Author: Momo Chan

When my parents decided to divorce, my sister and I had to choose which parent to live with. In my previous life, my sister chose to live with our mother. Despite the hardship and poverty, she became a pottery artist. I chose to follow my father and eventually became a well-known socialite in high society. This time, my sister quickly grabbed our father’s clothes, crying, “Dad, I can’t bear to leave you. I want to go with you!” Her eyes gleamed with mockery as she looked at me. “Julia, go ahead and enjoy your miserable life. Wealth and glory belong to me now!” I just smiled faintly, thinking how naive she was. She didn’t know that I had grown tired of that cautious life where I had to watch my every step. I no longer cared about becoming the so-called premier socialite. ***** When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day of my parents’ divorce. My mother, Maddison Francis, held out the divorce certificate, looking at my sister Sofia Watson and me with reluctance in her eyes. “We’re divorced now. Julia and Sofia, come with me, and I’ll take good care of you both.” Before I could speak, Sofia had already stepped forward and tightly grabbed our father William Watson’s clothes. “Dad, I can’t bear to part with you. Please take me with you.” Maddison frowned, her face filled with concern. “Sofia, your father is unemployed right now. If you go with him, you might not even have enough to eat. Come with me. You’re my own children, and I’ll always treat you well.” Hearing this, Sofia smirked disdainfully. “So what? Just because Dad doesn’t have a job now doesn’t mean he’ll always be unsuccessful. When he makes money in the future, don’t expect to get any benefits from it.” She then looked up at William with hopeful eyes. “Dad, I believe in you. I’m willing to start from scratch with you. I know we’ll have a good life together!” William’s face lit up with pride as he patted Sofia’s head like he was rewarding her. Maddison sighed helplessly, disappointment evident on her face. I quietly took Maddison’s hand and said obediently, “Mom, I’ll go with you.” In my memory, Maddison had always been good to us. She would cook and do laundry for us, while William rarely came home and never inquired about our lives. Given Sofia’s personality, she should have chosen to go with Maddison without hesitation. As I pondered this, I noticed the mockery in her eyes as she looked at me, her lips curling upward uncontrollably. In that moment, I realized she had been reborn too. After the decision was made, Maddison and William went upstairs to sign the divorce agreement. Sofia glanced at me contemptuously. “Julia, how did it feel to be a socialite? Living a carefree life, being pampered by everyone—wasn’t it nice? Well, too bad. This time it’s my turn to live that life. You can stay in the mud pit with that incompetent mother of yours!” As Sofia happily left hand in hand with William, I almost couldn’t hold back my laughter. She was celebrating too soon. In my previous life, she had chosen to follow Maddison because she despised William for being unemployed, thinking life would be better that way. However, when Maddison took her to our grandmother Megan’s house in the countryside, she was completely stunned. Megan’s home was extremely remote, nestled deep in the mountains with no neighbors nearby—just their family living there. The living conditions were incredibly primitive: a few wooden posts supporting a grass-covered roof—that was their dwelling. Megan and Maddison made a living by creating pottery. In good months, they might sell a few pieces; in bad months, they struggled to put food on the table. Maddison brought her there to learn pottery from Megan. Sofia would wake up at four every morning, walk ten kilometers through mountain paths to attend the only school, and return home at ten at night, only to practice pottery for another two hours. The word “rest” didn’t exist in her life. Every day, she could only deal with mud—digging it, mixing it, molding it. This reality was completely different from the life she had imagined. She had thought she would become a rich young lady without any worries.

And what she imagined was my life—though in reality, my life was even more luxurious than she had pictured. While she walked mountain paths to school, I sat at my desk waiting for private tutors to come to my home. While she worked in the fields with dirt and soil, I studied nail art, makeup, and hairstyling, eventually opening my own salon. And while she worried about daily expenses, I had already become a top fashion designer. Many people said that Sofia ruined her life by following Maddison, who was born in the countryside. Meanwhile, I chose William and lived a life of wealth. Even Thomas Powell, the rich young man Sofia had secretly loved for years, was just one of many ordinary suitors pursuing me. She hated me for this. She believed I had stolen what should have been hers—the wealth, the status, and the man she loved. She also hated Maddison, unable to understand why Maddison had taken her instead of me. In her rage, she smashed all of Megan’s pottery. One night, she set fire to Megan’s thatched cottage. Maddison and Megan, who had been sound asleep, suffered severe burns and were rushed to the hospital. After doing all this, she happily planned to seek out William, but before she could even meet him, his servants threw her out onto the street, mistaking her for a beggar. As fate would have it, I was shopping with Thomas that day when we ran into her on the street. Blinded by jealousy, she completely lost her mind. She charged at me frantically, shoving me toward the busy road. Just as a vehicle was about to hit me, I grabbed her hand with all my strength. In the end, we both died, only to return to that moment when we had to make our life choices. This time, she didn’t hesitate to choose William—who currently had nothing but would eventually become the greatest philanthropist in the business world. I thought, “Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad to let her experience my life firsthand.” ***** After a bus journey that lasted over ten hours, Maddison finally brought me to Megan’s home. Standing at a distance, I saw Megan sitting on a small stool, skillfully working with clay on a pottery wheel. Maddison spoke up, “Mom, we’re here.” Megan merely glanced at us before continuing her work. “Good. Wash your hands and let’s get started,” she said. Without even the most basic pleasantries, she instructed us to begin learning pottery. I followed her directions, washed my hands, and sat beside her, carefully observing her every movement. Kneading, rolling, pinching, squeezing, pressing—in no time, an ordinary lump of clay transformed into a vase in her hands. When she finished, Megan turned to me and asked, “Are you sure you want to learn these crafts from me?” Looking into her eyes, I nodded firmly. “Alright,” she said. “Starting today, you’ll stay here and learn pottery from me, with no time off. If you find it too difficult, you can leave now.” “I’ll study hard,” I replied. No matter what happened, I didn’t want to return to William. Those memories felt like a nightmare I never wanted to experience again. Wearing cheap clothes and straw sandals that Megan had woven, I walked twelve miles of mountain roads to school every day. While studying, I used every spare moment to complete my homework, and when I returned home, I learned pottery at Megan’s side. On rainy days, I would lie on my wooden bed, watching water drip through the cracks in the thatched roof onto the floor, finding even this amusing. On weekends when I had time, I would browse through Megan’s study notes in her room. Despite this intense pace of learning and living, I didn’t feel exhausted. Instead, I felt I had more time to discover the beauty in life and appreciate its simple pleasures. This peaceful existence continued for several months, until the arrival of those two people disrupted everything.

That day, I had just returned home from school when I saw William and Sofia getting out of a custom vehicle. They were covering their noses, their faces clearly showing disgust. William said, “What kind of living environment is this? If I didn’t know better, I’d think this was a pig farm.” Sofia replied, “I don’t want to stay in a place like this for even a second. These shoes are custom-made, and this is absolutely not a place where I can linger.” William wore a perfectly tailored black suit, his hair neatly combed back, with an expensive watch on his wrist. He looked every bit the successful businessman. Sofia was dressed in a custom outfit, impeccably styled from head to toe. Looking at me, she said, “Isn’t this Julia? It’s only been a few months since we last met, how did you end up looking like this?” She looked me up and down, her eyes clearly showing disapproval. “Julia, what are these clothes you’re wearing? You look so sloppy.” William said, “See? Without me, you and your mother can’t do anything right.” His tone was full of superiority, as if in their eyes, I was completely worthless. I smiled slightly without explaining anything. How they thought of me was irrelevant; I was content with my current peaceful and fulfilling life. From the corner of my eye, I noticed Sofia’s fingers. Despite her decorated nails and elaborate manicure, I immediately recognized that the spaces between her nails had been pricked with needles. I had experienced the same thing. In my previous life, after leaving with William, I discovered he was only using me as a money-making tool. He locked me in an iron cage in the basement, forcing me to read ten books every day, with people specifically assigned to question me afterward. If I couldn’t answer or failed to complete his assigned tasks, he would whip me, stick needles between my nails, pour salt on my wounds, let insects bite my injuries, and lock me in a cage without food or water. Even when I fainted from hunger, he never cared. Beyond that, he strictly controlled every aspect of my life. My existence was in his hands; with the slightest pressure, I could lose my life. According to his requirements, I could only take three bites of any dish, had to show exactly six teeth when smiling, and my smile had to be proper and graceful. At 170 cm tall, I had to maintain a weight of 45 kg, and my nails couldn’t exceed 3 cm in length. Even the frequency of waving when greeting someone, the length of my steps when walking, the angle of my arm movements, and even my breathing rate while sleeping—all were under his surveillance. Any slight deviation would result in extremely cruel punishment. The pain still makes me feel suffocated whenever I think about it. I was certain Sofia was experiencing the same things now. Her fingers trembled slightly as she held her phone, unable to grip it firmly due to the pain between her nails. She wore elaborate clothes that covered her body completely, without an inch of exposed skin. Her face was covered with thick foundation, but red streaks were still visible if you looked closely. The so-called “high society socialite” only appeared glamorous on the surface, while behind the scenes, she lived a life like hell. Thinking about this, my gaze toward her unconsciously filled with sympathy. Sofia said, “Dad, weren’t you supposed to discuss something with Grandma and the others today? Why don’t you go in first? I want to chat with Julia for a bit.” After William left, Sofia walked over and slapped me across the face. I was momentarily stunned by the blow.

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My sister and I lost our parents when we were 17 in a sudden car accident. Our uncle Benjamin Morgan and aunt Bella Bennett each expressed interest in adopting one of us. My sister Hannah didn’t hesitate to choose our uncle who lived abroad. I chose to stay in the country with Bella, who was less financially stable. What Hannah didn’t anticipate was that Benjamin was actually struggling overseas. He only adopted her to get half of our parents’ compensation money. After gambling away that money and quickly losing it all, he abandoned her on the streets, leaving Hannah to end up in the slums. Meanwhile, I continuously earned scholarships and was admitted to the country’s top university with a bright future ahead. When I went abroad to visit her, she dragged me into the deep sea like a madwoman. When I opened my eyes again, I found we had returned to the past, reborn on the day we made our choices. This time, she quickly chose to stay with Bella. But she didn’t know that this was when the real nightmare would begin.***** Bella said, “Hannah, Rachel, this is your uncle, Benjamin. He hasn’t been back to the country for ten years and came back especially for this occasion.” I listened to the familiar voice, feeling completely surreal. It seemed like just a second ago, I was being dragged into the deep sea by Hannah, my nostrils filled with the salty bitterness of seawater. Now I saw relatives and friends dressed in black, holding white flowers. I knew I had been reborn, back to the day of my parents’ funeral after the car accident. Standing before us was Benjamin in a suit, who had rushed back looking travel-worn. He gently stroked Hannah’s and my hair, sighing, “Poor children, you’ve suffered so much. Would either of you like to come with me to study in America?” I looked at Hannah. In our previous life, she had rushed into Benjamin’s arms crying as soon as he walked in. But this time, she clearly avoided Benjamin’s gaze, clutching Bella’s clothes, tears in her eyes, saying, “I… I can’t bear to leave Aunt Bella, or my classmates here.” Before she could finish, her tears had already soaked Bella’s sleeve. Bella hugged her compassionately, comforting her in a gentle voice. But I noticed her lips curling into an almost imperceptible smile. Obviously, she had been reborn too. I turned to Benjamin with a smile and said, “I’d like to go abroad with you.” And so, the guardianship of the twin sisters was decided. After the funeral, Hannah said to me, “You’ve really been made stupid by all that studying. Do you think America is some great place? I never wanted to go there—you just picked up what I rejected.” I didn’t want to argue with her. Hannah thought I had an easy life in our previous existence, but she didn’t know that Bella’s home was actually more dangerous than anywhere else. Still, we each make our own path in life. Hannah and I are twin sisters. Since childhood, our parents often traveled for business. Whenever they returned from trips, they would bring us interesting gifts. Whether it was pretty dresses or cute teddy bears, Hannah always rushed to pick her favorite before I could. Even with two identical dolls, she would choose the one with the rounder, cuter face. When I was little, I would often cry and fight with her, but after every quarrel, our parents would scold me, saying, “Hannah isn’t as healthy as you, don’t fight with her, be good.” At those moments, Hannah would always flash me a smug smile. Her smile seemed to say, “See, I’m the one who’s always favored.” So in our previous life, after our parents died, when Bella rushed overnight from her small city with bags of belongings, Hannah wasn’t actually very welcoming. She quietly organized all her competition certificates from childhood, waiting for the day Benjamin would return. When Benjamin came back, Hannah immediately threw herself into his arms, sobbing. When Bella and Benjamin asked about our adoption preferences, Hannah quickly pulled out her prepared certificates and said, “Uncle Benjamin, I’ve always been good at foreign languages, and I can sing and dance too. Rachel only knows how to bury herself in books. America promotes happy education, so I want to go to the United States with you.” Benjamin nodded approvingly as he looked at her certificates, then turned to me and asked, “Rachel, what about you?” I sighed inwardly. Hannah had always performed poorly in school. To ensure she would have opportunities in the future, our family spent a lot of money developing her interests and talents. As for me, my family only said one thing: “Your grades are so good, there’s no need to waste money on extra tutoring.” I said, “I’ll stay with Aunt Bella. The educational environment here is better suited for me.” After our guardianship arrangements were settled, Benjamin immediately took Bella and a lawyer to divide their assets. Once Hannah arrived in America, she entered what seemed like a completely unrestricted environment. The foreign education system emphasized happiness and freedom. Free from heavy coursework and tutoring, she quickly fell in with international students who didn’t care about studying. She spent her days in bars, skipping classes, drinking, and shopping. But before long, she discovered that Benjamin’s middle-class lifestyle was just a facade, and his financial situation was actually terrible. To support Hannah’s extravagant spending, Benjamin had invested all his assets and Hannah’s education fund in the stock market, losing everything. He also became mentally unstable after accumulating high-interest debts, made mistakes at work, and was fired. Benjamin made Hannah withdraw from her expensive private high school, and they had to constantly hide from debt collectors. Without an education, Hannah could only work as an entry-level server at a restaurant. Despite her proud personality, she found herself arguing with coworkers over a few dollars in tips every day. One day, the restaurant’s TV broadcast news about outstanding students from Peking University visiting Ivy League schools for an exchange program. The plate in her hand crashed to the floor. At that moment, I appeared in the center of the screen, smiling brightly. Hannah felt intense jealousy. She couldn’t understand why she had fallen so low while the sister she had always looked down on had achieved success. So when we met again, she killed me without hesitation. During every long night in that poor neighborhood, Hannah would wonder where exactly she had gone wrong. Eventually, she realized that choosing to follow Benjamin to America had been a mistake from the very beginning. This time around, she chose Bella without hesitation. As she wished, I began the overseas journey she had taken in her previous life. This time, she hoped to replace me and become the outstanding student everyone admired, while I would bear all her previous failures and pain—including the endless debt and the never-ending dirty dishes.

