Author: Momo Chan

I had a secret crush on Jack Sullivan for seven years. In my previous life, I saved him during his darkest hour. I married him and was willing to be a devoted wife. I let him run my company, allowing him to bask in the limelight. In the end, he stole my money and cheated on me with his soulmate. Later, his enemies kidnapped both me and his soulmate. I thought five years of living together would soften his heart. But he chose to save his soulmate without hesitation, leaving me to be assaulted and killed by the kidnappers. In this new life, I’ve returned to the year when Jack Sullivan hit rock bottom. My car was parked at the end of the alley, just in time to witness Jack Sullivan being chased by several men in black wielding knives. It was exactly the same as in my previous life. I suppressed the complex emotions surging within me. “Uncle Tom, drive,” I said. Uncle Tom cleared his throat, hesitating. “Miss, Mr. Sullivan is up ahead. It looks like someone’s trying to kill him.” I glanced ahead. Jack Sullivan was indeed being chased and had collapsed in front of my car door, covered in wounds. He desperately knocked on the car door, begging me to help him. The door opened. I looked down at him from above. My mind flashed back to my previous life, when I had saved him without hesitation and married him, caring for him devotedly for five years. I had thought true love could be reciprocated. But in the end, I met a tragic death. Coming back to my senses, looking at him now, I still couldn’t help but feel a pang in my heart. His handsome face, even covered in blood, couldn’t hide his good looks. He crawled to my feet, looking up at me with pleading eyes. Weakly, he said, “Mia, please help me. I’ll do anything.” In my previous life, he had begged me just as pitifully. I had taken him in without a second thought. I fed and cared for him, paid ransom to save his brother, and protected him for five years. Thinking it over, I slowly replied, “Alright.” I would save him, but I couldn’t let him dirty my car. I kicked him away. I ordered my bodyguards to protect him. “Uncle Tom, let’s go,” I said. “Miss, isn’t Mr. Sullivan the man you’ve liked for a long time?” Uncle Tom asked. I snorted. “Not anymore.” In my previous life, when I saved him, I didn’t expect anything in return. I only hoped he could like me, even just a little. Unfortunately, it didn’t end well. Back at the mansion, I saw Jack Sullivan curled up in a corner, shivering. He crawled towards me like a dog. I brushed off my pants where he had touched them. Looking at him with disgust, I said, “Jack Sullivan, since you like being a dog so much, why don’t you stay by my side as one?”

Today was the first time Jack asked me for time off. “Mia, I have something to do today. I won’t be able to have dinner with you,” he said calmly over the phone, without any hint of emotion. “What is it?” I asked. “Mia, I may be your husband in name, but I’m still a person. Can’t I have my own personal space?” “You don’t deserve it,” I replied coldly. “If you don’t listen, I can send you back to those people.” He immediately deflated on the other end of the line. In this life, I still saved him, but I had no expectations. I only kept him by my side to torment him. He sighed and answered, “I’m going to see my mother.” “Is that so? You’d better not be lying to me.” When I saved him and brought him back, he had begged me like a puppy. “I’ll do anything you want,” he had said. An idea struck me, and I raised an eyebrow with a smile. “Marry me, so my family stops nagging me.” He agreed. I paid the ransom to save his brother, And at the same time, I bought him for myself. To the outside world, I claimed he was my husband. In private, he was just a dog by my bedside. His enemies still wouldn’t let him go, so he had to rely on me to stay alive. This time, I still bound him to me with a contract. The agreement stated that we would each take what we needed, and after five years when the danger had passed, I would set him free. For these five years, he never left my side for a moment. Whether as a husband or a bedmate, he was impeccable. At dinner time, Jack wasn’t there. The housekeeper had prepared my favorite dishes. I picked up my fork but had no appetite. “Miss, this is the cake Mr. Sullivan asked me to give you before he left. He waited in line for hours to buy it,” Mrs. Liu said, bringing over a slice of cake. It was my favorite flavor, very hard to get. I took a bite with my fork, then threw it straight into the trash. Suddenly, I felt a bit lost. Today was my birthday. Thinking back to my previous life, it was just as lonely a scene. That day, he had gone to see his soulmate, Sophia Williams. As I was lost in thought, my phone suddenly rang. “Hello,” I answered. On the other end was an arrogant female voice.

“Miss Coleman, thank you for taking care of my Jack these past five years.” I frowned deeply. “Who are you?” “Never mind who I am. Jack loves me.” Before I could finish, she hung up. I collapsed onto the sofa, my mind replaying the past from my previous life. Jack had been with me for five years, pretending to be devoted to me on the surface, but behind my back, he had long been involved with Sophia Williams. In my past life, I had spent five years trying to make him love me, but failed. This time, I wouldn’t be so foolish. If I couldn’t be happy, no one else would be either. I was the most notorious socialite in Southriver. Dissolute, unrepentant. I had been with countless men, living a life of luxury and pleasure. But they were all just passing clouds. Jack Sullivan was the only one I truly loved. He used to be a young master from a family of equal status to mine, but unfortunate twists of fate had brought him to rock bottom. I dialed Jack’s number. “Where are you?” I asked. His voice sounded tired. “I’m busy.” “Are you with another woman?” I asked, my voice trembling. “Mia, don’t overthink it.” I suddenly became angry, raising my voice, which startled him. “I’m asking you, are you with another woman or not?!” “Jack Sullivan!” He sighed and spoke in a tone I had never heard before. “Mia Coleman, I thought we only had a contractual relationship. My private life is none of your business.” I was both furious and hurt, at a loss for words. “You said it yourself, five years was the limit.” “Mia Coleman, shouldn’t we follow the rules of the game?” In this life, I had treated men’s hearts as worthless. I thought I could play with men as I pleased. But once again, I was slapped in the face by reality. I lowered my voice, adding somewhat pitifully: “Today… is my birthday.” “Could you…” Before I could finish, he hung up. Even in this new life, Jack Sullivan was still just as cruel.

In my previous life, I had investigated Sophia Williams. She was my high school classmate, and we were very close back then. She was the only one who knew about my secret crush on Jack Sullivan. Later, she went abroad to study, and we lost touch. I never imagined she would turn out to be Jack’s soulmate. In this life, as soon as the five-year term was up, Jack stopped pretending with me. He moved out of my mansion overnight, throwing away the ring I had given him. The trash can in his room was filled with gifts I had once given him. Even during our last intimate moment, I was the one who initiated everything. The last thing he said to me was: “Don’t make things difficult for her.” Those five simple words set me on edge. “Are you really that eager to leave me?” I asked. He turned his back to me, his voice low and hoarse: “Mia Coleman, we were never meant to be together.” For many days after he left, I couldn’t sleep. The night was bitterly cold in the early hours. I stubbornly drove out of the mansion. Mrs. Liu heard the commotion and tried to stop me. “Miss, should I call the driver? It’s too late for you to drive alone. Where are you going?” I didn’t know what to say. I cleared my throat. After a moment of silence, I said, “Mrs. Liu, it’s fine. I have something to do.” Mrs. Liu couldn’t persuade me, so she called the driver to follow behind me. At 5:30 AM, I arrived at Jack’s apartment.

I knocked on the door, but there was no response for a long time. I thought he must be sound asleep and was about to leave to find a place to wait. Suddenly, the door opened. “Mia?” Jack opened the door, looking at me in disbelief, his eyes still heavy with sleep. As if on cue, a figure appeared behind him. Sophia Williams, wearing a sexy nightgown, had one hand on Jack’s arm. “Jack, who is it?” she asked, turning to look at me with a meaningful gaze. “Long time no see, I’m Mia Coleman,” I introduced myself. After my introduction, all three of us stood there in awkward silence. “You investigated me?” Jack finally spoke, his tone full of impatience and accusation. I had thought Jack would have a lot to say to me. But his first words were an irritated question. My heart sank. Looking into his eyes, I asked slowly and deliberately: “I just want to ask you one thing: during these five years, did you ever love me?” Sophia’s expression changed. She clung to Jack’s arm affectionately, her voice dripping with sarcasm: “Miss Coleman, Jack has told me everything. You did save his life, and he’s repaid that debt over the years. Now that the five years are up, shouldn’t you let him go?” “Besides, it was just a contractual relationship. Miss Coleman, don’t tell me you actually thought it was love?” “Shut up! I wasn’t asking you!” I raised my voice, startling Sophia. “Jack, look at her. What kind of person is she, bullying me just because she’s rich,” Sophia said, burying herself in Jack’s arms pitifully. “Mia, no, Miss Coleman,” Jack said. “The five-year term is up. We should go to the registry office to finalize the divorce soon.” Without needing to ask further, Jack had made his stance clear. “Fine! Don’t regret it!” I said, leaving in a huff. Behind me, I could hear Sophia’s mocking laughter. “Jack, after all these years, you still have such charm. Looks like I’ll have to keep a close eye on you from now on.” I couldn’t hear Jack’s response as I walked away. I returned home in a daze.

The next day, we went to the registry office to finalize our divorce. I rushed back to the mansion and cleared out everything related to Jack Sullivan. Then I contacted my assistant. “I hear Jack Sullivan is starting a business soon. Cut off his funding sources, remove him from the company, blacklist him in the industry, and have him sign an IOU for the $500,000 we paid to ransom his brother.” “Also, spread rumors that the Williams heiress seduced a married man. Make sure her reputation is ruined.” “Lastly, what’s the latest on the Sullivan family’s old enemy, the Guthrie family?” My assistant replied, “I heard they’ve been looking for Jack Sullivan everywhere.” “Then leak information to the Guthrie family. Let them handle it as they see fit.” After making all the arrangements, I finally lay down on my bed with some peace of mind. My sister rarely called me, but she did today. “Mia Coleman, congratulations on being able to be yourself again.” “Sis, I just got divorced. Is congratulations really necessary?” “Men are a dime a dozen. I’m coming back tomorrow night at 10. I’ll introduce you to some men then.” My sister is my mom’s daughter from her previous marriage. People say she’s just like me, inheriting our mother’s genes. They say we’re unfaithful, fickle, and like to play with men. I’ve become numb to hearing it. As soon as my sister arrived, she dragged me to a bar. She complained about my outfit the whole way there. “Look at you, did getting married turn you into a housewife?” she said. She pulled out a black low-cut long dress from her bag and coaxed me into wearing it. “Now that’s my sister,” she said approvingly. “Mia Coleman, you’re a rich kid. Why act so traditional? You used to be quite the party animal.” I rolled my eyes at her. “Vanessa Coleman, is this how you’re supposed to guide your little sister?” “Haha, don’t tell Mom,” she laughed. In my previous life, when I was Jack Sullivan’s devoted wife, I never went to bars. It was because Jack said he didn’t like noisy places like bars. “I heard there are some pretty good-looking guys here tonight. It’s my treat, I’ve ordered them all for you,” Vanessa said. “Consider it a celebration of your single status, and a belated birthday party.” The memory of eating cake alone on my birthday flashed through my mind, leaving a bitter taste. But I quickly pushed it away. Thinking about that scene really put a damper on things. My sister was hugging two young, handsome guys, laughing heartily. The boy sitting next to me was very shy, but he mustered up the courage to say: “Hello, beautiful. You’re really pretty.” His words were naive, but I enjoyed hearing them.

He clumsily lifted the glass to my lips. I wasn’t paying attention, and the cold liquor trickled down the corner of my mouth onto his well-defined fingers. He shivered, looking at me somewhat embarrassedly. His eyes held an indescribable emotion. In the dim light, his tall, muscular frame was barely visible, but I couldn’t take my eyes off him. As we were leaving, I tossed a business card to the handsome young man. He called out “Big sis!” and waved goodbye reluctantly. “We’ll meet again,” he said. I’ve never been good with alcohol, but tonight I had a few extra drinks. As soon as I stepped outside, the cold wind hit me, and I stumbled. My sister had disappeared with one of the guys, leaving me alone to stumble back to the bathroom. I hugged the toilet bowl and threw up for a while, which cleared my head a bit. A familiar voice came from the next stall. “Sophia, I heard your ex-boyfriend got divorced?” Sophia Williams let out a cold laugh and said: “Yeah, if I hadn’t heard he inherited his grandfather’s hundred-billion-dollar fortune, who would bother with used goods like him?” “True, Sophia, you’ve never been one to use second-hand things.” I stayed hidden in the bathroom stall. In my previous life, I never heard about Jack Sullivan inheriting a fortune. Could he be using this to win back his true love? There was another possibility – the so-called inheritance could be my money. I was such a fool. Thankfully, in this life, I didn’t let him into the company. And I didn’t give him a penny. I only gave him a small allowance each month, out of pity. The gossip continued. Sophia chuckled and went on: “But now there’s a tricky problem. His ex-wife turns out to be Mia Coleman.” “Who? Your high school bestie? I remember she had a crush on Jack Sullivan back then.” “That bitch Mia Coleman, whatever she wants, I have to take it from her,” Sophia said through gritted teeth. Back then, Sophia was our high school beauty queen, stunningly gorgeous even at sixteen. I was quiet and unsociable. She approached me, giving me my only friend in high school. When I liked Jack Sullivan, she encouraged me to persist. Sophia was outgoing and straightforward. She helped me gather a lot of intel on Jack Sullivan back then. At that time, rumors were flying around school that the beauty queen Sophia Williams and the heartthrob Jack Sullivan were getting close, and must be dating.

Everyone said they were a perfect match, made for each other. I had imagined Jack Sullivan might fall for someone else, but I never thought my best friend would also like him. I don’t know how long I stayed in the bathroom, but Sophia and her friend had long gone silent. I stood up and walked out, my feet numb and stumbling. I looked at myself in the mirror, red-eyed and disheveled. I washed my face and prepared to go home. As soon as I walked out the main door, I found the handsome young man from earlier standing at the entrance. “You…” The young man was wearing a sporty outfit and carrying a gym bag. He exuded the sunny charm of a college athlete. “Waiting for you,” he said. As I walked over, my high heel twisted and I nearly fell. “Careful!” The young man caught me just in time. I took out a wad of cash from my purse and handed it to him. He hesitated, then took it and stuffed it back into my bag. “Big sis, no need for money.” I narrowed my eyes slightly and smiled: “Consider it a tip for keeping me company today.” Before I could see his expression, I took out my car keys to open the door. But he snatched the keys from me. “I haven’t been drinking. I’ll drive you home.” I was taken aback for a moment, then pulled out a few more bills from my purse and handed them to him. He took them this time, saying with a smile: “Consider it a chauffeur fee.” He drove very carefully the whole way, occasionally stealing glances at me through the rearview mirror. “Big sis, my name is Ethan Guthrie.” My head was spinning, so I just responded lazily. “Mmm, got it.” I closed my eyes and unknowingly fell asleep. When I opened my eyes, I found myself…

“Where am I?” I rubbed my throbbing temples. A cheerful male voice came from outside the door. “Big sis, you’re awake?” The voice sounded familiar. It was Ethan. He was shirtless, his skin taut, broad-shouldered with a narrow waist. His muscle lines flowed smoothly, and his lean body somehow sported an eight-pack. I was mesmerized for a moment, not even noticing him getting closer. “Big sis, seen enough?” I blushed furiously. “I didn’t expect someone with such a baby face to have such a great body.” Ethan grinned mischievously and pulled me into his arms. “So, big sis, have you decided how you’re going to take responsibility for me?” I panicked, desperately trying to remember what happened last night. Last night I met him at the bar entrance, then he drove me home, and I fell asleep in the car… So why was I here? “Let me help you remember. You fell asleep last night without telling me where you lived, so I had no choice but to bring you back to my place.” “Did we… you know?” Ethan leaned in close, his gaze intense: “What do you think?” My mind was in chaos. Suddenly, I remembered feeling that something was off about the drink last night. Usually, my alcohol tolerance isn’t bad. I shouldn’t have gotten drunk so quickly. “It must have been Vanessa.” I frantically took out my phone and called her. “Vanessa! You set me up!” A lazy male voice answered. “Vanessa is still sleeping. What do you need?” “Damn it…” The call ended, and Ethan, standing in front of me, burst out laughing. “Big sis, you were drugged. Last night was my first time.” “It’s okay if you don’t remember. I’ll help you recall.” Ethan pressed me down beneath him.

