.” “Mr. Wright, dirty money can’t cure my illness.” There were still five hours before my afternoon green train to Yunnan departed. I wanted to go to the city botanical garden to say goodbye to my youth. The greenhouse was full of rare flowers and plants. The air smelled of soil and green leaves. I sat on a wooden bench, closed my eyes, and breathed in the long-lost scent of nature. Suddenly, a tremendous force grabbed my wrist. I opened my eyes and met Bianca’s irritated gaze. Noah stood beside her, dressed neatly and holding a box of freshly made plant specimens. “Isaac! You’re following people all the way here now?” “Do you have to use such disgusting methods to check up on me?” Bianca’s accusation attracted the attention of nearby visitors. I lowered my eyes to my wrist in her grip. Because of long-term severe depression, there were many pale pink scars from self-harm on my wrist. Now, with her gripping it so roughly, dull pain rose from the old wounds. Without a change in expression, I slowly pried her hand away inch by inch. “Ms. Vale, I’m just passing by.” “If you don’t believe me, I can’t explain.” Noah immediately stepped forward and took Bianca’s hand, deliberately making them look intimate. “Isaac, don’t misunderstand. Ms. Vale just accompanied me to buy raw materials for specimens today.” “If you’re jealous, we can give this specimen to you.” Bianca sneered, her eyes full of contempt as she looked at me. “Give it to him for what? He’ll just leave it at home to mold.” “Isaac, look at yourself now. Dry, withered, lifeless, like a rotten piece of wood.” “Besides me, who in this world would want a lunatic like you?” Her words were poisoned steel needles, every sentence stabbing into my deepest pain. If this had been half a year earlier, hearing that would have made me dry heave on the spot, perhaps even flood me with violent thoughts of ending my life. But now, I found my heart rate unusually steady. There wasn’t even a trace of anger. I looked at the woman who had once promised to protect my dreams. “You’re right,” I said softly. Bianca’s words died in her throat. The smugness on her face turned to shock. She clearly hadn’t expected that response. I smoothed my clothes, pulled my little suitcase, walked around them, and headed straight for the garden entrance. Afternoon sunlight fell warmly over my shoulders. I took a deep breath and felt the chains that had burdened me for five years finally dissolve into nothing. Bianca stood where she was, watching my back disappear without a single glance back. For some reason, a panic she had never felt before rose in her chest. “Bianca, Isaac seems really angry…” Noah muttered beside her. Bianca stared at my back and snorted through clenched teeth. “Ignore him. He’s just throwing a tantrum. In less than three days, he’ll kneel and beg me to let him come home.” Three days passed in a flash. When Bianca returned home, the villa was empty. Unease rose in her heart. She took out her phone and called me. But only a cold automated voice came through the receiver. “Sorry, the number you dialed does not exist. Please check and try again.” Half of Bianca’s face turned pale instantly.

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1 While we were eating takeout, Owen Hale suddenly picked up a shrimp and expertly removed the vein. I smiled and reached out. “Don’t you usually say that’s too much trouble? Why so careful today?” Without looking up, he moved past my hand and placed the peeled shrimp neatly into the food container. “Because Lina’s back.” My hand froze in midair. Right. Only when he was with Lina Ward did he suddenly learn these “details.” Removing veins from shrimp, peeling grapes, picking seeds from watermelon. Always twisting open a bottle cap before handing her water. With me, he only ever said one thing. “Skye’s rough. She doesn’t care about stuff like that.” But for some reason, looking at that shrimp today, I suddenly cared. “If she’s back, then we should end this too.” Calmly, I removed the engagement ring from my finger. Who doesn’t like silk and satin? This love, rough as burlap, should have been thrown away long ago. Owen’s hands didn’t stop. He finished peeling the last shrimp and said casually, “What nonsense are you saying now?” I opened my mouth, but before I could make a sound, he stood and cut me off. “She should be arriving soon. I’m going to wait for her at the airport.” He placed an insulated food container on the table, one I had never seen before, and put all the shrimp and pastries inside. “She’s been on a plane for more than ten hours. She must be hungry. Let her eat something first.” “She loves this place’s braised shrimp.” I looked at the container and said nothing. I suddenly remembered one winter, when I had such bad cramps that I asked Owen to bring me brown sugar water. He brought it in a plastic bottle, already completely cold. “A thermos? Sorry, I didn’t know we had one at home.” “I didn’t think it would cool that fast.” So it wasn’t that he hadn’t thought of it. He simply never thought that carefully for me. “I already booked dinner tonight,” Owen said, picking up his keys, speaking quickly. “Go to the restaurant early and wait for us.” “Remember to tell them again that Lina hates the smell of sesame oil. None of the dishes can have any.” “Also no onion or celery. Absolutely none.” “I’m not going,” I said calmly. “You two can eat. I’m going home.” Owen finally stopped. “What is wrong with you?” He frowned. “Lina is your friend, and you’re my partner. Is it appropriate not to welcome her back?” I tugged the corner of my mouth into a self-mocking smile. He didn’t actually want to bring me. He just thought that if I didn’t go, Lina might feel awkward and overthink. What a thoughtful man. But I no longer wanted to be the fool who helped decorate his thoughtfulness. “There’s nothing inappropriate about it. We haven’t seen each other in years. We’re not that close anymore.” “And we’ve broken up, so I’m not your partner either.” Owen’s face sank completely. “Skye Hart, I’m tired. I don’t have the energy to guess your thoughts every second.” “If you want to make a scene, suit yourself.” He slammed the door and didn’t look back. Every fight between us basically ended this way. He never wondered why I was upset. As long as he gave me the cold shoulder for a while, I would come back to him on my own. But not this time. After cleaning up the takeout trash, I went home alone. Owen didn’t come back. Two hours later, he appeared in Lina’s social media photos. Thank you, Designer Owen, for the welcome dinner. The gift is beautiful. I love it so much~ Someone quickly commented: “Isn’t that the bracelet you liked a month ago that sold out? Owen made you an identical one?” “That’s basically a custom piece. That’s so thoughtful.” “Lina, when are you going to lock down such a good man?” More teasing comments followed. Lina soon replied: “Don’t talk nonsense. He’s already taken. Don’t make my friend misunderstand!” I unconsciously zoomed in on the photo, staring at that delicate bracelet. It was as if it had wrapped around my heart and tightened. No wonder his fingers had been covered in cuts lately. No wonder he had been locking himself in the study day and night and refusing to let me near. So he had been busy with this. He was a jewelry designer. As long as Lina wanted something, he could give it to her. But when choosing my engagement ring, he walked into a store and said only one sentence. “Which one sells best? That one.” The wrong size, the wrong style, slipped carelessly onto my finger. Fortunately, I had finally thrown it in the trash. “Didn’t you once say you wanted to marry me?” I opened my phone and sent a wedding ring design draft to an unfamiliar number. “Then make me an identical ring.” “When it’s done, I’ll say yes.” The reply came quickly and simply. Okay. I let out a long breath and put down my phone. Three hours later, I received a message from one of Owen’s childhood friends. “Skye, Owen drank too much tonight because he was happy. He’s sleeping at my place.” “I know you don’t mind this stuff, but I figured I’d tell you anyway.” I looked down and didn’t reply. Owen never reported small things like this to me, and he never cared whether I would worry. The time I remembered most clearly was when his phone went dead and I saw news of a major car accident downstairs from his company. I panicked so badly I almost fainted. In the end, I found him at a bar. “Owen, you’re really not going to tell Skye?” “No need.” Drunk, he waved a hand. “She’s careless, like one of the guys. She doesn’t care about this stuff.” “Oh, then Skye is really easy. You’re lucky, man.” Actually, back then, I had wondered. Was I easy? Or did he simply not care about me? Now, I finally had my answer. I closed my eyes and let the sour tears spill over. I didn’t sleep all night. The next morning, as soon as I opened the door, someone threw herself into my arms. “Skye, I’m back!” “Owen said you weren’t feeling well yesterday. How are you today?” The girl in front of me smiled like a flower. The perfume on her body smelled exactly like the scent Owen had been using recently. I forced a smile and said I was fine. Then I listened as she chattered on. “I heard you two are getting engaged next week. If there’s anything you need help with, just tell me.” “All right, stop fussing. Does your head still hurt?” Owen pulled her to sit down. “I’ll make you some honey water for the hangover.” He walked into the kitchen and found a jar of honey with practiced ease. But the last time I had asked him to get it for me, he said he had no idea where it was. “No need,” I said, suddenly exhausted. “We’ve already broken up. Don’t trouble yourself.” In the kitchen, the sound of the spoon stirring suddenly stopped. Lina shot to her feet too. “Skye, don’t say something stupid.” She hovered around me, eyes full of concern, trying to persuade me not to be impulsive. But Owen soon came out and took her hand, leading her to the balcony. “If you’re really upset and anxious, don’t force a smile. Let her calm down on her own.” I heard his low voice. “Huh? How did you tell?” “Because when you get anxious, you unconsciously pinch the middle finger of your right hand.” Such a tiny movement, and Owen could see it clearly. Yet when I cried in front of him until my face was soaked, he never wiped away even one tear. “Her? She’s rough. She’ll forget after a few days. No need to coax her.” “Don’t talk about me first. Why did Skye suddenly break up with you? Did you do something wrong to her?” Lina huffed. “If you won’t tell me, I’ll ask her myself.” She ran out of the balcony straight toward the bedroom. But the moment she opened the door, she nearly ran into the broken-glass wind chime hanging there. “Why would you hang something this sharp by the door?” Owen hurriedly pulled Lina into his arms and checked whether her face had been scratched. I watched them in silence. That wind chime was Lina’s handmade project from years ago. I had been cut by the glass countless times. My face, my arms, all had bled because of it. But Owen had never agreed to take it down. He said he wanted to keep it as a memory. “It’s been so long. Why keep this broken thing?” Lina complained sweetly. Owen immediately took it down and threw it into the trash. And my heart felt as if it had been tossed in along with it. “Skye, don’t overthink.” Lina held my hand and comforted me. “In my heart, you’ve always been like a towering tree, unlike me, just a spoiled little blade of grass that needs someone to shelter her.” She smiled. “Don’t you remember? Your story with Owen began because you saved him back then.” It was an unintentional remark. But Owen and I both froze. Yes. Back then. The first time I met him, it was in a filthy alley full of dirty rainwater. He was thin and weak, cornered and beaten bloody. I stepped forward, chased all the bullies away, and dragged him to the hospital. “Little stick, how are you so weak? Even I’m stronger than you.” At that time, I was already famous as a tomboy. But I had no choice. To protect my mother from my father’s abuse, I had to grow up fast. I had to learn to speak with my fists and protect myself. I remembered that night. Owen lay in the hospital bed, his eyes shining as he looked at me. He followed me for six full years. It wasn’t until we got into the same college that I agreed to be with him. After we got together, sometimes I felt different from those delicate, pretty women. Too rough. Too hard. And Owen told me again and again that in his heart, I was the light that pulled him out of the abyss. No matter what I was like, I was the best. Until Lina, that timid transfer student, joined us. Everything changed. Because I was independent and strong and lived roughly, I didn’t need care. Lina was fragile, so she needed careful protection and thoughtful attention. He gave Lina everything he decided I “didn’t care about.” But he never asked whether I truly didn’t care. “Even the tallest tree needs sunlight and rain.” I smiled in relief and let go of Lina’s hand. “But he can’t give me that.” “So we were never meant to keep walking together.” I returned to the bedroom, took my suitcase, and pushed open the front door. “Skye Hart!” Owen finally chased after me and snapped, “What exactly are you making a scene about? Lina comes back, and you want to break up with me?” “How do you think that makes her feel?” A dull pain spread through my heart. “Then why don’t you ask how I feel?” Even now, the thing you care about most is still her mood? “So what is it because of?” he demanded again and again. “Because of that shrimp? Because I went to pick her up?” He suddenly grabbed my hand and sneered. “Or because of that ring you didn’t like?” I looked at him in a daze. So you knew. “None of those,” I shook my head. “It’s because I don’t like you anymore.” Evening wind swept through the corridor. Everything fell so quiet it made the heart panic. “How is that possible?” After a long while, I heard a scoff above my head. “We’re getting engaged next week. If you don’t marry me, who else can you marry?” “With that personality of yours.” My heart hurt so badly it felt like it might stop. But I didn’t answer. I kept dragging my suitcase forward. With a bang, Owen slammed the door behind me. Three days later, I went to my company and submitted my resignation. “Reason for resignation… not adapting to the climate here?” My manager looked at me in surprise. “But you’ve done very well all these years.” A bitter smile appeared on my lips. That was because I had been compromising for him. The climate of this city didn’t suit me. In spring, the damp, rainy weather always gave me rashes. They hurt and itched and could never be cured. But Owen always pretended not to see. He told me to endure it, and it would pass. Yet back in college, with Lina, even a tiny wound made him remind her not to touch water. At meals, he carefully picked the chilies out of her food. I had deceived myself for so many years. Now, it was time to wake up. “All right. I respect your decision.” My manager didn’t say more and quickly signed. When I returned to the hotel, I found two boxes outside my door. One was the wedding ring that man had made for me according to my design. The other was a new engagement ring from Owen. It cost twice as much as the one I had thrown away. “Skye Hart, are you satisfied now?” Owen’s call came quickly. “I’m helping Lina choose her bridesmaid dress. Next Wednesday, we’ll get our marriage license first, then hold the engagement party.” He spoke casually. In the background, I could faintly hear Lina laughing. I thought of my own engagement dress. Online search, filter by best sellers, place order, delivered. I smiled, said nothing, and hung up. Then I sent a message to another person. “I received the ring. Next Wednesday, see you at the courthouse.” No one stays in place forever. Now, I only wanted to move forward. But I didn’t expect that on Tuesday night, I would suddenly discover that something was missing from my suitcase. I hurried back to Owen’s apartment. The moment I pushed open the door, I saw the birthday party he had prepared for Lina. He was sitting at the dining table, focused on cracking crab for her. “Lina, when you get a boyfriend someday, you must find someone as attentive as Owen.” “Well, depends on who he’s with. I’ve never seen Owen crack crab for Skye.” “Of course not. With a tomboy like her, Owen’s thoughtfulness has nowhere to go.” Lina’s face flushed as she scolded them for talking nonsense. Owen smiled softly. Then he turned and met my eyes. The hall instantly fell silent. Without looking sideways, I walked straight into the bedroom and opened the drawer. Empty. My face changed instantly. “Owen Hale, where is the necklace I kept in here?” At the door, Owen stared at my calm face and suddenly felt an inexplicable irritation. “I gave it to Lina’s dog to play with,” he said lightly. “Her dog was in a bad mood, and Lina said it likes shiny things, so I found a necklace for it.” “Anyway, you never wear delicate things like that—” Before he finished, the little dog happened to jump onto a tall cabinet with the necklace in its mouth. “Give it back to me!” My whole body trembled as I shouted. The little dog tilted its head unconsciously and opened its mouth. I didn’t catch it in time. I watched as the jade necklace fell. Then shattered into pieces across the floor. “Skye, I’m sorry.” Lina hurried to her feet, eyes red. “Owen said it was some fake thing he bought casually. I thought it wasn’t worth much…” I dropped to my knees and burst into tears. It was my mother’s keepsake. The last thing she left me. “It’s just an object. You’ve never cared much about looks or accessories anyway. If it broke, it broke.” Seeing me sobbing, Owen’s eyes flashed with a trace of pity. “I’ll buy you a new one later.” “Today is Lina’s birthday. Don’t ruin everyone’s mood.” I knelt there in a daze. I heard my heart, like that jade, shatter piece by piece. I slowly picked up the fragments without speaking, until both my hands were soaked in blood. “You—” Owen panicked and reached for me. I avoided him. “I really don’t care,” I looked up and smiled at him. “From now on, I won’t care about anything.” Including you. Owen’s heart suddenly sank. He wanted to chase after me, but Lina’s crying stopped him. Forget it. After getting the license tomorrow, he would explain and apologize to me. Owen thought that with my personality, I probably didn’t even know how to spell sensitive. By tomorrow, I would likely forget. Besides, I had been looking forward to marrying him for so long. He forced down the unease in his chest and had pleasant dreams all night. The next morning, after waking, he changed clothes early. But he deliberately planned to arrive half an hour late. “Owen, aren’t you afraid Skye will really stand you up and cut ties?” “How could that happen? Look at Skye’s feed. She’s already at the courthouse and even posted a photo.” Owen paused, then smiled with certainty and opened my post. “Wait. Why did she post a marriage certificate? Owen hasn’t even gone yet.” “She… who did she marry?” The group chat exploded. The next second, the wedding photo popped up clearly in Owen’s eyes.