Before going abroad, my relationship with Benjamin gradually became more familiar. His daily focus was always on the stock market charts on his phone. I noticed he’d been sighing at his screen frequently, so I deliberately showed him my investment account’s performance curve. Benjamin looked surprised and asked, “Rachel, you have a stock account too?” I nodded and said, “My dad opened this account for me years ago. I’ve been investing my allowance, and I’ve made quite a bit of money now.” In truth, I’d made more than just “quite a bit.” Benjamin stared at my returns, which were dozens of times higher than his, looking thoughtful. I seized the opportunity to make my request: “Uncle Benjamin, could I apply for some of my education funds early? The market is really good right now, but my principal is too small.” Seeing his hesitation, I added, “You can consider it an advance on my living expenses. If I lose any money, I’ll make it up through work-study programs. You won’t suffer any losses.” After hearing this, he smiled and eventually agreed to give me thirty thousand dollars. Looking at the numbers in my account, I began planning. Based on my memories from my previous life, e-commerce and social media would be the booming industries in the future. If I invested now, I’d definitely see substantial profits in a few years. Even without relying on Benjamin later, this money would be enough for me to complete my education in America. After arriving in the US, Benjamin had initially planned for me to attend a local high school with many international students, but I chose a less expensive high school in a neighboring state. This would save on expenses, and Benjamin naturally agreed. For me, the American high school curriculum was very easy. After all, I had already gone through extensive exam preparation in my previous life. I knew that excellent grades alone wouldn’t be enough to get into an Ivy League school. Armed with research knowledge from my previous life, I confidently knocked on the office door of my physics teacher, Melissa Marsh. She was very impressed with my abilities and praised me: “Rachel, you’re the most exceptional high school student I’ve ever met.” Later, she recommended me to her former classmate, a professor currently teaching at Yale University. By the end of the semester, everyone in the high school knew I had the highest GPA and was already involved in a collaborative project with Yale University. The professors held me in high regard. “Rachel, would you like to join us for a vacation in Egypt?” my classmate Jane Hart asked hopefully before summer break. I smiled and replied, “I’m sorry, Jane, but I need to go back to China to visit family.” I wondered how Hannah was doing living with Bella. I didn’t tell anyone in advance about my return to China. After landing and freshening up, I went directly to Bella’s home. As I approached the building, I heard Bella’s mother-in-law, Sarah Pearce, shouting in a shrill voice: “Why isn’t Hannah up yet? The dishes from last night are still piled up—why aren’t they washed?” Then came the sound of someone banging on a door, followed by Hannah’s crying. I frowned. I realized that events were unfolding exactly as they had in my previous life. Sarah was a crude woman from the countryside—ill-tempered, caustic, and extremely stingy. In my previous life, she had been willing to adopt me because I would inherit part of my parents’ estate. Once she got the money, I became a thorn in her side—a “distant relative” still in school who needed financial support. “Sarah, please don’t be angry. I wasn’t feeling well yesterday and forgot to wash the dishes. Hannah has been under a lot of pressure with school lately. Please let her rest a bit longer, and I’ll do the washing,” I overheard Bella explaining in a placating tone as I got closer. Sarah loudly responded, “You two are always ganging up against me, aren’t you?” After saying this, she deliberately sat on the floor, crying and shouting, “You eat my food, live in my house, and now you want to drive me away. Is that fair?” Bella’s family lived in an old walk-up building. By the time I reached their floor, many neighbors had already come out to see what the commotion was about. Since I was an unfamiliar face, a middle-aged man quietly explained the situation to me. Apparently, Hannah not only had to do most of the housework but was also frequently verbally abused by Sarah and Bella’s husband, John. “Sarah makes a scene every time just to force Bella to hand over her money. Ever since they adopted Hannah, there’s been a fight every three or five days, and it all comes down to that small subsidy payment.” I gave a cold smile, realizing their behavior hadn’t changed at all from my previous life.

Just then, I heard Hannah screaming, “I’m not washing the dishes! Why should I wash dishes when I don’t even get to eat?” John rushed out and slapped her twice across the face without mercy. As he was about to deliver a third slap, I caught his hand. He turned to look at me in confusion, noticing how much I resembled Hannah before realizing I was her twin sister. He cursed, “You nosy woman, I’ll hit you too!” He tried to pull his hand away but found he couldn’t break free from my grip. I increased the pressure, and he immediately felt intense pain shooting through his body like an electric current, causing him to cry out loudly. “Rachel?” Bella called out hesitantly when she saw me, then started walking toward me. Meanwhile, Sarah, seeing John in pain, stopped her crying and ran over to try to pry my hand away. I kicked her aside with one foot. At that moment, John tried to retaliate but accidentally hit Bella, who was approaching to mediate. Already pale, she collapsed to the ground unconscious. I quickly knocked down both Sarah and John with kicks, then shouted to Hannah, “Call an ambulance, now!” Sarah angrily said, “What ambulance? Going to the hospital costs too much money. Bella’s just too pampered. She’s so fragile—she should do more housework.” Seeing Hannah’s hesitation, I stopped arguing and directly called emergency services myself. While waiting for the ambulance, Sarah looked at me and said, “You look so much like Hannah. Are you her sister who went to the United States?” I didn’t deny it, and she continued in a forceful tone, “Since we’re relatives, and you’ve beaten me and John like this, we’ll reduce the medical expenses for you—just give us twenty thousand dollars.” I replied, “Medical expenses? Sure, let’s call the police right now.” I continued, “We can calculate exactly how many times you’ve hit Hannah and Aunt Bella over the years, and while we’re at it, we can discuss your child abuse. After all, the neighbors can testify.” I pretended to take out my phone to call the police. The surrounding neighbors began criticizing Sarah’s past behavior. One neighbor said, “Sarah, didn’t you beat Bella until she miscarried before?” Another neighbor added, “Yeah, and just a few days ago, you locked Hannah outside in the cold.” Seeing everyone condemning her, Sarah’s expression changed. She was the type who only dared to lose her temper at home but would lose her nerve when facing formal situations or legal authorities, especially since her mistreatment of Bella and Hannah was undeniable. Seeing the situation, John quickly stepped in to stop me, saying, “Hey, we’re all family here. Let’s not make a big deal out of this.” Seeing them back down, I didn’t say anything more, but I was extremely worried looking at Bella’s colorless face. At the hospital, the doctor examined her and announced that Bella was pregnant. I was shocked. In my previous life, she never got pregnant after adopting me. And shortly after I started college, she divorced John. I wasn’t sure if this child would be a blessing or a curse for Bella. Meanwhile, Bella slowly regained consciousness amid Sarah and John’s laughter. When she heard the news of her pregnancy, her face lit up with joy. Sarah happily said, “Bella, you finally have good news.” Her face was wrinkled with smiles. John chimed in, “You must give birth to a son to continue our family line.” Bella nodded repeatedly, tears seemingly glistening in her eyes. She had insisted on marrying John years ago but had been unable to conceive for many years, making her feel like she had failed him. It was precisely this guilt that allowed Sarah to control her all this time. I walked into the hospital room, interrupting their cheerful family moment. “Aunt Bella, how are you feeling now? Should we call the doctor to check on you again?” Bella turned to look at me, gripping my hand tightly. “Rachel, I’m fine now. Thank you for today.” I smiled and shook my head. Bella looked at Hannah standing beside me and took her hand as well. “Hannah, I’m pregnant now. You’ll have a little cousin soon.” I noticed Hannah forcing a smile, though her eyes remained cold. Sarah saw this and laughed coldly. “I knew she wouldn’t be genuinely happy for us. She doesn’t care about this family at all.” She added smugly, “But Hannah, whether you’re happy or not, from now on, you’ll be responsible for all the housework. We can’t let Bella get too tired, or it might affect the baby’s health. You’d better be careful.” Bella quietly protested, “I’m not that fragile. I can still do housework. Hannah is still young.” John chimed in, “Don’t argue. Mom is right. We can’t risk anything affecting you or the baby. Hannah, we’ve raised you for all these years. Now it’s time for you to repay us.” Seeing the family’s apparent harmony, Hannah lowered her head and remained silent. I called her out of the hospital room and asked, “Hannah, is this the life you fought so hard for?” My words struck a nerve, and she angrily retorted, “Rachel, what gives you the right to mock me?” She looked down at my T-shirt and jeans, smirking. “You’re dressed so poorly. Looks like your life abroad isn’t going so well either.” Hannah hadn’t changed—still the same person who judged by appearances, loved to argue, but lacked capability. I didn’t want to argue with her, only reminding her to take good care of Bella and to call the police immediately if anyone in the family became violent again. Hannah impatiently scoffed, a flash of hostility in her eyes. “Stop pretending to be the good person here. Take care of your own life first.” A few days later, I heard Bella had been discharged. When I visited her home, I expected to face Hannah’s sarcasm again, but surprisingly, she welcomed me with a smile. I chatted with Bella for a long time, noticing her face was still pale, so I prepared to leave. During our conversation, Hannah had been busy cooking in the kitchen. Hearing me open the door, she actually offered to walk me out—a first. Bella looked pleased at this. “You two should chat for a bit. I’ll prepare something for you when you get back, Hannah.” Despite my protests, she smiled and pushed us out the door before heading back to the kitchen. Walking through the old neighborhood with Hannah, neither of us spoke. Suddenly, something felt off. Hannah didn’t just seem to dislike me and not want to talk. She was pale, cold sweat on her forehead, looking extremely nervous and uneasy. I grabbed her hand and demanded, “What have you done?” Her eyes darted away as she stammered, “You’re talking nonsense! I haven’t done anything!” With a growing sense of dread, I pulled her back toward Bella’s house. Hannah struggled desperately, but she was no match for me with my black belt in Taekwondo. When we returned to Bella’s home, we witnessed a shocking scene. Bella lay at the kitchen doorway, the lower half of her body in a pool of blood, her eyes unfocused—she had passed out from pain. We rushed her to the hospital as quickly as possible, but the doctor’s diagnosis was that Bella had already miscarried.

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My parents both died in a car accident. The only people willing to adopt my sister and me were the surgeon who performed their operation and the debt collector who came to collect what they owed. My sister said to me, “I’ve never been able to bear seeing others suffer. My biggest dream is to become a doctor and save lives. Please let me fulfill this dream.” She deliberately chose the respectable-looking doctor, pushing me toward the debt collector to pay off our parents’ debts. But she later discovered that the doctor not only lived in poverty but also required her to dissect various animals daily to practice her skills. My sister’s life became extremely difficult. Meanwhile, following the debt collector’s arrangements, I married his son and became part of his family, appearing prosperous to outsiders. My sister grew intensely jealous and poisoned me during one of our meetings. When I opened my eyes again, we had returned to the day of our parents’ accident. This time, my sister rushed to choose the debt collector, saying she wanted to become part of his family. I remained silent, thinking, “Someone as hypocritical as her perhaps needs that kind of environment to truly understand what real life is.” ***** After drinking the juice, my throat immediately swelled, making it difficult to breathe. I desperately turned to my sister, Amelie Hughes, for help. But she covered my mouth with her hand and said, “Scarlett, just hold on a little longer. It’ll get better soon. Ambulance resources are limited—if they come for you, what about people with heart attacks or car accidents?” Fighting through the excruciating pain, I broke free from her grip and desperately cried out, “The juice is poisoned! Help me!” She frantically slapped me hard, shouting, “Shut up! Stop talking nonsense!” Pinned to the ground by her, I couldn’t make a sound and closed my eyes in suffocation and despair. Afterward, she also drank the juice and lay quietly on the floor, waiting for death. With her dying breath, she still scolded me harshly, “Scarlett, you’re so inconsiderate. If you say the juice is poisoned, how will the store stay in business?” But that juice was something she had brought—it had nothing to do with the store. When I opened my eyes again, Amelie was clinging tightly to the arm of a heavily tattooed man, her face full of desperate eagerness as she said, “Mr. Bernard, my parents are gone, and they can’t repay what they owed you. But I’m willing to pay their debt. I’ll go with you. Scarlett is incompetent—she’s not suitable for debt repayment.” Her tone was filled with pitiful helplessness. Looking at her face, so similar to mine yet suddenly younger by more than a decade, I understood. I had returned to the past—to many years ago, the day our parents had the accident. Dr. Matthew Murray, the surgeon who operated on my parents, was trying to persuade her with regret on his face, “Are you sure you don’t want to come with me? I can take care of both of you.” As he spoke, he glanced at Wyatt Bernard, the debt collector standing nearby. Wyatt had a buzz cut, wore thick gold chains, and had tattoos covering his arms. His speech was crude—the typical image of a thug. Matthew couldn’t imagine what fate awaited the girls in his hands. In my previous life, when Wyatt was about to take me away, Matthew had said the same thing out of compassion. But before I could agree, Amelie quickly told me, “You can’t. It’s already difficult enough for Dr. Murray to adopt someone unrelated to him like me. He can’t adopt you too—the burden would be too great. Besides, Mom and Dad did owe Mr. Bernard money. If he leaves empty-handed after coming to collect, that wouldn’t be fair to him either. Scarlett, you’ve always been stronger than me. I’m too weak. I believe if our parents were still here, they would want you to go with Mr. Bernard.”

Her words sounded sweet, but she was just worried that Wyatt wouldn’t collect his debt and would trouble her again, affecting her future life. So she pushed me toward the creditor Wyatt while choosing the seemingly respectable and reliable Matthew for herself. But this time, she not only actively chose Wyatt, but also spoke mockingly about Matthew’s kindness, “Dr. Murray, with that meager fixed salary of yours, how could you possibly support anyone? By not going with you, I’m actually doing you a favor.” I knew she had been reborn too. In our previous life, after learning that I was living better than her, she grew jealous and poisoned my juice, intending for us to die together. No one expected that we would both return to the past. So this time, she not only chose Wyatt earlier than I could, but before leaving, she leaned close to my ear and whispered, “Scarlett, our last life was so unfair. I’ve always been a good person, so why did I end up worse off than you? This time things are finally fair. Heaven has seen my efforts, and now it’s my turn to live the good life.” She continued, “As for you, spend the rest of your life with those frogs and lab rats.” She walked away with a spring in her step, as if afraid I might change my mind and steal her choice. But in reality, I could barely hold back my laughter. She had no idea how much I had envied her in our previous life—her becoming a doctor, having a respectable profession, being someone people looked up to. Meanwhile, I had merely been a tool for the Bernard family, outwardly glamorous but living a chaotic life without dignity. So when Matthew asked if I wanted to become a doctor after she left, I nodded firmly. I instinctively looked at my hands. Now, there were no tattoos from cigarette burns or knife scars, no uncontrollable trembling. I could finally use my hands to save people. I thought, “Good. This is perfect.” At the same time, Amelie’s laughter echoed through the hospital corridor. She said, “Mr. Bernard, do you really want me to marry that man, Ryan Lewis? I’m willing, of course I’m willing!” Hearing this, I couldn’t help but smile. In our previous life, Amelie only saw my outward glamour. She had no idea that behind closed doors, my marriage with Ryan was extremely painful, almost a disaster. I wondered, “Why is she so eager to embrace this kind of life?”