Looking closely, beneath his boyish charm, he had a pair of incredibly cold eyes. His facial features were flawlessly handsome, with lips so red they begged to be kissed. Coming to my senses, I found myself breathless from the intimate position. I pushed him away and cleared my throat. “Ahem… Well, we’re both adults here. If you’re in this line of work, let’s just settle up.” I took out a black card from my purse and handed it to him. “This is your payment.” With that, I got up to change my clothes. “Big sis, the name you called out last night, was it your ex-husband?” My heart skipped a beat, and I clenched my fists. “Shut up!” “I don’t mind. If big sis needs me again, just give me a call anytime.” He made a phone gesture by his ear, a faint smile tugging at his lips. As I left Ethan’s apartment, I ran into Jack Sullivan downstairs. I lowered my head and covered my mouth, afraid he’d see me. “Mia Coleman!” He strode over. Dressed in an all-black suit, he exuded an air of aggression. “What are you doing here?” I composed myself and stood up straight. “It’s none of your business.” He grabbed my bag, pulling me closer. “Who said you could stay out all night? Where were you last night?” Jack’s tone was displeased. “Jack Sullivan, we’re divorced,” I said with a cold laugh. “I’m single now. I can stay wherever I want.” “Mia, I know you’re still angry, but can you not misunderstand me? Sophia has been suffering from depression recently and needs someone with her. She doesn’t have any family in the country, so as her…” “As her ex-boyfriend, you should divorce your wife and be by her side 24/7!”

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My best friend Genevieve invited me to go mountain climbing, but to our shock, we were caught in an avalanche. I risked my life for Genevieve and ended up losing my sight. Out of the blue, my childhood friend Vaughn proposed to me, vowing to care for me forever. I believed it was a sign of love until I overheard a conversation between Vaughn and Genevieve. “Vaughn, it’s my fault. If I hadn’t insisted on playing in that snowy area, the avalanche wouldn’t have happened, and Mia wouldn’t have been hit by the debris.” “And you wouldn’t have rushed to get me to the hospital, causing her blindness.” “Genevieve, don’t feel guilty about her.” “Isn’t this because she loves extreme challenges and wanted to climb the snowy mountain?” “I’ve agreed to marry her. That’s the biggest compensation I can offer.” Was all this really my own doing? But he doesn’t know I have a terminal illness and won’t live long… In the hospital room, I heard Vaughn and Genevieve’s voices. Genevieve’s voice was sweet, “Vaughn, you’re so kind, but what if Mia finds out?” “Her mom is the CEO of Hahn Corporation, while my mom is merely a servant in their house. If her mom finds out, she’ll kill me!” Vaughn replied calmly, stroking her forehead, “Don’t worry, I told her mom I’m taking her on a trip.” “She won’t know. Besides, Mia has already fallen out with her mom.” “She willingly gave up her inheritance to work as a nanny in my house for me. How could she dare to contact her mom?” “And I should thank her mom! Thanks to her investment, my company was revived, and she sent many clients my way. Yet, Mia, that fool, still knows nothing.” Outside the door, my legs went weak, and tears silently fell. In one night, the two people I loved most betrayed me. Just hours ago, Vaughn had proposed to me, promising to protect me for life. It seems all this was just his ulterior motive, and I naively thought he was finally moved by me. A few days ago, Genevieve accompanied me for a check-up, and the usually healthy me was suddenly diagnosed with end-stage renal disease, with only five months left. Genevieve felt sorry for me and suggested planning a unique farewell trip. I took her advice and decided to climb the snowy mountain. “Be careful, everyone. Don’t climb that steep slope; it could trigger an avalanche.” Years of adventure experience told me that the steep slope was dangerous. I kindly warned them, but Genevieve insisted on going up, and Vaughn let her. The snow started to slide. Realizing the danger, I rushed and pulled them to safety. The avalanche hit. Without regard for my own life, I shielded Genevieve. Before passing out, I saw Vaughn’s panicked expression. He tightly hugged the unconscious Genevieve, crying for help, and didn’t even notice me being buried worse nearby. With all my remaining strength, I screamed for Vaughn’s help. All I got was his cold response: “Genevieve is more seriously injured. I’ll save her first. The rescue team will come for you soon.” He carried Genevieve away, leaving me buried for hours, blood streaming from my forehead. I heavily passed out. Little did I know that was the last time I would see him. If I had received timely treatment, my eyes might not have gone blind. Supporting myself against the wall, I hurriedly stood up, only to fall into a warm embrace. A familiar scent wafted over—unique to Genevieve! “Mia, are you okay? Why are you here?” Vaughn’s voice was gentle and caring. If I didn’t know the truth, I might have believed he loved me. “Don’t worry. I’ve contacted a doctor to find a suitable cornea for you. You’ll recover soon!” “Once you do, we’ll get married, and you’ll see the fairytale wedding I’ve prepared for you.” But I won’t make it. The avalanche took a toll on my body, and I don’t have much time left. If you knew I wouldn’t live long, would you feel sorry for me? Maybe once, but now your eyes are only for Genevieve. I pushed away from Vaughn’s embrace, speaking softly, “Okay, I want to return to the hospital room to rest.”

Back in the room, they also left. Unfamiliar with the darkness, I had to ask a nurse to set my phone to blind mode. The moment I learned I was blind was scarier than the day I found out I only had five months left. Step by step, I learned how to use my phone, following the voice-over instructions. Even booking a ticket took me half an hour, but I finally managed to get a ticket to go home in a month. At that moment, I missed my mom so much. I should have listened to her and not left her side. I shouldn’t have given up everything for someone who never loved me. I stayed in the hospital for a few days until a nurse urged me to leave, but Vaughn never came. I haphazardly packed my things and took a cab back to Vaughn’s house. I didn’t know my way around, using my guide cane in the hospital while the driver called me numerous times. He kept urging me to get in the car, saying I was taking too long. I could only repeatedly apologize, hoping for his patience. But once he knew I was blind, he cursed at me. “Damn, blind fool, wasting my time. You should’ve said you couldn’t see earlier, making me waste time on this job.” Then the phone announced the driver had canceled the ride. Feeling helpless, I curled up in a corner, feeling the injustice of fate. I hadn’t done anything wrong, yet why did misfortune keep finding me? Tears streamed down my face. Suddenly, a hand gently wiped my tears away, and a voice full of concern said, “Mia, what happened? Did Vaughn bully you?” The voice sounded like Jasper, a childhood friend who grew up with Vaughn, Genevieve, and me. I reached for his hand, holding it tightly, leaning on his shoulder as I broke down. I told him everything, detailed and honest. His words shot out like bullets, full of anger. “He dared to treat you like this? I’m going to find him and get an explanation!” I held him back, “Forget it, I don’t have much time left.” When Jasper learned about my renal disease, his tears fell on my hand, and I heard his choked voice. He promised to find a suitable cornea and kidney for me and took me home. I unlocked the door with my fingerprint, slowly walking inside. Halfway through, I heard the sound of smacking lips and familiar man’s gasps reaching my ears. I slammed my guide stick heavily on the ground, feeling my way forward. They finally heard me. Genevieve walked up and took my hand. “Mia, you’re back. Why didn’t you call us?” Her tone made it seem like they were the family, and I was the outsider. But this house was bought by my mom out of concern for me. Back when Vaughn’s family faced bankruptcy, and Vaughn was penniless, I pitied him and let him move in with me. I don’t know when it had become Vaughn’s house. Vaughn awkwardly said, “It’s good you’re back. I’ll make dinner. You girls can chat.” Once Vaughn left, Genevieve disdainfully let go of my hand. “Mia, why did you come back? You don’t have many days left. Why come back to dirty my eyes?” “What bad luck!”

My once gentle best friend Genevieve now showed her true colors. She was so eager for my death. I’m such a fool to see the true colors of these two beasts now. “Were you disappointed I didn’t die in the avalanche?” “I’m curious; you used to like Jasper. Why do you now like Vaughn?” Genevieve laughed lightly, “Of course, because Vaughn has money now.” “Jasper is just a poor doctor. What future does he have? But Vaughn, having revived Vaughn Enterprises, is someone worth loving.” I see. Genevieve was a self-serving opportunist from the start, and Vaughn was just a stepping stone for her climb. “Anyway, you won’t live long. For old times’ sake, I won’t mind you staying here, but don’t push it, or else…” Vaughn interrupted us, “Dinner’s ready.” I couldn’t believe Vaughn would cook. In all the years I pursued him, he never cooked, and I willingly served him like a maid. But he cooked for Genevieve. I couldn’t help but bitterly smile as I slowly descended the stairs. Genevieve was already downstairs, eating. I groped around the dining table, taking five minutes to find the small kitchen. During those five minutes, Vaughn didn’t help me. All I heard was their chewing. And then my stomach embarrassingly growled. It prompted Genevieve’s mockery. “Vaughn, look, isn’t Mia funny? She got tired and hungry just looking for a place to eat.” Vaughn said, “What a waste. Can’t even find a chair to sit on just because she’s blind.” Vaughn impatiently said, “Walk five steps forward, and you’re there.” Once I sat down, I heard them moving their chairs to leave. They finished eating, and when I picked up my chopsticks and fumbled for food, the plates were already empty. My stomach grumbled loudly at that moment, breaking the silence. Genevieve laughed at the sound. “Vaughn, isn’t it amusing how Mia got so tired and hungry just from looking for a place to eat?” Vaughn chimed in impatiently, “What a waste. Just because you’re blind doesn’t mean you can’t find a chair to sit on.” He continued brusquely, “Walk five steps forward, and you’ll be there.” Once I managed to sit down, I heard them pushing their chairs back to leave. They had finished eating, and when I reached for food with my chopsticks, the plates were empty. They had cleared everything, leaving me only plain white rice. I ate the rice, tears silently falling as I did. Then, the phone rang. “Hello, Mia, I’ve found a cornea for you. I’ll pick you up for surgery tomorrow!” Hearing this wonderful news, I cried tears of joy, feeling like fate was giving me one last chance to see the world before I died. Choking up, I said, “Thank you, Jasper.” Genevieve suddenly appeared beside me. “Mia, Vaughn and I have a business trip coming up. Take care of yourself, okay?” “Yeah, don’t wander off. I’ll arrange for a nanny to look after you.” It was a blessing in disguise. I didn’t want Vaughn to know about my surgery. If he knew, he would prevent me from going. He had promised a grand wedding once I could see, but if I remained blind, he wouldn’t have to marry me, right? I agreed casually. I stayed in the villa all afternoon, but the nanny never came. I couldn’t help but mock myself. Vaughn probably never intended to hire a nanny for me. Using the phone’s voice assistant, I tried to order food delivery. But the villa area wasn’t within the delivery range. I went to bed hungry, just hoping tomorrow would come quickly. Early the next morning, Jasper came to pick me up. In the silent car, my stomach growled again, but Jasper didn’t say anything. After getting out, he took me to a restaurant to eat before heading to the hospital. Jasper accompanied me for tests, and while waiting for the results, the doctor came with bad news. “Sorry, another patient has already used the cornea. You’ll have to come back another time.” I felt like a snuffed-out candle, all light gone from my eyes. Jasper burst out, “Dr. Ashley, how could this happen? You promised it to me!” Dr. Ashley lowered her voice, “Jasper, I know, but that person is a major investor in our hospital. We can’t afford to offend them!” “Just wait a bit longer. I’ll let you know as soon as another one becomes available.” Jasper’s voice was sharp and urgent, “Tell me who it is, and I’ll sort it out!” The commotion drew a crowd, and surprisingly, Vaughn was among them. “What’s going on? Jasper, why did you bring Mia here?”

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I turned my back on Lucas Grant during his darkest hour, falling into the arms of his sworn enemy. Yet Lucas humbled himself to the dust, begging me not to leave him. Nestled in another man’s embrace, I poured half a glass of wine over his head, my smile dripping with scorn and contempt: “Let me go. I’m sick of being chased by debt collectors every day.” Utterly devastated, he left in disgrace. Five years later, Lucas Grant made a triumphant comeback as a prominent overseas business tycoon. On his first day back in the country, he brought his dream girl to settle scores with me. But what he didn’t know was that I had already died, on the very day he and his dream girl went public with their relationship. Lucas Grant was back in the country. I hid in a dark alley, peering out with my one good eye at the LED screen on the skyscraper across the street. On the screen, Lucas was holding hands with Aria Sullivan, the reigning pop queen, preparing for an interview. The flash of cameras seemed too bright, causing Aria to blink uncomfortably. Lucas instinctively shielded her, then calmly answered the reporters’ questions below. My heart felt like it had been stung, aching slightly. He used to protect me like that when debt collectors came looking for trouble. Everything was proceeding as usual until near the end when someone in the crowd suddenly asked, “Mr. Grant, we heard you’re married. So who is this lady beside you?” Lucas smiled, pulling a shy Aria into his arms before answering, “My ex-wife abandoned me when I was at my lowest point, terminating our unborn child and divorcing me. Aria stood by me through it all, and now she’s my new bride.” “I’ve returned to the country to give my wife the grand wedding she deserves, to make up for all these years of her support.” “As for what happened before, let’s just say I was a poor judge of character.” The crowd erupted in a clamor. In just a few short sentences, Lucas had painted me as a selfish, cold-blooded ex-wife devoid of any wifely virtues, throwing me into a sea of controversy. People were quick to condemn me. Naturally, some were also swooning over the sweet interaction between the pop star and the business tycoon. But I could see the endless hatred lurking in the depths of Lucas’s eyes. Even through the screen, it felt like he wanted to devour me whole. I realized deeply that he hated me. The kind of hate that wished me dead. My blood almost froze. My body, already cold, now felt like it had plunged into an icy abyss. I clutched the red string bracelet in my hand. Averting my gaze, I limped away on my broken leg. As I neared the basement, a little girl bumped into me. When she saw my scarred face and the empty socket where my left eye should have been, she burst into terrified tears. Her mother rushed forward, shoving me hard and cursing, “Ah! You freak! Stay away from my daughter!” The cement ground was covered in puddles from the recent rain, and filthy water splashed all over me. The woman hurriedly left with her child, not looking back once. I calmly picked up the red string bracelet from the ground, wiped it clean, and left. During my first year of work, I was in a car accident and almost didn’t wake up. They issued three critical condition notices. Lucas had specially gone to a temple to get this red string bracelet for me. Yesterday, when I went out to buy food, I accidentally dropped it on my way back. I used every ounce of strength I had to find it. It’s the only thing I have left that’s connected to him. I can’t lose it. Back in the basement, I suddenly lost all strength and collapsed to the floor. My vision blurred as excruciating pain swept through my body, every inch of my skin feeling like it was on fire. I trembled uncontrollably from the pain, my chest feeling as if a boulder was pressing down on it, making it hard to breathe. I clutched the red string bracelet tightly. Besides the external injuries, I had a lame leg and had once been injected with an overdose of bromide. I’ve known for a while that I don’t have long to live. Holding on until today was already my limit. But even in death, there’s no dignity. I laughed bitterly. At least Lucas won’t see me in this state. As the sky darkened, in a place where no one passed by, my body gradually grew cold and still.

I never imagined that one day I, who never believed in ghosts, would become a spirit. After a moment of surprise, I quickly accepted it. I drifted aimlessly through crowds until I found myself at Royal River Gardens. That’s when it hit me. Five years ago, Lucas had used the first money he earned as a stock trader to set up our home there. It was our marital home. The interior was decorated entirely to my tastes. But shortly after we moved in, he was schemed against and lost everything, drowning in debt. His mother was also diagnosed with leukemia. We were left penniless and helpless. I took the opportunity to terminate his child and divorced him. He sold the house to clear the debts and left for five years. As the lights came on, a Bugatti slowly approached from the distance. The car door opened, and out stepped Lucas and Aria. Aria seemed drunk, hanging onto him. Lucas expertly lifted her in his arms and strode inside. Once in the room, he placed Aria on the bed and turned to leave, but she hooked her arms around his neck. Aria nuzzled his face, her soft voice tinged with drunkenness, “Lucas, stay with me tonight, please?” She was wearing a light purple silk camisole that showcased her beautiful figure. Lucas didn’t refuse. Aria’s hands began to wander. His shirt quickly fell to the floor. My heart felt like it was being tightly squeezed. I abruptly turned away and left. Why torture myself? They’re married now. It’s normal for couples to be intimate. Besides, I was the one who left him first. I wandered around, dazed, looking at the familiar layout. This house, full of our memories, now housed another woman, becoming a place of despair for me. After what seemed like an eternity, the bedroom door opened. Lucas walked out, holding a box. The pattern on it was all too familiar to me. Inside were all the gifts I had given Lucas. He sat straight on the sofa, lit a cigarette but didn’t smoke it. After a while, the cigarette burned out. He expressionlessly picked up his phone. I leaned in and froze for a moment. Five years later, I was still pinned at the top of his WeChat. He clicked on my avatar and typed a message in the chat box, “I’m married now. There are still some things you left in the house. My wife isn’t happy seeing them. When are you coming to take them away?” After a moment’s thought, he added, “Come get them tomorrow, or I won’t hesitate to throw them out.” The glimmer of hope that had just risen in my heart burst like a bubble, leaving me with nothing but endless pain. The box contained everything I had given him over the past decade and more. He used to treasure them so much that no one else could touch them. He’d fight anyone who tried. But now, he was ready to throw them away without a second thought. Cold and merciless to the extreme. So, had Aria seen the things in the box and gotten upset? An overwhelming sense of bitterness welled up inside me. I looked away, wanting to touch the box one last time, but could only watch helplessly as my hand passed right through it. Lucas sat on the sofa all night, waiting for a response that never came. His expression grew colder by the minute. I whispered in his ear, “Lucas, I’m dead. My phone is broken. How can I reply to you?” But Lucas probably thought I was avoiding him, not wanting to deal with him. A storm began to brew in his eyes, his face now covered with hatred, his hands clenched so tightly at his sides that his knuckles turned white. He let out a laugh, “Zoe Foster, don’t you dare regret this!” The box was instantly thrown into the trash can. It shattered into pieces, its contents spilling out. The white sweater I had spent three nights knitting for him was instantly soiled with filth. How jarring it looked. All those things seemed to have become dirty in an instant.