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The first night I stayed at my best friend’s apartment, someone entered my room. I struggled desperately, but the person pinned both my wrists above my head. “It’s been a month. Didn’t you miss me?” The man’s voice was low, clean, and dangerously attractive. Before I could speak, he kissed me hard. “Nora, I’m back.” Just then, my best friend Paige’s voice came from outside the door. The man above me froze. His voice dropped to a whisper. “Who are you?” Trembling, I answered, “I’m Noelle Price.” “Damn it.” He cursed under his breath and immediately got off me. In the dark, he took out his phone and sent a message. The footsteps outside the door abruptly stopped. Soon, Paige turned and left. A moment later, the sound of the front door closing came from outside. Only then did I let out a breath. After confirming Paige had left, I turned on the bedside lamp. The room flooded with light. Reid Langford’s sharply defined, handsome face appeared in front of me. He was Paige’s boyfriend. Paige had told me he was away on a business trip and wouldn’t be coming back anytime soon. But for some reason, he had returned tonight. My clothes were disheveled, my face burning red. I pulled the blanket around myself and shrank into the corner of the bed defensively. Seeing the panic on my face, regret flashed across Reid’s brows. “I’m sorry. You were sleeping in Paige’s room and wearing her pajamas. I mistook you for her.” “…” I was still shaken and couldn’t speak for a long time. After calming down, I whispered, “I know. It was a misunderstanding.” Reid and Paige had been dating for almost a year. He was somewhat cold and quiet. During the few meals we had shared, we had exchanged no more than three sentences. If I hadn’t been staying at Paige’s place tonight, this ridiculous mistake never would have happened. “Thank you.” Hearing me say that, Reid’s tense expression finally eased. Then, as if remembering something, he turned and opened the bedroom door. “I’ll go downstairs first. I told her I was stopped by security at the gate. If she doesn’t see me, it’ll cause trouble.” Ten minutes later, Paige came upstairs. But she was alone. “Nora, were you asleep in the room just now?” “Yeah. I was tired, so I went to bed early. Did you call me when you came back?” “I did. But Reid suddenly came looking for me, so I went downstairs.” Hearing Reid’s name made me feel slightly uncomfortable. “Why didn’t he come up?” “I told him you were staying here these few days. It’s late, and he thought it’d be awkward for a grown man to come upstairs, so he left.” Seeing that everything seemed normal with Paige, my heart settled a little. That night, after Paige fell asleep, I tossed and turned, unable to rest. My mind kept flashing back to those intimate moments with Reid. His hot breath against my neck and chest. His burning palm roaming over my waist. His firm, strong body pressed close to mine. The harder I tried to suppress those images, the more they spread through me like a virus, invading every nerve. Paige had said Reid treated her well, but in that aspect, he was a little cold. But just now, he had been anything but cold. He had been like a starving wolf. The next evening, Paige invited Reid over, and the three of us went to a nearby restaurant. After ordering, Paige left for the restroom. Only Reid and I remained in the private room. We had never spoken much to begin with. He was quiet, and I was introverted. After what happened last night, being alone with him made the atmosphere even more awkward. After a while of silence, I reached for the kettle, wanting to pour myself water just to have something to do. But Reid reached out at the same time. The moment his cool fingertips brushed mine, I jerked my hand back as if shocked by electricity. Noticing my reaction, Reid froze too. The tips of his ears reddened slightly. A moment later, he still picked up the kettle and poured me a cup of water. “Are you still bothered by what happened last night?” Reid handed me the glass. I looked at his long, well-defined fingers, and my face heated. “No… not anymore. It was an accident. We both know that.” I lowered my eyes and accepted the glass, trying to look calm. But my mind uncontrollably connected those beautiful hands to everything they had done. The heat of his palm traveling down my waist. Every inch bringing a burning, tingling sensation. I hadn’t really dated much. Aside from a three-month college relationship that never went beyond hugging and kissing, I had never had intimate contact with a man. What Reid did to me had been a first. “Don’t worry. I’ll pretend nothing happened. You didn’t do it on purpose, and I won’t tell Paige and affect your relationship.” Paige was my best friend. I had never thought of anything happening between me and her boyfriend. Reid hadn’t caused me any real harm. Letting it pass was best for everyone. “Thank you.” Soon, Paige returned. Our conversation ended there. Near the end of the meal, Paige answered a call and said there was an urgent issue at work, so she needed to go back and work overtime. She asked Reid to drive me home. Reid agreed. Because Reid had been on a business trip these past few days, Paige had asked me to stay with her. Now that Reid was back and would often go to her place, it was naturally inappropriate for me to continue staying there. My rented apartment was in an old residential complex. Cars couldn’t enter, and there weren’t even streetlights nearby. Reid was worried it would be unsafe for me to walk alone, so he politely escorted me downstairs. When we reached the entrance, the security guard who knew me came over. “Oh, your boyfriend’s walking you home today? Handsome guy. You’ve got good taste, young lady.” My face flushed instantly. I hurriedly waved my hands. “No, sir, you’re mistaken. He’s not my boyfriend. Don’t say that.” “Still shy? What’s there to be embarrassed about? A boyfriend this handsome isn’t something to hide.” The guard didn’t believe me and teased me further. I glanced awkwardly at Reid, who had remained silent, and wanted to crawl into a hole. “He’s my best friend’s boyfriend. He just dropped me off on the way.” Seeing how flustered I was, the guard finally realized his mistake. He apologized and walked away. “Um… thank you for bringing me home. I’ll go upstairs now. You should head back too.” “Mm.” After getting home, I collapsed onto the sofa, feeling as if all the air had leaked out of me. That security guard really thought too highly of me. Someone ordinary and forgettable like me could never have a boyfriend like Reid. He was six foot two, broad-shouldered and narrow-waisted. His face looked sculpted, so handsome even celebrities couldn’t compare. Maybe because of my personality since childhood, I had always been instinctively afraid of men with intense, striking beauty. But Paige was different. She was a bright, bold beauty. In both appearance and temperament, she matched Reid perfectly. Still, I did have a pursuer of my own. The next morning, when I arrived at the office, there was a sandwich and a latte on my desk. Beside them was a note. Remember to eat breakfast properly. It wasn’t the first time I had received breakfast. I also knew who had left it. Tyler Brooks. A colleague from the neighboring department. We had added each other on Messenger because of work. He had been pursuing me for some time now. From thoughtful breakfasts to afternoon desserts, he never missed a day. “A love breakfast. I’m so jealous.” Paige appeared behind me at some point and patted my shoulder with a smile. “Is it Tyler?” “Yeah.” I nodded. “He’s really thoughtful. Reid has never done little considerate things like this for me.” Paige said it casually, then went back to her own desk. I took out my phone and messaged Tyler. Thank you for breakfast. I’ll eat it properly. He replied quickly. Then I’ll bring it for you every day. During lunch break, I quietly asked Paige, “What do you think of Tyler?” Paige and I had only been at the company for a year. Tyler was a senior employee, two years older than us. “He’s not bad. You can try getting to know him.” “You think he’s good too?” “Compared with Reid, he’s far off, but he’s still a clean-cut handsome guy. And he’s capable at work.” “Yeah. He’s nice and very proactive.” “Then give it a try. If you two get together, we can go on double dates.” That night, our department had a dinner gathering. Unexpectedly, Tyler came too. I was a little happy. I thought he must have come because of me. He chose a love song, and while singing, he kept looking at me. Paige sat beside me and whispered, “So sweet.” She made me embarrassed, and I kept lowering my head to drink water. Later, everyone played games together, and the atmosphere was good. After drinking too much water, I went to the restroom. When I came out, I saw Paige and Tyler leaving the private room together and walking toward the end of the hallway. I found it strange. They had barely spoken earlier, but the way they walked out together looked very familiar. I followed them. I never expected to see Tyler and Paige embracing behind the emergency exit door. Because they were around a corner, they couldn’t see me. But I could see them clearly. “What do you like about Noelle?” Paige leaned against Tyler’s chest and smiled up at him. “Noelle looks obedient and pure. She seems suitable as a girlfriend.” Tyler answered, but the way he looked at Paige was burning hot. “Hah. She’s boring. Her personality is so stiff. Wouldn’t dating her be dull?” At Paige’s words, my back stiffened. “But she is easy to chase. She has basically no dating experience. If you’re just a little nice to her, she’ll get moved.” Paige’s tone was full of mockery and disdain. I stood there as if someone had poured a basin of cold water over my head. “The person I actually like is you. But you have a boyfriend. So I can only settle for second best.” “You won’t chase me just because I have a boyfriend?” “I do love my boyfriend. But it’s not like I can’t spare some time and energy for you.” “Besides, you have advantages my boyfriend doesn’t.” “What?” Tyler asked curiously. Paige’s fingers brushed his lips. “You’re good at kissing.” “My boyfriend is handsome, but in that area, he’s cold.” Hearing that, Tyler kissed her immediately. Paige hooked her arms around his neck, and the two kissed as if they couldn’t bear to part. Seeing that scene, I could hardly believe it. Was this the Paige I knew? She was the one who had encouraged me to try things with Tyler. Yet behind my back, she was entangled with him while belittling and mocking me. I didn’t know when it had started. But I didn’t want to believe that my best friend of more than ten years could be this kind of person. Just as I was about to rush forward and confront them, someone suddenly grabbed my wrist. I whipped around. There stood Reid, his face dark. I froze. When had he appeared? Had he heard everything Paige and Tyler said? “Reid, you—” Before I could finish, Reid pulled me into a small side room. The door closed, and I found myself pinned in front of him. In the dim space, there were only our bodies pressed together and our tangled breaths. “Paige said I’m cold and bad at kissing. What do you think?” “…” My eyes widened. My heart pounded like a drum. “Why… why are you asking me?” Reid leaned closer, his sharp, beautiful face almost touching mine. “Didn’t you experience it that night?” My face exploded red at Reid’s words. I couldn’t speak at all. The next second, Reid’s expression became deeply sad. At such a close distance, I could smell alcohol on his breath. Paige had said he worked in the marketing department and sometimes had to drink with clients. I didn’t expect it to be such a coincidence that he was at the same KTV tonight and accidentally witnessed Paige cheating. “To be honest, I never thought Paige would betray me.” Reid’s voice was dark and low, clean but desolate. I was silent. After all, Paige hadn’t only betrayed Reid. She had betrayed me too. I had treated her as my best friend. But behind my back, she was involved with the man pursuing me and had degraded me like I was worthless. “My parents divorced when I was in elementary school.” “The rare time my father took me to school, he ended up hooking up with a classmate’s mother.” “Was that my fault?” Reid’s usually cold, composed face became painfully fragile. His dark, beautiful eyes seemed to glisten faintly. My heart moved. I felt a quiet ache for him. “Was it my fault? Was I too cold, and that’s why Paige betrayed me?” Reid looked at me. At that moment, the questioning heat in his eyes seemed able to set me on fire. Memories of that night flooded back like a tide. Suddenly, I felt thirsty. My senses, breath, and heartbeat no longer felt like my own. When Reid leaned against my shoulder, breathing unevenly, I suddenly panicked and pushed him away. “You’re drunk. Calm down.” After saying that, I quickly fled the room. Everything was too crazy. When I returned to the private room, Paige and Tyler were already back. Seeing me, Paige immediately held my arm affectionately. “Where did you go? Tyler was looking for you just now.” “To the restroom.” I was still shaken, but seeing Paige’s fake smile, I couldn’t help pulling my arm from her hand. “Come on, sing a duet together. Tyler has been waiting forever.” Paige pointed at Tyler nearby. Tyler pretended to be shy, holding the microphone and looking at me expectantly. I was almost shocked by their acting skills. Unfortunately, I didn’t have acting skills that good. “I’m not feeling well. I’m leaving first.” A few days later, Paige suddenly came to me crying, saying Reid had broken up with her. I asked why. She hesitated and lied, saying it was because of small life conflicts and incompatible personalities. Of course I knew the real reason. But seeing how heartbroken she looked, I didn’t expose her. Tyler had only been pursuing me. Although I had felt a faint liking for him, that was all. Now that I knew he didn’t truly like me, I could simply ignore him. But Paige… She was my only close friend. We had known each other since middle school. By now, it had been over ten years. Since childhood, I had been soft-tempered, and my family wasn’t well-off. Sometimes classmates bullied me. After Paige became my friend, she always stood in front of me to protect me and speak up for me. At the age when girls cared about beauty, I wore washed-out T-shirts and jeans every day. She gave me brand-new dresses she had never worn without hesitation. From school to work, she had given me so much help and love. I remembered all of it. I would not forgive Tyler. But I selectively forgave Paige. Paige stopped crying and hugged me tighter in grievance. “Mm. Noelle, thank goodness you’re here with me. You’re so good to me.” Because Reid had discovered Paige’s cheating, Paige no longer kept contact with Tyler privately. So Tyler pursued me even harder. Besides the breakfast that arrived every day without fail, he found all kinds of excuses to send me flowers and gifts, even claiming he was on the way so he could drive me home. But I only felt disgusted. After I refused his movie invitation for the third time, Tyler finally showed his true face. After working overtime, Tyler came up behind me and grabbed my wrist. “Noelle, what are you pretending for? You took so many breakfasts and gifts from me, flirted with me on Messenger for so long, and now suddenly you say you’re not interested? Are you playing me?” “Let go of me.” I had no idea what had gotten into him. “I’ll convert everything into cash and pay you back. Please stop pestering me.” “You think you can end it just because you say so? Do you really think I’m some worthless bootlicker?” “Please respect yourself. I didn’t force you to do any of those things.” I didn’t want to tangle with Tyler and turned to leave. He chased after me and grabbed my bag. In the pushing and pulling, I accidentally fell to the ground. Tyler tried to come help me, but someone knocked him down with one punch. “Stay away from her.” I looked up. Reid stood in front of me, glaring angrily at Tyler. Tyler was stunned by the punch and ran off in embarrassment. “Noelle, are you