To become a doctor, I first needed to get into medical school. So after completing the adoption paperwork, Matthew sent me back to school to continue my studies. What I didn’t expect was that Amelie would return to the same school. The first thing she said to me after returning was: “Scarlett, tell me, what type of girls does Ryan like?” She also said: “Although we’ve had some unpleasant incidents in the past, I am still your sister after all. You should want me to be happy, right?” She made it sound like we’d just had some minor disagreements. But in reality, she had personally poisoned me. I couldn’t be bothered with her and had nothing to tell her anyway. Ryan didn’t like me, so I had no idea what kind of girls he preferred. But to force me to talk, Amelie began targeting me at school in various ways. Not only did she gather allies to spread rumors about me, but she also wrote insulting words on my desk and chair, like “schemer” and “ungrateful.” Later, she even mocked me in front of classmates and gave me nicknames. I didn’t respond to any of it, which I found amusing. Her tactics were so childish, like something an elementary school student would do. They posed no threat to me whatsoever. I wasn’t a child anymore; I had more important things to do. Like studying. After being reborn, it had been over ten years since I last attended school, and suddenly having to prepare for college entrance exams was extremely difficult for me. I wished I had twenty-four hours a day just to study. When Amelie saw I wasn’t responding, she started using softer methods to disturb me. She came to talk to me every day with different approaches: “Scarlett, you’re not really planning to become a doctor, are you? That profession has no future and doesn’t make much money.” She continued: “Look at me. Since joining the Bernard family, I get new luxury items every day. After I marry Ryan, my life will be even more wealthy. Now tell me…” Before she could finish, I interrupted her: “Mmhmm, I wish you both happiness. May you never part.” I clutched my test papers, not even looking up. Her words and actions were like punching a pillow—they had no effect on me whatsoever. This only made her more jealous and suspicious of me. She began to mock me: “All you do is study, you’re so rigid. What’s the use of studying anyway?” She questioned me further: “Oh, are you trying to use your education to get close to Ryan again, to reclaim everything you once had? Let me tell you, that’s impossible. The Bernard family isn’t…” I calmly replied: “No, I won’t fight for any of that anymore. It’s all yours, just don’t disturb my studies.” She became so angry that she tore up my test papers on the spot and shouted: “Why can you live so calmly? What are you pretending to be? Scarlett, you’re always like this. Do you really think you can have a better life than me this time?” Looking at the shredded paper on the floor, I sighed helplessly: “Amelie, who’s comparing themselves to whom? You live your life, and I’ll live mine. Do you think everyone is like you, only wanting to rely on men for their livelihood?” I added: “Besides, if you really want to depend on Ryan, you should spend more time getting to know him instead of bothering me. You don’t study, you don’t pursue him, why do you spend every day pestering me? Are you trying to build a relationship with me?” She was left speechless, then angrily slammed the table and stormed out of the classroom. I thought she wouldn’t come looking for me again after that. But the next day, she appeared before me again: “Scarlett, are you really not going to help me? We’re sisters. If Mom and Dad were still here, they would be very disappointed to see you like this.” When she suddenly mentioned my parents, my heart sank. Although many years had passed, my deceased parents remained the softest, most sensitive part of my heart. So I took a deep breath and told her: “Amelie, I really don’t know what type of women Ryan likes. Honestly, I even doubt he likes women at all.” I spoke very sincerely, and this was the truth. But she suddenly covered her face and burst into tears, emotionally shouting: “Scarlett, so you still blame me for killing Mom and Dad, don’t you?” I was completely bewildered. I only noticed that the entire class was staring at me. When I turned to look at her, I caught a glimpse of a satisfied smile forming at the corner of her mouth.

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Vincent Cox lost his memory after being injured while saving me, forgetting our love and only remembering Kelly Talesman, whom he liked in his youth. They shamelessly held hands and kissed in front of me. Later, I accidentally overheard his conversation with a friend. “I didn’t lose my memory that easily. Kelly has cancer, and I want to accompany her through her remaining days, but I was afraid Cathy would be upset, so I came up with this plan. Once she passes away, I’ll immediately ‘recover’ my memory and marry Cathy.” So I played along with his scheme, becoming the stranger he claimed I was. He panicked and desperately recited every promise he’d ever made to me. But I was already done with him. ***** While Vincent and I were out on a photography trip, our car broke down. He held me tightly in his arms, protecting me completely. I wasn’t hurt at all, but he fell unconscious. I stayed by his side at the hospital for a long time. When he finally woke up, I rushed to embrace him, all my suppressed worry exploding in that moment. Crying, I said to him, “Vincent, you’re finally awake. Do you know how worried I’ve been…” “Who are you?” Vincent interrupted, pushing me away and looking at me with cold detachment. I froze, responding anxiously, “I’m Cathy Jameson, your fiancée. What’s wrong?” He frowned and said, “I don’t know you. I’ve always loved Kelly. Why would I marry you?” A sense of dread rose within me, and I quickly called for the doctor. The doctor explained that Vincent had amnesia and couldn’t tell when—or if—his memory would ever return. His memory was stuck ten years in the past, before he had met me. I brought him home and patiently showed him around: “This is our home. This is a gift you bought me. This is a souvenir we purchased together on vacation.” But his expression remained blank. He just smiled awkwardly but politely: “I’m sorry, Ms. Jameson, but I truly don’t remember anything.” He busied himself scrolling through his phone, saying he needed to find Kelly. I smiled bitterly, telling myself it would be okay, that he would remember eventually. He became like this because he saved me, so I couldn’t blame him, but my heart still ached involuntarily. As Vincent scrolled through his phone, his face suddenly contorted with pain. He murmured, “How can this be? Kelly has cancer and is dying. How could this happen?” He covered his face with his hands, crying silently. The news of her cancer shocked me, but I said nothing, just sitting quietly beside Vincent to comfort him. Just then, our doorbell rang. I opened it to find Kelly standing there. Seeing her, I was about to close the door to keep Vincent from knowing she was here, but he came over. Kelly immediately rushed forward to embrace him, and Vincent didn’t push her away. With tears in her eyes, Kelly pulled out a letter and said, “I just discovered the secret message of love you hid in the teddy bear you gave me. Ten years ago, I didn’t have the chance to tell you I loved you. Now I have cancer with little time left. I don’t want to leave life with regrets, so I came to find you. I just want to know, does that love still belong to me?” “Of course, my love has always been yours,” Vincent gazed at her tenderly, his eyes full of compassion and cherishing. Then he held the back of her head and kissed her fiercely and passionately, his youthful love exploding in that moment. But he forgot I was still standing there—forgot about the fiancée he had once risked his life to protect.

The image of Vincent protecting me, holding me tightly in his arms, still lingered in my mind. Yet here he was, kissing another woman right in front of me. My heart felt like it was being torn apart. An uncontrollable sadness spread through me, threatening to drown me completely. I walked forward, pulled Kelly away, and slapped her hard across the face. “This is my home. Please leave. Vincent is my fiancé. What you’re doing makes you the other woman. Have you no shame?” Kelly smirked disdainfully and said, “So what if you’re his fiancée? Ask him who he really loves.” I looked at Vincent, but he pulled Kelly behind him, distancing himself from me. “Ms. Jameson, Kelly is sick. If you have a problem, take it up with me. Don’t bully someone who’s ill,” he said. He continued, “Besides, I’ve told you countless times, I don’t know you. I love Kelly. Please don’t insult her by calling her the other woman. From where I stand, you’re the intruder here.” His words pierced my heart like tiny needles. Tears streamed down my face as I struggled to believe he truly remembered nothing. Surely our love had left some evidence behind. Crying, I went to the bedroom and retrieved a photo album. I opened it in front of him, pointing at the pictures. “This is us watching fireworks together. We had just started dating, and you promised to love me forever. And here we are at the amusement park, where you said you’d always protect my childlike spirit, no matter how old we got.” My tears kept falling onto the album, but I smiled as all our beautiful memories flooded my mind. Vincent’s eyes flashed with a hint of reluctance before quickly returning to their distant expression. He threw the album to the floor and said coldly, “Enough! Ms. Jameson, I told you I don’t remember. Maybe we were in love once, but so what? I’ve forgotten everything. I only remember loving Kelly. Do you expect me to spend my life with you based on memories that don’t exist for me?” I stood frozen, watching those photos—the ones he once said would be displayed at our wedding—scattered across the floor. Only then did I truly understand that the man before me genuinely couldn’t remember me. I said nothing more, silently crouching down to carefully pick up each photo. I wiped them clean and placed them back in the album, just as Vincent had once treasured them himself. Kelly leaned weakly against Vincent, pretending to be magnanimous. “Vince, don’t blame her. I’m dying, and I can’t bear to see others in pain. I don’t hold it against her. Look at my face—it’s still a bit swollen, but it doesn’t hurt.” Vincent touched her face, growing even more concerned, and pulled her along to buy medicine. I watched Vincent’s back as he led her away, suddenly feeling disconnected from reality. This all seemed like a nightmare—if only I could wake up soon. They didn’t return until evening. Kelly didn’t come back with him all the way, instead saying a reluctant goodbye at the door. “Vince, I’ll stay at the hotel rather than come to your place. Cathy’s still here, and I might get slapped again for being the other woman. You know my body can’t handle that kind of stress.” She glanced at me, feigning fear. I responded to her, “Don’t ever come here again. This is Vincent’s and my home. You’re not welcome.” Vincent looked back at me, then turned and embraced her, comforting her. “It’s okay. I’ll move out tomorrow to be with you. How about we buy a new house together?” Kelly nodded with a smile and left under Vincent’s lingering gaze.

He walked into the bedroom without looking at me once, as if I didn’t exist. Then he took out his suitcase and began packing his things, but he didn’t take any of the items that belonged to both of us. I watched him pack until midnight in silence. When he finished, he didn’t want to stay a moment longer and walked straight out the door, showing no attachment to me whatsoever. Watching his resolute figure walk away, I thought about the days ahead without him. I didn’t want to lose him—a man who had risked his life to save me. So I ran after him and called out, “I’ll stay with you until we’re old.” Those were the words he said when he proposed to me. Now that he had lost his memory, it was my turn to say these words to him. Vincent paused, slowly turned around, and saw me smiling through my tears. He walked toward me with heavy steps, and that moment felt so familiar. I couldn’t help wondering if his memory had returned. But his next words doused me with cold water. He said, “Ms. Jameson, I’m sorry to see you upset, but I really can’t do this. Please don’t put me in this position.” So he still didn’t remember. I cried my heart out, wanting to release all the pain inside. “I’ve had a crush on you since high school. You didn’t know me then, but I quietly looked after you in my own way. Later, when you said you wanted to become a photographer, I was the one who stayed by your side, supporting your dream.” “Your most famous collection of photos was taken for me. You said I was your muse, your inspiration. You promised to love me forever. You got hurt and lost your memory trying to protect me. I’ve loved you for ten years and been loved by you for five. I really don’t want to lose you,” I said. Vincent wiped away my tears and pulled me into his arms. I cried uncontrollably against his chest, soaking his shoulder within minutes. He remained silent, allowing me to hold him, letting me cry. “What are you doing?” Kelly suddenly appeared, interrupting us. Vincent nervously pushed me away, like a child caught doing something wrong. He explained, “Kel, don’t misunderstand. I was just comforting her.” Kelly rubbed her temples, looking unsteady on her feet. “Vince, if you have feelings for Cathy, I’ll step aside and leave you two alone.” She turned to leave. “I should go. I was just feeling unwell in the middle of the night and wanted your company. I didn’t mean to see this, I…” Kelly suddenly collapsed. Vincent rushed forward to catch her, then looked back at me and said, “Don’t contact me again. I don’t want Kel to misunderstand.” But I was his fiancée. Vincent never came back after that. I only learned about him when I accidentally came across Kelly’s TikTok account. She was documenting the final stage of her life and her love story with the boy who had a crush on her when they were young. Many followers were moved by their love story. User A: [Oh my God, what are you doing? They finally got together after all this time.] User B: [This love is truly touching. Kelly, if you die, Vincent will never forget you.] But some users questioned whether they were putting on a show. User C: [If she has cancer, how does she have so much energy to go out and have fun? She looks rosy-cheeked and healthier than me.] This comment made me realize something might be off about Kelly’s illness. Apart from appearing somewhat fragile at times, she didn’t look like a sick person at all. To investigate, I reached out to a good friend who specializes in treating this type of disease and told her everything about Vincent’s situation. After some thought, she concluded: “Something’s not right. Late-stage stomach cancer patients suffer terribly—not just from unbearable abdominal pain but also from mental confusion. Yet she’s out having fun and updating videos every day. It doesn’t look like she really has cancer.” So Kelly was faking it. After learning this, I wanted to expose her in front of Vincent right away, but something still felt off. Kelly had announced her cancer diagnosis shortly before Vincent lost his memory—the timing seemed too convenient. To help Vincent recover his memory and uncover the truth, I took his medical records to a different public hospital for another opinion. The doctor there said: “There’s no damage to his brain, so we can rule out traumatic amnesia. This appears to be psychogenic amnesia, caused by severe psychological trauma.” I stood there stunned, leaving without even thanking the doctor. At that moment, a terrifying possibility occurred to me: Vincent might be faking his memory loss.

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Vincent Cox lost his memory after being injured while saving me, forgetting our love and only remembering Kelly Talesman, whom he liked in his youth. They shamelessly held hands and kissed in front of me. Later, I accidentally overheard his conversation with a friend. “I didn’t lose my memory that easily. Kelly has cancer, and I want to accompany her through her remaining days, but I was afraid Cathy would be upset, so I came up with this plan. Once she passes away, I’ll immediately ‘recover’ my memory and marry Cathy.” So I played along with his scheme, becoming the stranger he claimed I was. He panicked and desperately recited every promise he’d ever made to me. But I was already done with him. ***** While Vincent and I were out on a photography trip, our car broke down. He held me tightly in his arms, protecting me completely. I wasn’t hurt at all, but he fell unconscious. I stayed by his side at the hospital for a long time. When he finally woke up, I rushed to embrace him, all my suppressed worry exploding in that moment. Crying, I said to him, “Vincent, you’re finally awake. Do you know how worried I’ve been…” “Who are you?” Vincent interrupted, pushing me away and looking at me with cold detachment. I froze, responding anxiously, “I’m Cathy Jameson, your fiancée. What’s wrong?” He frowned and said, “I don’t know you. I’ve always loved Kelly. Why would I marry you?” A sense of dread rose within me, and I quickly called for the doctor. The doctor explained that Vincent had amnesia and couldn’t tell when—or if—his memory would ever return. His memory was stuck ten years in the past, before he had met me. I brought him home and patiently showed him around: “This is our home. This is a gift you bought me. This is a souvenir we purchased together on vacation.” But his expression remained blank. He just smiled awkwardly but politely: “I’m sorry, Ms. Jameson, but I truly don’t remember anything.” He busied himself scrolling through his phone, saying he needed to find Kelly. I smiled bitterly, telling myself it would be okay, that he would remember eventually. He became like this because he saved me, so I couldn’t blame him, but my heart still ached involuntarily. As Vincent scrolled through his phone, his face suddenly contorted with pain. He murmured, “How can this be? Kelly has cancer and is dying. How could this happen?” He covered his face with his hands, crying silently. The news of her cancer shocked me, but I said nothing, just sitting quietly beside Vincent to comfort him. Just then, our doorbell rang. I opened it to find Kelly standing there. Seeing her, I was about to close the door to keep Vincent from knowing she was here, but he came over. Kelly immediately rushed forward to embrace him, and Vincent didn’t push her away. With tears in her eyes, Kelly pulled out a letter and said, “I just discovered the secret message of love you hid in the teddy bear you gave me. Ten years ago, I didn’t have the chance to tell you I loved you. Now I have cancer with little time left. I don’t want to leave life with regrets, so I came to find you. I just want to know, does that love still belong to me?” “Of course, my love has always been yours,” Vincent gazed at her tenderly, his eyes full of compassion and cherishing. Then he held the back of her head and kissed her fiercely and passionately, his youthful love exploding in that moment. But he forgot I was still standing there—forgot about the fiancée he had once risked his life to protect.