It felt like a sharp knife was constantly twisting in my heart, the pain so intense I could barely breathe. I crouched on the ground, large tears falling from my eyes. So, even spirits can feel pain and cry. The commotion in the living room disturbed Aria in the bedroom. She came out, coaxing him, “Lucas, I have a photoshoot today. Will you come with me?” Lucas’s expression softened slightly. He grabbed his coat and left, holding Aria’s hand. At the venue, Aria, now in full makeup, wore a black cheongsam with intricate embroidery. Her hair was elegantly styled in an updo as she gazed at Lucas with love in her eyes. “Lucas, you are the eternal one in my heart.” With these words, she rushed to him without hesitation, cupped his face, and kissed him on the lips. The photographer stepped forward. Click. Time seemed to freeze at that moment. I no longer had the courage to watch. Aria posted the proofs of this photoshoot on her Instagram. It immediately caused a sensation. Fans had been obsessing over them for days. “OMG! That’s my idol for you! Look how smitten Mr. Grant is!” “Exactly! She’s beautiful and so good to Mr. Grant. She’s thousands, no, millions of times better than that wicked ex-wife of his!” “I vow to be vegetarian for life if it means they’ll be together in every lifetime!” “Waiting for the ex-wife’s demise!” Lucas scrolled through the comments with boredom. Suddenly, he smirked, “Zoe Foster, you think ignoring my messages will work? Let’s see how long you can hide.” “All the pain I suffered five years ago, I’ll make you pay for it one by one.” The bitter emotions in my heart couldn’t be suppressed. Lucas, I’m sorry. But if I had to do it all over again, I would still make the same choice. After dropping Aria off at home, Lucas went to the company. For the next few days, he didn’t return to Royal River Gardens. It was as if he had forgotten about my existence. He was busy flying high at the company. His affair with Aria continued to be a hot topic. Until this day, when Aria’s phone rang. He made another trip to the police station. Because Aria had been harassed outside. The car stopped in front of the police station. When Lucas went in, Aria and the man were giving their statements. When Lucas saw the man’s face clearly, his pupils constricted. In that instant, my mind went blank too. The man who harassed Aria was Marcus Lee, the same man who had acted with me in front of Lucas five years ago. Coming to his senses, Lucas’s eyes turned cold. He strode over, grabbed Marcus by the collar, and punched him hard in the face. “Who gave you the guts to touch my woman?” “Does Zoe Foster know you’re out here harassing my wife?” “Or is she too scared to show her face to me, so she’s resorting to these despicable tactics!” Marcus was thin and weak, no match for Lucas at all. He was beaten until blood streamed from the corner of his mouth. I cried out anxiously, “Lucas, stop hitting him!” “Marcus, you idiot! Why didn’t you dodge!” But they couldn’t hear me. Fortunately, this was a police station, and they were quickly separated by the officers. Aria had already run over, looking worried, checking Lucas up and down for any injuries. Marcus wiped the blood from his mouth and sneered, “Harassment? I just wanted this woman to delete those photos from Instagram.” “She refused, so I had to use some tactics.” “As for you, Lucas Grant, the rumors about you and this woman have been spreading like wildfire. You had a hand in that too, didn’t you?” “You’re nothing special, Lucas Grant. You don’t deserve her.”

Marcus, so you harassed Aria for my sake? Guilt, gratitude, and various other emotions intertwined, leaving me with mixed feelings. “You don’t deserve her.” These five words seemed to have struck a nerve with Lucas. His eyes blazed with fury as he clenched his fists and shouted at Marcus, “I don’t deserve her? And you do?” “She’s the one who’s fickle and chose to degrade herself!” “Marcus, did you think I’d be the same as five years ago? You’ll all pay the price. Just wait, I’ll deal with you one by one.” After saying this, Lucas left with Aria. Marcus was detained by the police for harassing Aria. Before being taken away, Marcus smiled at the departing Bugatti, “Lucas Grant, you’ll regret this.” However, Lucas didn’t hear him. In the car, Aria asked softly, “Lucas, should we take down those photos?” Lucas hesitated for a moment before saying, “No need.” The car drove slowly, but this wasn’t the road to Royal River Gardens. Aria placed her hand on his, her tone somewhat anxious, “Lucas, can I stay at your place tonight? I’m scared.” Perhaps today’s encounter with Marcus had brought back memories of the past and soured his mood. Lucas looked at her for a while, but still removed her hand, “The house hasn’t been cleaned in a long time. It’s very dirty.” Aria wanted to say something more, but Lucas patted her head, “Be good, just bear with it for tonight.” Aria could only nod. Because she saw the impatience in his eyes. After dropping Aria off, Lucas drove to Royal River Gardens. The car stopped by the roadside. He leaned back in the driver’s seat, eyes closed, lost in thought. Until Mrs. Grant came down, impatiently knocking on the car window, “Lucas! What are you daydreaming about? Get out now!” Lucas was startled for a moment, then got out of the car, “Mom, why are you back in the country?” Mrs. Grant looked exasperated, “If I didn’t come back, Zoe would be bullied to death!” “What’s going on between you and that Aria Sullivan? If you don’t like her, why are you still being all lovey-dovey with her! What about Zoe? How could I have a son like you!” All the grievances of the past days finally burst out at the sight of Mrs. Grant. I could no longer control myself and burst into tears, “Mom, I’m right here.” Thankfully, she looked in good health now. No longer the bedridden, comatose person in my memory. But she couldn’t hear me. Lucas walked all the way, and she scolded him all the way. She was venting for me, feeling indignant on my behalf. Finally, back in the room, Lucas couldn’t bear it anymore. With a grim face, he said, “Mom! Stop talking! What do you know about what happened back then!” “Zoe Foster abandoned me first! Why don’t you scold her!” Mrs. Grant pointed at him and shouted, “Lucas, I found Zoe abandoned as a child. From when she was ten until now, she’s been with us for over a decade. Don’t you understand her personality?” “You loved her so much. When Zoe suddenly changed into a different person, shouldn’t your first reaction have been to find out why?” “Zoe is kind-hearted! I don’t believe she’s a bad person!” When I was ten, my birth parents, who favored sons over daughters, took me out of the mountains and sold me to a homeless man for a thousand dollars. The homeless man had probably never seen a woman in his life. After the transaction, he eagerly took me to an alley and was about to molest me when Mrs. Grant happened to pass by and saved me. She stood with her hands on her hips, cursing non-stop and threatening to call the police. Although her hands hidden in her sleeves were trembling non-stop, in the end, she and Lucas managed to drive the homeless man away.

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Breakup Year Four: My ex-girlfriend, Nora, finally located my home after a long search. Back when her mother passed away, her father remarried, and her stepmother made her life unbearable, I left her. She resented me deeply for it. But when she opened the door, it wasn’t me she saw—it was my daughter. Nora assumed I had anticipated her visit and was hiding, so she vented her anger on my daughter, hitting and yelling at her. My daughter suffered an asthma attack and was barely hanging on. Meanwhile, Nora stood there with the inhaler, laughing hysterically. “Theo, if you don’t come out now, your little bastard is going to die!” What she didn’t know was that I had been dead for four years. Nora was trying on wedding dresses when she got the call. Without looking back, she got into the car. “Drive faster! Even faster!” The fury she had suppressed for years surged with every press of the gas pedal. Today was supposed to be the day she and her childhood friend, Finn, took their wedding photos. But a phone call pulled her away, leading her to a grimy alley in the north part of town. Despite the scorching summer heat, Nora ignored the unbearable stench, letting her pristine wedding dress brush against the filthy garbage. She stood before a rusty iron door, and before she could knock, it swung open on its own. It was my seven-year-old daughter, Hazel. Hazel timidly held a bag of cans and asked, “Pretty Auntie, who are you looking for?” Nora brushed off Hazel’s question, barged in, and accidentally knocked over the cans. After searching in vain, she seized Hazel by the collar, her eyes blazing with anger. “Where’s Theo? Where is he? Tell him to come out and face me.” Hazel’s face flushed red as she struggled to break free, especially after hearing my name. I was desperate to stop it all but couldn’t do anything. I forgot—I was dead, just a wisp of a spirit now, helpless. Seeing the face of the woman I once loved now twisted by hatred was like a knife to my heart. “Bad Auntie, why are you looking for my dad?” Hearing this, Nora released Hazel’s collar, shocked, before bursting into laughter at Hazel’s face. “Dad?” “So you’re the little bastard Theo had with another woman behind my back.” “I’m not a bastard! I’m not!” Hazel cried out. Hazel was young but very sensible. I found her by chance in a park when she was only three years old. She had big eyes and sat quietly, watching people pass by. Seeing how pitiful she was, I insisted on adopting her. I tried to give Hazel the best of everything, but everything changed after I died. Now Hazel wore a dirty floral dress, her face smudged like a little flower cat, and she reeked from collecting cans to exchange for money. After a while, Finn, Nora’s impeccably dressed fiancé, showed up at the door. “Nora, this place is filthy. Why are you here? Let’s go back.” “Let go of me! After four years, I’ve finally found Theo. I must see him today!” Finn shook Nora’s shoulders, his tone filled with exasperation. “Why are you still thinking about him? Have you forgotten what he did to you? Why bother seeing a heartless jerk like him?” Yes, the heartless jerk they’re talking about is me. Now Nora is a renowned designer in the jewelry world, but behind her glamorous facade lies a past she can’t erase. I broke up with her when her mom died, her dad remarried, and her stepmother was making her life hell, using my infidelity as an excuse. Luckily, she made it through the tough times. Now she wants to find me, humiliate me, and crush me underfoot, making me regret my past decisions. After all, she hates me to death.

“Get Theo out here to see me!” Nora kicked over a kettle on the floor, scalding Hazel’s arm with hot water. I floated in front of Hazel, trying to shield her, but it was futile. “Brat, if you don’t tell me where Theo is, I’ll beat you to death!” “Does he dare to do what he did but not face it now?” Hazel cried out in pain, pushing Nora hard, shouting, “You’re a bad person, go away.” The child’s heart-wrenching cries made my heart ache. Nora tightly gripped Hazel’s arm, scoffing, “Bad person?” “The bad one is your cowardly dad. Even a dog would protect its owner, but Theo just screamed at me.” Hazel’s big, round eyes widened, her little mouth stubbornly retorting. “Bad Auntie, don’t insult my dad!” “When your dad was with me, he cheated and had you, a little bastard. Do you think your family is any good?” “Look at what you’re wearing, where you live. It’s karma. No wonder he doesn’t want to see me.” Standing in the shadows, listening to Nora’s insults, I knew she would hate me, but I didn’t expect it to be so deep. Listening to Nora’s disdain, Finn’s smile grew wider. He pulled Hazel aside, adding, “Nora’s right. Cheating bastards like Theo deserve nothing good.” “He won’t face you because he’s ashamed. Even if he’s dead, he deserves to be in hell.” That moment, I regretted teaching Hazel to be so sensible. She could partly understand such horrible words. But Finn’s shove triggered Hazel’s asthma. The little girl clutched her chest, gasping, and staggered back inside. Meanwhile, Nora laughed maniacally, holding the asthma inhaler from the table, “Theo, if you don’t come out, your little bastard is going to die soon.” Hazel struggled to stand, trying her best to get up. “Is this child stupid? Having an attack and not thinking to use the inhaler.” Following Hazel’s gaze, I saw a painting hanging in the hall. I felt a lump in my throat. Panic made my ethereal spirit tremble violently. Watching Nora get closer to the painting, Finn stepped in front of her. “Nora, it’s getting late. I don’t think Theo will come out. Let’s just go back.” She stopped advancing, turning her gaze to Hazel, who was gasping on the floor. Hazel’s small face was unnaturally pale, her head hitting the hard cement floor with a thud. Nora kicked Hazel once. “Brat, stop playing dead.” With no response in the room but the ticking of the clock, she finally panicked. She picked up Hazel, carrying her outside. I spun in circles in the air, desperate. Hazel needed to get to a hospital immediately. As Finn walked, he tried to block the way. “Nora, she’s Theo’s daughter. He doesn’t care if she lives or dies, so why save her?” “I’m keeping this brat alive. I don’t believe Theo will abandon her. It’s my business; stay out of it!” Hazel was placed in the back seat, and I floated into the car. Just as Nora was about to get in, Finn held her back. He looked at her, his voice hoarse, “Nora, today was supposed to be our wedding photo shoot.” “I hired the best photographer, spent months preparing custom suits and dresses, and invited our parents to witness this beautiful moment.” “Nora, come with me. Theo and this child have nothing to do with you now.”

Suddenly, I found myself dazed. My thoughts dragged me back five years. “Nora, I’ll get the best photographer, buy you the most beautiful wedding dress, and let everyone witness our happiness.” When I said this, Nora cried uncontrollably. She hugged me, saying, “I do.” But I never fulfilled my promise to her. Now someone else could make her happy, and I watched her with anxiety. The pain and bitterness made me not want to listen anymore. But she said nothing, pushing Finn’s hand away, speaking calmly: “Let’s reschedule the wedding photos. It doesn’t have to be today.” “Nora, what do you mean?” “I need to keep this brat alive. Theo has to pay for what he did to me.” She didn’t give Finn a chance to speak, immediately closing the car door. Outside the emergency room, the doctor angrily said, “This child not only has asthma but is severely malnourished. How do you take care of her as a parent?” “I’m not her parent,” Nora replied, awkwardly. “Not her parent? Then get the parent here.” A nearby nurse interjected compassionately, “I’ve seen this child around, often picking up bottles in the area. She seems like an orphan.” A child, only seven years old, living alone. After paying for the medical bills, Nora returned to the ward. Hazel was out of danger. Seeing Hazel’s heartbeat stabilize, Nora finally relaxed. She noticed the IV needle in Hazel’s malnourished arm, which was indeed pale. Nora scoffed, “Theo, you really are heartless. You’d rather abandon your child than face me.” “I’ll see who can endure more.” I floated helplessly, a bitter smile on my face. Nora, you got it all wrong. A Seven-Year-Old Living Alone After settling the medical bills, Nora returned to the hospital room, feeling relieved that Hazel was out of danger. Seeing Hazel’s heartbeat stabilize, Nora finally felt at ease. She accidentally noticed the IV in Hazel’s arm, which showed signs of malnutrition with a bruise. Nora scoffed coldly. “Theo, you really are heartless. You abandon your own child just to avoid seeing me.” “Let’s see who can endure this longer, you or me.” I drifted with no strength, a bitter smile forming at the corner of my lips. Nora, you misunderstood. It’s not that I don’t want to see you. On the contrary, I miss you so intensely, it’s maddening. But sadly, my journey ends here. I can only be with you for so long. For the time that followed, Nora stayed by Hazel’s side, not daring to leave for fear of missing my secret appearances. On her way back from fetching water, a shadow slipped out of the ward. Just as she attempted to follow, the person had already entered the elevator. Nora quickly grabbed a passing nurse to ask. The nurse said, “The visitor was a young woman, asking mainly about the child’s condition. From her tone, she seemed like a relative.” A young woman? Nora immediately suspected that the woman was the one I had an affair with back then. Seeing Hazel sleeping soundly on the bed, she angrily tossed the hot porridge into the trash. Even though the porridge stained her designer dress, she didn’t care, her eyes filled with hatred. “Well done, Theo. You love her so much, yet neglect your own daughter, allowing that shameless woman to step in.” “You love her, but treat me like a plague.” I watched as her eyes reddened, a tear falling heavily to the ground. I approached, wanting to gently wipe away her tears, but then overwhelming hatred overflowed from her eyes. “Theo, I will not let you go!” “I won’t forget the humiliation you’ve put me through. The pain I endured because of you will be returned a thousandfold.” “I want you to regret it. I want you to live in pain, never finding peace!” I’m just a lingering soul. But the dull pain in my heart is no less than when I was alive. But Nora, I’m already dead…

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Sophia fell in love with Jack, but Jack already had a girlfriend. Sophia grabbed my chin and said, “You have the same alluring eyes as Aunt Linda. Since Aunt Linda could break up relationships, I believe you can do it too, right?” I did as she asked. I seduced Jack’s girlfriend, but she went crazy. In the pouring rain, she knelt and begged me not to leave her. But it was all too late. “Your eyes are really beautiful,” Sophia said, holding my chin and gently stroking my brow bone. “Just like Aunt Linda’s, equally seductive.” “Since Aunt Linda could break up relationships, I believe you can do it too, right?” Sophia’s voice was like a devil’s whisper, trying to drag me into the depths of hell. Sharp nails dug deep into my palm as I struggled to steady my trembling body. I knew Sophia had fallen for Jack. It was love at first sight for her. But Jack already had a girlfriend. Only by removing this “obstacle” could she be with Jack. However, I never thought she would ask me to seduce Jack’s girlfriend and ruin their relationship. Ironically, breaking up couples was what she hated most. I lowered my eyes, avoiding her hand, and tried to suppress the tremor in my voice: “Okay.” This was what I owed her, what my mom owed her.