okay?” Reid helped me up. “I’m fine. I just fell by accident.” I instinctively waved my hand. During the struggle with Tyler, my collar had been pulled open, exposing a large area of skin at my chest. Reid noticed and immediately took off his jacket, handing it to me. “Put this on first.” I looked down and only then realized how disheveled I looked. I quickly accepted it and put it on. “Thank you.” Then Reid’s gaze suddenly fell on my chest, becoming deep. I froze, and my heart jumped. But I quickly realized he was looking at my collarbone. There was a pink butterfly birthmark there. I had been born with it. I didn’t know if it was my imagination, but Reid’s gaze seemed mixed with shock and hesitation. Why was he staring there? Was it because Paige had a similar scar near her collarbone? Instinctively, I tightened the jacket collar and covered myself completely. “I’m sorry.” Noticing my movement, Reid abruptly came back to himself and apologized with a red face. After a moment, he returned to his usual calmness. “I’ll take you home.” I nodded and followed Reid into the car. After that day, Tyler no longer bothered me. Paige, meanwhile, was busy trying to get back together with Reid. She called him every day, went to his place repeatedly, and even came to my apartment in the middle of the night to drink and cry. I thought she really loved him. But I never expected that even when someone liked another person so much, their body could still cheat. At the end of the month, during a meeting, our department manager assigned Paige a major project for the year. But this time, Paige said she wasn’t capable enough and asked me to handle the project with her. “The company values this project a lot. If we do well, promotions and raises at year-end are almost guaranteed. Noelle, you’re my best friend. Of course I’d pull you into something this good.” Hearing Paige say that, I was touched. Maybe back then, she had just acted on impulse and wanted to feel superior with Tyler. Because we had to discuss project details, the client asked us to meet at a restaurant. They booked a large private room. The project discussion went smoothly, except that several client representatives kept toasting Paige and me. Paige knew I couldn’t drink, so she kept blocking drinks for me. She had a high tolerance. But after four or five glasses, even I couldn’t bear to watch. “I’ll take this one.” I looked at Paige’s flushed cheeks and took the glass from in front of her. Then I drank it in one go. “Ms. Price is straightforward too.” The man who spoke was Grant Lewis, forty years old, a successful vice president at the client company. Mr. Lewis looked at me with satisfaction. Later, he specifically toasted me. I had no choice but to drink another glass. Soon, my head spun. I couldn’t hold my liquor and lost consciousness.

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My desk mate was the school’s golden boy. So many girls left sweet treats on his desk. During my poorest year, I stole from those piles every single day. A mini cinnamon roll today, a blueberry muffin tomorrow. When the long recess bell rang and everyone headed to the track for laps, I would slip a slice of his freshly delivered strawberry brioche into my bag, saving it for lunch. Until one day, I saw the floating comments. 【She’s been shameless since she was a kid. Stealing at this age, she’ll never amount to anything.】 【Her mom ran off with someone else, her dad is a hopeless gambler. A piece of trash like her doesn’t deserve to be anywhere near Asher. She needs to look in a mirror.】 【Let her steal. Her dad is going to sell her to cover his debts anyway. She’ll never have the right to stand in front of Asher.】 1 My gaze remained locked onto those drifting lines of text. I forgot to chew; the stolen muffin sat heavy and tasteless on my tongue. Carefully, I pulled the stolen slice of brioche from my bag and slipped it back into Asher’s desk, hiding it away like a shameful secret. I had no idea if the messages floating in the air were real. But my dad was a gambler, that much was true. My mother had walked out years ago, unable to bear the weight of his debts. To the rest of the world, she had simply abandoned us. So, if the text said he was going to sell me to cover what he owed… It was probably true, too. 2 The recess bell blared, sharp and demanding. I drifted out with the crowd, my legs feeling light and hollow, as if I were walking on air. I was so incredibly hungry. Usually by this time, I would have eaten half of Asher’s breakfast. Not today. The glowing words kept scrolling across my vision. 【Oh, look who stopped stealing. Did she suddenly find a conscience?】 【Stop pretending. As soon as the room clears out, she’ll be right back at it.】 【How has Asher not caught her yet? She’s getting off way too easy. Once a thief, always a thief.】 I kept my eyes on my shoes, silent. They weren’t wrong. No matter how desperate I was, stealing was wrong. I shouldn’t have done it. I pressed a hand against my stomach. But God, I was so hungry. 3 During gym class on the field, the world began to tilt. The sun beat down ruthlessly. My blood sugar had plummeted, and with only a few bites of stolen food in my system, my head throbbed with a dull, heavy ache. Halfway through our laps, a classmate noticed how pale I had gone and alerted the teacher. Seeing my ghost-white face, the coach walked me over to the shade of the blooming mimosa trees to rest. I sat beneath the pink, feathery blossoms, staring blankly at the brick school building in the distance. The text flared up again. 【The pathetic second lead is acting frail to get sympathy. Classic.】 【Just thinking about her running back to the classroom to rummage through Asher’s desk makes me sick.】 【Isn’t this a prestigious private academy? Why do they admit trailer trash like her? The stench of poverty is suffocating.】 I buried my face in my knees. Their words were so sharp. I didn’t want to look, but the letters seemed to follow my gaze, seared into the back of my eyelids even when I closed them. Pathetic. Fake. Disgusting. Trash. The insults looped endlessly. The comments grew meaner by the second. I bit my lip, pressing down hard to ignore them. I’m not. I was just hungry. I’m not a bad person. 4 The bell rang, signaling the end of recess. The students flooded back. I lingered on the grass until the very last moment, making me the last one to enter the classroom. Asher was already in his seat, leaning forward to organize his textbooks. Golden sunlight streamed through the window, highlighting his sharp jawline and casting long shadows from his thick eyelashes. He was beautiful. No wonder he was the school’s golden boy, adored by almost everyone at Oakridge. I didn’t dare look at him directly. Keeping my head low, I walked to my desk. As soon as I sat down, my eyes fell on the strawberry brioche resting on top of his desk, alongside the half-eaten muffin from this morning. I froze. He had never taken his food out of his drawer before. Did he know? The comments started up again. 【Look how guilty she looks. She definitely got caught.】 【Asher, call her out. Let the whole class know what a thief she is.】 【Keep our school clean. Kick the thief out.】 I gripped the hem of my skirt, my knuckles turning white. My palms were slick with cold sweat. I held my breath, terrified of drawing his attention. What if he turned around and asked why his breakfast was missing? Images of him humiliating me in front of everyone flashed through my mind. Everyone was here. If he spoke up now, my shame would be public. Maybe they were right. Maybe I was just a bad person. The spiral of anxiety tightened in my chest, and right then, Asher turned toward me. My heart jumped. I quickly looked down, pretending to search for a book in my bag. Thankfully, he didn’t accuse me. He just watched me in silence. His eyes drifted down to my hands, which were frantically twisting my uniform. His brow furrowed slightly. “Are you okay today?” I opened my mouth. There was so much I wanted to say, but my throat felt tight and dry. What could I say anyway? I’m sorry I’ve been stealing your breakfast? That would just be a confession before he even asked. I shook my head, my voice barely a whisper. “I’m fine.” 【Liar. She’s sweating because she’s guilty.】 【Why does this cheap drama have to ruin a perfectly good high school romance? She’s so annoying.】 Asher didn’t say anything else, nor did he press further. He just lingered, studying my face for a moment longer. Just as I thought he was about to say something, the warning bell rang for the next class. I let out a shaky breath. I had never been so grateful for a school bell. The teacher walked in, textbook in hand, and I hastily opened my notebook, pretending to take notes, though the words blurred together. Asher turned back around, his posture straight and attentive. He focused on the lesson as if nothing had happened. The tension drained from my shoulders, leaving a strange, hollow ache in its place. He didn’t push. He didn’t expose me. But did he already know? Was he just too polite to say it? My stomach rumbled again. I pressed a hand against it and bit my lip. Looks like I’d be skipping lunch today, too. 5 The final bell of the morning was like an explosion of life. The classroom instantly erupted into chatter as students packed their bags, heading for the cafeteria. Audrey turned around, her bright eyes fixed on me. “Hey Stella, coming to lunch?” I shook my head quickly. “No, go ahead. I still have some homework to finish.” The cafeteria food was far too expensive for me. I never went. Audrey invited me occasionally, but after my constant refusals, she never pressed. She was sweet but a bit oblivious. She just nodded, waved, and ran off with her friends. Asher packed his things, stood up, and left with a group of boys. The classroom emptied quickly, leaving only me. I slumped onto my desk, resting my chin on my arms. The hallway chatter faded into the distance, and the hunger returned with a vengeance. It felt like a small, sharp claw scratching at the lining of my stomach. I reached into my pocket. Fifty cents. That was all I had. After a long internal debate, I walked down to the school store. The small shop was relatively quiet. The cheapest snack bar was a dollar fifty. I stood before the shelf, staring at a small packet of crackers for a long time, swallowing hard. Maybe I stood there too long, because the cashier looked up. “Can I help you find something, sweetie?” I couldn’t afford anything. I shook my head and bolted out the door. I walked to the quiet grove behind the old school building. Almost nobody came here. I hid myself in the shadow of a large oak tree. The floating text flared up again. 【Lmao, she can’t even afford a dollar bar.】 【Just steal from Asher again. It’s not like you haven’t done it a million times.】 【A thief trying to act righteous. Hilarious. Enjoy starving, you brought this on yourself.】 I kept quiet. I knew what I did was wrong. I wouldn’t do it again. But the text didn’t care. It kept scrolling across my field of vision. As I stared blankly at the words, laughter echoed from down the path. I looked up to see Asher and a few other boys walking by. He held a cold bottle of soda, his long fingers wrapped around the glass. The sunlight caught the condensation, making it glint painfully bright. I shrank back behind the oak tree, hiding myself completely. I waited until their footsteps fully faded before I dared to creep out and head back to the classroom. I walked slowly, and by the time I returned, Asher was already there. His soda sat half-finished on his desk, right next to the strawberry brioche from this morning. I averted my eyes immediately, pretending to organize my books. My head throbbed, a dizzy spell washed over me, and my stomach twisted in pain. 6 The teacher’s voice sounded like it was coming from underwater. I rested my head on my desk, my hand clutching my stomach as a sharp cramp tore through it. The acidity was rising in my throat. I buried my face in my sleeves, hoping the darkness would dull the pain. 【Oh please, she skipped one lunch and she’s acting like she’s been starving for three days.】 【Is this how a scholarship kid behaves? Sleeping in class? She doesn’t deserve the financial aid Oakridge gives her.】 【She’s not here to learn. She’s here to bag a rich guy. Why else would she wedge herself next to Asher?】 【Exactly. She keeps staring at his desk. Her intentions are so obvious.】 I bit my lip so hard I tasted copper, my nails digging into my arms. I wanted to scream. I wanted to defend myself. But I couldn’t. I was a scholarship student, and I did stare at Asher’s desk. But it wasn’t to seduce him. Not that anyone would believe me. 7 “Stella?” The teacher’s voice snapped me back to reality. I stood up, my mind a complete blank. I hadn’t been paying attention at all. Every eye in the room turned to me. Heat rushed to my face, burning hot. The teacher repeated, “What is the solution to problem four on the board?” I stared at the whiteboard. There were three different equations, and I didn’t even know which one she was pointing to. I stood frozen, my fingers desperately clutching the fabric of my skirt, unable to utter a single word. The text mocked me relentlessly. 【Hahaha, look at her. Completely clueless.】 【Scholarship kid? More like charity case. She’s slow and lazy.】 【Just sit down. You’re embarrassing yourself.】 My vision blurred, tears welling up in my eyes. Just then, Audrey slightly turned her head. In a whisper meant only for me, she said, “It’s B.” The teacher saw my distress and sighed. “Sit down, Stella. Please pay attention.” 8 When the bell finally rang, the teacher gathered her papers and left. The class scattered into their usual groups, some chatting by the lockers, others napping on their desks. I sat still, pretending to write. My stomach was empty, aching, and my head spun with every breath. The floating text kept going. 【Seriously, how long is she going to milk this? It’s just one missed meal. Great acting, though.】 【So young, yet so manipulative. It’s disgusting.】 I wasn’t acting. I was genuinely starving. But there was no way to explain that to a bunch of invisible voices who had already decided I was a villain. My pen bled a dark ink stain onto my scrap paper. I took a deep breath, moving the pen away. I could handle this. I just needed to focus on my schoolwork. Then, Audrey turned around, looking frantic. “Stella, hey, do you happen to have a pad? My period started unexpectedly, and my locker is empty.” 9 My hand tightened around my bag. I did. In the deepest pocket of my backpack, wrapped in a cheap plastic bag, was a pack of generic sanitary pads. I had bought them online. Eight dollars for a box of a hundred. No brand name. Coarse packaging. They felt stiff and rough. They often gave me rashes. How could I lend something like that to Audrey? She always used high-end, organic brands. I was too ashamed to offer her something so cheap and potentially unsafe. I stammered, “I… let me check my bag.” I unzipped my bag, pretending to search, my fingers brushing against the crinkly, stiff plastic. I pulled my hand back as if I had been burned. The comments flared instantly. 【She definitely has one, she just doesn’t want to share.】 【How petty. Audrey is always nice to her.】 【She’s just jealous of Audrey. Audrey is pretty, rich, and perfect for Asher.】 【She’s rotten to the core.】 I bit my lip, looked up, and lied. “I’m sorry, Audrey. I don’t have any.” 10 “Oh, okay,” Audrey said gently. “I’ll ask someone else.” She was about to turn around when two boys came wrestling down the aisle. With a loud crash, they slammed right into my desk. My backpack slid off the chair, hitting the floor. The zipper broke, and everything spilled out across the floor. Pencils, erasers, notebooks… and the cheap plastic bag holding the rough sanitary pads. It rolled right to Audrey’s feet. The blood drained from my face. I dropped to my knees, frantically grabbing at my things, trying to stuff them back into the bag. But it was too late. Audrey had already seen it. She looked down, then up at me, confused. “Stella… you do have them. Why did you say you didn’t?”