The image of Vincent protecting me, holding me tightly in his arms, still lingered in my mind. Yet here he was, kissing another woman right in front of me. My heart felt like it was being torn apart. An uncontrollable sadness spread through me, threatening to drown me completely. I walked forward, pulled Kelly away, and slapped her hard across the face. “This is my home. Please leave. Vincent is my fiancé. What you’re doing makes you the other woman. Have you no shame?” Kelly smirked disdainfully and said, “So what if you’re his fiancée? Ask him who he really loves.” I looked at Vincent, but he pulled Kelly behind him, distancing himself from me. “Ms. Jameson, Kelly is sick. If you have a problem, take it up with me. Don’t bully someone who’s ill,” he said. He continued, “Besides, I’ve told you countless times, I don’t know you. I love Kelly. Please don’t insult her by calling her the other woman. From where I stand, you’re the intruder here.” His words pierced my heart like tiny needles. Tears streamed down my face as I struggled to believe he truly remembered nothing. Surely our love had left some evidence behind. Crying, I went to the bedroom and retrieved a photo album. I opened it in front of him, pointing at the pictures. “This is us watching fireworks together. We had just started dating, and you promised to love me forever. And here we are at the amusement park, where you said you’d always protect my childlike spirit, no matter how old we got.” My tears kept falling onto the album, but I smiled as all our beautiful memories flooded my mind. Vincent’s eyes flashed with a hint of reluctance before quickly returning to their distant expression. He threw the album to the floor and said coldly, “Enough! Ms. Jameson, I told you I don’t remember. Maybe we were in love once, but so what? I’ve forgotten everything. I only remember loving Kelly. Do you expect me to spend my life with you based on memories that don’t exist for me?” I stood frozen, watching those photos—the ones he once said would be displayed at our wedding—scattered across the floor. Only then did I truly understand that the man before me genuinely couldn’t remember me. I said nothing more, silently crouching down to carefully pick up each photo. I wiped them clean and placed them back in the album, just as Vincent had once treasured them himself. Kelly leaned weakly against Vincent, pretending to be magnanimous. “Vince, don’t blame her. I’m dying, and I can’t bear to see others in pain. I don’t hold it against her. Look at my face—it’s still a bit swollen, but it doesn’t hurt.” Vincent touched her face, growing even more concerned, and pulled her along to buy medicine. I watched Vincent’s back as he led her away, suddenly feeling disconnected from reality. This all seemed like a nightmare—if only I could wake up soon. They didn’t return until evening. Kelly didn’t come back with him all the way, instead saying a reluctant goodbye at the door. “Vince, I’ll stay at the hotel rather than come to your place. Cathy’s still here, and I might get slapped again for being the other woman. You know my body can’t handle that kind of stress.” She glanced at me, feigning fear. I responded to her, “Don’t ever come here again. This is Vincent’s and my home. You’re not welcome.” Vincent looked back at me, then turned and embraced her, comforting her. “It’s okay. I’ll move out tomorrow to be with you. How about we buy a new house together?” Kelly nodded with a smile and left under Vincent’s lingering gaze.

He walked into the bedroom without looking at me once, as if I didn’t exist. Then he took out his suitcase and began packing his things, but he didn’t take any of the items that belonged to both of us. I watched him pack until midnight in silence. When he finished, he didn’t want to stay a moment longer and walked straight out the door, showing no attachment to me whatsoever. Watching his resolute figure walk away, I thought about the days ahead without him. I didn’t want to lose him—a man who had risked his life to save me. So I ran after him and called out, “I’ll stay with you until we’re old.” Those were the words he said when he proposed to me. Now that he had lost his memory, it was my turn to say these words to him. Vincent paused, slowly turned around, and saw me smiling through my tears. He walked toward me with heavy steps, and that moment felt so familiar. I couldn’t help wondering if his memory had returned. But his next words doused me with cold water. He said, “Ms. Jameson, I’m sorry to see you upset, but I really can’t do this. Please don’t put me in this position.” So he still didn’t remember. I cried my heart out, wanting to release all the pain inside. “I’ve had a crush on you since high school. You didn’t know me then, but I quietly looked after you in my own way. Later, when you said you wanted to become a photographer, I was the one who stayed by your side, supporting your dream.” “Your most famous collection of photos was taken for me. You said I was your muse, your inspiration. You promised to love me forever. You got hurt and lost your memory trying to protect me. I’ve loved you for ten years and been loved by you for five. I really don’t want to lose you,” I said. Vincent wiped away my tears and pulled me into his arms. I cried uncontrollably against his chest, soaking his shoulder within minutes. He remained silent, allowing me to hold him, letting me cry. “What are you doing?” Kelly suddenly appeared, interrupting us. Vincent nervously pushed me away, like a child caught doing something wrong. He explained, “Kel, don’t misunderstand. I was just comforting her.” Kelly rubbed her temples, looking unsteady on her feet. “Vince, if you have feelings for Cathy, I’ll step aside and leave you two alone.” She turned to leave. “I should go. I was just feeling unwell in the middle of the night and wanted your company. I didn’t mean to see this, I…” Kelly suddenly collapsed. Vincent rushed forward to catch her, then looked back at me and said, “Don’t contact me again. I don’t want Kel to misunderstand.” But I was his fiancée. Vincent never came back after that. I only learned about him when I accidentally came across Kelly’s TikTok account. She was documenting the final stage of her life and her love story with the boy who had a crush on her when they were young. Many followers were moved by their love story. User A: [Oh my God, what are you doing? They finally got together after all this time.] User B: [This love is truly touching. Kelly, if you die, Vincent will never forget you.] But some users questioned whether they were putting on a show. User C: [If she has cancer, how does she have so much energy to go out and have fun? She looks rosy-cheeked and healthier than me.] This comment made me realize something might be off about Kelly’s illness. Apart from appearing somewhat fragile at times, she didn’t look like a sick person at all. To investigate, I reached out to a good friend who specializes in treating this type of disease and told her everything about Vincent’s situation. After some thought, she concluded: “Something’s not right. Late-stage stomach cancer patients suffer terribly—not just from unbearable abdominal pain but also from mental confusion. Yet she’s out having fun and updating videos every day. It doesn’t look like she really has cancer.” So Kelly was faking it. After learning this, I wanted to expose her in front of Vincent right away, but something still felt off. Kelly had announced her cancer diagnosis shortly before Vincent lost his memory—the timing seemed too convenient. To help Vincent recover his memory and uncover the truth, I took his medical records to a different public hospital for another opinion. The doctor there said: “There’s no damage to his brain, so we can rule out traumatic amnesia. This appears to be psychogenic amnesia, caused by severe psychological trauma.” I stood there stunned, leaving without even thanking the doctor. At that moment, a terrifying possibility occurred to me: Vincent might be faking his memory loss.

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From fourteen to twenty-nine, I stood by Owen Brown as he rose from a struggling illegitimate son to become the head of the Brown family. Yet when he reunited with Kayla Watson, the ex-girlfriend who had abandoned him, he didn’t hesitate to ask me for a divorce. Owen said, “Nicole, the lifestyle you’ve enjoyed all these years should have been hers.” Faced with his pressure, I quietly tucked away his cancer diagnosis and coldly watched them spend his final days together. But after his death, his soul lingered, still hovering around me. ***** “Kayla is back.” “Nicole, I want a divorce.” Owen said this while I was still holding the chocolate cake from the south side of town that I’d just bought. This chocolate cake was extremely popular, but since Owen loved it, I had waited in line for three hours to get it for him. Now he wanted a divorce. I stood frozen, not even putting down the chocolate cake in my hand. “Owen, have you lost your mind?” I said. “I’ve been with you for fifteen years.” “Back then, Kayla betrayed you multiple times for that million dollars and almost got you killed.” “Now you want to divorce me for her?” Hearing my words, Owen suddenly smashed the water glass on the table and said, “Enough!” “Kayla already told me her mother was critically ill back then, and she had no choice.” “Nicole, do you think she’s as cold-blooded as you?” “You even turned your back on your own birth mother.” I stood stunned, looking at his disgusted and determined expression, feeling nothing but heartache. Years ago, my father was an alcoholic gambler, and my mother tried to sell me for money to run away with her lover. If I hadn’t noticed and escaped in time, I might have been dead already. But in Owen’s eyes, these experiences somehow became my fault. Meanwhile, Kayla, who had betrayed and deceived him multiple times, had become an innocent and kind-hearted person in his mind. I clenched my fists, a thousand thoughts racing through my mind, but ultimately I choked back tears as I reached out to grab the hem of Owen’s shirt. “Owen,” I asked, “can we please not get divorced?” Owen shook off my hand and said impatiently, “Impossible.” “Nicole, I’m informing you, not asking. You have no right to refuse.” “You should prepare to hand over your work at the company as soon as possible.” The door slammed shut, leaving me alone in the empty mansion. I sat on the cold floor, feeling like this whole situation was absurdly ridiculous. Owen didn’t come home that night. My phone rang in the middle of the night. I answered—it was Kayla calling. She said, “Nicole, you’ve schemed and plotted all these years.” “Thank you for cultivating such a loyal servant for me.” After mocking me, she quickly switched to a pitiful tone: “Owen, is Nicole still unwilling to let us be together?” “I really had no choice back then.” “Someone as selfish and greedy for wealth as her would never understand you.” I heard Owen’s disparaging words about me: “If she won’t agree to the divorce, I’ll find a way to force her out with nothing.” Then came the disgusting sound of heavy breathing. I hung up immediately and ran to the bathroom to throw up. Afterward, I slid down to the floor and pulled out the crumpled diagnosis paper from my pocket. The diagnosis stated that Owen was in the late stages of cancer. If Owen had actually cared about me, he would have noticed my unusual behavior. That chocolate cake from the south side was far too sweet—doctors had long advised him against eating overly sweet or greasy foods, which is why I never let him eat this cake before, let alone wait in line for hours to buy it for him. When I received the diagnosis at the hospital, I felt utterly hopeless.

I stood by Owen for fifteen years, gradually helping him become the power holder of the Brown family that he is today. I clutched the diagnosis report and rushed everywhere, hoping for a miracle, only to receive disappointing answers each time. That’s why I personally bought that chocolate cake, wanting to tell Owen about this, but never expected he would give me such a shocking surprise. My initial breakdown and panic disappeared after witnessing Owen’s heartlessness. I feel fortunate now. I gripped the diagnosis report and shakily stood up. My phone lit up again. Susan Thompson sent me a screenshot. It was a screenshot of Owen posting a photo of himself and Kayla together on social media. He wrote: [I’m so grateful you’ve returned to me. True love isn’t afraid of the passage of time.] Looking at the glaring photo and text, I felt sick. I thought, “True love? Were those fifteen years we spent together just torture in his eyes?” I suddenly remembered how we endured everyone’s mockery when we first got together. Back then, Owen was the despised illegitimate son who was constantly suppressed, and I was the troubled girl. During his career development, countless people predicted Owen would abandon me. But each time, he would hold my hand tightly and tell me firmly, “Nicole, I will never let you down.” His promises were so resolute back then. I watched him struggle and persevere, fulfilling each promise he made to me. Owen gave me a grand wedding, romantic surprises, and the status of his wife. I thought we would grow old together like this, only to discover it was all just my wishful thinking. ***** Seeing that I hadn’t replied, Susan called me directly. She asked, “Nicole, what’s going on? How is Owen with Kayla now?” I wiped the tears from my face and told her everything. Susan has been my best friend since childhood and knows everything about Owen and me. After hearing what I said, she couldn’t help but curse angrily, “What is Kayla playing at? She claims she had her reasons, but she never explained in all these years. Now that Owen officially controls the Brown family, Kayla suddenly starts talking about her hardships? And he actually believes her?” “Susan, as long as he believes her words, it becomes the truth,” I sighed softly. I continued slowly, “Kayla’s lies don’t need to be clever; Owen wants to believe them. Besides, Owen is already in the late stages of cancer.” Susan remained silent for a long time before finally asking, “Will you forgive them for this reason? Does his terminal illness give him the right to do whatever he wants?” The faint sound of crying made me feel helpless. I think I understand why Susan reacted this way. She once had a very happy family—wealthy background, loving parents. Like a carefree princess, her biggest worry each day was deciding which dress to wear. Later, Susan’s father, Eric Thompson, was in a car accident. After three days of emergency treatment and more than half a month in the ICU, he suddenly asked Susan’s mother, Debra Green, for a divorce. He said, “After facing death, I realized who I truly love. Life is short, and I don’t want to betray my own heart.” It was then that Susan and Debra discovered Eric had been having an affair and had a daughter only a year younger than Susan. Eric and his mistress had grown up together. Years later, they reconnected, despite both having their own families.

Love born from pain and entanglement becomes infinitely more precious. Debra was on the verge of collapse. She never imagined her own husband had been having an affair for over ten years. What they called love was even painful in his eyes. No matter how others tried to persuade him, Eric insisted on divorce. In the end, he left behind Debra, who had become mentally unstable from the breakdown, and Susan, who was exhausted from caring for her. And Susan’s half-sister was none other than Kayla. My current situation must have triggered her memories of the past. I softly reassured Susan, “Susan, I won’t agree to the divorce. Without me, Owen couldn’t have inherited the Brown family business so smoothly. He won’t easily leave me with nothing.” Kayla overestimated love’s importance to me. Compared to such an intangible thing, the wealth and power I already possessed mattered far more. ***** Upon learning I wouldn’t agree to the divorce, Owen became furious. He wanted to remove me from my position. But I also owned shares in the Brown Group, and I was managing the most important project for the company over the next three years. Owen couldn’t provide sufficient reasons to convince the board to dismiss me, so he fought against me relentlessly. He was already addicted to work, and to defeat me, he spent most of his day at the company. Meanwhile, Kayla couldn’t handle my provocations and would throw tantrums whenever Owen didn’t respond to her messages. A reclaimed love is precious. Owen had no choice but to appease Kayla while rushing to complete his work while she rested. Beyond that, he seemed determined to compensate Kayla for the luxury she had missed. Jewelry from auction houses, designer handbags from luxury stores, and even a multi-million-dollar mansion were all gifted to Kayla. Rumors about my marital problems with Owen quickly spread throughout New York. I knew these were all Owen’s provocations against me. He understood better than anyone my devotion to our promises and took pleasure in humiliating me this way. Kayla, eager to prove that she and Owen shared true love, created an online account specifically to share their history. How he secretly loved her in his youth but was too insecure to approach her. How Kayla, proud since childhood, missed her true love due to a momentary stubbornness and misunderstanding. How they reunited years later and, despite numerous obstacles, couldn’t help being drawn to each other and falling in love. In Kayla’s stories, I was portrayed as the villain who deliberately created misunderstandings that drove them apart. According to her narrative, even my refusal to divorce now was attributed to my vanity. Because of these rumors, Kayla quickly attracted over a million followers. Many believed her words and angrily insulted me on my social media accounts, some even threatening me to force me into divorce. Susan was furious about this and tried to report it to the police several times, but I stopped her. I watched as Owen eagerly introduced Kayla to high society. Everyone talked about how happy Owen was now, completely different from the reserved man he had been with me. People’s attitudes gradually changed, and some even gently suggested I agree to the divorce. I chose to ignore all of these comments. Outsiders love to gossip about others’ private affairs because they don’t know how much the person involved has suffered. They just want her to abandon years of dedication to fulfill some so-called perfect love story. Just as this matter was being widely discussed, Owen died.