In the past, I resented my face. Now, I’m somewhat grateful for it. With just this face, I could easily hook Jack’s girlfriend with a simple gesture. I was like a knife, effortlessly wedging between Jack and his girlfriend. I sent a message, asking Sophia to bring Jack. 【We’re here. What trick are you trying to pull?】 Sophia made no effort to hide her impatience. Even though I was following her instructions to seduce Jack’s girlfriend. Sophia appeared in my peripheral vision, arm in arm with another man, smiling sweetly. My eyelashes fluttered as I held the girl in my arms even tighter. This was the scene Jack walked into. His girlfriend in an embrace with another man. He stood frozen, his face pale, the light in his eyes gradually consumed by coldness. I thought he would rush over and punch me, but instead, he shook off Sophia’s hand and strode away. Sophia’s expression turned icy as she quickly approached, pulling me and Jack’s girlfriend apart. The girl was shocked and angry: “Who are you?” Sophia just stared at me, silent, her dark eyes swirling with turbulent emotions. I wiped my lips with the back of my hand and raised an eyebrow at Sophia: “Aren’t you going to chase after him?” How laughable. Wasn’t it you who said I looked seductive and told me to do this? Now that I’ve succeeded, why the black face? Sophia shot me a cold glare before going after Jack. Of course, this was her perfect opportunity to swoop in. Watching her retreating figure, it felt like a piece of my heart had been carved out, leaving me empty.

I explained everything to Jack’s “ex” girlfriend. She slapped me and left angrily. I laughed bitterly. In the end, I was alone again. Left to lick my wounds in the dark night before dragging my battered self back to a house that wasn’t truly mine. I opened the door to pitch darkness. Before I could find the light switch, someone pulled me inside and pinned me against the door. The doorknob dug into my lower back, uncomfortable. I tried to move away but was trapped in a tiny space, unable to budge. I opened my eyes and stopped struggling. For a moment, Sophia’s passion-filled eyes met mine. Once her breathing steadied, she reverted to her previous coldness, pushing me away before returning to her room.

I look a lot like my mom, especially our almond-shaped eyes. It was with those eyes that my mom captivated Sophia’s dad. She was the culprit behind the breakdown of Sophia’s family and the loss of both her parents. And I was considered my mom’s accomplice. After all, if it weren’t for me, Mrs. Sullivan wouldn’t have been overly sympathetic to my mom, who had me as baggage. She wouldn’t have arranged a job for my mom. She wouldn’t have given my mom the opportunity to take advantage. I couldn’t understand. Thanks to Mrs. Sullivan’s help, my mom and I weren’t left homeless. But why did my mom have to be so ungrateful, betraying her kindness and causing two families to fall apart, leaving two children without parents? So, I knew very well that Sophia despised my eyes. Every time our gazes met, I could see the undisguised hatred. I wanted to run, to escape this boundless hatred, but Sophia was all I had left. After my mom’s affair with Sophia’s dad was exposed, ironically, they died together in a car accident, becoming a pair of ill-fated lovers. As for Mrs. Sullivan, her already frail body couldn’t withstand the double blow of betrayal from her best friend and lover. She wanted to hate, but both were already dead. The resentment festered in her heart, and she passed away, leaving Sophia all alone. Sophia’s young shoulders were forced to bear the burden of the Sullivan family business. As for me, I was too ashamed to continue living off the Sullivans. But Sophia found me and brought me back home, demanding that I atone for my mother’s sins. I wasn’t just atoning for my mom, but for myself as well.

In a moment of impulse, I kissed the child of my enemy. For several days after, Sophia didn’t come home. Until today, when she called, asking me to bring an important document from the study to her. Her tone was urgent, telling me to hurry. Walking through the dark, quiet alley, I wondered if I had taken a wrong turn, or if Sophia had given me the wrong address. Suddenly, a group of people swarmed into the maze-like alley. They seemed to be local thugs, each carrying a stick. I clutched the document, pressing myself against the wall, carefully trying to avoid them, afraid of provoking them. But they kicked me to the ground anyway. The document fell from my hands. I crawled on the ground, reaching for it. Sophia said this document was important, it couldn’t be lost. A sharp pain shot through my hand. A dirty shoe was mercilessly crushing my right hand. I cried out in pain. The leader of the thugs laughed, “I heard these hands are quite talented at painting, even won some awards. Wonder if they’ll be able to paint anything after today!” He knew me! “Who are you? Who sent you?” I demanded. He lifted his foot, scraping it hard on the ground as if he had stepped in something dirty. “You messed with Jack. Don’t you know what you did?” Jack? Jack Sullivan? He looked down at me, tapping my face with his stick: “You’ve got some nerve, trying to steal Jack’s girl.” “Don’t you know he’s Big Dragon’s brother?” “You made Jack lose face, so we’re here to beat your face in!” I hadn’t realized Jack had so many ‘little brothers’. “Go at him, boys! Just don’t kill him!” The sticks rained down on me like hailstones, as if trying to bruise every inch of my skin and break every bone in my body. In the chaos, I finally managed to grab the scattered document on the ground. I curled up, trying my best to protect it.

“That’s enough, let’s stop here.” “Jack, you’re too kind.” Just as I was about to pass out from the pain, I thought I heard Jack and Sophia’s voices. I struggled to open my swollen eyelids, and sure enough, I saw them both. I tried to pull out the document from my arms to hand it to Sophia, but I couldn’t muster any strength in my hands. “Jack, someone like him doesn’t deserve sympathy. If he dares to ruin other people’s relationships, he should face the consequences,” Sophia’s voice rang out again. Tears that had been held back suddenly gushed forth. Once upon a time, Sophia had saved me when I was being bullied. She had carefully tended to my wounds and chased away the bullies. She said that as long as she was around, no one could bully me. The gentle breeze on my wounds, taking away all the pain, that feeling was still etched in my heart. But now. She stood there, coldly watching as I was beaten black and blue. Jack looked away: “That’s enough, we don’t want this to turn into manslaughter.” The thug leader approached Jack, bowing slightly: “Don’t worry, Boss Jack, we know our limits!” Sophia glanced at me curled up on the ground, then linked arms with Jack: “Jack, I know you’re soft-hearted. Don’t look anymore. There’s a dessert shop nearby, let’s go check it out.” Blood from my forehead flowed into my eyes, blurring my vision. I could only see two figures gradually moving away until they disappeared. “What are you looking at?” The thug leader spat and kicked me again: “What? Thinking of stealing my boss Jack’s girl again?” “Too bad, she doesn’t give a damn about you.” “This beauty has been chasing Jack for a long time, I heard. They say she’s loaded too, always giving him houses and cars.” “We should thank you, actually. If you hadn’t stolen Jack’s girl, she wouldn’t have been able to swoop in, and we brothers wouldn’t be able to enjoy the good life.” Yeah, thanks to me. I grinned, tears falling uncontrollably in large drops. “Boss, has this guy gone crazy? He’s smiling?” “Who cares, just go easy on him. We’ll beat him for a bit more and then leave.” Sporadic blows began to fall on my body again. “Stop!” Vaguely, I thought I heard police sirens. In an instant, those thugs scattered like startled fish and birds. “Are you okay?” My eyelids felt like they were glued shut with superglue. I couldn’t open my eyes, but I knew my savior was a girl. The only thing I could be certain of was that this person definitely wasn’t Sophia. After all, Sophia was accompanying her new love, eating desserts at a nearby shop. 【Paywall】

The strong smell of disinfectant surrounded me as I slowly opened my eyes. What greeted me was the distinctive white of a hospital room, and an unfamiliar girl. She leaned in, her face full of joy: “Sir, you’re finally awake!” “I… Ouch!” I tried to sit up, but a wave of intense pain washed over me. “Careful!” She quickly helped me sit up, placing a pillow behind my back, then scolded me fiercely: “Take it easy! Don’t you know your own condition?” “The doctor said you have multiple soft tissue contusions and a mild concussion. You need to stay in the hospital for a few days for observation.” I forced an ugly smile: “Thank you.” “You really should thank me. If I hadn’t happened to pass by, you might have been beaten to death without anyone knowing.” She handed me a bowl of porridge: “Here, you must be hungry? The doctor said you have a gastric hemorrhage from the beating, so you can only have porridge. I ordered this takeout, it’s still hot.” I tried to raise my hand to take it, but the movement pulled at my wounds, making me groan. Her expression twisted slightly, but then she sighed: “Alright, I’ll feed you.” “Thank you.” “By the way, I’m Emily.” I swallowed the warm meat porridge: “I’m Tyler.” Emily blew on the spoonful of porridge, casually saying: “Later, give me your family’s phone number, I’ll contact them for you.” I lowered my eyes: “I don’t have any family.” She paused, then said apologetically: “I’m sorry, I didn’t know. Then give me your friend’s number, I’ll call them.” Friends? Sophia didn’t allow me to have friends. She had cut off all my social connections, forcing me to live in the cage she provided. “I don’t have any friends either.” I struggled to speak, really afraid that Emily would think I was intentionally trying to cling to her. Emily looked surprised: “Not even one?” I silently swallowed the porridge in my mouth. Emily sighed: “Then I guess I’ll have to take care of you for the next few days.” “Thank you.” I thanked her once again. In the short time I had spent with Emily, I didn’t know how many times I had said “thank you”. Emily patiently fed me the whole bowl of porridge. As she was cleaning up, she suddenly handed me a stack of blood-stained papers. “When I rescued you, I found you desperately protecting these papers with your body, so I brought them along.” The originally white papers now had several black footprints and indelible bloodstains. It completely stung my eyes. What important document? What time constraint? It was just a trap set by Sophia to win Jack’s favor. As long as this fool believed it and fell for it. I looked away: “It’s just waste paper. Please throw it away for me.”

During my hospital stay, Emily often came to keep me company and chat when she had free time. As we spent more time together and talked more, we became closer. One day, Emily stared at my face, looking puzzled. “You’re not ugly, you could even be considered quite handsome. Why don’t you have any friends? Are you pulling my leg?” I glanced at the phone on the bedside table. It was fully charged. For the past few days, I had been hoping it would receive a call, or even just a text message. Unfortunately, there was nothing. Sophia had cruelly cut off all my social connections, trapping me in the cage she had woven. I humbly begged for a shred of her mercy, only to be carelessly discarded. Perhaps what trapped me wasn’t just her cage, but also a “circle” I had drawn around myself. I should step out of it now. I forced a smile that looked worse than crying: “Emily, would you like to be my first friend?” Emily was stunned for a moment, then came over and pinched my cheeks: “Friend, your smile is so ugly!”

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I was once the golden girl, born into wealth and privilege. But overnight, my world crumbled. One accident turned me into a pariah, the family disgrace. The man I loved for eight years, my shining beacon, came to hate me with every fiber of his being. He said I was the cause of it all—the reason for every tragedy. Before I died, he stood over me and asked, “Do you still love me?” I shook my head. “Never again.” Three years later, I came back. I had waited three long years for this moment. In the passenger seat of the car, my brother, Sean Miller, let out a cold snort, breaking the heavy silence. “Drop the pitiful act. That look on your face is disgusting.” He turned, glaring at me with contempt. “You stole Cassidy’s life for years. What you owe her can’t be repaid this easily.” In the past, I would have fought back. I would’ve given him a piece of my mind. But now, I only looked at my reflection in the car window—a pale, gaunt face stared back at me, with hollow cheeks and dull, lifeless eyes. There was no trace of the proud, glamorous princess I once was. Three years of living under someone else’s roof had taught me how to swallow my pride. I nodded quietly. “Okay.” Sometimes, lowering your head is the only way to survive. I was no longer the spoiled, entitled girl of the Miller family. As long as I could leave that hellhole behind, I would do whatever they wanted. The car pulled into the parking lot of an exclusive country club. “Come with me,” Sean ordered. He didn’t give me room to refuse. As I got out of the car, I caught the look of disgust in his eyes—sharp, clear, and unmistakable. Inside the private suite, my heart froze for a moment. Our eyes met. There he was—Lucas Hart. The man I had loved for eight years. For eight long years, I had trailed behind him, desperate for his attention. At the time, I wanted the whole world to know: I, Nora Miller, would never marry anyone but Lucas Hart! But he never once responded. Everyone knew he couldn’t stand people who were clingy and shameless. Three years had passed, and now he looked even colder, sharper—his presence radiating an icy aura. “What are you doing here?” It was obvious Lucas had no desire to see me. “Hey, Lucas, who’s this?” a friend of his asked, clearly intrigued. I lowered my head, wishing I could disappear. “Wait, isn’t this that girl? The one who used to chase Lucas around like a stray dog? The Miller heiress?” The scandal back then had been the talk of the town, so it wasn’t surprising that someone recognized me. “What’s the deal? Lucas is engaged to Cassidy now. Are you still haunting him?” “Exactly. Have you even looked at yourself in a mirror? What part of you could possibly compare to Cassidy?” Their taunts were merciless, each one cutting deeper than the last. My hands, hidden inside my sleeves, clenched tightly into fists. I kept telling myself: Endure it. Just endure it. I forced myself to speak, my voice trembling but steady. “Back then, I was the one who wouldn’t let go. I caused you so much trouble, Lucas. I won’t bother you anymore. Please, just let me go.” Lucas seemed taken aback by my words, but only for a second. His surprise quickly turned into something colder, sharper. “You’re back?” he asked, his tone as icy as ever. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “Yes.” “Why?” I hesitated, twisting my fingers nervously before answering with as much sincerity as I could muster. “Lucas, I promise I won’t appear in your life again. I won’t bother Cassidy, either.” “Remember those words,” he said, his gaze like frost, sending chills down to my fingertips. I forced a brittle smile. “Congratulations to you both…” “Get out!” Before I could finish, he cut me off, his voice sharp and unforgiving. He didn’t even want to look at me. Sean stood to the side, arms crossed, enjoying the humiliation I was being put through. It was clear he was satisfied. I understood in that moment: this man who once adored me, who once called me his precious little sister, now lived to see me suffer. I walked back to the Miller estate. The road felt endless, and by the time I reached the house, the sky had already turned dark. Autumn winds bit through my thin sleeves, chilling me to the bone. When I finally arrived at the gates, my limbs were numb from the cold. The grand, tightly shut doors stood before me, keeping the warmth inside firmly out of reach. I stood there, alone, with nowhere to go. 3 Cassidy broke her leg. It wasn’t my fault. But no one believed me. Not even Lucas Hart. Three years ago, he used a DNA test to send me back to my biological father in a run-down countryside town. I don’t even know how I survived those three years. My father was a gambling addict who owed more money than I could count. Debt collectors showed up constantly, tearing the house apart and taking anything of value. The weight of it all fell entirely on me. Whenever my father drank, he’d beat me senseless and call me a worthless piece of trash. I had no choice but to work myself to the bone, trying to scrape together enough money to keep us afloat. One day, the debt collectors came back, this time with a knife pressed to my throat. They told me I had ten days to pay them back. If I couldn’t, they’d sell me to a nightclub. I begged them on my knees, pleading for more time. Eventually, they gave me a month. But there was no time to breathe. The moment they left, my father stormed in with a leather belt in his hand. The belt lashed across my back, cutting into my skin like a blade. No matter how much I screamed and begged, he didn’t stop. “Tomorrow, you’ll sell yourself on the streets and start making money for me!” I knew if I didn’t escape, my life would be over. In the dead of night, while my father was passed out drunk, I forced myself to stand. Shaking, I dialed the number that had been buried in my memory for years. I swallowed my pride, abandoned every shred of dignity I had left, and begged him to help me escape. “This is your home. Where else do you think you can go?” His cold, detached words hit me like a bucket of ice water poured over my head. I didn’t dare provoke him further. He had a hundred ways to make my life miserable, and I no longer had the strength to fight back. I just wanted to survive. I didn’t dare hope for anything more. Fragments of memory and reality blurred together in my mind. I couldn’t tell if I was dreaming or if I was already dead. I wanted to open my eyes, but my eyelids felt heavy, as though they were weighed down with lead. Then, I collapsed, my consciousness slipping away. I had a dream. In that dream, I was still Nora Miller, the carefree, pampered daughter of the Miller family. I lived a life of luxury, untouched by pain or hardship. Cassidy’s accident had never happened. Lucas Hart didn’t hate me. If only none of it had ever happened… A sharp tug yanked me out of my dream and back into the cold reality. Someone grabbed me roughly, dragging me off the ground. “Nora, get up! Quit pretending! Who are you trying to fool with this pathetic act? I know exactly what you’re up to!” I forced my heavy eyelids open and saw Sean Miller’s twisted face glaring down at me. In my dazed state, I instinctively tried to defend myself. “I’m not—” “Let her in!” came my stepmother’s shrill voice from inside the house. “People will think we’re mistreating her otherwise!” Sean shoved me forward, and the housekeeper, Mrs. Lewis, rushed to catch me. Her worried expression was the only kindness I’d seen in that house. “Thank you,” I whispered, my voice weak. The moment the words left my mouth, my knees buckled, and I nearly stumbled into the door handle. I don’t even remember how I made it to my room. The next thing I knew, it was the following evening, and I was burning up with fever. Mrs. Lewis had secretly given me medicine, but it wasn’t helping. Sean stood nearby, his face twisted in disgust. “Quit acting like you’re on death’s door. You caught a little cold—it’s not that serious!” 4 Yeah, so what if I spent an entire autumn night freezing outside? How did my body end up this weak? For three years, I’ve never had a single day where I was warm or full. I worked myself to the bone every day, taking on any job I could to earn scraps of money. And when I got home, I had to face my father—a man who could lash out and beat me without warning. If I got sick, I couldn’t afford medicine, and I definitely couldn’t risk missing work because of it. That’s how I ended up like this—permanently worn down, broken. Fevers have become a normal part of my life. But losing consciousness like this? That’s new. I went to the hospital. Sitting on a plastic chair in the hallway, I stared at the report in my hands for what felt like hours. Reality always seems to hit the hardest when I’m already at my weakest. Finally, I forced myself to stand and leave. As I stepped toward the exit, the elevator doors opened, and Cassidy walked out, holding Lucas Hart’s arm. Her prosthetic leg was so realistic it was indistinguishable from the other. Her face radiated happiness, her smile glowing like sunshine. Lucas looked down at her with a tenderness so soft it felt like a knife slicing through me. “Nora?” Cassidy’s voice was filled with surprise. “What are you doing here? Are you sick?” She sounded genuinely concerned, but I knew better than to believe it. Hearing her words, Lucas turned his icy gaze toward me. The warmth in his eyes froze over in an instant. I instinctively lowered my head, avoiding his stare. “I’m sorry,” I stammered, my voice shaking. “I didn’t mean to run into you. I—I’ll leave right now.” My words spilled out in a panicked rush, barely coherent. I didn’t even wait for a response—I fled. Ran as fast as my legs would carry me. I was terrified that if I stayed one second longer, Lucas would decide to send me back to my father. Back to that living hell. This hospital? I wouldn’t be coming here again. When I reached the hospital entrance, I saw Sean leaning casually against a car, arms crossed. What was he doing here? Why did it matter? It’s not like he was waiting for me. I turned my head and headed for the bus stop without a second thought. “Nora.” Sean stepped in front of me, blocking my path. I blinked at him, confused. “Get in the car,” he said flatly. Was he… waiting for me? But why? Since when had Sean ever been so kind? 5 Just as I expected. He was here to accuse me. “Nora, Lucas and Cassidy are engaged. Stop clinging to your ridiculous fantasies!” “I’m not!” For the first time since I came back, I raised my voice to defend myself. “Then why are you here?” Sean said, his expression dripping with smug certainty, as though he could see through me completely. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re planning!” “I don’t know how you found out they’d be at this hospital today, but let me warn you—next month is their wedding. If anything happens to Cassidy again, you won’t get off so easily!” His chest heaved with anger, as though I were some unforgivable criminal. But what had I done wrong? Was it a crime to fall in love with Lucas Hart? I had already promised to stay away from him. What more did they want from me? I’d said it a thousand times—Cassidy’s accident had nothing to do with me. No one believed me. Everyone thought I was the one who hurt her. My hands clenched around the crumpled medical report. The sharp edges of the folded paper pressed into my palm like needles, cutting into my skin. Would they only be happy if I died? When I didn’t respond, Sean assumed I was still holding onto some foolish hope. His accusations turned even nastier. “Nora, are you seriously this pathetic? Why Lucas? Of all the men in the world, why him? Are you that desperate?” “Enough!” I shouted, my breath uneven. “I already told you, I won’t bother him anymore. I meant it!” “You’d better not,” he sneered. Then his gaze shifted to the crumpled paper in my hand. “What’s this?” Before I could stop him, he grabbed the report from me with ease. But the next second, he glanced at it briefly and tossed it straight into the trash can by the side of the road. “It’s just a fever. You’re not dying or anything. Stop being so dramatic.” I stared at him, trembling with rage. “Sean, I honestly wish you were dead.”