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1 Three years after I was kidnapped, the police finally raided the compound. In the interrogation room, the detective asked me, her eyes rimmed with red: “Why didn’t you run? You had so many chances to call for help.” I stared at her, genuinely bewildered. “Why would I run? The food was free, and they didn’t charge me for sleeping on the floor.” The detective froze. She didn’t know that in the place I called home, my biological parents ran a strict pay-per-use system. A glass of hot water was fifty cents. A meal was two dollars. But my brother, Tommy, drank and ate for free, and even got rewards. On my ninth birthday, unable to afford a simple cupcake, I walked away with the child traffickers. The female officer sitting across from me was named Avery. She pushed a thermos with a loosened cap toward me, but I immediately yanked my hands back, tucking them behind my waist. My fingers dug hard into the hem of my worn shirt. “I’m not thirsty,” I whispered, staring at the rim of the cup and swallowing my dry spit. “I don’t have money to buy water.” Avery’s hand froze mid-air. She looked at the cup, then at me. “This is free water provided by the station. You don’t have to pay.” I shook my head violently. Nothing in this world was free. My mother always said that every drop of water and every grain of rice in the house had a price tag. I had lived in that house for nine years, spending every day scouring the roadside ditches for aluminum cans and plastic bottles to trade for pennies. Every cent had to be handed over on time. Only when I paid enough was I allowed a bite of food. Sometimes, if I didn’t collect enough cans, I had to sleep on the floor on an empty stomach. Sleeping on the bed required a rental fee. But with the traffickers, it was different. Every day, they handed out two pieces of dry cornbread. No matter how stale it was, it was free. At night, a dozen of us kids squeezed onto a single straw mat to sleep. No one ever came to collect a lodging fee. I scrambled to do all the chores. I swept the floors, washed the dishes, and did anything they asked, just so they wouldn’t throw me out. The other children cried constantly, begging for their moms and dads. Every sob earned them a beating. I never cried. I was terrified they would think I was difficult and send me back to that house where everything cost money. Until three days ago, when Avery led a team that smashed through the courtyard gates. When the traffickers were pinned to the dirt floor, I was hiding behind the stove, gnawing on a stale piece of cornbread. Avery came over and scooped me up. I thrashed and fought with all my might. I didn’t want to go. If I left, where would I get free cornbread? She brought me back to the precinct. For the last two days, my heart had been in my throat. Avery sighed softly, continuing her questioning. “Your name is Mae, right? We’ve contacted your biological parents. They are on their way here now.” A violent shiver ran down my spine. I was going back. Back to the house where even a cup of water came with a bill. Avery noticed my trembling and softened her voice. “Don’t be afraid. The bad guys are locked up. You’re going home.” I stared at her gentle, sympathetic face, completely lost. I had no idea what I had done wrong. I reached into my pocket, but it was completely empty. I didn’t have any money to pay for a bed tonight. Avery arranged a small break room for me. I sat on the very edge of the mattress, not daring to lie down, and pressed my hand against the fabric. It was incredibly soft. In my old house, sleeping on the wooden cot was a dollar a night. If I wanted a blanket, that was another fifty cents. Every single morning, the moment I opened my eyes, my mind raced to calculate where I could find enough scrap metal to survive the day. Plastic bottles were five cents a piece. Scraps of cardboard were ten cents a pound. My mother had drawn a tally in chalk on the living room wall, a record of what I owed her. “Just bringing you into this world cost eighty dollars in medical exams. You have to pay that back.” She would repeat this while rubbing her apron, her eyes cold, as if she were looking at a piece of secondhand furniture she was trying to sell off. In that house, nothing was free, except for my brother, Tommy. 2 Tommy got a hard-boiled egg every single morning. I could only stand by the wall, watching him chew, swallowing my spit. Once, I was so hungry my vision was blurred. I reached out to touch a tiny piece of eggshell left on the table. My mother slammed her wooden spoon hard against the back of my hand. “What do you think you’re touching? You want an egg? Buy it yourself. One dollar!” I yanked my hand back. The skin instantly flared bright red. I didn’t dare cry. If I made a sound and disturbed Tommy’s breakfast, my mother would deduct it from my dinner fund. Dinner had to be bought, too. Two dollars a meal, which only got me a dry roll and a bowl of watery cabbage. I often couldn’t scrape together those two dollars. On those nights, I would crawl out of bed in the dark to gulp tap water from the basin. The tap water was free, but it made my stomach twist in agony. Once, the pain was so sharp I rolled on the floor, biting my lip to keep from making a sound. If I woke my mother, she would charge me a five-dollar disturbance fee. To earn enough for my daily food and lodging, I did whatever it took. I rummaged through rusty metal heaps at the dump. Once, a piece of broken glass sliced deep into my finger. Blood dripped onto the dirt. I didn’t go to the clinic. A band-aid was fifty cents. I tore a strip from the hem of my shirt, wrapped it tight around my finger, and went right back to digging through the next trash bin. On my ninth birthday, I had saved up for a whole month. I had exactly two dollars and fifty cents. I folded the two dollar bills and the fifty-cent coin neatly, tucking them deep inside my shirt against my bare skin. That day, I wanted to go to the diner at the corner and buy a small blueberry pancake. I had watched the cook make them from a distance for a year. It was my only birthday wish. But as I reached the gate, my mother blocked my path. She grabbed me by the hair and shoved her hand straight down my shirt. I fought back, covering my chest. “Mom, please! That’s my money! It’s my birthday today!” A sharp slap sent me sprawling onto the dirt. The coins and crumpled bills tumbled out, and my mother snatched them up instantly. “Birthday? What birthday? Your brother is exactly two dollars short for his new superhero action figure. Consider this your contribution.” She turned on her heel, pocketing my survival. I scrambled up, grabbing the edge of her trousers. “Mom, please, just leave me two dollars. I only want one pancake. I’ll collect twice as many bottles tomorrow, I swear!” She kicked me away. “A useless girl wants pancakes? Get out of my sight.” I lay in the dirt, watching her walk inside. The heavy wooden door slammed shut. I walked to the street alone, standing across from the diner. The sweet smell of batter filled the air. I swallowed my spit, knowing I could no longer afford it. That was when a man approached me. He held out a piece of candy. I stepped back, covering my empty pockets. “Mister, how many cents does this candy cost?” He blinked, stunned. “Nothing. It’s free.” I stared at the candy. In my nine years of life, that was the very first time I had ever heard the word free. I reached out and took it, letting the sugar melt on my tongue. “I can take you to a place where you get free food every day. Want to come?” he asked. I didn’t hesitate. I reached out and took his hand. The man’s name was Garrett. He put me in a dark van. There were five other children inside, all of them sobbing. Only I sat quietly in the corner, keeping that free piece of candy tucked against my cheek, refusing to swallow it too quickly. A girl in a pink dress was crying hysterically for her mother. Garrett turned from the front seat and screamed at her to shut up. When she kept crying, he slapped her hard. She went silent, trembling. Garrett looked at me. I immediately sat up straight, placing my hands neatly on my knees. “Mister, does riding in this car cost money?” I asked. Garrett froze. 3 He stared at me for a long time, then burst into a loud laugh. “No. Follow me, kid, and nothing will ever cost you a dime.” I nodded quickly. As long as it was free. I didn’t even have the two dollars for a bus ticket. If he wanted to charge me, I would have had to jump out of the moving van. We drove for hours, stopping at a compound with high concrete walls. We were herded into a windowless room with nothing but a single large straw mat on the floor. Garrett came in carrying a plastic bucket filled with stale, yellowed cornbread. He handed two to each of us. The girl in the pink dress threw hers on the ground. “I’m not eating this! I want chicken nuggets! I want to go home!” she wailed. Garrett didn’t beat her. He simply locked the door and walked out. I stared at the cornbread on the floor. It was dusty, but in my house, if food fell on the floor, my mother would force it down my throat and charge me a fifty-cent waste fee. I crawled over, picked it up, brushed off the dirt, and took a bite. It was rock hard, but it wasn’t spoiled. Most importantly, it was free. I wolfed down my own two pieces, then ate the one the girl had thrown away. My stomach was full. For the first time in nine years, I felt completely full. I leaned against the corner, rubbing my bloated stomach, doing the math. If I were at home, a meal like this would have cost three dollars. I just saved three dollars. The next morning, the door opened. A heavy-set woman walked in. They called her Nellie. Nellie brought a tub of watery cabbage. The other kids refused to eat, continuing to wail. Nellie whipped out a switch, striking anyone who cried. The room filled with screams. I didn’t cry. I walked over to the tub, picked up a chipped ceramic bowl, scooped a massive portion, and ate greedily in the corner. Nellie held her switch in mid-air, staring at me. “You’re not afraid of me?” I swallowed my food. “Ma’am, does this food cost anything?” Nellie knit her brows. “Is this kid out of her mind?” she muttered. I wanted to be sure. I set my bowl down, grabbed a broom from the corner, and began to sweep. “Ma’am, I don’t have any money to give you. But I can sweep the floors, wash the dishes, anything. Just please don’t charge me for the food.” I swept with everything I had, gathering the trash and dusting the window sills. Nellie watched me for a long time. Finally, she lowered her switch. From that day on, I was the only kid in the compound who wasn’t tied up. I never tried to run. Instead, I worked. Before dawn, I swept the yard. Then I built the fire in the kitchen. The wood was often damp, filling the room with thick smoke that stung my eyes, but I didn’t stop. At home, if the fire didn’t catch, my mother would beat my legs and then charge me twenty cents for wasted effort. Here, nobody beat me. I couldn’t afford to lose this free job. Once the fire was going, I washed the laundry. A mountain of clothes from a dozen kids, plus Garrett and Nellie’s things. In the winter, the water was freezing. My hands quickly became red, swollen, and cracked with chilblains that oozed fluid. Nellie saw them once and gave me a light kick. “Don’t get your blood on my sheets.” I quickly wiped my hands on my pants. “Don’t worry, ma’am. I’ll keep them spotless. I wash very clean.” She ignored me and walked away. I plunged my hands back into the icy water. It stung like needles, but I was happy. Nellie hadn’t charged me a medical fee for the chilblains. At home, if I so much as sneezed, my mother demanded a dollar for contagion prevention. Here, being sick was free. 4 Three months later, the girl in the pink dress was taken away. Nellie said she fetched a good price. That night, a new batch of kids arrived. One of the boys developed a raging fever, mumbling in his sleep on the straw mat. Nellie didn’t call a doctor. To her, medicine cost money. If a kid survived on their own, great. If not, they were discarded. By the third day, the boy had stopped moving. His breathing was barely a whisper. I kept bringing him water, but he couldn’t swallow. It dribbled down his chin onto the mat. I quickly wiped it away, terrified Nellie would charge him a cleanup fee. That night, Garrett came in with a burlap sack. He stuffed the boy inside. The boy didn’t even struggle. I watched from the corner. I recognized that sack; it was the one we used for potatoes. Garrett slung it over his shoulder and walked out. Nellie muttered from behind him, “Useless trash. Wasted days of food on him. Should’ve left him under a bridge in the first place.” I took her words to heart. Wasting food gets you put in a sack. I must never waste food. The next morning, I picked up the half-eaten cornbread the boy had left behind. It had started to grow green mold. I scraped the mold off with my fingernails and chewed it thoroughly. It tasted bitter, but I swallowed it. Adults hated spending money. To survive, I had to be useful and cost them absolutely nothing. At the end of my first year, Garrett and Nellie had a massive fight. Garrett wanted to sell me. He said he found an old man in the mountains willing to pay two thousand dollars for a young helper. Nellie refused. “If you sell her, who’s going to wash the clothes? Who’s going to cook? Hiring a local hand would cost at least two hundred a month,” she argued, pointing at my face. “This girl only needs a bit of food. We’ll save that two thousand in a few months.” I listened, understanding perfectly. Nellie thought I was cheap. I was thrilled. As long as I was cheap, they would keep me. Garrett backed down, and I stayed, becoming the compound’s free maid. By the third year, I was twelve. I woke at five to boil porridge and distributed the cornbread at six. I never hit the new kids. I only told them, “Eat. It’s free. If you don’t, they’ll put you in the sack.” Some didn’t understand and kept crying, so I took their portions and ate them myself. I didn’t think I was doing anything wrong; I was just following the rules of this free world. I even managed to save six coins. They were quarters and dimes that Garrett had dropped when he was drunk. I had quickly snatched them up and rubbed the dirt off on my shirt. At night, I pried up my thin shoe inserts and scraped a small hollow into the rubber soles, tucking the coins safely inside before sliding the inserts back. I slept with my shoes on. Those six coins were my only security in this world. If Nellie ever decided to sell me, I would give her the money and tell her I could buy my own cornbread. Until three days ago. The heavy wooden gates were smashed open. Men in uniforms poured into the yard. Garrett was pinned to the dirt as he tried to slip out the back. Nellie shrieked as handcuffs were slapped onto her wrists. The yard was chaos. The uniformed men searched every corner. I didn’t know what was happening. My first thought was that they were here to collect money. My mother always said that when people in uniforms came to the house, it meant a fine had to be paid. I was terrified. I had no money for fines. I scrambled into the kitchen and squeezed myself under the brick stove, clutching the chipped ceramic bowl I had used for three years. Avery walked into the kitchen. Her flashlight beam found me. “Hey there, sweetie. Don’t be scared. We’re the police. We’re here to take you home.” I shrank further into the darkness. “I don’t have any money! I can’t pay the fine! Please don’t lock me up!” Avery froze. She lowered her flashlight and reached out to pull me out. I lunged forward and bit her wrist as hard as I could. She didn’t pull away, even as my teeth sank deep, leaving a bruised, bleeding ring. She gently but firmly scooped me up and carried me out. Even as they loaded me into the police car, I refused to let go of my chipped ceramic bowl.