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My mother saved Vivian Palmer’s life, and in return, the Palmer family promised to unite our families through marriage. My sister was eager to marry into the Palmer family, only to discover her husband was merely an unwanted illegitimate son. Shortly after the wedding, she ended up homeless. After I graduated from a top university, the true heir of the Palmer family proposed to me. During a press conference, my sister rushed forward and pushed me down the stairs, but she lost her footing and fell as well. After being reborn, she pretended to be generous by giving me the opportunity to marry into the Palmer family, yet whispered spitefully in my ear, “Jeanette, enjoy this life of luxury for me.” When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day the Palmer family came to discuss marriage arrangements with us. Vivian Palmer was helped out of her luxury car, surrounded by suited bodyguards that my father envied greatly. Behind her stood Herbert Palmer, the youngest son of the Palmer family. With his refined demeanor and handsome features, he wore the latest Patek Philippe watch, his bespoke suit enhancing his extraordinary presence. The Palmer family was Chicago’s wealthiest, leading the national household products industry with assets exceeding ten billion dollars. This elite family, previously only seen in magazines and on television, now stood at our doorstep, wanting to join our families through marriage. My mother was overjoyed and quickly pushed my prettier sister forward. But surprisingly, my sister didn’t step forward. With a stern face, under everyone’s gaze, she declared righteously, “Mom, I don’t want to take shortcuts. I want to achieve success through my own efforts! Marriage and happiness aren’t for trading. Since I seem to be the only one who feels this way, let Jeanette go instead.” Everyone was shocked, especially my parents. Bethany Yates had always been competitive, constantly trying to outdo me in everything, yet today she suddenly seemed like a different person, yielding to me. But I already knew her true intentions. Expressionless, I packed my belongings, grabbed just one travel bag, and got into the car arranged by the Palmer family. My parents’ confusion was justified. In my previous life, Bethany had dressed impeccably to marry into the Palmer family and, with my parents’ support, had made quite an impression on the Palmers. Not only that, to prevent any mishaps, she had spread rumors about me, smearing my reputation by claiming I led a promiscuous lifestyle. I became a laughingstock, while she appeared elegant and noble by comparison. She had thought that after marrying into wealth, a privileged life and high social status awaited her—a fairy-tale romance with the handsome, rich Herbert that would blossom after marriage. But what awaited her instead were countless dirty, sordid affairs within the wealthy family. Vivian had only allowed a girl of ordinary background like her to marry Herbert because he was an illegitimate son without any power or status. Bethany not only failed to access the Palmer fortune but also faced daily humiliation from others. “A filthy, lowly rat like you doesn’t deserve to be part of the Palmer family.” “A cheap whore and a bastard no one wants to acknowledge—what a perfect match!” Unable to bear the torment, she blamed everything on Herbert, physically and verbally abusing him, and even trying to seduce other Palmer heirs. But a girl like her, with nothing but good looks and no other qualities, ultimately became just a plaything for rich young men, discarded once they grew bored. When Herbert’s older brother Cedric Palmer took control, both of them were thrown out. Bethany went to Cedric begging for mercy, foolishly thinking she could trade her body for wealth, only to face deeper humiliation. “Being with a dirty, cheap gold-digger makes me sick. Don’t think I don’t know what you’re after. I’m not as stupid as Herbert—not every woman deserves to be with me.” Meanwhile, I endured that dark period, studying diligently at the University of Chicago, eventually graduating with honors as the only student that year with a perfect GPA, receiving countless job offers. Later, at a presentation, I caught Cedric’s attention. He pursued me intensely and gave me a nationwide, spectacular wedding. Bethany, left with nothing, finally snapped. At my wedding, she pushed me down the stairs, but fell herself in the process. Living this life again, she made her choice early, decisively rejecting Herbert to follow the path I had taken in my previous life. She knew that although she would have to endure years of tedious studying, once she connected with Cedric, she could change her destiny. Watching me leave, Bethany’s face revealed a mocking, triumphant smile. “This time, you can enjoy this life of luxury for me, my dear sister. And I will take back everything that should have been mine!”

I had long prepared myself to be ostracized and tormented by the rest of the Palmer family. So when they poured scalding hot soup on me and ordered me to stand in the yard as punishment, I didn’t say a word and silently complied. It had snowed all night, and as I stood on the freezing stone pavement, the sensation in my feet changed from stinging pain to numbness, until I completely lost all feeling. “I’ve seen plenty of women like you who scheme to marry above their station,” Jessica Palmer, the second daughter of the Palmer family, said with her arms crossed, looking at me coldly, her tone full of mockery. “You’re just a child from an ordinary family, and no matter who you marry, that fact will never change.” I was starving, my stomach practically touching my spine, and even the household servants stood nearby laughing at me. Jessica took a plate of leftover food and casually tossed it at my feet, as if feeding a dog. “Hey, eat up. It’s my treat to you.” Immediately, a burst of laughter erupted around me, and countless malicious gazes fell upon me. I looked down at the cold food on the ground without saying a word. Suddenly someone shouted, “Cedric is back!” Those people scattered immediately. A pair of polished black handcrafted leather shoes appeared before my eyes. I looked up to see Cedric’s handsome face. In my previous life, those eyes that once looked at me with tenderness were now as cold as the ice beneath my legs, regarding me without emotion. He only glanced at me once before looking away as if I were trash. Those immaculate leather shoes stepped right over the food in front of me without hesitation. Life in the Palmer family meant I was treated worse than a servant. No wonder Bethany refused to marry Herbert in this life. But regardless, I was still Herbert’s wife in name. In front of outsiders, they had to pretend to get along with me. I walked into the hall with the Palmer family, watching as they were guided to the VIP seats by the event organizers, while I could only sit in the farthest corner. This college innovation and entrepreneurship competition was jointly sponsored by several large enterprises, with Palmer Group holding the highest position. Sitting at the end, I listened to the speeches with boredom. For a chemistry genius like me, these students’ ideas were far too naive, and I started to feel drowsy after listening for a short while. Suddenly, a familiar voice rang out. “As people increasingly pursue natural and healthy lifestyles, I believe all-natural ingredients will become the mainstream trend in the future cosmetics industry.” Bethany stood on stage, speaking confidently. Her glossy, smooth hair was tied in a high ponytail, with a few strands deliberately left loose around her face to frame it perfectly. Her poised, confident presentation and excellent content won a round of applause from the audience. I looked toward Cedric, who sat in the front row, staring intently at the girl on stage, his eyes full of admiration. “Bethany, may I ask if the honeysuckle extract you mentioned was developed by you alone?” Bethany turned, slightly bowing her head with a hint of shyness as she nodded. Her white dress swayed gently with her movement, making her look pure and gentle, like a white jasmine flower. “Yes, it took me a year of research to develop it.” If the setting had allowed it, I would have laughed out loud. In my previous life, the technology that made me famous took countless professors and graduate students at the University of Chicago nearly ten years to research. Even though I ultimately completed it, I never dared to take all the credit or claim others’ hard work as my own. For Bethany to claim she did this alone in just one year, she would have to be a genius among geniuses. But I knew too well that she wasn’t. The audience, however, was none the wiser. Unsurprisingly, Bethany won first place in the competition and successfully secured an internship at Palmer Group. Cedric looked down at her, his eyes full of appreciation. The two chatted intimately, and when amused, Bethany covered her mouth as she laughed softly, looking as pure as a girl in an oil painting. Everyone present was shrewd enough to understand but chose not to point out the obvious. They collectively ignored the adult male desire evident in Cedric’s eyes. Bethany walked up to me, deliberately adjusting the suit jacket draped over her shoulders—Cedric’s jacket. “Jeanette, how are you adjusting to life in high society?” She certainly knew I was being ostracized, as she had experienced it all in her previous life. In my previous life, she had approached me the same way after I had just finished a press conference and been hired by Palmer Group with a high salary, saying, “No matter how proud you are, you’re just an employee. No matter how hard you try, you’ll never match my status!” But in this life, she changed her approach, proudly saying, “I don’t want to depend on anyone. I want to achieve my dreams through my own abilities.” With that, she turned and walked away. I raised an eyebrow. Cedric was standing nearby and heard what she said. A meaningful smile appeared on his face.

Bethany and Cedric left one after another. But I couldn’t care less where they went. I took my business cards and, following my memories from my previous life, went looking for people who could help advance my career. Everyone at the event was an industry leader who knew exactly who I was, and naturally, none of them thought much of me. I felt neither shame nor anger, and I ignored the hateful glares from the Palmer family members who looked like they wanted to tear me apart. After all, I was now part of the Palmer family too. My humble demeanor was what they found so shameful. Without Herbert around, I was just a country girl with the title of his wife. These people certainly wouldn’t treat me kindly. Despite being rejected repeatedly, I patiently continued to introduce my ideas. In my previous life, Bethany thought she could only establish herself in the Palmer family through Herbert, spending her days playing mind games with the other women. This only made everyone despise her and think she lacked proper upbringing. But I knew that to secure my position in the Palmer family, I needed undeniable capability, not connections. On the way home, Jessica deliberately brought up my attempts to network with the influential guests. “Jeanette, I can see you have big ambitions. How many business cards did you hand out?” I ignored the mockery in her words, mentally going through the list of people who had once collaborated with me in my previous life. Right now, they were just college students with startups who couldn’t even get through the front door of Palmer Group. Jessica burst into unrestrained laughter. “Jeanette, low-class people will always be low-class. No matter how hard you try, we’ll only ever see you as a joke.” But I didn’t think she was right. I gave her an awkward but polite smile. Whether they accepted me or not didn’t matter at all. Because I didn’t even plan on keeping the Palmer family in my sights. Although Herbert and I were married, we didn’t have a true marital relationship. In my previous life, Bethany always complained that Herbert was useless, so my impression of him was filled with negative words like “spineless,” “weak,” and “worthless.” But after living with him, I discovered he wasn’t like that at all. When he learned that my parents had forced me to marry him, he immediately accepted my proposal for a marriage of convenience. Though we lived together, we were more like friends. As an illegitimate son, he was ostracized by the rest of the Palmer family, with no dignity or status—but he had money. “My father gave my mother a black card before. After she passed away, the card became mine.” “I know you’ve endured a lot of hardship during my absence. I have no other way to make it up to you except through money. Do you mind?” How could I mind? I was more than happy! Herbert wasn’t skilled at running a company; his real talent was programming. But in the Palmer family’s eyes, this ability had no value. So he had to leave early and return late every day looking for work, and even with a bank’s black card in his hand, he feared that one day this security would be taken away. In my previous life, Bethany looked down on him, mocked him coldly, and joined his family in ostracizing him. His concern touched me deeply. “Okay,” I nodded with a smile, accepting the card. “Thank you. If you ever need my help, I’ll do everything I can.” I invested the money in several small startups. No one paid attention to these companies founded by young people. They were like specks of dust in the storms raised by these large corporations, too insignificant to notice. Everyone thought these fragile seedlings would soon wither and die. This amount of money was trivial to the Palmer family, and they didn’t pay much attention. But for us, it was a matter of life and death. Because I planned to recreate the technology that had shocked the industry in my previous life. I rented a laboratory. Although I lacked baseline data, I had performed those experiments countless times before—they were etched into my bones. Back then, I practically lived in libraries and labs, surviving on cheap instant coffee. I could reproduce the entire experimental process with my eyes closed. This was why Bethany could never replicate my success from my previous life. I heard that Cedric invited Bethany Yates to dinner, but she declined, saying she had evening study sessions. The next day, rumors spread throughout the school that the heir to a top-tier wealthy family was pursuing Bethany. Bethany quickly denied it, but the more desperately she tried to distance herself, the more others believed it was true. She was quite clever in this regard. Cedric never lacked women, especially those who threw themselves at him. In my previous life, the main reason he took interest in me was because I was different. My calm demeanor, innocence, passion for research, and indifference to power intrigued him and even sparked his desire to conquer. In this life, Bethany was attempting the same strategy. Her playing-hard-to-get attitude successfully caught Cedric’s attention. She knew men always obsess over what they can’t have. I lay on my memory foam mattress, enjoying the comfort of its massage mode. My hair felt fresh, smooth, and glossy after a scalp treatment. Meanwhile, Bethany was probably lying on that hard little bed at home, plotting her next move to win Cedric over. I smiled to myself, thinking, “She has no idea what ugly truths lie behind the marriage she so desperately wants.” In my previous life, it took me a long time to realize that someone like Cedric, who had fought in the business world for years, wouldn’t marry me simply because I was “pure and kind.” It wasn’t until after our marriage—when he confined me at home, forbade me from working, stole all my research achievements, and tried to force me to conduct research exclusively for him—that I understood his true intentions. When I refused, he finally showed his true colors. He kept me under house arrest, confiscated all my communication devices, and stripped away my freedom. Every day, I could only stare at four white walls and gaze longingly at the sunlight through that small window. Later, when I developed mental health issues, he didn’t spare me. Instead, he held press conferences to gain sympathy, exploiting my suffering to squeeze out whatever value I had left. Perhaps he had genuine feelings at some point, and that faint affection was real. But his emotions were too light, too shallow—so fragile they couldn’t withstand any clash with his interests. I’m curious how he’ll treat Bethany once he sees through everything, and whether Bethany can endure his torment. Because of my “restlessness,” the Palmer family’s hostility toward me became increasingly obvious. Before, they would restrain themselves out of respect for Vivian when they tried to make things difficult for me. But now, they probably knew that even Cedric disliked me, so they became completely uninhibited. They cut up my clothes, deliberately humiliated me at parties, spat in my food, and even set my hair on fire in public, standing around watching me frantically put it out while laughing uncontrollably. They believed they had every right to punish this “gold digger,” to teach a lesson to this lowly woman who dared to taint their noble bloodline. But I didn’t show the panic they expected. I watched them like children playing cruel pranks, without a trace of fear in my eyes. I cut off all my long hair in front of everyone. When my hair fell to the ground, I saw Cedric standing at the doorway with a complex expression. His gaze was dark and unreadable, churning with emotions I couldn’t decipher, as if wondering how long I would endure for the Palmer family’s money. ***** Actually, I wasn’t just putting on a brave face. After being slandered in my previous life, the bullying I endured was far worse than what I’m experiencing now. To change my fate, I had to work part-time jobs while studying hard. But in this life, I have the Palmer family’s resources. I don’t have to worry about my parents stealing my tuition money for “investments,” or about the school kicking me out of research groups because of rumors. This is already an enormous help to me, so those insignificant pranks don’t matter. Besides, their arrogance won’t last much longer. As for Bethany, I heard she often skipped classes to attend dinners and dates with Cedric. With her frequent absences, she failed miserably in her final exams, flunking most of her courses. Research was out of the question—she hadn’t touched a lab coat all semester, and the lab manager had barely seen her. Her professor warned her not to neglect her studies just because she had secured an internship. But she dismissed it, claiming she was a genius who should achieve the highest results with minimal effort. When told her poor grades might affect her graduation eligibility, she remained unconcerned, saying that in today’s society, connections and resources matter more than grades and degrees. Eventually, her professors gave up on her. Even my parents believed that rather than studying, securing the heart of the future leader of the Palmer Group was the most important thing. Moreover, my precarious position in the Palmer family had already thoroughly disappointed them. Once they realized they couldn’t get much benefit from me, they promptly cut ties and fully supported Bethany instead, hoping she would become the mistress of the Palmer Group. These rumors reached me later, as I was currently busy with the final stages of my experiment.

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When I was reborn, my sister Ariana Jennings was having me choose a marriage partner. I looked at my boyfriend of five years, Damien Caldwell, then turned and leaned my delicate body against his uncle, Louis Caldwell. In my previous life, I had rejected wealthy executives and only loved the wild and unrestrained Damien. It wasn’t until after a miscarriage that I discovered the honey milk Damien had unfailingly given me for years contained abortion drugs. His reason was simply that he thought I wasn’t as noble as Ariana and unworthy of bearing his child. Recalling our intimate moments in bed, I realized he often called me by Ariana’s name. Only then did I understand that my repeated miscarriages were merely tools for Damien and Ariana’s flirtation. Since that was the case, in this new life, I would be better off marrying someone else. Yet the typically cold and arrogant Damien fainted in tears at my wedding. ***** When I opened my eyes, I was standing at the door of a luxury private room. Before I could push down the doorknob, I heard men’s laughter from inside. “Why didn’t Mr. Caldwell bring his fiancée today? Doesn’t Brielle die without you?” Everyone in the room had been drinking and couldn’t help joking around. Damien frowned, clicking his tongue impatiently. “Don’t mention her. She makes me sick.” “She’s just a cheap woman I can’t get rid of. I wouldn’t even want her for free.” Overhearing everything, my heart clenched violently, and my entire body began to shake uncontrollably. So this was how Damien described me behind my back—me, who had given him my whole heart. He lowered his eyes slightly, and the dim light cast on his face somehow made him appear affectionate. “But since I promised her I’d take care of Brielle, I absolutely cannot break my word.” “Otherwise, with that woman’s petty tricks, she’d never be worthy of my attention.” The room erupted in exclamations, exchanging knowing glances. They clearly understood who “her” referred to. In my previous life, Damien had also said these words to me tenderly at our wedding. I thought “her” meant my parents, but I never imagined it was his long-time crush, my own sister. I had only ever been a substitute. My nose stung, but my eyes remained terribly dry as I forced a cold smile, feeling utterly disillusioned. Someone inside must have spotted me first, letting out a startled scream, and then dozens of eyes turned toward me. The door to the private room opened without warning, and the atmosphere froze the moment I appeared. The group nervously watched Damien’s expression. Despite their disrespectful comments about me moments ago, no one was willing to apologize. Damien lounged lazily on the sofa, not bothering to give me even a glance. “I told you, do whatever you want with the wedding. Don’t bother me.” His attitude was exactly the same as in my previous life, though back then I thought he was just nervous before our wedding. Now I understood he was simply taking out his frustration on me because he couldn’t marry the woman he truly loved. Instead of going forward to soothe Damien’s mood as I usually did, I stood calmly at the doorway. He seemed to notice my unusual behavior and narrowed his eyes, looking me up and down. Even though I’d seen this expression many times before, his emotionless gaze made my breath catch. I struggled to control my emotions. “Damien, I don’t want to marry you anymore.” Just one short sentence, but it took all my courage. The room fell into a deathly silence. No one spoke. But their suppressed smiles were too ugly—everyone treated me like a toy for their amusement. After Damien let out a cold snort, everyone in the room burst into laughter. “Brielle Jennings, how old are you? Haven’t you gotten tired of playing hard to get?” “How many times have you said this now? If not a hundred times, then at least ninety-nine.” Damien leaned back on the sofa with his eyes closed, clearly thinking I was playing a little trick to get his attention. I was trembling with anger and about to explain myself when a sharp rebuke came from behind me. “Enough! All of you should apologize to Brielle!” “Damien, if you continue treating my sister this way, I’ll never speak to you again!” I turned around in shock and met the woman’s angry eyes. “Ariana?”