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Title: My Husband Took My Heart to Save His First Love. At Their Engagement Party, He Cried Over My Photo. After my death, my husband personally performed the autopsy on my body. He took my faintly beating heart and gave it to his childhood sweetheart, Sophia Reed. The five-month-old baby I was carrying was removed and cremated without hesitation. It was then I realized: I was nothing more than a temporary vessel for a heart he had always intended to give Sophia. But three months later, on the day of their engagement, I saw him hiding in the dressing room, crying his eyes out over my picture. The cold blade of the scalpel sliced through my pale skin. I hovered above, watching everything unfold. As a ghost, I couldn’t feel pain anymore. Yet, when Steven Anderson opened my chest cavity, my soul trembled violently. The tiny, blood-covered baby lay curled up, lifeless. That was the child I had fought so hard to conceive after my miscarriage. Steven had wanted a child so badly. I thought he might at least feel a flicker of grief. But when he saw the baby, he turned his face away, uninterested. Instead, his trembling hands eagerly cut into my chest, extracting my warm, beating heart. His excitement was palpable—his shoulders shook as he worked, so much so that he accidentally knocked over a glass container on the surgical table. The sharp crash echoed through the room, shattering the sterile silence. A nurse assistant rushed in after hearing the sound. “Dr. Anderson, is everything okay?” she asked nervously. I lowered my gaze to the operating table, staring at my own mangled, unrecognizable face. It brought back the memory of the accident—glass shards from the shattered windshield piercing my eye socket, the deformed car crushing half of my skull. I had worked so hard to carry this child, hoping it would bring Steven and me closer. In the end, it cost the baby its life. “Prepare the heart for transport,” Steven instructed, his voice steady and emotionless. “Get it into the preservation container and take it to OR 3 immediately. Sophia Reed in Room 315 is ready for surgery.” He removed his bloodstained gloves, adjusting his gold-rimmed glasses with his usual detached composure. “I’ll perform the surgery myself. Make sure every nurse and assistant is on standby—I won’t tolerate even the slightest mistake.” He was so… in love. Sophia Reed, his childhood sweetheart with congenital heart disease, had been rushed to the hospital three days earlier when her heart began to fail. And five days ago, I had been in a car accident. The engine had been tampered with. I remembered the thick black smoke pouring from the hood, far too dark to be normal. I knew it was Sophia who had orchestrated it. She hated me more than anyone else in the world. She needed my heart to survive. And she wanted Steven to be hers forever. “What about your wife’s body?” the nurse asked hesitantly, glancing at the lifeless baby still cradled in my abdomen. “There are no other family members to claim her remains,” she added. “According to protocol, the body can’t stay in the morgue for more than a week.” Steven adjusted his glasses, his expression unreadable as always. “Call Lila Harper,” he said. “She was her closest friend from the orphanage.” I didn’t understand. I didn’t know why. My lifeless body lay exposed, chest cavity wide open, utterly vulnerable. Steven didn’t even think to hold me one last time. I was always afraid of the cold. I was always afraid of pain. Now, even as a disconnected soul, I felt a searing, tearing ache when I looked down at the gaping hole where my heart used to be. The nurse sighed and shook her head, zipping up the body bag to preserve the last shred of dignity I had left. She pushed my body into the cold, dark drawer of the morgue. The darkness I had always feared swallowed me whole. Steven didn’t look back. He was already rushing to save Sophia, the love of his life, with the heart he had stolen from me. I wanted to ask him: In our three years of marriage, was there ever a moment when you loved me? If you knew Sophia had been behind the accident that killed me and our baby, would you feel even a flicker of anger? Would you shed even a single tear for me? But his right hand—the one that once wore a wedding band—no longer bore any mark of commitment. He had taken off his ring within an hour of my death. He couldn’t wait to rid himself of the burden I had become. I couldn’t find the words. I realized then that even a soul could cry. Transparent tears fell from me, vanishing into the air before they could touch the bloodied operating table. Steven Anderson never loved me. I had known that all along.

My husband never loved me.Our three-year marriage was something I shamelessly begged for. In a way, I have Sophia Reed to thank for that. Her congenital heart disease meant she could never bear children for the Anderson family, giving me the perfect opportunity to swoop in. I still remember the first time I met Steven Anderson. It was at a shopping mall. I had been so busy with work that I skipped meals, and the low blood sugar hit me hard. Just as I was about to collapse at the edge of an escalator, a pair of hands pulled me back in time. He was wearing a crisp white shirt, the faint scent of rubbing alcohol lingering on his sleeves. Even his hair was neatly combed. “I’m a doctor. Let me help you,” he said, his deep eyes framed by gold-rimmed glasses. Later, I ran into him again at a late-night diner. He was drinking heavily while picking at a bowl of ramen. The owner looked worried—it was almost closing time, but Steven’s table was crowded with empty sake bottles. His neck was flushed from the alcohol, his glasses lying forgotten on the table. His lashes trembled under the dim, flickering light. “I know him,” I lied to the owner. “I’ll make sure he gets home.” In truth, I didn’t even know where Steven lived. I ended up dragging his drunken body into a cab and taking him back to my apartment. That night, one thing led to another. When I woke up the next morning, Steven was gone. The sheets were neatly made, as if nothing had happened. Only the marks on my skin served as evidence of what had taken place. Later, I found $5,000 transferred to my bank account with a note: “Sorry. Consider this compensation. If this feels inappropriate, I’m open to discussing further reparations.” I didn’t touch the money, nor did I reach out to him. But soon after, I found out I was pregnant. When I told Steven, his face turned ice-cold. Without a word, he furrowed his brow and prepared to take me to the clinic to terminate the pregnancy. But his father, Mr. Anderson, intervened. Their argument erupted in the hospital office. “This is the bloodline of the Anderson family. It must be kept, no matter what!” Mr. Anderson shouted. “If your mother were still alive, she’d want to see you settle down and start a family. I’m getting old—I can’t wait until I’m seventy to hold a grandchild!” “But Sophia has a heart condition,” Steven argued. “No matter how much I care about her, she can’t give us children. It’s better to hold onto this… temporary solution.” “And what about the woman?” Steven retorted, his voice rising. “How can I ask an innocent person to bear all of this for our family?” “You think I don’t know you don’t love her?” Mr. Anderson snapped. “But what is a marriage without love compared to the continuation of our family name?” Steven had already told me he didn’t love me. But in the end, he gave in to his father’s demands. I suppose my willingness to overlook everything also played a part in this hasty, transactional marriage. But the child didn’t survive. The second argument I overheard—outside Steven’s study—sealed my fate. He told his father that after I gave birth, he would give me a large sum of money and send me away from the Anderson family. Shaken, I lost my footing on the carpet and fell. That fall killed my first child. Looking back, I wonder if that was the moment I should have left. If I had walked away then, I might still be alive. I might have lost love, but at least I would’ve kept my life. But I didn’t take the hint. Steven fed me a spoonful of rice porridge after the miscarriage, and all my heartbreak evaporated in that single moment. I was stupid enough to think I could try again—to bear him another child. “The surgery went well,” Steven said, turning around. His surgical mask was splattered with blood. On the operating table lay Sophia Reed, her eyes closed, her breathing steady. The heart transplant had taken five long hours. In those five hours, I’d relived every humiliating moment of my life as if it were a tragic comedy. As the lights in the operating room dimmed, Steven walked toward his office. But before he could get far, Lila Harper stepped out of the shadows. Without a word, she punched him square in the face. “What the hell did you do to Ginger?” she shouted. “What’s with the stitches on her body? Where is the baby she was carrying?”

“The baby ?” Steven Anderson wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth with his thumb, his expression cold as ever. “Medical waste,” he said, his lips curving into a faint, mocking smile. “Of course, it was sent to the incinerator for disposal.” My child… burned to ashes? After the miscarriage, my health had never recovered. I could feel Steven growing more distant by the day. During that time, Sophia Reed had several health scares. Every time, Steven would leave in the middle of the night after getting a call, returning hours later, utterly exhausted. He didn’t even have the energy to offer me an explanation. I’d met Sophia twice. The first time was at the hospital. She had just survived yet another brush with death, her pale face twisted into a triumphant sneer as she looked at me. “Ginger, you’re just Steven’s consolation prize, the substitute he settled for because he couldn’t have me,” she said with a cruel smile. “Now that you’ve lost the child, what else do you have to keep him?” The second time was at Mr. Anderson’s birthday banquet. The thoughtful gift I had spent weeks picking out was set aside, forgotten. Sophia took the stage and sang a song. It left the old man beaming with joy, and, for the first time, I saw Steven smile. So, he could smile. “I’m just not a man who smiles much,” Steven had told me once, in a tone I would never forget. “Don’t waste your time trying to make me happy.” It wasn’t that he couldn’t smile. He just didn’t want to smile for me. That was when I finally understood—his heart had never been mine. But I needed another child. If I wanted to have any place in the Anderson family, I had to make myself useful. I endured injections and medication, working to heal my body. In the end, all I achieved was becoming a lifeless corpse alongside that unborn child. Lila Harper stormed forward, grabbing Steven by the collar. “She risked her life to carry that child for you!” Lila shouted, her voice shaking with rage. “Do you even know how much Ginger suffered? She went through so many treatments that her muscles were wasting away!” Steven shoved her off with ease, his expression indifferent. “I didn’t know,” he said flatly. “And I don’t care to know.” “Give Ginger her heart back!” Lila snarled, her voice breaking. “Give her a whole body to bury! What you’ve done is illegal!” Steven tossed a donor card onto the table. My signature stood out in bold letters. The heart transplant had been authorized by me—three months ago. So it had all been planned. That day at the mall, when a volunteer had approached me about signing up for organ donation, Steven had stood beside me, coaxing me with words about “selfless love” and “helping others.” It hadn’t been a spur-of-the-moment decision. He had already decided back then that my heart would belong to Sophia. How ridiculous. And yet, I couldn’t help but wonder—had he also been involved in the car accident? The commotion drew the attention of hospital security. They restrained Lila, pinning her to the ground as she fought and screamed. Her hair was disheveled, the dark circles under her eyes making her look like a ghost. She slumped to the floor, whispering in a daze: “Why? Why? Ginger was afraid of pain, afraid of the dark, afraid of blood. She suffered so much growing up in that orphanage.” “She thought meeting you was the start of a brighter future.” “But instead, you dragged her into an even darker hell.” “She had no one in this world but you.” Steven smoothed out his rumpled collar, ignoring Lila’s accusations as if they didn’t exist. But I heard every word, and my heart ached. It was true. I had spent eighteen years in the orphanage and five years struggling to survive in the world. I thought I had seen every kind of darkness. When Steven appeared, I thought he was my light—a miracle I had traded all my luck for. But I was wrong. The security guard asked Steven if he wanted to press charges against Lila for assault. Steven shook his head. “Let her go. She can take care of Ginger’s burial arrangements. I have more important things to do.” “That’s your wife, Steven Anderson!” Lila screamed, her voice raw. Steven turned his head slightly, his tone as calm as ever. “Correction: she won’t be for much longer.” “And three months from now, at my engagement party with Sophia, you’re welcome to join for a drink—if you can behave yourself.”