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1 On my hundredth attempt to propose, I never got the words out. Serena glanced at me before looking back at her phone. “Austin, just give me another six months.” Nolan’s name lit up her screen. I smiled and walked away. My phone buzzed. Serena’s post showed white roses from Nolan. Her caption read, “Some are worth the wait, others are just always there.” Someone asked where her shadow was. She replied, “Him? He’s used to it.” I was used to it. Used to waiting hours, being stood up, and watching Nolan come first. I had followed her from age six to twenty-one, from chauffeur’s son to shadow. I comforted her, took her blame, and drove across the city for midnight tacos. Once, I spent two weeks in the ICU after taking a beating for her; she visited for ten minutes, talking to Nolan the whole time. I pulled out a business card I’d kept for three years. Audrey Harrington, sole heiress of Harrington Group. At our first meeting, she’d asked if I wanted to marry her. I’d rejected her thirteen times. On the fourteenth, I called. “Miss Harrington, does your offer still stand?” Silence hung on the line. “Where are you?” “Across from City Hall.” “Wait for me.” … It took her exactly eight minutes. Her white Porsche slid sideways into a parking spot, nearly clipping a dumpster in the process. Audrey scrambled out of the car still wearing her pajamas, her hair hastily twisted up in a claw clip, and her feet shoved into slippers. She ran all the way to me, bending over with her hands on her knees, panting hard. “I didn’t… make you wait, did I?” I shook my head. “No. Did you bring your ID?” “Got it.” She fished a small zippered pouch out of her pajama pocket, unzipped it to make sure everything was inside, and then stood up straight. She looked me up and down, her brow furrowing. “You look awful. When was the last time you slept?” Instead of answering, I took her hand and led her inside. The office wasn’t crowded, so we took a number and sat down to wait. Audrey sat close beside me, constantly stealing glances at me. Every time I caught her looking, she would quickly pretend to examine the digital queue screen, though the joy on her face was impossible to hide. Seeing her like this, I spoke up. “Is there something you want to say?” She hesitated. “Austin, are you really sure about this?” “It… it all feels so surreal…” “Tell me the truth, you’re not just doing this to spite Serena, are you?” I shook my head. “No. Don’t overthink it.” She turned to look at me, her eyes shining. “Then why now, all of a sudden?” “Austin, I chased you for three years and got rejected thirteen times.” “Today is the fourteenth. But this time, you’re not getting away.” Soon, the clerk called our number. When it came time for the photo, the photographer told us to smile. I forced a tight, awkward tug of my lips. Beside me, Audrey muttered under her breath, “That looks incredibly fake.” Then she reached over and gave my waist a sharp pinch. I gasped at the sudden sting, and the tension in my face finally broke. The camera clicked twice. “Perfect, that’s the one,” the photographer said. By the time we walked out of City Hall with our marriage certificate in hand, dusk was settling over the city. Audrey carefully tucked the papers into her bag, looking thoroughly satisfied. “Come on, let’s get some dinner.” “And remember, today is our anniversary from now on!” I smiled. “Alright.” She took a couple of steps, then stopped abruptly. “Austin, you’re mine now.” “I can’t believe a Harrington had to chase you for so long. You aren’t allowed to leave me, understand?” Looking at her profile under the warm glow of the streetlamp, I suddenly remembered our first meeting. Three years ago, the Harringtons and the Sinclairs were negotiating a partnership. She had sat across the conference table, barely speaking the entire time. But after the meeting, she stopped me in the hallway and handed me her card. “Austin, I like you. Would you consider marrying me?” I thought she was playing a prank. After all, I was just the Sinclair family’s driver’s son. My monthly salary couldn’t even buy one of her designer bags. Later on, she sent me messages on every holiday. I never replied to a single one. Sometimes in the middle of the night, I would receive slurred voice messages from her after she had too much to drink. “Austin, what do you even see in her? What does she have that I don’t?” I had never answered. It wasn’t because I didn’t want to, but because I didn’t know the answer myself. I nodded, speaking solemnly. “I know… Let’s go.” Just as the engine started, my phone vibrated. Serena’s name flashed across the screen. I glanced at it and chose not to answer. It buzzed again, this time with a text from her: “Austin, where are you? I’m outside the registry office. Come here.” I didn’t reply. I turned off the phone entirely. I didn’t see the rest of her messages until the next morning. Serena had sent over a dozen texts, transitioning from demands to threats, from threats to pleading, and finally to tears. The last one was a voice note sent at two in the morning. I didn’t play it. Audrey was sitting right across from me, enjoying her breakfast. She took a bite of her sandwich and looked up. “Will her family make things difficult for you?” “I don’t know.” “What do you plan to do?” “Nothing.” She set her sandwich down and stared at me. “Austin, my dad found out we got married. He’s actually very happy.” She paused. “But my mom isn’t.” “Why?” “She says you aren’t good enough for me.” She said it in a flat, matter-of-fact tone, as if she were relaying a piece of news that had nothing to do with her. I put down my fork and looked at her. “What do you think?” She smiled. “I think you aren’t good enough for me either.” I was caught off guard. “But it doesn’t matter. I can always lower my standards.” With that, she stuffed the rest of her sandwich into her mouth, stood up, and clapped her hands clean. “Let’s go. We’re heading to the office today. My dad wants to meet you.” I didn’t move. She turned back to look at me. “What is it?” I looked into her eyes. “Why did you want to marry me?” “Or rather, why do you like me?” She stood still, thinking about it for a long moment. “The first time I saw you, you were peeling shrimp for Serena.” “Everyone at the table was drinking and talking, but you just sat there peeling shrimp. You accumulated a whole plate of shells, but you didn’t eat a single one.” “Serena complained you were too slow, and then she dumped the entire plate of peeled shrimp into Nolan’s bowl…” “You didn’t say a word. You just wiped your hands, perfectly calm, showing no anger at all.” She looked at me, her expression softening. “I remember thinking, that man is so pitiful.” My chest tightened slightly. “And then?” She laughed. “And then I realized you’re actually incredibly handsome.” “A handsome, pitiful guy… I wanted to bring you home.” I laughed too. It was the first genuine smile I had cracked in the last three months. Before we even reached the Harrington Group headquarters, Serena’s call came through. I answered it. Her voice was raspy, sounding as though she had been crying. “Austin, what is wrong with you?” “Why aren’t you replying to my texts? Why aren’t you picking up my calls? Are you with that Audrey Harrington girl?” “Yes,” I replied, making no effort to hide it. The line went silent for a few seconds before her voice suddenly spiked with emotion. “Austin, don’t you dare forget that you promised to marry me.” I replied in a flat, even tone. “I promised ninety-nine times, and you rejected me a hundred times.” “On the hundredth time, before I could even speak, you pushed me away.” She scrambled to explain herself. “I didn’t reject you! I just asked you to wait!” “Just give me six months. Six months is all I need.” “Nolan’s mother is terribly ill, and her only wish is to see us get married… You’re a man, Austin. Can’t you show a little compassion instead of letting your petty anger dictate your actions?” I let out a soft, weary laugh. “Sure. Go ahead. I understand…” “But… I hope you can understand me too.” I hung up the phone. Audrey kept her eyes on the road, saying nothing. But she reached over, placed her hand on my knee, and gave it a gentle, reassuring pat. When we arrived at the Harrington estate, Serena’s mother, Eleanor Sinclair, called me. “Austin, get over to our house immediately. Serena needs to talk to you.” Her voice was cold, carrying the familiar tone of someone commanding a servant. “Mrs. Sinclair, there is nothing left for us to talk about.” “What is that tone?” her voice flared, rising in pitch. “Have you forgotten whose food you ate while growing up?” “Mrs. Sinclair, I haven’t forgotten.” “If you haven’t forgotten, then get your self over here! Serena has been crying all night, do you have any idea?” I was silent for a moment. “She is crying because she feels she has lost face, not because she actually misses me…” “Mrs. Sinclair, if she truly cared about me, she had fifteen years of opportunities.” “Two years ago on her birthday, I told her I wanted to marry her. She told me to wait.” “Last year on her birthday, I told her I wanted to marry her. She said she wasn’t ready.” “This year, before I could even ask, she told me to wait another six months.” “Enough!” Eleanor cut me off. “I don’t care about your complaints. You will come back right now, apologize to Serena, and we will put this matter behind us.” Without another word, I hung up the phone. Audrey walked out of the kitchen carrying two glasses of water and handed one to me. “Who was that?” “Serena’s mother.” “Making things difficult for you?” “Yes.” She sat down opposite me and took a sip of her water. “Austin, if you want to go back, you can leave right now.” “I won’t use our marriage license to hold you back or cause a scene. I can pretend this was all just an impulsive mistake… after all, you did reject me thirteen times.” She said it with an easy, casual air, but I could see her fingers trembling against the glass. I reached out and took her hand in mine. “I’m not going back, and I am never leaving you.” She looked up at me, and I felt my eyes grow slightly warm. “I spent fifteen years chasing Serena. I’m exhausted, and it’s time to stop.” “You spent three years chasing me. Now, it’s my turn to do the pursuing.” Her eyes welled with tears. “Are you serious?” “Completely.” She didn’t speak, but she squeezed my hand with all the strength she had. My phone buzzed again. It was a text from Serena. “Austin, let’s go look at wedding dresses tomorrow. Just the two of us.” I didn’t reply, and another message arrived shortly after. “I agree to marry you. Let’s get everything scheduled, okay?” I turned off my phone. Pulling Audrey into my arms, I closed my eyes and breathed in her warmth. It was a sense of absolute security that Serena had never once given me. The next day, I didn’t show up. Serena waited at the bridal shop all morning. She called repeatedly, but I didn’t answer, and her texts went ignored. Around noon, she posted a new update on her feed: “Some people forget their promises the moment they turn around. Thank goodness Nolan is always reliable, ready to show up whenever I call.” The attached photo showed Nolan wearing a sleek suit, standing in front of a mirror and smiling at the camera. I knew exactly what she was doing. She was trying to reel me back in. After all, this tactic had worked without fail every single time before today. In the comments, someone asked: “Where’s your shadow?” She replied: “Who knows, maybe he ran off with some other woman… Just kidding, he wouldn’t dare.” I stared at those three words. “He wouldn’t dare.” My eyes stung, not out of regret for my fifteen years of devotion, but because I felt a profound sorrow for the pathetic person I used to be. Audrey came out of the kitchen, carrying a plate of sliced fruit, and set it on the coffee table. “What are you looking at?” I handed the phone to her. She glanced at it, said nothing, and picked up a slice of apple, holding it out to me. “Eat some fruit.” I turned my head away to quickly wipe at my eyes before turning back to take the apple. That night, Serena got drunk. When she finally called me, it was already one in the morning. “Austin… are you really abandoning me?” Her voice was slurred, thick with tears. I remained silent, so she continued. “Come back… please… I want to see you right now…” My throat felt dry. “Serena, you’ve had too much to drink.” “I haven’t… I just want to ask you one thing…” “If I say I will marry you right now, will you still take me?”