Before I could figure out why Ariana was here, she pulled me into the house. She plopped down next to Damien, her delicate little fists pounding against his chest. “How could you treat my sister like this? If she didn’t like you, would I ever give you up to someone else? I painfully let you go for Brielle’s sake, but if I find out you’re mistreating her, I’ll never speak to you again!” Ariana bit her lip, tears nearly falling. Damien nervously lowered himself to comfort Ariana. The two of them were completely wrapped up in each other, ignoring my existence. I imagined that if I weren’t here, they’d probably take their flirting straight to bed. But even though they could barely contain themselves, Ariana didn’t completely ignore me. She looked at me somewhat awkwardly, though her eyes didn’t want to miss any of my reactions. “Brielle, next time Damien bullies you, just tell me, and I’ll definitely have your back,” Ariana said while sliding her slender hand inside Damien’s shirt, pinching his flesh hard. She pretended to be getting revenge for me, but was actually flirting with him. I clenched my fists tightly, digging my nails into the tender flesh of my wrists to barely regain my composure. I couldn’t understand why I had been so stupid in my previous life, unable to see through their shameless little games. It wasn’t until later, after I had miscarried for Damien time and again, my body depleted of all its strength, that I finally realized something was wrong thanks to a friend’s warning. I had Damien’s warm milk with honey—which he fed me daily—tested, and sure enough, it contained large amounts of abortifacients. I secretly logged into Damien’s WhatsApp, intending to investigate every detail of his past. I just never expected the truth to be even more disgusting than I had anticipated. Damien and Ariana had been in a relationship since high school, but since they were both players, they inevitably broke up and got back together multiple times. Until I came along—innocent me apparently became the glue for their relationship. The forbidden thrill of cheating behind my back was irresistible to them, and their relationship only heated up after Damien and I got married. The warm milk with honey poured into my stomach every day came from someone Ariana had hired. Yet after each of my miscarriages, Ariana would pretend to feel guilty, crying as she sought comfort from Damien. The two of them kept pushing moral boundaries behind my back, again and again. Until they both grew tired of the game and finally decided to let me go. Unfortunately, after countless miscarriages requiring hospitalization, my body was already wasting away, and I could only wait for death in the hospital. Every time I think about this since my rebirth, my stomach churns uncontrollably. My lover’s betrayal, my family’s backstabbing—each incident made me wish I were dead. So in this life, I absolutely cannot become their plaything for flirtation. I abruptly stood up from the sofa and gracefully yanked the door open to leave. “Damien, we’re done. This isn’t a joke—it’s a notification.” After I left, the house returned to its rowdy atmosphere. I could even imagine how Damien’s worthless friends were talking about me. But actually, as long as I could end this arranged marriage with Damien, I could completely restart my life. I had just sat down in my car when my phone immediately started vibrating. When I answered, Damien’s furious roar came through. “Brielle, do you have a death wish? Will you only be happy when you’ve destroyed Ariana?”

My ears throbbed with pain from the shock, and I instinctively pressed the end call button. But before I could start the car, a pair of large hands smashed through the window. Damien grabbed my collar and yanked me out of the car with brutal force, like a demon. “Look what you’ve done! How could you do this to Ariana?” Without another word, Damien dragged me back to the private room, where I found Ariana crying, her face streaked with tears. She bit her lip and looked at me with utter grief. “Please just give it back to me, it’s really important to me! “I’ve already given up Damien for you. That’s the only thing I have left to remember him by. Please don’t take that away too, okay?” Ariana stomped her foot petulantly, crying as she grabbed the red wine from the table and splashed it in my face. Damien was so heartbroken his eyes turned red. He quickly unwrapped the blue and white scarf from his neck and gently placed it under Ariana’s feet. The gesture made everyone envious, but I was the only one who found it disgusting. That scarf had taken me three months to make. My delicate hands had been pricked and bloodied by silver needles for that scarf. Now Damien didn’t hesitate to place it under Ariana’s feet, as if he were trampling my heart into the ground. The bitter wine trickled down my face and into my collar, making me shiver with cold. “I didn’t take anything. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Before I could finish, I heard Damien’s lackey speak up. “Found it! I found Ariana’s diamond ring in Brielle’s car. She did steal it!” In an instant, everyone in the room stared at me. Damien let out a cold sneer. “What else do you have to say for yourself? “That ring was designed by Ariana and me together. It’s her graduation project! “You stole it out of jealousy. Are you trying to ruin Ariana?!” The diamond ring was handed to Damien, but I had no recollection of the box at all. Ariana kept crying, never directly blaming me, yet every word she said was aimed at me. Damien stood in front of me, gripping my face with his hand, his eyes terrifyingly cold. “You didn’t actually think that just because I agreed to marry you, you could do whatever you wanted, did you? “If you dare disrespect Ariana in any way, this marriage will be the beginning of your hell!” He gritted his teeth and threatened me viciously. “Kneel down right now and apologize to Ariana, or this wedding is off!” I tensed my body, glaring at Damien with hatred, and replied coldly. “Never!” Damien’s anger surged instantly. He grabbed my collar and stomped hard on my shin. I lost my balance and fell to my knees with a thud, pain shooting through them. I tried to struggle to my feet, but Damien gripped my neck and forced me down hard. “Apologize now, or I’ll cancel the engagement right this minute!” A familiar sense of terror flooded through me as I recalled the constant domestic abuse after marriage in my previous life. He used to lock me in the basement. Whenever Ariana got angry with him, he would take out his frustration on me. His fists, as big as sandbags, would pound every part of my body while he cursed me viciously. “If it weren’t for you, Ariana and I would be married with children by now! “Trash like you still dreams of having my child? Are you trying to one-up Ariana with a baby?” Now Damien was just like in my previous life, rolling up his sleeves and approaching me with a twisted face. “Stop!” Ariana let out a sharp scream, and Damien immediately froze. I looked up gratefully, tears streaming down my face. I thought Ariana still cared for me, but her next words sent ice through my veins. “As her sister, I absolutely cannot bear to see Brielle become such an unreasonable, jealous shrew! “I must cut the tendons in her hands to set her straight!” Damien’s lips curled into a sinister smile as he flipped a knife skillfully in his hand. “Ariana is always so clever.” I backed away in terror as Ariana pressed her high heel into my back with a look of feigned distress. “Don’t blame me, okay? I’m doing this for your own good.” The more I struggled, the harder she pressed her heel. The sharp blade touched my wrist, inching downward. My tears had nearly dried up, and I could only close my eyes in despair. Suddenly, an urgent phone call interrupted Damien’s actions. He clicked his tongue in annoyance before answering. Then he flung the butterfly knife away, grabbed me by the hair, and shoved me into the car. “Damn it! We need to get to the banquet now!” I had never seen Damien look so nervous before—his expression could even be described as fearful. “Uncle Louis has returned from abroad. I’ll have to rely on him in the future, depend on him for my livelihood!” Then he laughed. “I know he likes you, and he’d even defy the entire family for your sake. “If I were to send you to his bed, who knows how much money I could get? Probably enough to live comfortably for the rest of my life.” I recalled Uncle Louis from Damien’s descriptions. Louis always wore a cold expression, yet he would appear out of nowhere whenever I was in trouble. But in my previous life, I was too infatuated with Damien to appreciate such a good man. Damien sped all the way to the party, then hurriedly dragged me into the crowd. “Mom, I’ve brought her as you asked.” Damien pushed me forward, and caught off guard, I nearly stumbled to the floor. Damien’s mother, Ashley Caldwell, looked me over with contempt and snorted. “A classless wild girl, without a fraction of Ariana’s grace! “Now you’ll kneel here and crawl over to pour my coffee—that’s the rule in our house.” I frowned and tried to leave, but Damien grabbed my arm firmly. “Don’t put on airs in front of everyone. You haven’t signed the marriage certificate yet—I can change my mind anytime! “Ariana isn’t here now, so don’t think anyone will come to your rescue!” He handed me a scalding hot cup of coffee and pressed down on my shoulders, forcing me to kneel. Ashley watched me with a mocking smile. “This is our family tradition. Anyone who wants to join our family must enter on their knees.” Everyone’s eyes were on me, and no one spoke up in my defense, as if my refusal to kneel would be unreasonable. My hands turned bright red from the heat, and my legs trembled as Damien repeatedly kicked them. Just then, a deep male voice came from the entrance of the party. “I’m the one who establishes the rules for the Caldwell family, and I’ve never heard of this one before.” Each footstep of the man struck at everyone’s heartstrings. Damien, who had been so arrogant moments ago, suddenly trembled with fear and stammered: “Uncle Louis…”

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When Jennie Brown pushed open the door to the private room, she overheard a group of people passionately discussing how far a man would go for his first love. “Wiley, it’s your turn now. Tell us something touching you’ve done for Rebekah!” Everyone eagerly chimed in. Jennie froze at the doorway, silently listening. “Rebekah has been sick, and I’ve been helping her find a suitable kidney donor,” Wiley Myers finally spoke after a long silence. He said it so calmly, as if it wasn’t anything shocking, which prompted a wave of dismissive boos from the group. “My current girlfriend is actually the matching donor. Over the years, I’ve finally adjusted all the other parameters to be suitable. Tomorrow I’m bringing Rebekah back to the country to prepare for the kidney transplant.” After a brief silence, the room erupted in gasps. “Mr. Myers, I can’t believe it! The girlfriend you’ve been taking care of all these years was just to save your first love!” “Does your girlfriend know? Is she willing?” “I just need to tell her it’s for me, and she won’t refuse. She’s willing to give up her life for me, so what’s one kidney?” Wiley took a sip of his drink and leaned back in his chair, speaking with absolute confidence. “What about Jennie? After you cure Rebekah, are you going to break up with Jennie? Isn’t she your sister’s classmate? Would your sister let you get away with this if she found out?” Wiley fell silent. He wondered what to do next. He had never seriously considered what would happen with Jennie. “I need some fresh air.” Jennie recognized Wiley’s voice. She snapped back to reality, her face turning deathly pale, and quickly ran away to avoid being seen. Her face ashen, that conversation echoing in her mind, her thoughts completely blank. Not watching her step, she missed a stair and tumbled down the staircase. Everyone around was horrified and rushed to help her up, but she seemed completely numb to the pain. “Miss, you’re bleeding. Let us take you to the hospital,” the server asked anxiously. Jennie just mechanically shook her head and limped toward the exit. Her wounds hurt, but the pain was nothing compared to the betrayal by the person she loved most. “Miss, it’s raining outside. Please take an umbrella, or your wounds might get infected.” The same server had followed her out, offering her an umbrella. Jennie couldn’t bring herself to smile. When she turned her face, it was already covered in tears. The server was startled, thinking she was in too much pain. But she just shook her head in refusal and walked step by step into the pouring rain. In the rain, she seemed to see her nineteen-year-old self. Back then, she was a genius young scriptwriter. Many people were willing to pay top dollar for her scripts, countless admirers flocked to Fayetteville, and some obsessed pursuers even tried to assault her when rejected. Cornered in a dead-end alley, screaming for help, it was Wiley who charged out like a hero, knocked those men down, and grabbed her hand to run for their lives. He was injured while saving her, leaving a long scar on his arm. Jennie fell for Wiley right then. Later, when she learned he was her classmate’s brother, she felt it was destiny. Then one day, Wiley got into a fight, and she rushed in just like he had done for her, taking a bottle meant for him. Glass shattered against her head, blood streaming down, but she gritted her teeth and endured it. Wiley just gave her a complicated look before she passed out in his arms. When she woke up, Wiley said, “Jennie, I can give us a try.” She was overjoyed. She changed all her preferences to match what Wiley liked—keeping her hair long and straight, wearing gentle, obedient clothes. He liked tear moles, so whenever she put on makeup, she would deliberately add one. Wiley said it was incredibly sexy. She took care of his daily life, prepared nutritious lunches. Jennie managed Wiley’s household affairs meticulously, feeling they were just one wedding ceremony away from complete happiness. Until today, hearing the cruel truth, she realized Wiley was with her only to provide a kidney for Rebekah, planning to use her organ to save his true love’s life when the time was right. It turned out that Wiley’s insistence on her getting physical checkups every six months wasn’t out of concern for her health, but to ensure her body data better matched Rebekah’s, preparing for the surgery. She walked in the rain without an umbrella, dazed. Passersby gave her strange looks. Dragging her exhausted body, she made it to her doorstep before finally collapsing. Just then, her phone rang. She hurriedly pulled it out, her first instinct worrying that Wiley couldn’t find her, but seeing the number, she laughed bitterly at herself. She thought, “Jennie, stop flattering yourself. Rebekah is coming back, and as long as you’re alive, Wiley won’t worry about you.” The call was from director Samuel Clark, who had been begging for her help. “Ms. Brown, I know you stopped writing for your boyfriend these past years, but we really need you now. Name your price, and I’ll agree to it.” “For the sake of our past collaboration, please come back. The international jury specifically requested your participation!” Samuel pleaded earnestly. As Jennie recalled Wiley’s conversation and thought about Rebekah’s imminent return, she knew Wiley wouldn’t keep her by his side anymore. She understood that her time as a “donor” was coming to an end. “I’ll think about it. I’ll give you my answer tomorrow.” Two weeks would be enough time for her to leave this place.