I never thought i’d attend my husband’s engagement party—with another woman.He was marrying the very person who caused my death. At the engagement party, Sophia Reed wore a stunning white mermaid gown adorned with pearls, her skin glowing with a rosy hue that radiated health. My heart was beating in her chest, and she was clearly satisfied with it. So was Steven Anderson. He stood tall in his impeccably tailored suit, nearly identical to the one he wore at our modest wedding three years ago. The only difference now was the smile on his face—a wide, unrestrained joy that he didn’t even try to hide. They danced together in the center of the room, hand in hand, stealing the attention of every guest. It was a moment of adoration I had never dared to dream of for myself. In the center of the stage stood a three-tiered cake, the one Sophia had personally picked out, paid for by Steven. I remembered the moment vividly—I had been there, floating unseen, when I overheard their exchange. “Get whatever size you want,” Steven had said with indulgent affection. “Don’t worry about whether the guests can finish it. I’ll help you eat it.” But I knew for a fact that Steven didn’t eat sweets. How could I forget? On our third wedding anniversary, I had surprised him with a cream cake. His expression had been awkward, almost uncomfortable, as he took a small bite. “I don’t eat sweets,” he said flatly. “Don’t waste your time making these again.” I stood there, frozen, the frosting still smudged on my face. “I’m heading back to the hospital,” he added, handing me the untouched plate. “Just throw it out, and don’t bother with this next time.” I had convinced myself that it was my fault for not learning his preferences sooner. But now, it was clear: his preferences depended entirely on the person. Everything I had tried so hard to attain, Sophia had achieved effortlessly. She took my heart, my husband’s love, and perhaps even secured her family’s financial support for the hospital. After the engagement party, her parents announced they would significantly increase their investment in the hospital’s research programs. Steven was the happiest man in the room. He drank so much that he had to excuse himself to the dressing room to change and sober up. The door closed behind him, and I felt my soul being pulled along, following him inside. I watched as he staggered to the couch, slumping down heavily. He loosened his tie with a sharp tug, his earlier smile suddenly replaced by a frozen stillness. Then, he pulled out his phone, unlocking a private photo album with facial recognition. Inside, there was only one picture. It was an image of him posing with a patient who had just been discharged from the hospital. There were no photos of us—no memories of the life we had shared. But when he zoomed in on the corner of the photo, the blurred face of a passerby came into focus. It was me. I had been caught in the background, an accidental fragment of the moment. “Ginger… Ginger…” He murmured my name under his breath, and his broad shoulders began to tremble. When he looked up again, his eyes were bloodshot, tears pooling and spilling over. What was this? I was already dead. He had never cared for me when I was alive, never once said he loved me. So who was this display for now? Or… could it be that some part of him truly did feel sorrow for me? “Ginger, I’ll avenge you,” he whispered, his voice shaking. “For our child, I’ll make the one responsible pay in blood.” I froze, stunned, wondering if I had misheard. But before I could process his words, the dressing room door suddenly swung open.

The one who entered was sophia reed.She had come looking for Steven Anderson, who had been absent from the party for too long. But she didn’t see the photo on his phone, nor did she notice the tears he had quickly wiped away. By the time Sophia arrived, Steven had already returned to his usual calm and composed self, offering her a mechanical smile. “Steven, what’s taking so long to change? The guests are waiting for us. Let’s go back out!” She reached out to pull him up, but he subtly dodged her touch. Using the haze of alcohol as a shield, Steven pressed his hand to his temple, squinting slightly. He managed to stand briefly, only to collapse back onto the sofa. “I’m still too drunk,” he said, his voice low. “I’ll need another couple of cups of sobering tea. You go ahead, I’ll join you in a moment.” The phone tightly clutched in his hand caught Sophia’s attention. Curious, she picked it up and began flipping through it. She scrolled through his folders, even opening his private album, but found nothing—no trace of me. “What’s wrong?” Steven asked, feigning indifference. “Nothing,” Sophia replied, handing the phone back. “I thought maybe you were still holding onto thoughts of that dead woman, Ginger.” Steven let out a bitter laugh. “How could I possibly still think about her? She was nothing more than the donor I found to give you a healthy heart.” What was he doing? The same man who had just shed tears over my photo was now speaking such heartless words. Which version of him was the truth? “Good,” Sophia said with a satisfied smile, her lips curling upward. She pressed her hand to her chest. “Thanks to her heart, I can stand here by your side today. And soon, I’ll officially be your wife.” Sophia left the room, her heels clicking against the floor, completely unaware of the change in Steven’s demeanor behind her. The smile faded from his face, replaced by an expression of cold, dangerous intensity. His trembling hand, which had just been hiding behind his back, deleted the photo from his phone. His fingers shook as he pressed the button, the redness in his eyes returning as if it had never left. His clenched fist turned white at the knuckles, and though I was nothing more than a soul, I could hear the low, guttural sob that escaped his chest. “Ginger,” he whispered, broken and raw, “this is my fault. If I had just loved you a little more, maybe we wouldn’t be separated like this—between life and death.” I couldn’t understand him anymore. I wanted to reach out and hold him, to comfort him, but my hand passed right through his body. I grasped at nothing. The only thing I touched was the fabric of his collar, the way I used to straighten it for him every morning before he left for work. Steven froze for a moment, his eyes widening. He turned his head slightly and, for a brief second, his gaze seemed to meet mine. There was confusion in his eyes. And sadness. “Ginger…” he murmured my name, almost like a prayer. “I’m here,” I wanted to scream. “I’m here. I’ve always been here.” But he couldn’t hear me. The only response was the flickering light in the dressing room and the muffled buzz of celebration outside. The joy from the engagement party stood in sharp contrast to the desolation in Steven’s chest. He let out a bitter laugh, wiping his tears away with the back of his sleeve. Then he drained the glass of sobering tea in one gulp. Straightening his tie and squaring his shoulders, he walked out of the dressing room with purpose, heading back to the battlefield that awaited him. Once again, I had been wrong. My husband… it seemed he did love me. He loved me deeply.

Steven Anderson drank until he was completely unconscious. As the party wound down, Sophia Reed helped Steven into the car, intending to take him home. But before they could drive off, Steven suddenly grabbed her wrist with surprising force. “Sophia, you’ve had a long day. Go home and get some rest,” he said, his voice hoarse but steady. “But I… I want to take care of you,” Sophia stammered, her cheeks flushing red. Her lips parted with a soft whimper. “I’ve been out of the hospital for so long, but you’ve barely spent any time with me.” Her slender fingers trailed up his chest, her face leaning in close to his. Steven’s stomach churned violently. The next moment, he turned his head and vomited, the foul mix of bile and alcohol splattering all over Sophia’s face. The stench soaked into her hair and dress. “I’m sorry,” Steven muttered, furrowing his brows in pain. “You should go home and clean up. Don’t worry about me.” Embarrassed and frustrated, Sophia clenched her fists. After hesitating for a moment, she opened the car door and left, not forgetting to remind Steven’s father to ensure Steven got home safely. But there was something she didn’t know: Steven could hold his liquor remarkably well. Even an entire table of sake hadn’t been enough to completely knock him out. And his father didn’t know either. Mr. Anderson helped Steven to bed, wiping the vomit from his face with a damp towel while muttering softly to himself. “I know you’re happy, but you didn’t need to drink like your life depended on it!” “With today’s engagement, the hospital’s funding from the Reeds is locked in for at least the next decade. All my efforts to win them over have paid off.” “I’m getting old, son. My health’s deteriorating. I don’t have many years left to look after you. Seeing you settle down and build your future… your mother would finally be at peace.” Steven’s eyes snapped open. “Don’t mention my mother!” he roared, his voice sharp and filled with venom. “You have no right to talk about her!” He sat up abruptly, his movements swift and purposeful—nothing like a drunk man. Mr. Anderson froze in shock, stumbling back onto the chair beside the bed. “What a joke,” Steven said, his laughter cold and bitter. “You love bringing her up, don’t you? The woman who died because of you?” “You knew she had a heart condition, but you insisted she get pregnant. And when it came down to the final moments, you chose to save the baby instead of her.” “I wouldn’t have been born motherless if it weren’t for you!” Mr. Anderson’s face turned ashen, his trembling lips unable to form a coherent response. “How… how did you find out?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “Were you afraid I’d learn the truth?” Steven sneered. “You schemed to let my mother die so you could take her inheritance and dowry for yourself. Every move you make is for your own benefit, but you dress it up as noble sacrifice. Doesn’t it make you sick?” Steven didn’t wait for an answer. “You’ve been using me to cozy up to the Reeds. When you found out Sophia needed a heart transplant, you started looking for a match. You knew exactly who Ginger was from the start.” Steven reached over and unlocked the drawer by the bed, pulling out a stack of papers. He tossed them onto his father’s lap. They were my bloodwork results, taken after I fainted and was admitted to the hospital for low blood sugar. The report confirmed I shared the same rare blood type as Sophia. “My mother died waiting for a heart donor,” Steven said, his voice sharp. “You were so sure I’d support organ donation because of what happened to her. And you were equally sure Ginger loved me enough to agree. So, in the three minutes I stepped away, you sent in a prearranged hospital volunteer to trick her into signing the donor card.” It all came flooding back to me. That day, the volunteer had told me: “As the daughter-in-law of the hospital director and the wife of Dr. Anderson, it’s only fitting for you to support medical advancements.” I had thought it was Steven’s idea. But it wasn’t. He hadn’t known. In fact, he was the one standing up for me now, demanding justice. Beside the bloodwork was another report—a DNA test. “You knew,” Steven said, his tone icy. “You knew Ginger was the youngest daughter the Reed family abandoned. They left her at an orphanage because she was born deaf in one ear.” I instinctively touched the hearing aid I wore. It had long since become a useless decoration. I had forgotten so much, confused my memories. I thought Steven was the one who made me sign the donor card. I didn’t remember how he spent sleepless nights finding the perfect hearing aid for me. I only remembered his cold words, not the quiet love hidden beneath them. “Eat less greasy food—it’s bad for your heart.” “Don’t ride roller coasters or do anything too intense.” He always said these things with a stern face. I thought he was just annoyed with me. But now I understood. Steven had been worried I might have the same heart condition as Sophia—or worse, that I might die suddenly like his mother. He told me that if I gave birth to the child, he’d give me a large sum of money. I thought it was to send me away, but it wasn’t. It was compensation—a way to protect me from his father’s schemes and the Reeds’ ambitions. Steven must have seen through his father’s plans long ago. He wanted to get me out of that abyss. But he hadn’t expected Sophia to strike first. For the first time, Mr. Anderson’s expression cracked, his usual arrogance replaced by fear. Steven let out a hollow laugh. “The Reeds abandoned their own daughter. You killed her to gain their favor. But I was her husband—I won’t abandon her.” “So tell me… what do you think I’m going to do?” Steven’s laughter grew wild, unhinged. I felt a pang of worry and rushed toward him.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “295716”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic

While I was being tortured by those monsters, my brother was busy shopping for clothes with my stand-in. I called him, hoping to hear his voice one last time. Instead, he told me, “If you want to die, just hurry up and do it. Stop bothering me.” A few days later, he sat in his office as the department’s genius forensic sketch artist, tasked with reconstructing the face of a headless corpse. He tore through dozens of sheets of paper, but in the end, the face he drew was mine. And for the first time in his life, my brother panicked. The police arrived quickly after the report came in, cordoning off the scene while curious onlookers gathered. From the distance, I saw my brother, Jason Locke, finally show up, casually late as always. I’d always been proud of him. He was the youngest and most talented forensic sketch artist in the department. With just a few vague details from a witness or a blurry surveillance image, he could bring a suspect’s face to life. Thanks to his sketches, countless cases had been solved, and suspects apprehended. Even victims who had been mutilated beyond recognition—Jason could draw them, too. But today, could he draw me? I doubted it. After all, they’d torn me apart. When they hacked off my arms and legs, I was still breathing. Even now, thinking back to that excruciating pain makes my body tremble. The forensic team carefully photographed my dismembered remains, placing each piece into evidence bags. Most of my body had been recovered—except for my head. The coroner’s preliminary report read, “The victim appears to be a male, approximately 17 years old, based on bone structure. Severe bruising, countless stab wounds, and multiple compound fractures indicate prolonged torture before death. The motive seems to be revenge.” Jason took one look at the remains, turned pale, and ran to the side to vomit. It turns out, even in death, he still found me disgusting. The investigation hit a dead end until a foam box suddenly fell from a nearby rooftop. Inside were the severed eyes, nose, mouth, and ears of a human. The police launched a manhunt, but the perpetrator wasn’t caught. The conclusion was clear: the killer was taunting them, brazenly watching from nearby. Back at the station, Jason got to work. With no leads on the suspect, he started with “me.” As always, he bowed slightly to the remains before beginning—a ritual of respect he performed before sketching any victim. “Such a young age… what a tragedy.” “Your family must be heartbroken.” My heart ached at his words. Really? Would you be heartbroken, Jason? Or would you finally feel free, knowing I’m gone? He put on his gloves with practiced precision, carefully arranging the severed eyes, nose, mouth, and ears in front of him. His movements were professional, even gentle. Once, I had longed for him to show me even a fraction of that tenderness—maybe a hug, a pat on the head. But that had always been a hopeless dream. He had never even smiled at me. Suddenly, his hands froze mid-motion. His fingers trembled as he flipped over the left ear. There was a large scar behind it, a burn mark I’d had since childhood. His knuckles turned white as he pressed his thumb against the ear, brushing away some dust. But the scar wasn’t there. He exhaled slowly, almost in relief, muttering to himself, “It couldn’t be him. He’s too stubborn to die.” But Jason, you’re wrong. I was stubborn, but even I couldn’t survive this. The scar wasn’t there because they had carved it off my skin. Every scar, every birthmark—they had stripped them all away. Jason’s skill was unmatched. It didn’t take long for him to sketch my face perfectly. But instead of relief, he looked disturbed. He stared at the drawing for a long moment before tearing it to shreds. Then, he picked up his pencil and started again. His eyelashes quivered as sweat beaded on his forehead. His grip on the pencil was so tight, his fingertips turned pale. By the time our uncle walked into the room, Jason had already crumpled a dozen failed sketches. Curious, our uncle picked one up and frowned. “Why are you drawing Alex?” Jason didn’t look up, his voice strained. “I don’t know. Every time I try to draw, his face just keeps coming to mind.” “Creepy,” our uncle muttered before tossing the sketch aside. Jason’s face darkened. Once again, I had made him unhappy. But don’t worry, Jason. From now on, I’ll never upset you again.

My uncle, the police chief, worked in the same department as my brother. I always liked Uncle Matt. He wasn’t like Jason—he was kind to me, always gentle. But Jason never let me get close to him. “You don’t deserve it,” he’d say. “You killed his little sister, Alex. How dare you stick to him like that?” “Don’t you think every time he looks at you, he remembers the sister you took from him?” “Murderer. That’s what you are.” So, even though I liked Uncle Matt, I tried my best not to bother him. But Uncle Matt always treated me well, no matter what. Like now, when Jason insulted me, Uncle Matt just sighed and shook his head. “Jason, don’t talk about your brother like that.” “Alex remembered it’s your birthday today. He even asked me to give you this gift.” Uncle Matt handed Jason a card and a neatly wrapped box. Jason didn’t even glance at it before tossing it straight into the trash. Uncle Matt quickly bent down to retrieve it. “You’re so stubborn,” he muttered. “Alex knows you hate him. That’s why he didn’t give it to you himself—he was afraid you wouldn’t accept it.” That’s right. Every year, I gave Jason a gift for his birthday, and every year, he would throw it away. Because Jason’s birthday was also the anniversary of our parents’ death. It happened on Jason’s 11th birthday. Mom and Dad had taken us out for dinner, and they’d bought a chocolate cake for the celebration. But I had thrown a tantrum, insisting I wanted a strawberry cake instead. So, they went across the street to exchange it. That’s when the car accident happened. I still remember Jason’s heart-wrenching cries, the way he screamed for them. I, on the other hand, didn’t shed a single tear. Jason called me a monster. He wouldn’t let me near our parents’ bodies. He screamed at me until his voice broke. “This is all your fault! You killed them!” “Why couldn’t you just let it go? Why couldn’t you have died instead?” His eyes burned with hatred. “Go ahead, Alex. Eat all the strawberry cake you want. Eat the whole damn world’s supply.” Back then, I finally cried. Big, heavy tears. Because he was right. It was my selfishness that killed them. I should’ve been the one to die. I wasn’t even allowed to attend their funeral—Jason wouldn’t let me. “You don’t deserve to be there,” he’d said. For the next ten years, my brother—who once loved me more than anyone else—never cared for me again. When he became an adult, Jason even adopted a boy my age, Chris, to take my place. All the love that used to be mine, he gave to Chris. When Chris grew his hair long, Jason called it stylish. When I did the same, I was “rebellious” and “unruly.” Chris moved into my old bedroom while I was sent to live in the basement. Uncle Matt placed a hand on Jason’s shoulder and said softly, “Jason, ten years is enough. You’ve hated Alex long enough.” “He’s your brother. You can’t treat him like this.” “I’m sure he feels guilty. He’s probably been carrying that guilt for years. I know it hasn’t been easy for him either.” Jason scoffed. “Guilty? Him?” “Uncle Matt, don’t you hate him? He killed your little sister. He’s a monster. If he hadn’t thrown that tantrum, they’d still be alive.” “Mom and Dad died right in front of him, and he didn’t shed a single tear.” Jason glanced at my corpse then, just for a second. Had he recognized me? But in the next moment, his face darkened, and he spat out, “I only wish that body was his.” “I hate him more than anything in the world.” Every time he talked about me, his voice was filled with venom. But now, he could finally be happy. His wish had come true. That body was mine. Just then, a fax came through on Jason’s computer. It read: “Do you like my gift, genius sketch artist? Guess who’ll be next.” Jason and Uncle Matt exchanged a glance, their faces pale. Jason immediately pulled out his phone and called Chris. “Chris, are you okay? You’re safe, right?” “Good. Don’t go anywhere for now, okay?” Chris was always his first priority. Jason, I wish you could’ve cared about me like that. But I know you hated me too much for that. Uncle Matt told Jason to call me as well, and reluctantly, he did. But my phone was off. I didn’t even know where it was. It had disappeared the day I died. Uncle Matt turned to look at my body, his face pale. “No… it can’t be…” I felt a surge of excitement. Were they about to figure it out? But Jason shook his head, his voice firm. “Impossible. There’s no way it’s him. He’s too stubborn to die.” “That reckless idiot. He called me the other day, whining about how mean I was to him.” “I don’t get it. Why can’t he just grow up and stop being so selfish? Why can’t he be more like Chris?” Jason hesitated for a moment before muttering, “Still, I can’t shake this bad feeling. Alex said he ordered a cake for me today and wanted me to come pick it up. But now I can’t reach him.” Uncle Matt sent me a text, his face filled with worry. “Alex, be good. Don’t run off anywhere for the next few days, okay?” “By the way, Jason loved your gift.” Uncle Matt, thank you. But it’s too late. The body lying behind you is mine. A few minutes later, Chris arrived. Jason’s face lit up instantly. He reached out and ruffled Chris’s hair, his touch so gentle it made me turn away. Even as a ghost, jealousy burned in my chest. Jason told Uncle Matt he wasn’t feeling well and left to take Chris out for cake. Uncle Matt reminded him, “Make sure Alex comes with you. He loves cake, too.” Uncle Matt was always so kind to me. But I won’t be able to join them. Before leaving, Jason left me a voicemail. “Alex, what’s your problem? Do you think disappearing like this is going to make me worry? You’re dreaming.” “Even if you died in a ditch somewhere, I wouldn’t blink.” “Call Uncle Matt back before tomorrow. He’s worried about you. You’re so selfish.” “Anyway, I’m off to eat cake with Chris.” I stood right in front of him, watching as his anger burned. A deep ache spread through my chest. Jason, you really know how to hurt me. You’ve told me to die so many times, and now I finally have. Ten years ago, my selfishness turned you into an orphan. I hope my death brings you peace.