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1 Warren Ashford was the graceful young gentleman of our circle, warm and polite to everyone. Everyone except me. He hated my fragile, pitiful appearance and said it looked like I was trying to seduce people. He also refused to let any boys come near me. I endured his isolation and petty cruelty for six whole years. In the seventh year, I escaped abroad to study. I never wanted to return to that circle again or live under his shadow. After finishing three years overseas, I married my childhood friend. On the third day after returning to North City, I went to a private club on the east side for my best friend Sophie Lane’s birthday party. Someone recognized me. “Is that Celeste?” “Looks like her. Haven’t seen her in years.” I walked forward through the crowd and saw Warren leaning by the bar. Our eyes met briefly. Three years had passed, but everything he had put me through still made me tense when I saw him. Fortunately, he soon looked away. His arm rested on the back of the chair beside a girl, and he was listening to her say something. When the girl laughed, he laughed too, lazily turning the wineglass in his hand. He treated me like air and didn’t look this way again. I still wasn’t used to occasions like this, so I went out to the terrace. I opened my phone. Nathan Reed hadn’t replied. The last message was from when I was on my way to the club. He had replied, Tell me when you arrive. Now there was only my lonely message in the chat. Arrived. He was handling work. We had just gotten our marriage certificate and were already living apart. But he had said that once his current project wrapped up, he would come to North City. I turned the screen off, then on again. Typed two words. Deleted them. Typed four more. Sent them. I kind of miss you. Behind me, someone pushed open the terrace door. I turned around. Warren stood at the entrance, the cigarette in his hand glowing and dimming. He glanced at me, exhaled a smoke ring, and said, “What, three years apart and now you won’t even greet me?” I leaned against the railing, my palm slightly damp. Warren stood three steps away, eyes fixed on my face. He was a little thinner than three years ago. The line of his jaw was sharper, his shirt collar open. Those eyes were still as dark as ever. When he looked at someone, it felt like being watched by a hunter. Warren lifted his hand and flicked the ash from his cigarette. It fell into a Hermès ashtray, a small scattering of gray-white. “Three years abroad, and you forgot how to speak?” “Warren,” I called softly. “Long time no see.” He looked at me, eyes narrowing slightly. I was fifteen that year. My mother had died a month earlier, and my father sent people to bring me from the south to North City. The day the car drove through the gates of the Kingston estate, the sky was gloomy. The living room was empty. The crystal chandelier above my head was so bright it hurt my eyes. A maid told me my room was at the end of the second-floor corridor. That room was huge. Bigger than my entire home in the south. From the window, I could see the rose bushes in the garden, trimmed neatly. The only legitimate son of the Kingston family, my half-brother, had died that summer. His mother had passed away long ago, and my father had spoiled him until he became arrogant and unruly. After he accidentally learned of my existence, people said he lost his temper that night, smashed things, then drove out. In heavy rain, he went racing on the mountain road. When he took a bend, he crashed into the guardrail and died on the spot. Later, I saw his photo in my father’s study. He and my father looked very much alike. High brow bones, and when he smiled, a tiny curve at the corner of his mouth. For some reason, seeing him so bright and alive in that photo filled me with guilt. The first time I met Warren was in the Kingston living room. He had been my brother’s best friend. They went to school together, played basketball together, skipped class to play in a band together. The Ashford and Kingston families did business together, and the children of both families had grown up mixing in the same circle. That day, the butler had taken me shopping. I had barely taken off my shoes when I saw him sitting on the sofa. He raised his eyes and looked at me for a long time. Only then did he look away and take a sip of tea. The next day at school, I heard someone call me “Kingston’s illegitimate daughter.” Later, someone spilled coffee on my uniform in the changing room. Gum was stuck to my chair. Filthy notes appeared in my desk. During running practice, someone shoved me from behind, making me scrape my knee bloody on the ground. The teacher said in class that classmates should respect one another. The room was quiet for a while. After class, everything was the same. In that circle, Warren was the leader. My father was grieving his son and had poured all his energy into business. Naturally, he wouldn’t pay attention to children’s games. I had once thought about trying to please Warren. But whenever I got near him, his disgust for me grew stronger. He said, “Celeste’s mother was a temptress, and so is she.” When he said it, he was standing by the hallway window, sunlight falling on him, making him shine. When my mother and father got together, my father’s first wife had already died. Warren wasn’t unaware of that. But he still said such cruel things. The boys beside him laughed along. Some people didn’t know my background and talked to me. A boy from the honors class upstairs saw that I had scored well on the monthly English exam and came over to discuss it with me. Warren saw it and told me he hated how I always looked delicate and pitiful, as if I was deliberately seducing someone. The next day, that boy came to class with bruises on his face. After that, no other boy dared to approach me. Because of him, my high school years were a nightmare. I had no friends. Everyone was afraid of Warren. Except Sophie. But I had also seen what he looked like when he turned his anger on her. So I could only stay away from her. I endured it like that until high school graduation. When filling out college applications, I sat in my room all night, repeatedly comparing past admission scores. My father wouldn’t let me leave North City. In the end, I chose the school farthest from Warren. I was on the east side, and he was on the west. Half the city lay between us. On the first day of school, red banners hung at the gate, and plane trees shaded half the sky. For a while, I thought I had left Warren’s shadow behind. One day, I was studying at the library, sitting by the window with a calculus textbook spread open before me. Sunset shone through the window and landed on the page in a small orange patch. My phone lit up. It was a message from a boy in Warren’s circle, asking which floor I was on. I didn’t reply. Two minutes later, my phone lit up again. He sent a photo taken from the library entrance. I saw your bike. It’s in the front row. I stared at that photo for a long time. Then he sent another message telling me to behave on campus. I turned my phone face down on the desk. The next semester, one of Warren’s friends joined the student union. That year, during scholarship evaluation, my application materials were returned because one certificate lacked an official stamp. On the day the scholarship results were posted, I stood in front of the bulletin board for a long time. The wind was strong, making the glass of the board buzz. My name wasn’t on the paper behind it. When I went to Academic Affairs to supplement the document, the teacher told me to come earlier next time. This time, the public notice had already been finalized and couldn’t be changed. Later, my roommate invited us to hotpot for her birthday. When I pushed open the door, I saw three boys from Warren’s circle at the next table. One of them recognized me and nudged the person beside him. The boy beside him turned back and looked me up and down. I knew that look. He said nothing, only whispered something to his companion, and they all laughed. My roommate asked what was wrong. I said nothing and sat with my back to them. That day, I ate a lot. The spice made tears come out. My roommate asked what was wrong, and I said it was just too spicy. Before my defense, a senior in my department added me and asked if I wanted to team up. I accepted. He messaged me for two days. On the third day, he suddenly deleted me. I didn’t ask why. Later, I ran into him once at the cafeteria. When he saw me, he hurriedly lowered his head and turned away with his tray. All those years, I didn’t even know who I was afraid of. Warren wasn’t beside me, but he was everywhere. Those people were the same as him. They didn’t need to truly do anything. One look, one sentence, one message, one group chat suddenly going silent, and every door would close. I spent all that time preparing to study abroad. I thought that if I went far enough, Warren’s hand couldn’t reach me. There were many exams required for studying abroad. While other classmates went out to eat and travel, I woke up at five every morning to memorize vocabulary. The library auntie recognized me and saved the same seat for me every day. One night, it rained heavily, and I didn’t have an umbrella. She shoved hers into my hands and said, “Go home quickly. Don’t get soaked.” I held that umbrella while walking along the campus road. The rain poured down as if someone had tipped the sky over. But I felt safe. When the offer arrived, I stared at the word Congratulations on the computer screen for a long time. I had received a full scholarship. I no longer needed to spend the Kingston family’s money. Then I printed the email, folded it, and put it in a drawer. The next summer, I dragged two suitcases to the airport. When the plane took off, I looked down from the window. North City grew smaller and smaller beneath the clouds, finally becoming a gray little patch. “Was life abroad good?” Warren asked. Evening wind blew by, carrying a chill. My thoughts returned. “It was good,” I said. He glanced at me and pressed the cigarette butt into the ashtray. Then he walked toward me and stopped in front of me. I had nowhere to retreat. He was more than half a head taller than me. I smelled faint tobacco on him, along with a trace of cedar. “For you.” He took a small object from his pocket and held it out. I looked down. It was a seal the size of a thumb, made from gray-green stone. A small crouching creature was carved at the top. There were fine cracks in the seal’s body, making it look quite old. “It’s not expensive,” he said. “I bought it from an old shop in Edo a while ago.” He turned the seal over. A character was carved at the bottom in seal script. I didn’t recognize it. “It says Celeste,” he said. “Your name.” I didn’t reach for it. He weighed it lightly in his palm. “Take it.” “No need.” “Sophie has one too.” He held it out again. “Take it.” I reached out. The seal landed in my palm, heavier than it looked, the stone cool against my skin. I closed my fingers around it and felt the raised and sunken strokes at the bottom. “Thank you,” I said. He looked at my clenched fist, his lips moving slightly. A burst of laughter came from the banquet hall. Someone was cheering for the cake cutting. The music changed from piano to jazz, and the sound of the saxophone flowed lazily out. I lit my phone and glanced at it. No message. “Waiting for someone?” Warren’s gaze followed mine to the screen. “No,” I said. I tucked the seal into the inner pocket of my clutch. Warren still hadn’t left. “You’ve changed a little,” he said. “Have I?” “You used to not dare look at me.” I didn’t answer. My phone vibrated. I turned it over. It wasn’t Nathan. It was a data reminder from the carrier. Warren’s gaze fell on my phone. His lips moved, as if he was about to say something. “Warren!” Sophie pushed open the terrace door and walked in. She wore high heels, moving quickly. The flush on her face was a little deep. “What are you doing here?” She glanced at me, then at Warren. “Miss Shaw is here, looking for you outside.” Warren didn’t move. Sophie added, “Your fiancée. Bianca Shaw.” Warren’s expression darkened. He frowned, voice low. “She isn’t my fiancée.” Sophie blinked. She tilted her head to look at Warren’s expression, then turned back to me. Her gaze paused between us. Then she reached out and linked her arm through mine. Her fingers were hot, carrying the smell of alcohol, and she leaned slightly against me. “Celeste,” she said. “I think I drank too much. My head feels dizzy.” She leaned on my shoulder. “Take me to the lounge to lie down for a bit.” She tugged my sleeve. I supported Sophie, and she draped her hand over my shoulder while waving at Warren. “You go entertain Miss Shaw yourself,” she said. “Don’t keep her waiting.” Then she leaned close to my ear and lowered her voice. “Go.” The lounge door was ajar. I pushed it open and helped Sophie onto the sofa. When the door closed, I turned around. Sophie sat cross-legged on the sofa, looking at me. Her eyes were clear. “What did Warren say to you?” “Nothing much.” “Stay away from him,” Sophie said, disgust flashing in her eyes. “He’s not a good person.” “Only you dare say that.” “I’m not afraid of him. My family doesn’t depend on his. He can’t control me.” She turned her head to look at me. “Are you afraid of him?” I didn’t speak. She took my hand. “I know these years were hard for you.” Her fingers tightened slightly. “Back then, I wasn’t firm enough.” “Don’t say that. You helped me a lot.” Only Sophie lent me notes. Only she dared to wait for me at the school gate and go home with me. “Celeste, don’t worry. I’ve grown up now, and I have ability. I’ll always stand on your side. If any of them dare bully you again, I’ll be the first to refuse.” Warmth rose in my chest. “Sophie.” “Mm?” “I’m married.” Her hand froze. “When did that happen?” “When I first came back.” She pulled her hand back and turned her whole body toward me. Her mouth opened and closed, then opened again. “To who?” “Not someone from this circle. You don’t know him,” I said. “His name is Nathan Reed. He was my childhood neighbor in the south.” “Where in the south?” “Suzhou.” “Suzhou.” She frowned and repeated, “Nathan Reed.” “Mm.” “What does he do?” “Research. Materials science.” Her brows didn’t loosen. She repeated his name slowly. When she reached the third word, she suddenly grabbed my arm. Her speech sped up. “Did he publish a paper on…” “Stability of perovskite photovoltaics.” “I’ve read that paper.” She became excited. “Last year he published a review in a Nature sub-journal. Our research group discussed it in a group meeting.” As she spoke, her voice changed. She wiped the corner of her eye and sniffed. “Why are you crying?” “Can’t I be happy?” She still clutched my arm. “Next time I go to Suzhou for a conference, you have to arrange for me to meet him.” “Okay.” “I’m not being polite.” “I know.” She still wanted to say something, but the lounge door opened. Warren stood at the entrance. His gaze swept around the room and landed on me. “Celeste, come out. I have something to say to you.” Sophie was still holding my arm. She glanced at Warren, then at me. I patted the back of her hand. “It’s okay.” The corridor was covered in thick carpet, making footsteps soundless. Warren walked ahead slowly. Then he stopped and turned around. I didn’t know what there was to say between us, so I casually brought up a topic. “Sophie said your fiancée came…” “There is a family marriage arrangement,” he interrupted. “The Shaw family is pushing it forward. The elders from both sides have met.” He pulled his hand from his pocket and leaned against the corridor wall. “Bianca Shaw is very proper. She graduated from a prestigious school, plays excellent piano, and handles social situations well. Our families have business dealings too. Everything fits.” He looked at my face. “What do you think?” I found it inexplicable. “Sounds good.” His brows shifted slightly. “Celeste, I didn’t come to talk about her.” He paused. “Your father is getting older. The Kingston family’s affairs are so vast, and they all rest on him alone. Have you thought about how many more years he can carry it?” I didn’t answer. “You studied abroad for three years. What are you planning now that you’re back? A woman can’t support such a huge family business alone. The Kingston family needs someone reliable.” He bit the word reliable very clearly. Ten years ago, he had loved manipulating me psychologically. How was he still doing this now?

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1 The day I went into labor, my mother stood outside the delivery room for thirteen hours straight. The nurse kindly offered her a chair, but she refused to sit, insisting, “If I sit, my heart won’t be at peace. Standing keeps the baby moving.” At four in the morning, when I was finally wheeled out of the delivery room, I saw my mother leaning against the wall. Her feet were so swollen she could barely keep her shoes on, yet she was still clutching my hospital paperwork. When she saw me, her face broke into a tremulous smile before she burst into tears. “My sweet girl, you’ve suffered so much…” “Where is Jordan?” I asked. My mother averted her gaze, waiting a long moment before murmuring, “Jordan… had an urgent matter at the office. He’ll be back soon.” It was only later that I discovered his “urgent matter” was flying to Miami because his assistant and childhood friend, Summer, had sprained her ankle during a company retreat and couldn’t get down the trail. He had flown out immediately to carry her down himself. Looking at my wrinkled newborn and my mother’s swollen, tear-stained face, I realized our marriage was nothing but a sham. The day I was discharged, I left the signed divorce papers on his desk. … My labor had lasted from three in the afternoon until four the next morning. For thirteen agonizing hours, my mother was the only person waiting outside. The nurse, seeing how pale she looked, had brought over a chair. “Ma’am, please sit. This is going to take a while.” My mother shook her head, her voice trembling. “No, no. If I stand, my daughter will have an easier time.” The nurse sighed and walked away. Later, I learned that my mother hadn’t dared to drink a single sip of water all night, terrified of missing the doctor’s call while in the restroom. Her feet, already prone to swelling, had ballooned so much that her shoes were cutting into her skin. When they rolled me out of the delivery room, the anesthesia was still wearing off, and I could barely keep my eyes open. Through the haze, I saw my mother leaning against the corridor wall, the crumpled paperwork clutched tightly in her hand. She smiled, the lines around her eyes deepening, before her tears began to fall. “My sweet girl… you’ve suffered so much…” My throat was parched. I licked my dry lips and whispered, “Mom… where is Jordan?” My mother’s smile froze. She turned her head, staring at the flickering light at the end of the hallway before whispering, “Jordan… had an emergency at the office. He’ll be back soon, sweetheart.” I forced a faint smile and stopped asking. My mother was notoriously terrible at lying; whenever she tried, the tips of her ears would turn bright red. As the nurse wheeled me to the postpartum ward, I held the wrinkled newborn in my arms. She was tiny, her mouth working as she slept, looking like a vulnerable little kitten. I looked down at her, and tears began to pool, spilling onto her blanket. I knew exactly what his “emergency” was. The emergency’s name was Summer, his assistant—the girl he called “the sister I grew up with,” the girl whose smiling face had been his phone wallpaper for three years. Right before I entered the delivery room, he had called to tell me Summer had sprained her ankle during their Florida retreat and couldn’t get down the trail, so he had to fly out to help her. I had told him I was in labor. He had paused for a brief second before replying, “Your mother is with you, right? The hospital is full of doctors and nurses. What could go wrong? Summer is all alone out there, and I can’t leave her.” Before hanging up, he added, “Don’t make a scene. I’ll be back to help you with the recovery.” I had clutched my phone, breathing through a contraction, and didn’t offer a single word in response. In the ward, my mother fed me warm oatmeal, blowing on each spoonful to cool it down. As she stood with her back to the window, the morning light catching her silver hair, I realized with a pang how aged she had become. “Mom, please sit down and rest.” She shook her head. “I’m not tired. Eat up, then get some sleep.” I took a couple of bites but couldn’t swallow anymore. My phone buzzed on the nightstand. It was a message from Jordan. “Summer’s ankle is severely swollen. I might have to stay in Miami for a couple of days. Is everything going smoothly on your end?” Just that. No question about the baby, no inquiry about my pain, no mention of the birth weight or whether it was a boy or a girl. It was the kind of message one might send to a distant colleague about a project. I stared at the text for a long time before turning the phone face down. My mother noticed but pretended not to, quietly peeling an egg for me. “Eat more, sweetheart. It’s good for your recovery.” Around noon, Jordan’s mother visited. She walked in carrying a generic fruit basket, and her first words weren’t for me. “Where is the baby? Let me see my grandson.” My mother carefully held out the bundle. “She’s a beautiful baby girl.” The smile instantly vanished from my mother-in-law’s face. She cast a brief glance at the baby, making no move to hold her. “Oh, a girl… Well, a girl is fine. A sweet little thing to pamper, I suppose.” My mother’s hands trembled slightly as she held the baby closer. I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, utterly silent. My mother-in-law stayed for less than ten minutes before checking her watch. “Oh, I have a card game scheduled. I must run. Take care, Nell.” She left without even unwrapping the plastic on the fruit basket. My mother walked her to the door, returning with red eyes and a forced smile. “Don’t mind her, sweetheart. We don’t need her. I’m here to take care of you.” “I know, Mom,” I murmured, burying my face in the pillow. In the afternoon, another message arrived from Jordan. “Summer wanted to try this local key lime pie place, so I’m taking her to dinner. Flying back tonight. By the way, has the baby been born yet?” I let out a sudden, hollow laugh, tears streaming down my face. Hearing me, my mother rushed over. “What is it, sweetheart? Are you hurting? Should I call the doctor?” I shook my head and handed her the phone. My mother couldn’t read well, but she recognized the name “Summer”—it was a name she had seen far too often in our home. Her lips trembled as she whispered, “Sweetheart, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have pressured you to marry him…” I stayed in the hospital for three days, and Jordan never showed up once. Instead, he posted a photo of the Florida sunset on his social media with the caption: “With the most important person, watching the most beautiful view.” Summer had liked it, leaving a comment: “Thank you, Jordan.” I took a screenshot and saved it to my album. On the third afternoon, I asked my mother to bring a document from our house—the divorce papers I had prepared six months ago. I wanted no alimony, no assets. I only wanted custody of my daughter, and then we would be completely done. My mother’s hands shook as she held the papers. “Nell… are you sure? The baby is so small. How can she grow up without a father?” I looked at her. “Mom, having no father is a hundred times better than having a father like him.” My mother fell silent for a long time before finally nodding. “Alright, sweetheart. We’ll do this together. Your mother will help you raise her.” On the day I was discharged, it was raining. My mother pushed my wheelchair out of the lobby, holding an umbrella in one hand and steering with the other. She tilted the umbrella completely over my daughter and me, leaving her own shoulder soaked by the rain. “Mom, tilt the umbrella toward yourself,” I said. She smiled. “I’m fine. I’m sturdy.” On the way home, I had the driver make a detour to Jordan’s office. I waited in the car with the baby while my mother went inside to leave the signed divorce papers on his desk. On the cover, I had written four words in red: Let’s end this cleanly. As my mother walked out, the receptionist ran after her. “Mrs. West, aren’t you going to wait for Mr. West to return?” My mother replied on my behalf. “No. He has someone more important to wait for.” Back at our apartment, I put the baby to sleep and began packing our lives into three large suitcases—clothes, documents, formula, and diapers. My mother helped me fold the clothes, her tears silent. I took our wedding portrait out of its frame and tore it down the middle. At eight that evening, my mother and I, carrying our bags and the baby, boarded the train back to our hometown. As the train pulled out of the station and the city lights faded into the dark, a profound peace settled over me. Goodbye, Jordan. Goodbye to this city. I deleted his contact information, our chat history, and every photo of him from my phone. It was like deleting an expired app—clean and final. The morning after we arrived in our hometown, I was awakened by my daughter’s cries before dawn. My mother had risen even earlier, and the kitchen was already warm with the steam of freshly cooked oatmeal. “Go back to sleep, sweetheart. I’ve got her,” my mother said, gently taking the baby from my arms. I looked at my mother’s feet, still swollen and shoved into a pair of oversized slippers, making her limp slightly as she walked. My throat tightened, and I quickly turned to check the stove so she wouldn’t see my tears. “Mom, I’m going to take care of you from now on.” She smiled, chiding me gently. “Nonsense. I’m still strong enough to take care of both of you.” During breakfast, our neighbor Aunt Mabel pushed open the door, holding a bowl of warm custard. “Nell! Oh, my sweet girl, look how thin you’ve gotten!” She set the custard on the table, leaning in to look at the baby. “She looks just like you, beautiful!” Then, lowering her voice, she asked, “Where is Jordan? He didn’t come back with you?” My mother’s hand trembled, nearly dropping her spoon. I offered a calm smile. “Aunt Mabel, we’re getting a divorce.” Aunt Mabel’s mouth fell open. “Divorce? Since when?” “Yesterday.” She looked at me, then at my mother, before slapping her thigh. “Good for you! Why should a young woman endure that kind of misery? You and your mother will do just fine on your own.” She squeezed my hand. “It’s a good thing. Focus on your life now.” I nodded, swallowing a spoonful of warm oatmeal, though my tears made it taste salty. At ten that morning, my phone rang. It was the director from my former employer. “Nell, your request to transfer to our local branch has been approved. You can start next Monday.” I was stunned before realizing that this was the transfer request I had quietly submitted three months ago, right after I discovered Jordan’s phone was filled with photos of Summer—from their college days to recent photos of him picking out handbags for her. Our own photos together numbered exactly three, all taken on our wedding day. I had written the transfer request that very night. I had known our marriage wouldn’t last, though I hadn’t expected him to abandon me so completely during childbirth. My mother walked in carrying fresh laundry. “Who was that, sweetheart?” “The office. They want me to start next week.” My mother looked worried. “So soon? You haven’t fully recovered yet…” “The new role is much easier, standard nine-to-five,” I smiled. “You can watch the baby during the day, and I’ll take over at night so you can rest.” My mother’s eyes grew moist, and she nodded quietly. In the afternoon, I turned on my phone, which had been switched off. Immediately, a deluge of missed calls, texts, and notifications flooded the screen. They were all from Jordan. He had tried calling from several different numbers since nine that morning. The latest text, sent ten minutes prior, read: “Nell, where are you? What is this on my desk? There is a limit to these kinds of jokes.” I let out a cold laugh. A joke? While I was in labor for thirteen hours, he was sharing fresh coconut water with Summer on a Florida beach. As I was wheeled out of delivery, he was tying Summer’s shoes to help her down a trail. He didn’t know his daughter’s birth weight, and he couldn’t even remember her birth date. Now he was calling it a joke. Another message popped up. “Stop this now. I’m coming home this afternoon, and we can name the baby together. Are you angry because I didn’t make it to the hospital? I explained to you, Summer really couldn’t manage without me…” I turned the phone face down on the table. Explanation. He always had an explanation. Every time he hurt me, he had a polished speech ready. “Summer is alone,” “You’re his wife, you should be the bigger person,” “Why are you so petty?” He had said it so often that I had actually started to doubt myself, wondering if I was indeed being unreasonable. It was only when I lay on that delivery table, breathing through the agony, that I finally understood—the person who constantly asks you to be understanding is the person who doesn’t love you at all. In the evening, I took the baby to the porch to get some fresh air. The warm sunlight fell over her face as she slept peacefully. My mother sat beside us on a small stool, peeling peanuts and chatting happily. “Nell, I was thinking, the local schoolteacher’s son…” I couldn’t help but laugh. “Mom, are you already trying to set me up?” My mother’s face turned red. “I… I was just making conversation! I won’t pressure you, I promise.” Our shadows stretched long in the setting sun. I kissed my daughter’s cheek, feeling the heavy burden of the past three years finally lift. But our peace didn’t even last twenty-four hours. At six in the evening, just as dusk was falling, a sudden screech of tires echoed outside our gate. The car door slammed shut with a heavy thud, followed by the sound of hurried, desperate footsteps rushing toward the house. “Nell!” His voice was raw and unrecognizable. Jordan stood in the doorway, his tie askew, his hair a disheveled mess. In his hand, he clutched the divorce papers bearing my signature. The moment our eyes met, he rushed forward frantically and grabbed my hand with a death grip.

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1 My mother was a maid for the Diabys. A drunken accident left her pregnant with me. They discarded her and kept me, treating me as their lifelong shame. The legitimate daughter saw me as a thorn, leading her clique to bully me daily. Derek, the eldest son, beat and cursed me at will. On my eighteenth birthday, he tried forcing me to marry an old man. When I refused, he personally dragged me to that man’s bed. Wayne Ashford kicked the door open. He shielded my trembling body with his coat and fought the entire Diaby family for me. He bought me fine clothes and took me to see the ocean. Whenever I cried about my mother being forced that night she simply passed my father’s room, he kissed my tears away, swearing he believed me. I thought I’d found salvation. With nothing else to give, I offered myself as his birthday gift in the dark. As he coaxed me closer, the lights snapped on. My siblings, classmates, and wealthy heirs all pointed at my disgrace. Wayne tore away the blanket I clutched. “You claimed your mother wasn’t a slut who seduced men,” he sneered. “But you are, aren’t you?” His favor was only a trap to grind me into filth. After crying until I was hollow, I called overseas. “Mom,” I whispered. “I’ll come home.” The glaring white light fell over me, pinning my naked body in place. I was like a cheap product stripped of its packaging, exposed for everyone to inspect. Flashes kept going off. Shutter clicks mixed with filthy laughter. “Oh, isn’t this the Diaby family’s illegitimate daughter? You sure know how to play.” “Wayne, impressive. You could actually stomach this kind of goods?” “Hahaha, the sounds she made just now were so dirty my bones went weak.” Those obscene words pierced my ears like burning needles. I curled up, trying to grab the blanket Wayne had taken away, but my fingers caught only cold air. He stood by the bed, looking down at me. His face held a sarcasm and coldness I had never seen before. I trembled, not from the cold, but from betrayal that had sunk into my bones. “Why?” My voice was dry, like sandpaper scraping my throat. “Wayne Ashford, didn’t you say you would protect me?” He let out a soft laugh. It was colder than winter wind. “Protect you?” He bent down, and with the hands that had once gently stroked my hair, he gripped my chin hard. “A maid’s child thinks she deserves protection?” “Get this straight, Tina. Using someone like you as a toy doesn’t cost anything.” A lazy voice came from the doorway. “Tsk. My dear sister, how are you still so naive?” Derek Diaby leaned against the doorframe, a champagne glass swaying in his hand, his face wearing the smile of someone enjoying a show. That face, which looked somewhat like our father’s, was now full of undisguised malice. “You didn’t really think Wayne went against me for you, did you?” My mind went blank. I could only stare at him. Derek walked in and paced around the bed like he was admiring a trophy. “That’s right, we used to be enemies. Couldn’t stand the sight of each other.” He paused and handed his glass toward Wayne. The two of them clinked glasses softly. The crisp sound of glass against glass rang in my heart like a funeral bell. “But now, Wayne is my real sister’s fiancé. We’ve long since turned from enemies into allies. Strong joined with strong.” Derek’s smile grew worse. “As for you…” He pointed at me from a distance. “You were just a bet between Wayne and me.” “A bet on how long it would take a naive country bumpkin like you to treat her ‘savior’ as her one true love.” “Looks like I won.” Louder laughter burst from the crowd. A girl I remembered from high school, who always followed Sylvia Diaby around, pointed at me and shrieked, “I remember her. That’s her. Back in high school, she wore that washed-out old uniform every day. So ugly.” Someone else immediately joined in. “Right, right. I once saw her hiding in the corner of the cafeteria, eating leftovers. I thought she looked poor and pathetic back then. I didn’t expect she’d dare dream of marrying into wealth.” “Wasn’t her mother that maid who crawled into a man’s bed? Like mother, like daughter. Cheapness runs in the bones.” “Exactly. She really thinks she’s something.” One sentence after another. Every humiliating thing about my past and present, everything I never wanted to look back on, was torn open bloody and spread in front of everyone. Those self-conscious, embarrassing memories I had desperately tried to forget had become their most entertaining jokes. I looked at Wayne. The man who had once told me, I don’t care about your past. I only care about your future. Now, he was laughing with those people, enjoying my collapse. So it wasn’t that he didn’t care about my past. He was simply enjoying the process of personally forcing me back into it. Tears burned in my eyes. But I bit my lip hard and didn’t let them fall. I couldn’t cry here. I couldn’t let them see my final humiliation. Supporting my weak body, I climbed off the bed. Ignoring their probing, contemptuous gazes, I picked up the clothes scattered on the floor and put them on one by one. The laughter in the room gradually quieted, replaced by an eerie silence. Perhaps they hadn’t expected me to remain so calm. I smoothed the last wrinkle from my clothes, straightened my back, and walked step by step out of the suffocating room. The hallway was empty. It was as if it belonged to another world from the debauchery inside. I leaned against the cold wall, took out my phone, and dialed a number I knew by heart with trembling fingers. The call rang for a long time before it connected. A gentle female voice came from the other end. “Tina?” It was my mother. Years ago, she had married overseas. Her husband was a wealthy man who treated her with respect, and she became his lawful wife. More than once, she had offered to bring me to her, even to have me adopted under her husband’s name so I could become a legitimate daughter. But I had refused. I didn’t want to burden her. I didn’t want to make her life difficult in her new family because of me. Back then, she had only sighed and said, “All right. Mom respects you. But remember, whenever you want to come back, Mom will come take you home.” I had once thought I would never make this call. But now, I truly couldn’t hold on anymore. “Mom, I agree to come back to you.” The moment I spoke, my voice broke. The other end was silent for a few seconds. She didn’t ask what had happened. She didn’t ask why I was crying. She only said in a voice so steady and reassuring, “Okay.” One word. Yet it was like a pair of warm hands reaching across the ocean, holding up the version of me that was about to collapse. “Tina, send me your address.” “I’ll have your brother pick you up.” I ended the call. That last okay was like a lifesaving straw dropped into the deep sea where I was drowning. Just as I put away my phone, the door behind me opened. Sylvia Diaby, my so-called half-sister, stood leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed. Her exquisitely made-up face was filled with undisguised mockery. “Oh, isn’t this our family’s little pitiful thing?” “What, couldn’t help crying to your maid mother?” Her voice was sharp and thin, like nails scraping glass. I gripped my phone tightly. I didn’t want conflict right now. I only wanted to leave. Immediately. Seeing that I didn’t speak, she grew more interested and walked toward me step by step in her heels. “Why aren’t you talking? Cat got your tongue?” “Let me tell you, crying is useless. What can a lowborn thing like your mother teach you besides climbing into men’s beds?” She stopped in front of me and looked me up and down condescendingly, as if looking at garbage. “Oh, right.” As if suddenly remembering something, she covered her mouth and laughed. “She can teach you how to seduce men harder.” “After all, that’s the ancestral craft of you mother and daughter, isn’t it?” My knuckles turned white around my phone. A metallic taste rose in my throat. But I held it back. I told myself I was about to leave this hell. There was no need to argue with a mad dog. I turned sideways, wanting to walk around her. But she had no intention of letting me go. Smack. With a crisp sound, she slapped my phone out of my hand. It hit the wall and fell to the floor. The screen instantly shattered into cracks, like my already-broken heart. “I’m talking to you. Are you deaf?” Her voice suddenly rose, sharp and piercing. I looked at the black, dead object on the floor. It was the first smartphone my mother had bought me after saving money for a long time. I bent down, wanting to pick it up. Even if it was broken, I wanted to take it with me. Just as my fingertips were about to touch the remains of the phone, a rhinestone-studded pointed heel kicked my shoulder hard. The force made me lose balance, and I tumbled awkwardly onto the floor. The cold marble pressed against my cheek. I looked up. Sylvia stood there, looking down at me from above, a proud, cruel smile on her face. This scene was exactly like all those times in childhood when she and her friends pinned me to the ground and bullied me. So after all these years, I was still the pitiful worm lying on the floor, looking up at her. “Oh, sister, what are you doing? Such a grand bow?” Derek’s voice came from not far away, carrying his usual nauseating frivolity. A group of men and women surrounded him, all watching the show. They looked at me lying on the floor like a monkey in a zoo. “Still haven’t left? Thick-skinned, aren’t you?” Derek raised his brows and sauntered over. Someone in the crowd whistled obscenely at me. “What, not going to lift your skirt and let us see again?” “Tsk. Only letting Wayne see? That won’t do.” Filthy teasing rose one after another. Sylvia exaggeratedly covered her ears, full of disgust. “You’re dirtying my ears.” Then she turned and intimately hooked her arm through Wayne’s, who had appeared behind her at some point. “Wayne, let’s ignore this dirty thing. Where do you want to eat tonight?” Her voice instantly turned sweet and coquettish. The crowd immediately began cheering. “Candlelit dinner! Candlelit dinner!” “Kiss! Kiss!” Amid the noise, I saw Wayne smile. He lowered his head and looked at Sylvia, tenderness almost spilling from his eyes. He said, “Whatever you want.” Those three words were like three poisoned blades thrust into my heart. They left arm in arm, followed by the jeering crowd, leaving only a beautiful and cold silhouette behind. The vast hallway soon held only me, Derek, and a few of his followers who hadn’t left. Derek clearly had no intention of letting me go. He walked up to me and kicked my arm with the tip of his shoe. “See that?” “Only someone like my sister is worthy of Wayne Ashford.” He crouched down, gripped my chin, and forced me to look up. “What are you? A bastard born from a maid, and you dare dream?” His eyes were cold, like a snake flicking its tongue. “Behave yourself from now on.” He let go of my face, stood, and brushed off nonexistent dust. Before leaving, he casually waved at the remaining men like he was ordering servants. “She’s yours.” “Play as you like.” The men immediately revealed malicious smiles. They closed in on me step by step, like hyenas that had smelled blood. I struggled to get up, but one of them stepped on my back and pinned me to the floor. “Why run? Your brother gave you to us.” “Let us have some fun.” A hand shoved me roughly. Flashes lit up, accompanied by shutter clicks and excited howls. Cold, sticky hands wandered. I fought desperately, only to be met with harder punches and kicks. “Bitch. Still moving?” “Ungrateful trash.” Curses and beating sounds mixed together. I felt like my bones were about to break. My consciousness blurred beneath endless pain and humiliation. I didn’t know how long passed before they seemed to get tired of playing. I was dragged like a broken rag doll. My hands and feet were tied roughly, and some unknown cloth was stuffed into my mouth. Finally, the wardrobe door opened. I was shoved inside heavily. Bang. The door shut. The world sank into complete darkness and silence. I didn’t know how long I had been locked inside the wardrobe. When the door opened and blinding light rushed in, I could barely open my eyes. The first thing I saw was my father’s dignified face. Derek and Sylvia stood behind him, waiting to enjoy the show. I rarely saw my father. In this family, he was a symbol, a representation of power, not a father. I didn’t hold much hope that he would punish his precious children for me. But surely he would at least scold them a little. After all, I was his child too. But he only calmly swept his gaze over my miserable state, then turned to Derek and Sylvia. “You went too far.” There was not a trace of warmth in his voice. “If the photos get out, the family’s reputation will be affected. Be more restrained next time.” Then he glanced at me. His eyes were full of undisguised disgust. As if I were a filthy object that brought him shame. Then he turned and left. He didn’t look at me again. My heart sank completely. So he didn’t not know. He knew everything. He had merely allowed it. No. He had indulged it. My father’s support became Derek and Sylvia’s strongest backing. The smugness on their faces could no longer be hidden. Sylvia grabbed me out of the wardrobe with so much force that I staggered. She took out her phone and opened the album in front of me. Inside were photos of me being humiliated yesterday. “Don’t want these photos spread, do you?” Her smile was sweet and vicious. I looked at those humiliating images and nodded in shame again and again. “Sure.” Sylvia sneered. “Then curse your mother in front of us.” “Each curse, I delete one photo.” “No repeats.” I bit my lower lip hard and refused to speak. Seeing this, Derek said nothing and simply swung his fist. Bang. One punch landed on my face. The taste of blood instantly filled my mouth. A tooth mixed with blood fell onto the floor. “Ungrateful thing. Are you going to curse or not?” They continued pressing me. I shook my head. Then fists and slaps rained down on me. Again. And again. Only when they got tired did they finally stop. I lay on the floor, my whole body in pain, my consciousness beginning to drift. Under my hopeless gaze, Sylvia uploaded the photos one by one to social media. As if that wasn’t enough, she shoved the phone screen in front of me and read the filthy comments beneath them one by one. “Haha, look at this one. Says you must be good in bed.” “This one is even better. Asking how much for one night.” “Tsk, tsk, Tina, you’re famous now.” Those filthy words hurt me more than their fists ever could. “Had enough?” A cool voice sounded from the doorway. It was Wayne. He leaned against the doorframe, his expression faint. “Uncle just warned you, and you’ve already forgotten?” “When he comes back, I’m afraid he’ll be unhappy.” Derek and Sylvia looked at each other. Their excitement finally faded a little. Only then did they stop. But before leaving, Sylvia still unwillingly found rope and tied my hands and feet. “Before we come back tonight, stay here obediently.” “If you dare run, I’ll break your legs.” With that, the three of them left together, laughing and harmonious. The door shut. The room returned to dead silence. Only I remained, bound and abandoned on the cold floor. I didn’t wait to die. I wriggled my body little by little toward the desk. Using the sharp corner, I began grinding the rope around my wrists. Once. Twice. My skin tore, blood seeping out, burning painfully. But I didn’t stop. Five whole hours. Just as I thought the bones in my wrists would be ground apart, the rope finally snapped. I broke free. I had to leave this hell. I stumbled out of the house. After so much torture and blood loss, my consciousness had already started to blur. Just as I reached the entrance, my legs weakened, and I was about to fall. But I fell into a warm embrace. “Don’t be afraid.” A gentle male voice sounded above my head. “I’m taking you home.” I struggled to raise my head and saw his face clearly. It was Everett Lin. My stepfather’s eldest son, the publicly acknowledged sole heir of the Lin family. At that moment, a sharp female voice tore through that brief warmth. “Oh, Tina, found another man to seduce already?” Sylvia and Wayne had returned. She looked Everett up and down. Seeing that he was unfamiliar, she naturally assumed he was some lowly nobody. “Where did you find this lover? He looks decent enough.” She spoke with contempt. “Two lowborn things together. What a perfect match.” But beside her, the moment Wayne saw Everett’s face clearly, his entire body went stiff.

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