“Thank you so much, Ms. Brown. I’ll wait for your call. I really appreciate it.” Samuel repeated his thanks several times with excitement, while Jennie hung up the phone expressionlessly. Shortly after the call ended, Wiley returned. Seeing her sitting on the floor soaking wet, he immediately became angry. “What happened to you? You’re completely soaked! Don’t you know how easy it is to catch a cold like this? Why can’t you learn to take care of yourself?” While scolding her, he hurriedly grabbed a towel to dry her hair. “You need to drink some hot cocoa later, understand? What if you catch a cold!” His tone was both urgent and worried. In the past, Jennie would have been overjoyed hearing these words. But now she knew Wiley wasn’t concerned about her—he was worried that her getting sick might affect the kidney transplant. This type of surgery couldn’t risk the patient catching a cold; even the smallest issue could ruin all their preparations. She remained silent, taking the towel from his hands and drying herself. Seeing her low spirits, Wiley didn’t say anything more and went to the bathroom to shower. By the time he came out, Jennie was already in bed preparing to sleep. He unusually took the initiative to hold her, asking in a low voice, “Jennie, if I had serious kidney disease, would you give me one of your kidneys?” Jennie tensed up, thinking, “Rebekah must be getting worse, that’s why he’s so desperate—he’s even asking me directly now.” She pretended to be surprised, insisting on checking if he was unwell, but Wiley pulled her into his arms. “I’m just asking hypothetically. Would you be willing?” “I’m just glad you’re okay. You nearly scared me to death.” Jennie avoided answering the question. Wiley’s expression immediately changed, his tone growing cold. He released her and turned his back to her. Looking at his cold back, Jennie’s tears silently soaked the sheets. She hadn’t even given her answer, yet he was already upset. She knew if she truly refused to donate her kidney, he probably wouldn’t even look at her again. Meanwhile, Wiley was secretly calculating that if Jennie wasn’t willing, he’d have to proceed without her knowledge. But once the surgery was successful, he could take care of her for the rest of her life. Rebekah’s condition couldn’t wait—he had no choice. They lay together physically but worlds apart mentally, not exchanging another word all night. Early the next morning, Jennie got up as usual to prepare breakfast. Wiley’s phone kept vibrating. Afraid of waking him, she thoughtfully switched it to silent mode. But as soon as she picked up the phone, she saw “Rebekah” flashing on the screen. Her hand trembled as she opened the message. [Wiley, I’m returning with a doctor accompanying me, so you don’t need to pick me up.] [Are you okay? You haven’t responded to my messages, and I’m worried. I want you to be the first person I see when I return. Wiley, I miss you.] Jennie didn’t want to read more and put the phone back. Before she could finish making breakfast, Wiley woke up and stormed into the kitchen, demanding, “Did you touch my phone?” Jennie was extremely nervous. “I… I just didn’t want to wake you, so I put it on silent.” “Do you realize you almost ruined something important? From now on, don’t touch my things without my permission! You’re becoming more and more inconsiderate!” Wiley’s tone was harsh. After gathering his things, he simply said, “I’ll be out of the country for two days,” and left without looking back. Jennie stood in the kitchen, staring at the fried eggs in the pan, her smile more painful than tears. She thought, “He must be anxious about not being able to pick up Rebekah. Otherwise, how could someone usually so composed lose control like this?” She picked up her fork and stuffed both portions of fried eggs into her mouth, chewing with difficulty. She murmured, “Don’t cry, Jennie. Hold it together.” She knew she couldn’t ultimately escape donating her kidney. But she wouldn’t allow herself to actually endure that harm. So she called her assistant, Harper Thomas, asking her to search the global organ donation database for a suitable match. She was willing to pay 100 times the normal price. After arranging everything, she went to meet Samuel. At the café, Samuel and another man had been waiting for some time. Seeing her arrive, Samuel immediately stood up to greet her. “Mr. Clark, why did you bring someone else?” Jennie immediately recognized the other man as an investor and was visibly displeased. Before Samuel could speak, the man introduced himself, “Ms. Brown, I’m Henry Adams, also an investor in this production. When Mr. Clark told me you agreed to be our screenwriter, I was so excited I couldn’t sleep all night. I’ve always admired you and have read almost all your scripts! Please feel free to make any requests—I’ll personally handle all logistics for you.” Henry’s enthusiasm was genuine, so Jennie couldn’t stay angry. She nodded slightly and presented three conditions. “In two weeks, I’ll go to Miami. “I need three months of isolated creative work with only my two assistants accompanying me. No one else is to disturb me. “My whereabouts must remain confidential unless needed for promotional purposes.” Samuel and Henry nodded repeatedly with smiles, indicating there was no problem. Jennie noted her departure date on her phone and then left. Wiley never returned home, nor did he send any messages. She knew he had probably gone to the airport to pick up Rebekah.

Three days later at dawn, Jennie was awakened by an urgent phone ringtone. The screen displayed “Wiley.” As soon as she answered, Wiley’s furious voice filled the entire room. “Jennie, what’s wrong with you? Why are you only answering now? Grab your ID and get to the hospital immediately!” “What happened?” Jennie’s mind went blank. “Stop wasting time! Be at the hospital in ten minutes, or don’t bother coming at all!” The call ended abruptly. She faintly heard doctors and nurses in the background, along with the beeping sounds of emergency medical equipment. She understood—the day Wiley had been waiting for had finally arrived, and now it was her turn to play her part. She immediately called Harper, instructing her to arrange for professionals to deliver the found kidney to the hospital and to dispatch a specialized medical team to take over the surgery, bypassing Wiley’s arrangements. By the time she reached the hospital, half an hour had passed. Wiley, with a grim expression, pulled her directly into the operating room. “Jennie, do you love me?” “Of course.” She looked into Wiley’s eyes and answered with an aching heart. “Then would you make a small sacrifice for me? I need you to undergo a minor procedure to prove your love. Will you do that?” He held her tightly, his tone incredibly gentle. But Jennie felt a bone-chilling coldness. Wiley had transformed her love into a sharp dagger and unhesitatingly plunged it into her heart. How could she not feel the pain? She said nothing more, just quietly lay down. She exchanged a glance with the doctor. This was the team she had ordered Harper to find. Throughout the surgery, she kept watching Rebekah. The seven-hour procedure gradually wore away her love for Wiley… To make Wiley believe Rebekah had received Jennie’s kidney, they were both wheeled out of the operating room simultaneously. Wiley immediately rushed to Rebekah’s bedside, gently caressing her face, repeatedly asking the doctor about her condition, without sparing Jennie a single glance. Jennie laughed bitterly to herself, “I’m just a ‘donor,’ how could I deserve his concern?” A tear slid down her cheek as the nurse silently wheeled her into her room. Her room was separated from Rebekah’s by just one wall. Over the following days, she watched Wiley bustling about, bathing and feeding Rebekah. To cheer her up, he even dressed as a clown and danced, wiggling around in the hallway. When Rebekah sneezed, he frantically called for a nurse. Having known Wiley for so many years, Jennie had always thought he was shy and introverted. She never imagined he could become like this around someone he truly cared for. She stayed in the hospital for a week. Wiley never once visited her, as if she didn’t exist at all. So she completed her discharge paperwork and returned to what was once “home” with Wiley. Jennie stared at her haggard reflection in the mirror, her gaze gradually turning cold. She messaged Wiley saying she wanted to talk, but he never replied. She knew he was busy comforting Rebekah and had no time to check her messages. So Jennie did three things. She quit her job, burned all the love letters she had written to Wiley along with their photos together, and finally, she sold the jewelry they had shared. One evening, Wiley finally came home. He was unshaven but in good spirits, unable to hide his joy. Jennie thought to herself, “Rebekah now has a healthy kidney, so she must have agreed to get back together with Wiley. Wiley, your wish has finally come true. As for me, I only have three days left before I leave.” Wiley, being perceptive, immediately noticed many things missing from the house when he returned home. He also noticed Jennie’s poor complexion, and only then realized that Rebekah had received Jennie’s kidney. He hadn’t checked on her at all these past few days. A wave of guilt washed over him. “Jennie, about the surgery…” He had barely started speaking when Jennie interrupted him. “I sent you many messages that you never answered. I need to talk to you about something.” She wanted to break up. “I’ve been too busy lately. What did you want to say?” “I want to…” Before she could finish, Wiley’s phone rang. It was Rebekah. His tone immediately softened. “Wiley, I owe you and your girlfriend so much for saving me. To thank you both, I’ve arranged a dinner party. You must bring her along.” “That’s not necessary. She was just doing what she should. Don’t worry about it.” “How could I not? Wiley, you absolutely must bring Ms. Brown with you~” Wiley stared at Jennie while on the phone, making her uncomfortable. After hanging up, he commanded, “Get ready. We have dinner plans tonight.” “Can I skip it? I have something important to tell you.” “Whatever it is can wait. Haven’t I told you to go through my secretary for work issues? I’m going to freshen up—you should get ready too. Tonight’s dinner is Rebekah’s way of thanking you specifically. How could you not attend?” His tone left no room for discussion. Jennie pressed her lips together. She thought, “He hasn’t once asked about my health. It’s okay, I still have three days. I’ll find a chance to talk to him.” As soon as they arrived at the party, they heard Rebekah announce: “Whoever drinks the most tonight gets to sleep with me!” The atmosphere instantly chilled. Jennie felt Wiley’s grip nearly crushing her fingers. “Wiley, calm down. You’re hurting me,” she whispered. Wiley abruptly released her hand and stormed toward Rebekah. Jennie clearly saw the red teardrop mole on Rebekah’s face, which made her look as enchanting as a dark elf under the lights. “Rebekah, how could you say something like that!” “What’s wrong? I just love men who can drink!” Rebekah shouted, prompting cheers from the crowd as men stepped forward to drink with her. Despite his alcohol allergy, Wiley didn’t hesitate to approach the row of high-proof liquor, downing glass after glass. Soon, his cheeks flushed and dense red rashes appeared on his skin. He ignored everyone’s warnings and continued drinking. Suddenly, he vomited, soaking his shirt with alcohol. Rebekah’s suitor laughed loudly: “You think you can compete for her with that tolerance? Rebekah is mine!” “I can drink more! Rebekah, I’ll drink the most tonight!” Wiley shoved the man aside and looked pleadingly at Rebekah, desperate to keep her attention on him. His skin was now covered with rashes, and his breathing had become labored. Everyone continued cheering while Rebekah stood by smugly, laughing. Wiley suddenly collapsed, then struggled to get back up. “Rebekah, I didn’t mean to… I’ll keep drinking, I can still…” He grabbed another glass and forced it down, his eyes bloodshot. Jennie stood outside the crowd, her heart breaking. “Rebekah, you know he loves you. Why are you torturing him like this? He could die if this continues!” Rebekah snickered, looking at Jennie: “He’s only with you to donate a kidney to me. Why are you interfering? Today I’ll show you just how much he loves me.” She walked over to the disheveled Wiley. “Wiley, my ex-boyfriend used to let me ride on his back. How can you compare to him?” Wiley looked at her, his cheeks swollen from the allergic reaction. He clutched at Rebekah’s skirt: “Rebekah, I can let you ride on me too. I’ll do anything you say.” With that, he got down on his knees and crawled toward her. Jennie’s heart clenched painfully. For Rebekah, Wiley had abandoned even his basic dignity. “Fine, then carry me around the room and then to my car.” Like a haughty princess, Rebekah grabbed Wiley’s tie with one hand and patted his head with the other, repeatedly shouting, “Giddyup! Giddyup!” Wiley stumbled forward on all fours while Rebekah’s friends raised their phones to livestream and record videos. Jennie clenched her fists, her nails digging deep into her palms. Even then, she didn’t step forward to intervene. She knew this was Wiley proving his loyalty, and he wouldn’t allow anyone to interfere. Finally, Wiley knelt outside the car door. Rebekah stepped on his back to climb into her car. As Rebekah’s car drove away, Wiley collapsed on the roadside in the howling wind. Jennie, trembling, called 911 and had him taken to the hospital. Wiley went into shock due to severe allergic reaction, while Rebekah had disappeared. Jennie stayed at the hospital, taking care of him. Earlier, someone had livestreamed the party, capturing Wiley’s drinking contest and him kneeling down. The footage spread online, causing a massive public outcry. Some called him a simp, while others praised him for being deeply in love. Wiley’s sister, Evelyn Myers, was furious. She came to the hospital to find Jennie, and seeing her red, exhausted eyes, hugged her and cried. “Jennie, I’m so sorry. I apologize on behalf of my brother! I’m going to kill Rebekah—how dare she humiliate him like this!” Jennie urged her not to do anything rash. “Right now, Rebekah is the person your brother loves most. Please don’t do anything foolish.” “What about you? Are you really okay with watching him being taken away by someone else?” Evelyn said angrily, “My mom warned him to stay away from that venomous woman Rebekah on her deathbed, but after all these years, he still hasn’t changed!” “Evelyn, thank you for standing up for me. But it’s not necessary anymore. I’m planning to break up with your brother and leave this place to start a new life.” Evelyn felt even worse hearing this. She knew Jennie’s capabilities well and thought Wiley was throwing away a treasure with his own hands. “Jennie, will you cut ties with me too because of my brother?” “Of course not, but you have to promise to keep this between us.” Evelyn nodded firmly. Just then, Wiley woke up. Jennie suggested she go see him, but Evelyn was too angry and swore to cut ties with Wiley. After glancing at him, she turned and left the hospital. When Wiley woke up and saw Jennie by his side, he felt a strange sense of disappointment. “Your fever’s gone down. Are you feeling uncomfortable anywhere? I’ll call the doctor right away.” Jennie felt his forehead, her voice gentle. Wiley noticed she didn’t mention anything about the party incident. He wanted to explain but couldn’t find the words. “I’m fine now. Thank you for taking care of me these past few days.” Noticing her obvious dark circles, he couldn’t help but take her hand. Feeling how cold it was, he asked, “Why are your hands so cold?” Jennie pulled her hand away and said, “It’s nothing. You should eat something first.” She opened a thermal container and arranged the delicate dishes one by one. “Did you make all this?” Wiley’s appetite immediately returned. Jennie had always been a great cook, creating flavors you couldn’t find anywhere else. She nodded. “You’re allergic to alcohol, so I’ve prepared allergy medication for you to carry with you. I’ve also prepared meals for the week in the refrigerator at home. You can just heat them in the microwave.” While Jennie was meticulously explaining everything, Wiley felt an emptiness inside and an inexplicable unease. Looking at the gentle, quiet Jennie before him, various memories flashed through his mind. He remembered her cooking soup for him with her hair tied up, staying up all night to care for him during his allergic reactions, and her stubborn determination when she took the bottle for him. A strong sense of guilt suddenly washed over him. “Jennie, I’ve been really busy lately. Once I’m better, I promise I’ll spend more time with you.” “There’s something I want to discuss with you.” “Go ahead.” “Wiley, I want to…” Once again, Jennie’s words were interrupted. His phone rang—it was Rebekah. Jennie’s eyes darkened when she saw the caller ID. Wiley immediately turned away to answer the call. “Wiley, someone’s trying to kidnap me! I’m at the Velvet Lounge. Come save me, quick!” The call disconnected as soon as she finished speaking. “Hello? Hello?!” Wiley called out several times with no response. He abruptly sat up and yanked the IV needle from the back of his hand, causing blood to immediately drip out. “Wiley, where are you going?!” Jennie knew the call was from Rebekah. “Um, Jennie, something urgent came up. Go home and wait for me. I promise I’ll be with you tonight.” As he spoke, he rushed out of the hospital room and hailed a cab straight to the Velvet Lounge. Jennie smiled bitterly, thinking, “Rebekah truly is his only driving force.” When the doctor came to check on Wiley and saw what had happened, he scolded Jennie harshly. At the doctor’s insistence, Jennie had no choice but to head to the Velvet Lounge as well, to monitor Wiley’s condition. Meanwhile, in a private room at the Velvet Lounge, Rebekah was smoking cigars with a group of people. “Rebekah, do you really think Wiley will come? I heard he went into shock because of you and can’t even get out of bed.” “Yeah, if he doesn’t show up, you better keep your promise—five thousand dollars each!” Rebekah laughed scornfully, “Just wait and see yourselves lose. You’ll owe me a hundred thousand dollars. He deliberately got with another woman just to get me a kidney transplant. He’d do anything for me. He’d even give his life if I asked. Don’t believe me? Just watch!” “Wiley’s here!” Everyone immediately began their performance, and Rebekah quickly had someone set up the livestreaming equipment. She knew well that if this went viral and she became an internet celebrity, money would flow endlessly. Wiley, still in his hospital gown and slippers, kicked the door open. “Wiley, save me!” Wiley saw Rebekah being held at knifepoint and his eyes widened. “Let her go!” The number of viewers in the livestream surged, with excited comments flooding in. “Oh my god, what a devoted man!” “He actually ran out of the hospital to save a woman—he’s completely crazy!” “Mr. Myers looks so handsome when he’s being loyal!” A notification for a “Breaking Livestream” popped up on Jennie’s phone. She was about to dismiss it when she saw Wiley’s name. She froze, suddenly understanding everything. With trembling fingers, she opened the livestream. Sure enough, it was broadcasting Wiley rescuing Rebekah—this was all Rebekah’s deliberate setup. Rebekah was held at knifepoint, crying out to Wiley in terror. Wiley panicked, grabbed a nearby bottle, and rushed forward, only to be tackled to the ground after a few steps. “If you want to save your woman, pay up! She owes us money, and if she doesn’t pay, she’s dead!” “Wiley, I’m so scared! Help me…” Rebekah sobbed, her face filled with panic, acting incredibly convincingly. Viewers in the livestream praised Rebekah’s performance. Wiley growled like a trapped animal, “Let Rebekah go! How much do you need? I’ll get it!” “Ten million dollars! Right now!” Even Wiley was stunned by that figure. He couldn’t possibly produce that much cash, let alone immediately. But watching Rebekah being yanked up, he shouted with reddened eyes, “I’ll pay! I’ll pay! The necklace around my neck is worth ten million dollars. Take it and let her go!” Jennie watched this scene with a sinking heart. That necklace was Wiley’s mother’s keepsake, the only memento she had left him. Wiley didn’t even hesitate before offering it up for Rebekah. The necklace was yanked off, and Rebekah was pushed into Wiley’s arms. They embraced tightly while Rebekah shot a smug look at everyone. Livestream viewers thought the drama was over and began to leave. Seeing the viewership drop, Rebekah quickly signaled with her eyes. Just as the couple was about to leave, they were stopped again, and a dagger was thrown at their feet. “I gave you the necklace! What else do you want?” Wiley shielded Rebekah behind him. Having just been discharged from the hospital, he was still weak, barely standing, yet he persisted. “Think you can just leave? Someone has to pay in blood today!” “You’re going too far! I’m calling the police!” Rebekah, noticing the viewer count rising again, quickly escalated the tension. Suddenly, a slap landed across her face. “You bitch, you owe money and dare threaten us with police? I’ll stab you dead today!” Wiley used all his strength to tackle the man, both falling to the ground. He shakily got up, falling twice before steadying himself. “If I stab myself, will you let her go?” Everyone froze. Wiley looked dead serious, and they all uncertainly glanced at Rebekah. She immediately stepped forward, her face full of anticipation: “Wiley, would you really hurt yourself for me? If a man is willing to die for me, I’ll marry him.” Her words left Wiley delirious. “Rebekah, do you mean it? I’d die for you!” The knife plunged precisely into Wiley’s abdomen, shocking everyone. Rebekah screamed—she never expected Wiley to actually do it. “Rebekah, I know you’re livestreaming…” “Rebekah, keep your promise. I’m willing to die for you, so agree to marry me…” “I’d give you even my life.” As Wiley collapsed, he was still eagerly awaiting Rebekah’s answer. But Rebekah was too shocked to speak. Jennie told her driver to turn around, no longer watching the livestream. She knew Rebekah wouldn’t actually let Wiley die—the police and Myers Villa wouldn’t let her get away with it. She realized she had lost completely. Time and again, Wiley had proven his love for Rebekah with his wounds. Just then, Jennie’s phone rang—it was her alarm, reminding her it was time to leave. She had arranged everything, yet never found the opportunity to break up with Wiley. After a moment’s hesitation, she decided to visit the hospital to formally say goodbye to Wiley, putting an end to this ridiculous and tragic relationship. But as she reached the hospital room door, she saw the two figures embracing tightly. Rebekah leaned against Wiley’s shoulder, looking pitiful as she said, “Wiley, why are you so foolish? I just wanted to test if you truly cared about me. What would I do if something really happened to you? I only kept rejecting your confessions because you had a girlfriend. Why did you need to risk your life to prove your love? I was terrified. Wiley, I love you. Please don’t ever leave me again.” Rebekah’s confession didn’t make Wiley happy. When she mentioned the word “girlfriend,” he suddenly thought of Jennie. He reflected, “She’s always quiet and obedient, never joking about my safety. Even the slightest discomfort feels like a major crisis to her.” Wiley became confused, unsure how to respond to Rebekah. Just then, as he looked up in a daze, he thought he saw Jennie. She stood there expressionless, staring at him with Rebekah in his arms. Wiley panicked instantly, shoving Rebekah away as guilt washed over him. He ran out to chase after Jennie, but there was no sign of her anywhere. He wondered, “Did I imagine it? That day I left Jennie at the hospital, and she didn’t come home on time. Is she angry with me?” He rushed back to the hospital room and checked his phone—no messages from Jennie. He hadn’t been home for a long time, and she hadn’t sent a single greeting. In the past, she would constantly message him with questions; even after just a few hours without contact, she would send dozens of texts. Wiley suddenly felt anxious, as if something was slowly slipping away from him, beyond his control. He couldn’t understand why he felt so unsettled. Rebekah followed him out and grabbed his arm. Wiley forcibly suppressed his anxiety, reassuring himself that the most important person was already by his side. In the end, Jennie never returned to the hospital to say goodbye. She went home, picked up her already packed luggage, and got into Henry’s car to head to the airport. Before boarding, she sent Wiley one final message. [Let’s break up.] [I wish you and Ms. Gallagher eternal happiness. I’m leaving. Don’t expect to see me again.] For years, she had followed Wiley for love, only to lose everything in the end. Now she would start over! After sending the messages, Wiley never replied. She figured he must be too wrapped up in his blissful reunion with Rebekah to care, now that Rebekah had agreed to get back together. The boarding announcement began urging passengers to board. Jennie stared at the empty screen, then finally removed her SIM card and tossed it into the trash… She missed by just one second seeing the frantic messages Wiley was sending… She boarded the plane and gazed at the endless sea of clouds outside her window, slowly closing her eyes. She thought to herself, “Goodbye, Wiley. From now on, my life no longer requires your participation.”