Some invisible tether pulled my soul along as I followed them home. It was Jason’s birthday, but he spent his time carefully cutting a slice of cake for Chris. Chris was a snake. He treated me horribly when no one else was looking, but now he put on this fake, sweet act. “Jason, shouldn’t we try to find Alex? He loves cake too,” Chris said with a concerned expression that I knew was completely phony. The warmth in Jason’s gaze instantly disappeared, replaced by irritation. “Why are you bringing him up? Didn’t you hear him ignoring my calls earlier?” he snapped. “For all I care, he can stay gone for the rest of his life.” Jason’s voice softened as he turned back to Chris. “Chris, let’s just pretend he’s dead. From now on, you’re my only brother.” Chris gave him an obedient nod, but I could see the smug, calculating glint in his eyes. It was the same look he always had after framing me for something and watching Jason tear into me over it. The cake they ate was strawberry, but Jason wouldn’t even let me say the word “strawberry” around him. Chris took a bite and complained, “It’s not even good. Jason, you don’t even know what I like.” His tone was sharp, but Jason just chuckled, his expression soft. I envied Chris, the way he could throw tantrums and still be doted on. When you’re the favorite, you can get away with anything. I, on the other hand, could stay quiet and obedient and still never earn a shred of affection from Jason. Jason suddenly pulled a small necklace from his pocket, almost like a magician producing a trick. It was too small for Chris’s neck, so he fastened it around his wrist instead. Tears welled up in my eyes, and I couldn’t hold them back any longer. That necklace… It was the one Mom had put around my neck at my first birthday party. After she died, I used to take it out and look at it whenever I missed her. But Jason had ripped it from me, saying I wasn’t worthy of wearing it. I’d begged him to give it back so many times, and he’d always said, “I’ll give it to you when you’re dead.” And now, here it was, given so effortlessly to Chris. Well, Jason, I’m dead now. Does that mean you can give it back to me? The first autopsy report came out the next day, confirming what the coroner had already suspected. Jason slammed the paper down on his desk, cursing under his breath. “Whoever did this is a goddamn monster.” “By the way, has anyone come forward to claim the body yet?” he asked his assistant. When the assistant shook his head, Jason’s anger only grew. “Unbelievable. What kind of people abandon their own kid like this? When they show up, make sure I give them a piece of my mind.” The assistant nodded awkwardly. “We’ll probably have to do a DNA match,” Jason continued. “Go tell the lab to collect the samples.” Then, he picked up his pencil to resume the sketch he hadn’t finished the day before—my face. But before he could begin, his phone rang. Jason’s expression darkened as he listened to the person on the other end. A few moments later, Uncle Matt walked into the room, his face filled with concern. “Did you take Alex for cake yesterday?” he asked. Jason scowled. “Why do you even care about that useless brat?” he shot back. “Do you know what his teacher just told me? He’s been skipping school. Three days now!” “I bust my ass working to pay for his tuition, and this is how he repays me?” “He better not come back, because if he does, I’m going to teach him a lesson he’ll never forget.” Jason, I didn’t mean to skip school. But I didn’t have a choice. Uncle Matt wasn’t angry with me, though. He turned his frustration on Jason instead. “Jason, that’s enough!” he snapped. “Alex hasn’t been to school in three days, and you can’t reach him. Don’t you think you should be worried about where he is?” “What if something’s happened to him? Your parents left him in your care. Is this how you’re honoring their memory? What are you going to tell them when you meet them in heaven?” Uncle Matt’s voice cracked as his eyes grew red. Jason opened his mouth to argue but seemed to think better of it and stayed quiet. After Uncle Matt left, a second autopsy report arrived. Jason took it from the officer delivering it, but as he read, his face turned ghostly pale. I drifted closer to see what it said. There, printed in black and white, were the words: “A note was found in the victim’s stomach. It contained a single letter: K.”

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She didn’t care about the consequences—she gave me growth inhibitors without a second thought and even wrapped my chest tightly with bandages to keep me looking small. I thought my life was already miserable enough. But then, she pushed me into an even darker abyss. My mom abruptly ended the livestream, leaving the viewers on the other side confused. “What’s going on? Why did the stream suddenly cut off?” “I wasn’t done watching my sweet little angel!” She turned to me, her face cold and unforgiving, and slapped me hard across the face. “You clumsy idiot! You couldn’t even boil water without burning yourself. Do you want people to figure out what a mess you are with that miserable expression on your face?” Sweat beaded on my forehead as I bit down hard on my pale lips. The burning pain in my foot was unbearable, and my vision started to blur. I grabbed onto her hand, pleading, “Mom, my foot hurts. It really hurts.” She yanked her hand away, her expression indifferent. “You think I care? Do you know how much money I just lost because we had to stop the livestream?” Her voice was a blur of irritation in my ears as the pain overwhelmed me. I couldn’t hold on any longer and passed out. When I woke up, I was in the hospital. My mom was still there, holding up her phone, recording me lying on the hospital bed. She spoke to her audience in a concerned tone: “Sorry for cutting the stream earlier. Little Anna accidentally burned her foot with hot water and fainted. Poor thing is still lying here in the hospital bed…” As expected, the comment section quickly filled with messages of concern and sympathy. “My poor sweet Anna!” “She got burned? Will it leave a scar? She needs to rest and recover!” “Did Anna cry? Even a little splash of hot water makes me scream, let alone something like that!” Reading this, my mom leaned in and pinched the tender skin at my waist, hard. Tears welled up in my eyes instantly, spilling over as I tried to hold back a sob. The comment section exploded again: “Anna’s crying! My heart is breaking for her!” “Don’t cry, sweetie…” My mom sighed dramatically, putting on her best exhausted expression for the camera. “Anna needs to rest now, so we’ll end the livestream here today. Thank you all for your love and support!” She ended the stream and immediately dropped her act. The cold, calculating look returned to her eyes, but there was also a glimmer of satisfaction. She patted my head the way a loving mother might, but her words were anything but comforting. “Not bad, Anna. I didn’t expect this to work so well. Your little hospital stunt really brought in more fans. Good job.” I forced a weak smile, but it probably looked worse than crying. My parents divorced when I was young, and my mom got custody of me. When I was eleven, she stumbled upon a livestream where someone was selling homemade goods. She watched in awe as the influencer raked in money effortlessly. That night, she quit her job. Her new goal? To turn me into a “cooking prodigy” and make me the next viral sensation. At first, I frowned and resisted. But my mom knew how to get what she wanted. Her eyes would fill with tears, and she’d say things like: “Anna, do you have any idea how hard it’s been for me to raise you alone all these years? Do you know how much I’ve suffered?” “This is our big break! If I can make this work, I can finally turn our lives around. If you really care about your mom, you’ll listen to me… won’t you?”

Looking at my mom, I swallowed back the words I wanted to say. And just like that, my high-achieving, soon-to-be middle school self was pulled out of school by my mom, who was absolutely thrilled about her decision. My mind felt hazy. I vaguely remember a doctor standing nearby. “Ma’am, your child is stable now,” the doctor said. “There are other patients waiting for this bed. If you keep occupying it unnecessarily, someone else won’t get the treatment they need…” She was politely trying to convince my mom to discharge me. But my mom wasn’t having it. She planted her hands on her hips, pointed a finger at the doctor, and started yelling. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? Are you seriously kicking a patient out of the hospital? Where’s your compassion? Did you lose your humanity along with your medical ethics?” The doctor frowned at her nonsense but eventually walked away, clearly unwilling to argue further. As soon as the doctor left, my mom smirked, looking smug and victorious. The area around my hospital bed was crowded with fruit baskets and flower arrangements—all sent by my “fans.” She grabbed a plum from one of the baskets and popped it into her mouth. “Pretty nice, huh? Just lying there while I’m out here killing myself for you. Do you know how hard it is for me? Pretending to be you, thanking fans, entertaining visitors? My back’s practically broken!” Then her tone softened as she reached out to stroke my hair. “But it’s all for you, sweetheart. Everything I do is for you. The money we’re earning? It’s all going to be spent on you. You’ll remember how much I’ve done for you, won’t you?” I lowered my gaze, my eyes dull and lifeless. This wasn’t what I wanted. I didn’t want fans. I didn’t want attention. I just wanted to live a quiet, normal life. As the hype around my injury finally died down, my mom declared it was time to “get back to work.” The hospital staff, probably relieved to see us go, cheerfully sent us off. The moment we got home, my mom tossed a cookbook at me. “Learn this recipe,” she ordered. “Don’t even think about sleeping tonight if you don’t get it right.” I caught the book out of habit. This was nothing new to me. But when I flipped it open, my eyes widened in shock. The recipe was for sweet and sour fish, a dish that requires years of knife skills and precise temperature control to perfect. “Mom, can I learn something else instead?” I asked, my voice trembling. She glared at me, her eyes sharp and unyielding. “Your fans love this stuff. They’re the reason we’re making money. If they want sweet and sour fish, you’ll make sweet and sour fish. Stop complaining!” I clenched the recipe tightly in my hands. If they told me to die, would I have to do that too? That night, I felt like I was losing my mind. Every word in the recipe burned itself into my brain. I moved like a machine, repeating the same motions over and over again. Chopping onions, ginger, and garlic. Scaling fish. Ten, twenty, thirty fish… My hands turned pale from soaking in water for so long. The sharp edges of the fish scales left cuts all over my fingers, blood dripping down onto the cutting board. But I couldn’t stop. My mom stood right next to me, watching my every move like a hawk.

She let out a loud yawn. “You’re so useless. You’re the reason your poor mother can’t get any sleep. God, I’m exhausted…” Her words startled me, and my knife slipped, slicing into my hand. She rushed over immediately, grabbing my hand to inspect the wound. “What were you thinking?! If you cut yourself, how are you supposed to go live tomorrow?” she snapped, her tone sharp but filled with urgency. Then, without hesitation, she brought my bleeding finger to her mouth, sucking on it to stop the bleeding. The night dragged on endlessly. By the time the sky started to lighten, my mom was already setting up the camera. She dabbed a thick layer of foundation on my face, carefully covering the dark circles under my eyes. Then, with a sharp slap to my back, she barked, “Stand up straight! Stop looking like you’re about to keel over!” I forced my heavy eyelids open and plastered on the familiar smile I had perfected over the years. “Hi, everyone! Good morning! Today, I’ll be making sweet and sour fish,” I said cheerfully into the camera. The chat lit up immediately with comments. “What? Anna’s making sweet and sour fish today? That dish is so hard—I’ve tried it a dozen times and still can’t get it right!” Standing off-camera, my mom shot me a warning look, her lips silently mouthing instructions. As I scaled the fish, I responded to the comment with a practiced tone of humility. “Actually, I’m not very good at it either. I just glanced at the recipe last night and thought I’d give it a try today.” By this point, after a sleepless night of chopping, slicing, and practicing, I had the steps down perfectly. But I knew I couldn’t make it look too easy. My mom’s sharp eyes monitored my every move, her lips twitching in a silent threat to keep me in line. An hour and a half later, I finally finished the dish. The comments exploded in praise. “Is Anna secretly a culinary prodigy? She only read the recipe once and made this? Incredible!” “Ugh, when I compare her to my son, I feel like crying. All he knows how to do is eat!” My mom’s face lit up as the compliments poured in. She leaned closer to the screen, practically whispering to herself. “Come on, send gifts. Keep sending gifts…” It was as if the viewers could hear her thoughts. “Let’s encourage Anna! Sending her a few flowers…” One gift turned into two, then ten, then dozens. The money kept rolling in, and my mom’s grin grew wider with every notification. Just as she was basking in her success, one comment popped up on the screen, catching her attention: “I’ve been following Anna for three years now. She’s really grown up into a young lady. Her body’s developing so well…” My mom’s smile froze, her brows furrowing slightly. More comments followed. “True, it’s like watching her grow up before our eyes.” “Yeah, she’s turning into a real beauty…” I felt my face drain of color, my chest tightening in silent panic. Please, just stop. When the livestream finally ended, my mom seemed pleased with the money we’d made, but her expression was darker than usual. She walked toward me with purpose, and I instinctively stepped back, my voice barely audible. “Mom…” She didn’t say a word. Instead, she grabbed the hem of my shirt and yanked it up, exposing my torso to the cold air. I froze, my entire body trembling.

“You didn’t follow my instructions?” I shook my head frantically. “Mom, that waist binder—it was too tight. I couldn’t breathe, so I took it off last night…” Before I could finish explaining, she slapped me hard again. Her eyes burned with anger. “You’re already refusing to listen to me? What will you do in the future?” My mom had decided that I was going to be a “child cooking prodigy” on social media. And for that to work, I had to look the part—I had to stay small, young. She grabbed a roll of bandages and began wrapping them tightly around my chest, layer after suffocating layer, as if she were trying to crush the life out of me. When she was done, she stepped back, looking pleased with the flat result. But then, as if noticing something else, she stood back and measured my height with her hand. “No, no. This won’t do.” She turned and started rummaging frantically through a drawer, eventually pulling out a syringe. Her grin was sharp and menacing as she advanced toward me, backing me into a corner. I sank to the floor, powerless. I didn’t want to stop growing. I didn’t want to be trapped in the body of a child forever. But my protests were useless. My eyes stared blankly as she plunged the growth inhibitor into my arm without hesitation. Every day, I lived as “Anna’s Cooking Adventures,” the account my mom had created for me. My life revolved around kitchen grease and smoke, spending late nights in the kitchen perfecting recipes. I had no freedom. But my mom’s efforts weren’t in vain. My videos caused a sensation online, gaining more and more attention. I became the “perfect child” everyone envied. Comments flooded beneath each video: “With a daughter like this, I could die happy!” “Can we trade kids? I’ll take Anna!” “Anna is officially my future daughter-in-law. Calling dibs now!” “How dare you compete with me? Anna belongs to my family!” As my popularity skyrocketed, a cooking competition show for kids reached out to my mom. When she got the offer, she was ecstatic. She made several announcement videos thanking my fans. “Anna’s going to be on a cooking show! Thank you all for your love and support!” The comments rolled in like a tidal wave: “What? My daughter is going to be on TV? Of course we’ll watch!” “Which channel? I’ll tune in immediately!” That year, I was fifteen. But I found myself standing among a group of eight- and nine-year-olds, competing against them as if I belonged. The night before the show, my mom wasn’t taking any chances. She added even more layers of bandages around my chest and injected me with another round of growth inhibitors. Under the watchful eyes of the audience, I stood out. Among the younger children, my skills and experience shone, and I advanced easily to the finals. The show became a massive hit. The unique concept and drama captivated viewers, and soon, everyone was debating the final rankings. My fans were relentless, clashing with the other contestants’ supporters online. But I had the largest following by far. To most people, my victory was already a foregone conclusion—the other kids were just there to fill the stage. When the night of the finals arrived, I stood under the spotlight, with the audience cheering my name. But during the most critical step of the competition, I lost control of the heat. The dish burned.