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I was lounging at home after winning a ten-million-dollar lottery when I accidentally overheard a conversation between my mother, Tracy Powell, and my brother, Eric Powell. “Don’t worry, Eric, all this money will be yours. She’s just a useless girl who’ll end up in someone else’s family sooner or later. Our Powell family lineage depends on you.” That night, Tracy snuck into my room and stole the ten-million-dollar lottery ticket. I pretended not to notice. I bought Tracy diamond jewelry and even paid the down payment on Eric’s wedding house. By the time my bank account was completely drained and I was buried in massive debt, Tracy pulled out a document terminating our mother-daughter relationship. “Your brother is our family’s treasure. You’re just a money pit, and I can’t count on you for my retirement. For old times’ sake, I’ll give you two dollars for bus fare. Pack your things and get out of my house now!” I took the bag she had already packed for me and smiled calmly. “Fine.” “Amanda, since you’ve won ten million dollars in the lottery, you should take some time to rest at home. By the way, you’ve kept the ticket safe, right?” Tracy sat by my bed with a concerned look, holding a plate of freshly cut fruit. I flashed a confident smile, deliberately patting my bed. “Don’t worry, I’ve kept it safe. I’ll go cash it in once things quiet down a bit.” Tracy nodded, unable to contain her smile. “Good, good. I always knew you’d amount to something. Your brother and I will be counting on you from now on.” Her kind, gentle expression was completely different from when she had pointed at me and called me a money pit. She left my bedroom with a smile, not forgetting to remind me to keep the ticket safe. She also took the fruit she had just cut with her. As Tracy closed the door, the smile vanished from my face, leaving only coldness. Soon, I could hear hushed discussions from the next room. I knew they were plotting how to get their hands on the easy ten million dollars and then kick me to the curb. I’d always known Tracy hated me. She preferred Eric because his birth was proof that she had continued the Powell family line, giving her a reason to hold her head high. When I was little, I wasn’t allowed to eat at the table, but Eric could climb onto it during meals, and Tracy would praise him for being so clever. The good food was for Eric, leftovers for me. New clothes and shoes were for Eric, while I got hand-me-downs from relatives that had to be altered. While Eric played in the snow wearing thick clothes, I would shiver despite wearing all my clothes layered together. Eric could join any extracurricular activities he wanted, but I couldn’t even attend tutoring sessions. When I got into a prestigious university, she refused to pay my tuition or living expenses. But when academically challenged Eric wanted to go to college, Tracy emptied her savings to get him into a community college. She paid tens of thousands for his tuition and thousands each month for his living expenses. Whenever Eric ran out of money, he’d come to me, still in college myself. If I refused, Tracy would show up at my school the next day, calling me unfilial and spreading rumors that I was being kept by men. I’d had enough of supporting these two bloodsucking parasites all these years. So when I discovered I’d won ten million dollars, I knew the opportunity I’d been waiting for had finally arrived. Listening to the occasional mentions of “lottery,” “ten million dollars,” and “mattress” from the next room, I just smiled faintly. My fingers traced the edge of the lottery ticket, and my heart was completely at peace. This ticket had already served its purpose. If Tracy wanted it so badly, she could have it.

Early the next morning, as I came out of my room, Eric was humming a tune and twirling his car keys as he returned from outside. “Did you get a new car?” My sudden question startled Eric. “Why are you standing there like a ghost? Trying to scare me on purpose?” Ignoring the disgust in his voice, I continued asking. “When did you buy a car? Why didn’t you tell me? I might have been able to chip in some money.” He clicked his tongue, his tone filled with disdain. “This car costs seven hundred thousand dollars! Your pathetic salary couldn’t even pay for one interior piece!” With that, he went straight to his room. Seven hundred thousand dollars? I remembered the demolition compensation for the hill behind our old house was about five hundred thousand dollars. I had asked about that compensation money before, and Tracy had always guardedly said she put it all in fixed deposits. She repeatedly warned me that all that money belonged to Eric and told me not to set my sights on it. Six months ago, Tracy had taken one hundred and twenty thousand dollars from me, claiming she needed surgery for an illness. That one hundred and twenty thousand was what I had barely managed to save over the years by living frugally. I lived in the worst apartment, cooked my own meals with discounted groceries, never ate at restaurants, and even worked part-time jobs after my regular shifts. When I heard she needed surgery, I transferred the money to her without hesitation. I even got an advance on my monthly salary from my boss and borrowed from friends to send her a total of one hundred and fifty thousand dollars. I was planning to take time off to go back and care for her, but Tracy frantically stopped me when she found out. She said Eric would take care of her, and I should just focus on my job. At the time, I was touched, thinking Tracy had finally recognized my goodness and started to care about me. It turns out she was afraid I’d come back and discover she had used the money to buy Eric a car. Although I already knew what kind of person Tracy was, I still felt a chill in my heart. While I was so worried about her health that I couldn’t sleep at night, she was helping Eric shop for a new car. In this family, I’ve always been the odd one out. Ever since I won ten million dollars in the lottery, Tracy and her son have acted as if they had a legitimate excuse to ask me for money to buy things more and more frequently. Before, they would at least make up some excuses, but now they brazenly demand money. “The air conditioner at home isn’t working, Amanda, why don’t you buy a new one?” “Amanda, my friend has this beautiful diamond bracelet. Didn’t you win ten million in the lottery? Buy one for me.” “Your brother is getting married. As his sister, shouldn’t you show your support? Eric has already picked out a car, so just pay the down payment for him. When you cash in your lottery ticket, you can pay off the rest.” “Your brother’s wife is about to join the family. Mom, can you cover the wedding gift money for me first?” “I’ve found a house I like. Sis, can you help with the down payment? Better to spend the money on me than on others. When I get the house, you can stay there whenever you want!” From small appliances and jewelry to cars and houses. Time after time, I accepted their unreasonable demands. One by one, my bank cards were emptied, and when money wasn’t enough, I used credit cards. As long as they asked, I would definitely agree. I knew they wanted to completely drain me before I cashed in the lottery ticket, but I didn’t refuse any of their requests. I gradually cultivated their appetite, elevating their spending habits to another level. Watching them treat me like an ATM that only spits out money, mocking me as a fool behind my back, laughing heartily. I also laughed heartily. I sincerely hope they can still laugh this happily after they learn the truth.

Eric completely gave up working. The money he earned after a month of hard work wasn’t even enough for one of his meals now. Every day, he would casually ask me for money. I never complained and would give him tens of thousands of dollars each time. Since quitting his job, Eric spent all his time hanging out with his poker buddies, staying out all night, and occasionally disappearing for days. As for his upcoming wedding, Eric simply delegated everything to me. And I was determined to prepare this wedding properly for him. Tracy, meanwhile, helped me prepare for Eric’s wedding every day, spending money without any hesitation. She not only chose a five-star hotel for the wedding venue but also booked an entire floor of rooms to accommodate relatives. Several times, Tracy tried to probe me subtly. “Amanda, this hotel is so expensive. I wonder if your brother can afford it?” Ignoring the blatant testing in her expression, I replied calmly: “Mom, even though my savings are gone and my credit cards are maxed out, once I cash in my lottery ticket in a few days, there won’t be any problem. Besides, Eric is our only son. If I don’t spend money on him, who else would I spend it on?” Without hesitation, I maxed out another credit card to book the luxury wedding package at the five-star hotel. Seeing how readily I paid, Tracy was overjoyed and excitedly grabbed my hands. “Good, good! I knew you were the most sensible one! Eric is so lucky to have you as his sister!” Lucky? Of course he’s lucky, especially since I’ve prepared a special gift for him. The wedding day arrived quickly. When I reached the venue, I was stopped by the hotel security. “Ma’am, you cannot enter without an invitation.” I frowned, my voice sharp: “What do you mean I can’t enter? I’m the groom’s sister! I paid for this entire hotel booking!” My shrill voice quickly drew attention, and soon some relatives recognized me. They vouched for me to security, explaining I was indeed the groom’s sister, but the staff member looked troubled. “Ma’am, I’m just following protocol. Please don’t make this difficult for me—I’m just doing my job.” Familiar relatives pointed and whispered about me, with some even spreading rumors that I must have done something terrible to my family for them to exclude me from the wedding. Amid the commotion, Tracy and Eric appeared in their designer outfits. Seeing Tracy, I immediately rushed over to complain: “Mom, this security guard won’t let me in. I’m the groom’s sister! I spent so much money, and they won’t even let me enter!” Tracy glanced at me and said dismissively: “I told them not to let you in. And from now on, don’t call me ‘Mom’ anymore. We’re severing our mother-daughter relationship!” My angry expression froze as I stared at Tracy in disbelief. The relatives present erupted in shock. “What’s going on with Tracy? Amanda has always been so filial. Why suddenly cut ties?” “She must have done something shameful for her own mother to disown her!” As confused questions filled the hotel lobby, Tracy shouted: “Amanda, you’ve racked up hundreds of thousands in credit card debt and you’ve been sleeping around! Now that you see your brother won the lottery, you want to come crawling back and have us clean up your mess! I’m telling you, it’s not happening!” She threw down a document terminating our parent-child relationship. “Your brother is the backbone of our family. You’re just a financial burden, and we can’t count on you for our retirement. For the sake of our past relationship, here’s two dollars for your bus fare. Now get lost!” Two coins mockingly hit me as I picked up the document from the ground. I looked directly at Eric: “Eric, what about you? Do you want to cut ties with me too?” Eric looked at me smugly, his face full of disdain. “Amanda, we’ve been siblings for so many years, so let me say a few final words to you. You really messed up, owing so much money and sleeping around. Tell you what—since we’re siblings, I’ll help you a little. Get yourself a hotel room for the night.” With that, he pulled out two hundred dollars and tossed it over my head. Some relatives who knew how Tracy had treated me spoke up in my defense. Facing the relatives’ indignation, Tracy and Eric remained completely unfazed. I picked up the termination agreement, suppressing my trembling body. “Fine.” I quickly signed my name. Tracy and Eric hadn’t expected me to sign so easily. They checked the document several times before revealing their smug, victorious expressions. Seeing a group of people approaching from a distance, I also broke into a wide smile. “Today is my brother’s wedding, and I’ve prepared a special gift for him.”

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