And so, despite being the favorite to win, I ended up in last place. “Anna just had a little slip-up this time! She’s been amazing in her livestreams and videos before.” “No one’s perfect. It’s normal for Anna to make mistakes now and then!” My fans rushed to console me, but my mom wasn’t having any of it. The moment the competition ended, she stormed backstage, clearly looking for me. Panic surged through me. If she caught me, I knew I wouldn’t escape unscathed. For the first time, I defied her—I ran. She chased after me, her voice echoing with curses. “You little brat! Just wait until I catch you. You’ll regret this!” As she was about to grab me, a figure suddenly stepped in front of me. My eyes lit up with hope. I collided into the man’s chest, and he immediately crouched to check on me. His voice was deep but gentle. “Are you okay?” My mom, trying to suppress her fury, called out in a cold tone, “Anna, come here.” But I clung tightly to the man’s shirt, my tear-filled eyes pleading with him as I shook my head. Understanding my silent request, the man stood up and positioned himself between me and my mom, blocking her view of me. My mom, now livid, snapped, “Who the hell are you? This is my child. How I handle her is none of your business!” A few onlookers started whispering nearby, and one of them muttered something just loud enough for my mom to hear. “That’s Mr. Thompson—the show’s main investor.” Instantly, my mom’s expression shifted. Her anger vanished, replaced by a forced, ingratiating smile. “Oh, Mr. Thompson! My apologies, I didn’t recognize you! Haha, silly me! So… what did you think of Anna’s performance? Wasn’t she great?” I didn’t catch the rest of what she said because Mr. Thompson gave a subtle signal, and the person who had been whispering earlier gently took my hand and led me away. Around the corner, I turned back just in time to see Mr. Thompson handing my mom a bank card. I didn’t understand what it meant, but after a while, the person escorting me told me it was time to go home. I didn’t want to go back. I sat outside the studio for hours, watching the sky grow darker and darker. But eventually, I gave in to reality and headed home. When I got there, I was surprised—my mom didn’t yell at me or hit me. For the first time, I felt a flicker of hope. Maybe it was because of that man? But then, she handed me a card. Written on it was the address and room number of a hotel.

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My wife buried my daughter alive. All because her “first love’s” son stabbed my daughter with a knife, and I slapped him in anger. To retaliate, my wife broke my daughter’s leg, threw her off the seventh floor, and then buried her alive in the backyard. When I confronted her in despair, she screamed hysterically, “He’s just a child! How could you be so cruel? Do you even realize you knocked out one of his teeth with that slap?” Later, after I found my daughter’s body, she cried and begged me not to divorce her. But I could never love her again. My daughter was killed by her own mother. She took her last breath inside a dark, suffocating box, alone. And I was miles away, on a business trip, completely unaware that the little girl I cherished more than anything in this world had already left me forever. Late that night, after finally wrapping up work, I picked up my phone to call her. But as soon as I unlocked my phone, I saw several missed calls from her. There were also multiple voice messages. My heart immediately sank. A wave of fear surged through me. I quickly called her back, but no one answered. I told myself not to overthink it, to stay calm. But when I opened her voice messages, her trembling, tear-filled voice pierced through the silence: “Daddy, why aren’t you back yet? Daddy, I don’t feel good. Please come save me.” “Daddy, I can’t breathe… Daddy…” “Daddy…” Her voice grew weaker with each message, and my chest felt like it was being crushed. I called my wife, Jessica, in a panic, but she kept rejecting my calls. Frustrated, I opened her social media account and saw her post: she was having dinner with her “first love.” Unbelievable. If Jessica hadn’t promised to take good care of my daughter, I would never have left her at home while I went on this business trip. Little did I know, leaving her behind was the worst decision I had ever made. The hour-and-a-half plane ride back felt like an eternity. I prayed desperately for time to move faster, terrified that every passing second might take my daughter further away from me. When I finally arrived home, I burst through the door, only to find Jessica tucking her “first love’s” son, Ethan, into bed. She looked startled when she saw me, her expression guilty and uneasy. “Why are you back so soon?” she asked, feigning nonchalance. Her demeanor sent a wave of panic through me. “Where’s my daughter? Where’s Lily?” I demanded. Jessica swallowed hard, her voice rising defensively. “She’s been asleep for hours. And honestly, Ethan is your stepson now, and I’m your wife. Why is that little brat the only person you ever care about?” I glared at her, my eyes burning red, and her insolent tone faltered. She immediately stopped talking. Frantically, I searched every room in the house, but Lily was nowhere to be found. Her desperate cries for help echoed in my mind, fueling my growing desperation. “Jessica, where is she? What did you do to her?” I shouted. At that moment, Ethan rubbed his eyes and sat up in bed, yawning. “Why are you making such a big deal about that brat?” he muttered. “Last time you slapped me, Jessica said she’d teach her a lesson to make me feel better. So this is all your fault.” His childish tone carried an innocent cruelty that made my blood boil. I turned to Jessica, disbelief and fury coursing through me. “All this because I slapped him? You used my daughter to ‘make him feel better’?” Jessica, realizing the truth was out, dropped her pretense. She crossed her arms and sneered. “Well, you shouldn’t have hit Ethan. He’s just a kid, and now he’s missing a tooth because of you.” “So yeah, I taught Lily a lesson. She’s my daughter; I can do whatever I want with her. And if you keep making a scene, you’ll never see that little brat again. I can’t believe she had the nerve to tattle on me to you.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Jessica was Lily’s mother, yet she was defending someone else’s son while treating her own daughter like trash. My vision turned red with rage. I grabbed Ethan by the collar and snatched a fruit knife from the coffee table, pressing it against his neck. “Tell me where Lily is,” I growled, “or I’ll make sure he’s buried next to her.” Jessica screamed in terror, begging me to put Ethan down. Finally, she broke under the pressure and pointed toward the backyard. “She wouldn’t stop crying, so I locked her in a box. Now put Ethan down, or I swear to God—” Her words blurred as I turned toward the window. The backyard was quiet, illuminated by the soft glow of the porch light. But there was no box in sight. Then my eyes landed on a freshly dug mound of dirt. A chilling realization gripped me. “You buried her alive in that box,” I said through clenched teeth. Jessica opened her mouth, but I didn’t wait for her response. There wasn’t time to waste. Saving Lily was all that mattered now.

When I clawed through the foul-smelling dirt with my bare hands, what came into view was a box, tightly locked. My fingers trembled as I fumbled with the latch, and when I finally managed to pry it open, my worst nightmare unfolded before me. My daughter—once so full of life—lay inside, her pupils dilated, her tiny face pale and bluish. I couldn’t believe it. Just days ago, she was fine, smiling, laughing. And now, she was gone. Carefully, I lifted her lifeless body from the box. Her once-bright face would never smile at me again. At the hospital, the doctor shook his head regretfully. “She passed away several hours ago. It seems an asthma attack was the cause.” I sat there, trembling, unable to process the words. Flashes of her face—a face so full of life—filled my mind. She was only five years old, taken from this world by the very person who should have loved her the most: her own mother. It was all because of Jessica. I called her over and over, my fury building with each rejection. Finally, after ignoring me for what felt like an eternity, she answered. Before I could say a word, her irritated voice snapped through the receiver. “Gavin, what the hell is wrong with you? Calling me nonstop—don’t you realize I’m busy calming Ethan down?” “It’s your fault he’s so upset. If he has nightmares tonight, I’ll make sure you pay for it.” Then the line went dead. I stared at the phone in silence, the dial tone echoing in my ears. At that moment, I realized the truth I’d been too afraid to admit until now: Jessica never loved our daughter. What kind of mother would call her own child a “brat”? Jessica, a doctor of all things, had betrayed everything her profession stood for. Knowing full well that Lily had asthma, she trapped her in a dark, airless box, leaving her to suffocate to death. Rage burned through me, threatening to consume me whole. Guilt and grief crushed me like a mountain, making it impossible to breathe. Memories of the day I left for my business trip replayed in my mind, sharp and vivid. Lily had grabbed my hand, her tiny fingers clutching mine tightly as she looked up at me with tear-filled eyes. “Daddy, do you really have to go? Can’t you take me with you?” She hugged her little stuffed bear, her innocent face full of hope. I’d crouched down to her level, holding her close, hesitating as her words gnawed at my heart. But Jessica had quickly swooped in, pulling Lily into her arms. “Lily, Mommy’s here to take care of you. Let Daddy focus on work so he can buy you all those pretty clothes and new toys, okay?” “Gavin, don’t worry. I’ll take good care of her,” Jessica had reassured me with a smile. Despite an uneasy feeling deep in my gut, I left. I convinced myself it was safer for Lily to stay home with her mother than to travel with me. After all, Jessica was her mom. But now, staring at my daughter’s lifeless body, I realized just how wrong I had been. Jessica didn’t just fail to protect Lily—she sacrificed her. All because I slapped Ethan, the son of her first love. And why did I slap him? Because Ethan had stabbed Lily with a knife. Jessica didn’t care. She buried our daughter alive just to “defend” her ex’s precious son. I had been such a fool to believe her promises, to think she wanted to make things right. Sitting in the hospital waiting room, I broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. I had failed my daughter. I had handed her over to Jessica. I had sent her to her death.

I sat in the hospital all night. It wasn’t until the sun rose the next morning that I finally moved, my body stiff and aching. My daughter was gone. The only thing left for me to do was give her a proper burial. But just as I was about to leave, the doctor called me back. In the waiting room, he held my daughter’s death report in one hand, hesitating as he glanced at me. “There’s something you should know about your daughter’s injuries,” he said cautiously. A heavy weight pressed against my chest. My voice came out hoarse and broken. “What do you mean? What injuries?” The doctor sighed, clearly troubled. “Your daughter didn’t just have knife wounds. Her body was covered in bruises, all caused by external force. And I suspect there may have been internal damage as well…” I didn’t hear the rest of what he said. The words knife wounds and bruises echoed in my mind, stabbing into me like daggers. In that moment, it felt like I’d fallen into a frozen abyss. How much pain had she endured before she died? A memory suddenly surfaced—before I left for my business trip, I had hidden a small camera inside her stuffed bear. I’d done it out of worry, wanting to keep an eye on her while I was away. That bear had been her favorite, the one she always hugged tightly to her chest. My hands trembled as I removed the memory card from the bear and inserted it into my laptop. At first, the footage was normal. My daughter was smiling, clutching her bear, and waving goodbye to me. But as soon as I left, Jessica’s entire demeanor shifted. Her face turned cold, and she shoved Lily to the floor without a second thought. Her sharp movements made it clear—this wasn’t the first time. I watched as my daughter, so small and obedient, picked herself up and quietly retreated to her room. My chest tightened, guilt tearing me apart. How could I have been so blind? How could I have left her in Jessica’s care, never realizing how cruel her own mother was behind my back? Suddenly, Lily’s cries pulled me out of my thoughts. “Mommy, I’m sorry! Please don’t hit me! I won’t say I’m hungry anymore!” “Shut up, you little brat!” Jessica snapped. “Cry again, and I’ll throw you out the window. Believe me, I will.” The next thing I heard was Lily’s muffled sobbing. Jessica wasn’t done. She grabbed Lily roughly by the arm, dragging her out of the room and shoving her into the car. Inside the car sat Jessica’s first love, Mark Hayes, and his son, Ethan. “Why did you bring that little nuisance along?” Mark complained. “You know her dad’s just going to lose it again. Last time he hit Ethan just because the kid scratched her with a knife. A knife! And all over one stupid tooth.” I clenched my fists as I watched, rage boiling inside me. Scratched her with a knife? Lily’s hand had needed stitches—several of them. Jessica smiled apologetically, trying to calm him down. “Don’t be mad, Mark. Gavin loves that little girl too much, so I thought I’d bring her along to help you blow off some steam. You can do whatever you want with her.” “I just didn’t want things to escalate between you two again. You know how impulsive that orphan is—he doesn’t think before he acts.” Mark laughed, satisfied. “Ah, you always know how to please me, Jess.” He pulled her closer by the waist. And then, as if their casual cruelty wasn’t enough, they came up with a plan to “teach Lily a lesson.” Their method? Tying a rope around her waist and dangling her off the seventh floor of the building. The camera shook as the footage captured the horrifying scene. Lily’s screams filled the air. “Daddy! Mommy! Help me!” But no one helped her. When they finally pulled her back up, she had fainted from terror. Ethan, however, wasn’t done. He grabbed her by the hair, climbed on top of her, and said in the most innocent tone imaginable, “Jessica, I saw on TV that people get buried alive sometimes. The sound they make is so funny. Can I bury her in the ground?” For a moment, Jessica hesitated. But then she smiled, indulgent and sweet. “Sure, honey. Go ahead.” How could she? I watched in horror as they stuffed my crying daughter into a box and carried her to the backyard. The sounds of laughter mixed with Lily’s desperate cries for help. The camera caught everything—her fear, her pain, her hopelessness. Tears streamed down my face as I stared at the screen, my body trembling. In her final moments, my daughter must have felt nothing but despair. She must have called me again and again, hoping I would save her. But I wasn’t there. I couldn’t save her.

When the video ended, my mind went completely blank. How naive I had been. I never imagined Jessica would go so far as to toss our daughter off the seventh floor just to please Mark Hayes. Such cruelty. Such inhumanity. How could people like them even dare to call themselves parents? Furious, I stormed back home. When I opened the door, I found the three of them—Jessica, Mark, and his son Ethan—standing in the kitchen, happily making dumplings together. They laughed at some joke, their heads leaning close to one another, the picture of a harmonious “family.” My daughter had died a horrific death, and yet Jessica had the audacity to stand here joking and laughing with another man. She didn’t even notice I’d come home. The rage inside me erupted. I marched over to Mark, grabbed his head, and slammed his face into a bowl of flour. Then I punched him square in the jaw. “Keep making your damn dumplings!” I shouted. Ethan saw his father being beaten and tried to intervene, but I slapped him so hard he stumbled backward. My bloodshot eyes burned with fury as I turned my fists on both father and son. Jessica stood frozen in shock. It took her a moment to react, and then she screamed, “Gavin, are you insane?! How dare you lay a hand on Mark!” But her voice was nothing more than noise to me at that point. Mark cried out in pain as I pummeled him relentlessly. His smug face swelled up like a pig’s head. Grabbing a handful of his hair, I slammed his head against the floor, over and over, until his body went limp. Just as I turned my attention to Ethan, Jessica grabbed a ceramic bowl and smashed it against the back of my head. The sharp, searing pain made me pause as blood trickled down my forehead. I blinked, slowly turning to look at her. I had almost forgotten—there was still one more guilty party in this house. A twisted smile spread across my face as something dark and primal awoke inside me. Jessica backed away in fear, but I lunged at her, pinning her to the floor. I slapped her hard across the face, the sound echoing through the room. “Lily was your daughter! Your own flesh and blood! Why did you do this to her? Why?!” I roared, my voice breaking with anguish. Even now, I couldn’t understand how Jessica could be so heartless, so monstrous toward her own child. Jessica sobbed and wailed beneath me. “I didn’t do anything! She wouldn’t listen, so I disciplined her. What’s wrong with that?” “She’s my daughter! I can do whatever I want with her!” I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly. “She was your daughter, Jessica! How could you turn her into a punching bag for someone else? She was only five years old, and now she’s dead because of you!” “All because I slapped Ethan, you took your revenge on Lily? You let her die for that?” Jessica’s expression twisted into hysteria as she screamed back at me. “What else was I supposed to do?! Ethan is just a child! How could you be so cruel and knock out one of his teeth?” “And besides,” she continued, her tone turning venomous, “Mark said it was fine to lock Lily in the box for a few hours. But now look at you—storming in here like a lunatic and beating us up. When you end up in jail, just wait and see what I’ll do to that little brat of yours.” “She was just a lying little parasite! Always twisting the truth and tattling. So what if she’s dead? It’s not a big deal. Just bury her and be done with it!” Her words shattered whatever was left of my spirit. Even now, Jessica refused to acknowledge Lily’s death. She continued to defend Mark and his son, as if their lives were worth more than our daughter’s. In that moment, I realized everything—my trust, my love, my family—had been nothing more than a cruel joke. Lily and I had both been nothing more than pawns in their twisted little game.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “295713”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic