Author: Momo Chan

For the millionth time, my toxic childhood best friend tried to gaslight me, telling me that no decent guy would ever be interested in me. So, I set my sights on the gorgeous, quiet guy living in the apartment right below mine. After intentionally putting his apartment number on my DoorDash orders twenty times in a row, he finally came knocking. “Your food keeps getting delivered to my place by mistake.” I played it completely cool. “It wasn’t a mistake. I did it on purpose. I’m trying to hit on you.” A faint blush instantly crept up the handsome guy’s neck. Beside me, my childhood friend Mason’s face darkened into a stormy scowl. He slammed the front door shut and sneered at me. “Avery, seriously? What’s the point of this pathetic little stunt? Is this because I told you I got a girlfriend?” “Give me a break. As if you’d actually have the guts to date a guy like him.” 1 After spitting that out, Mason marched over to the kitchen island, grabbed a glass of water, and downed it, his face tight with irritation. Just five minutes ago, he had dropped the bomb that he was in a relationship. The girl was a freshman—the soft, delicate, “innocent” type—who had been chasing him for three months. He told me that from now on, I needed to stop grabbing meals with him and maintain a proper distance so his new girlfriend wouldn’t get the wrong idea. For the first time ever, I didn’t pester him with a million questions. I just gave him a crisp, clean, “Okay.” Mason casually ruffled my hair, looking completely unfazed. “Don’t be sad. Next time I meet a decent guy in my frat, I’ll set you up.” My breath hitched for a second, but I quickly recovered. “No thanks.” I knew Mason’s circle of friends way too well. If they weren’t shameless players, they were nowhere near as good-looking as he was. None of them were right for me. I’ve been visual-oriented since kindergarten. Even when buying a coffee mug, I have to pick the prettiest one on the shelf. Why would I compromise on a man?! I’d rather be single than settle for ugly. Mason knew this about me better than anyone. We had known each other since we were three. Every time our parents took us out together, people would shower Mason with endless praise about how handsome and smart he was. Then they’d look at me and offer a polite, “And the little girl is… very cute too.” It wasn’t until middle school, when I started putting real effort into my appearance and style, that I finally managed to catch Mason’s eye. Even then, his compliments were always careless and half-hearted. “That outfit is okay.” “Your hair looks decent today.” “From a distance, you look alright.” After high school graduation, Mason and I both ended up at the same large state university. I worked hard on my fashion and fitness, but I still couldn’t seem to meet Mason’s impossibly high standards. There were always plenty of beautiful girls chasing him. He cycled through girlfriends about every six months. This current freshman made number four. It was always the same routine. Whenever he had a girlfriend, I was expected to keep my distance—no lunches, no library study sessions, no shopping trips together. Then, six months later when they broke up, he would come right back to me, acting like absolutely nothing had happened. He claimed we were just “bros.” To force myself to get some space from Mason, I started trying to meet other guys. But the second I started talking to someone new, Mason would laugh at me. “Give it a rest, Avery. Look in the mirror before you aim that high.” “He likes girls who are 110 pounds. You’re 130.” “You don’t even match his physical preferences.” After tearing me down, Mason would play the “comforting friend,” taking me out for junk food so we could binge eat together. He watched with satisfaction as I drifted further and further away from any other guys. Back then, I naively thought he just didn’t see me as a woman because we’d known each other for so long. Until the end of last month. We were at a party with some of his frat brothers, and someone joked about setting me up with a boyfriend. Mason, slightly buzzed, scoffed loudly. “Don’t mess with Avery. What if she takes you seriously, gets rejected, and then comes crying to me about how heartbroken she is?” His friend frowned. “I’m serious, Mason. The guy I’m thinking of just moved back from Europe, and he’s really good-looking.” “Plus, Avery has gotten seriously hot over the last few years.” “Who knows, maybe it’ll be love at first sight…” Mason clicked his tongue, interrupting him. “Sure, whatever. Set them up. Let’s all grab some popcorn and see if Avery can actually pull off a miracle and get a boyfriend.” The rest of the guys erupted into laughter. The friend, looking awkward, quickly backpedaled. “Avery, I was just kidding. Don’t take it seriously.” Then, the group went back to drinking and joking like nothing had happened. In Mason’s eyes, I simply didn’t deserve to date anyone outstanding or attractive. I liked pretty cups, cute jewelry, and nice things, and he never said a word about it. But the singular exception was men. The moment he saw me getting close to another guy, he would completely lose his mind. If he hadn’t explicitly rejected me in the past, I genuinely would have thought he was secretly in love with me. Suddenly, I was completely done with Mason. Absolutely, 100% done. When I got home that night, I set my sights on the gorgeous guy living in the apartment below mine. He had moved in last year. He was generally very quiet, and his expression was always cool and detached. Rumor had it that no matter who tried to talk to him, he would only respond with a single syllable. He wasn’t mute; he just hated talking. Last time, my bathroom had a leak that dripped down into his apartment. I was panicking and apologizing frantically, but he just stood there with an indifferent expression, looking at his damp ceiling. When we discussed compensation, he didn’t say a single word to me. He just let me name a price, nodded in agreement, and then showed me out. As I stood in his doorway, overshadowed by his tall frame, I looked up at his face. He was drop-dead gorgeous. The hallway light cast the shadow of his incredibly long eyelashes over his flawless cheeks. He had a high, straight nose bridge, and his pale, thin lips looked surprisingly soft. The very next day, I started ordering Uber Eats, filling in his apartment number as the delivery address every single time. At first, he didn’t seem to mind. It wasn’t until the twentieth “wrong delivery” that he finally couldn’t take it anymore and came upstairs to knock on my door. Which happened to be the exact moment Mason was in my living room, telling me he was dating someone new and that I needed to keep my distance. 2 Mason’s phone suddenly rang. He glanced at the screen and hit decline immediately. He shifted back into his casual demeanor, acting like the tense moment at the door hadn’t just happened. He walked over and casually threw an arm around my shoulder. “So, Avery, what are you having for dinner tonight?” I shoved his arm off me. “Steak.” Mason smirked. “Sounds good. What time? I’ll head back, change my clothes, and we can go together.” I looked at him, completely baffled. “Didn’t you just say you have a girlfriend and we need to keep our distance?” Mason raised an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eye. “So you are jealous that I’m dating someone?” I forced a tight smile. “No. I just already have plans with someone else.” Mason completely ignored my words, pinching my cheek like he was petting a puppy. “Who? That short roommate of yours again?” I swatted his hand away in extreme annoyance. “Her name is Riley, and I’ve told you that a million times.” Mason looked entirely unbothered. “Right, right, whatever her name is. It doesn’t matter. You can just cancel on her so we can grab dinner.” Suddenly, I just felt exhausted by him. As Mason turned around, heading toward the door to go change, I called out to his back. “Mason.” He stopped and let out a soft chuckle. “What, decided you want me to walk you to your car?” I spoke slowly, emphasizing every word. “The person I made plans with isn’t Riley. It’s the guy who was just at the door.” Mason’s tone instantly hardened. “Who? That guy from just now?” “Do you even know his name?” “What college does he go to?” “How old is he?” “Where is he from?” I froze for a second. “I don’t know.” “See? That’s ridiculous.” “But none of that changes the fact that I’m into him.” We both spoke at the exact same time. He looked at me like I had just told the funniest joke in the world. “Avery, did you not see the look on his face just now?” “Who gets happy when a complete stranger starts harassing them?” “If a normal guy actually gets confessed to by a girl he likes, he absolutely wouldn’t react with that kind of cold indifference.” After tearing me down, Mason paused, his voice dropping into a softer, patronizing tone. “Look, as your friend, I just don’t want to see you humiliate yourself.” Humiliate myself? Ha. I shot back. “How do you know I’d be humiliating myself?” “Who knows, maybe he likes me too.” Mason snorted. “He likes you?” “You’re only doing this stunt to get my attention because you’re mad I have a girlfriend.” “You really don’t have to do this. I told you, we’re always going to be best friends.” My voice turned to ice. “Mason, I really don’t think friends get to dictate each other’s romantic feelings.” “Just like I’ve never once criticized your terrible taste in girlfriends, maybe you could stop trying to micromanage my life?” Mason’s face went completely dark. He pulled out his phone and pressed the button to record a voice memo. “Change of plans. You pick the restaurant for tonight. I’ll be there soon.” 3 After sending the message, he yanked the front door open, ready to leave. Before stepping out, he glared at me with cold eyes. “Avery, I don’t care what kind of game you think you’re playing, but let me make one thing crystal clear.” “I don’t care.” “And that guy downstairs? There is absolutely zero chance he likes you.” My rebellious streak hit an all-time high. I decided to spout absolute nonsense just to spite him. “Why couldn’t he like me? What if he does?” As the words left my mouth, my answer was Mason’s smug, triumphant smirk. And the stiff, frozen figure of the handsome neighbor, standing right there in the open doorway. Mason had done that on purpose. I had no idea if the neighbor hadn’t gone back downstairs yet, or if he had walked back up! My heart dropped into my stomach. Mason pulled out a vape, took a hit, and asked casually. “Hey man, do you actually like Avery?” In Mason’s flippant, arrogant tone, my heart leaped into my throat. The handsome neighbor’s gaze moved slowly from Mason until it landed on me. Mason’s lips curled into a victorious sneer. “Avery, if you’re going to lie, at least make it believable.” “Saying you’re chasing a total stranger just to make me mad is honestly pathetic.” Having said that, he softened his voice and tried to coax me again. “Are we still going to dinner tonight?” “I’m going, I’ll just go with you…” “My name is Rowan.” Rowan’s deep voice cut right through the air, interrupting Mason mid-sentence. “Huh?” Mason frowned. Rowan’s beautiful eyes completely ignored Mason. He looked at me with absolute calm and spoke again. “My name is Rowan.” “And I know your name.” My name? Right! When I went to his apartment about the leak last time, I had introduced myself. I didn’t expect him to actually remember. Faced with Rowan’s blatant dismissal, Mason rapidly lost his patience, his tone turning aggressive. “Hey, I asked you a question. Do you like Avery or not?” Rowan’s expression remained completely indifferent. “What does who I like have to do with you?” I finally let out the breath I had been holding. Thank god. At least Rowan hadn’t denied it. I stepped forward and shoved Mason out into the hallway. “He’s right, who he likes is none of your business.” I bit my lip and continued, “And who I like is none of your business either.” Mason was so angry he viciously bit his lower lip, his eyes cold enough to freeze water. “Avery, remember you said that.” “Don’t come crying to me in a few days when you get played.” With that, Mason turned on his heel and marched into the elevator without looking back. Before the elevator doors even closed, I could hear him calling his girlfriend, his voice completely different. I took a deep breath and let out a self-deprecating laugh. Thinking about all the days I spent revolving my entire life around Mason, I felt like a total idiot. I looked at Rowan standing in the doorway. “Hey handsome—I mean, Rowan. Thank you for today.” “Are you free right now? If it’s convenient, I’d love to buy you dinner.” Rowan didn’t ask what we were eating or where we were going. His perfectly straight posture stiffened slightly, and he gave a soft, quiet, “Yeah.” 4 We didn’t go get steak. I took Rowan to a popular, authentic Sichuan restaurant nearby. I ordered a few classic dishes, and it ended up being way too spicy for him. His thick eyelashes were misted with tears from the heat, fluttering against his pale, flawless skin. It was incredibly eye-catching. We were sitting in the main dining room, and his striking appearance caused quite a few people to turn their heads. I caught myself staring for a second. His face and build were truly top-tier. Seeing me zone out, Rowan waved a hand gently in front of my face. I coughed awkwardly. “I’m so sorry, I… I didn’t know you couldn’t handle spicy food.” He shook his head, took a large gulp of water, his voice slightly hoarse. “It’s fine.” After we finished eating, I formally laid out my thoughts to Rowan. I told him that I had genuinely wanted to pursue him before, but mostly it was because I just wanted the idea of a relationship, which was an irrational and immature way to act. I apologized profusely for bothering him by sending my takeout to his door and promised I wouldn’t do it again. Rowan looked a bit surprised, opened his mouth to speak, but then fell silent. On the walk back, he didn’t say a single word. His eyes were downcast, and the heavy silence was making me anxious, so I reached out and poked his arm. “Rowan, if you have something to say, just say it.” “We’re just normal neighbors. You don’t have to worry about making things awkward between us.” Rowan stopped walking. He pulled out his phone, held it out to me, and said, “Let’s add each other’s numbers.” His tone was clear, his actions decisive. I opened my phone and accepted his contact request. As Rowan looked down to type in my name, he spoke. “I didn’t go upstairs to your apartment because I was annoyed by the food deliveries.” “I had insomnia for a while and completely lost my appetite. The food you ordered was actually really delicious.” He paused for a beat. “If it’s convenient… could you keep ordering for me this week? I’ll Venmo you the money.” What? Even though I had carefully handpicked all the food I ordered, the fact that he actually liked my food choices was a plot twist I hadn’t seen coming. “Uh… if you trust my taste, then I can handle your three meals a day.” “I might not know much else, but when it comes to finding good food, I’m practically an expert.” Rowan let out a small sigh of relief, offering a faint smile and a soft, “Yeah.” As we got into the elevator, I asked casually. “Did you buy this apartment?” Rowan: “Yes.” “I think the previous owner was someone else.” Rowan hesitated slightly. “Yeah. It was a resale.” “Their renovations were pretty nice. You probably paid a premium for it.” “It was alright.” “So, is there anything specific you want to eat tomorrow? If not, I’ll just surprise you.” Rowan shook his head. “Whatever you pick is fine.” When I got home, I planned out Rowan’s meals for the next day, and then I noticed a group chat with 99+ unread messages. It was a chat group Mason had set up, consisting of about six of his frat brothers. I accidentally clicked into the chat and it automatically scrolled to the top, where I saw that Mason had invited a new account with a cartoon avatar into the group. Everyone else was sending messages welcoming the “new sister-in-law.” Then someone posted a video of Mason and her kissing at a scenic overlook, the two of them practically glued together. In the video, once Mason realized someone was filming, he leaned into it even more, making the guy filming cheer loudly. The girl hid shyly in Mason’s chest, while he casually patted her back, leaning down to whisper in her ear. I watched the video, feeling completely numb, with no desire to scroll any further. I hit ‘Leave Group’ immediately. I lay down on my sofa, posted a photo of the spicy Sichuan food, and raved in the caption about how amazing it tasted. 5 The next day, Mason’s social media circle completely blew up. Rumors were flying everywhere that seeing Mason in a relationship had shattered my heart, and that I was posting random food pictures in a desperate attempt to make him jealous. When I received a frantic text from my roommate Riley, I was just getting off the phone with my parents, telling them about the Mason situation. I told them that I was putting distance between Mason and me. We wouldn’t be driving home for the holidays together anymore, and we wouldn’t be hanging out on campus. I also asked them to stop reaching out to Mason for random favors. My mom immediately understood what was going on. My dad stayed silent, but quietly wired a chunk of money into my bank account. The note attached said I could use it to buy whatever I wanted or take a trip. After hanging up, I saw a barrage of voice memos from Riley. [Avery, I was at my part-time job at the cafe this afternoon and ran into Mason and his friends.] [The second they sat down, they started talking about you.] [They were acting like they knew everything, saying you were heartbroken, letting yourself go, impulsively leaving the group chat, and that your whole “I’m over it” act is totally fake.] [They were even taking bets, joking that in a week, max, you’ll inevitably come crawling back to beg Mason to hang out again.] [The most infuriating part is Mason sitting there, using this cold, arrogant voice, saying that even if you come looking for him this time, he won’t forgive you easily.] Riley sounded angrier with every word. She hesitated for a second: [Avery, honestly, aside from his looks, Mason is way too arrogant. Maybe you should just…] She stopped herself. During my two years in college, I hadn’t made many close friends; Riley was my best friend. [Thank you, Riley.] [Don’t worry, the past is the past. Out of all the garbage they spouted, the only true thing is that I left the group chat. Everything else is a lie.] [From now on, Mason is nothing but a stranger to me.] Whenever he used “jokes” to put me down and belittle me, any feelings I had for him slowly died. After replying to Riley, I went downstairs to take out the trash, and ran into Rowan in the elevator again. I had actually run into him this morning when I went for my run. Now, he had changed into a clean white t-shirt. His hair was still slightly damp from a shower, and he smelled like fresh body wash. It was incredibly nice. Coincidentally, he was also holding a trash bag. I smiled at him. Rowan gave a slight nod, his voice soft and smooth. “The place you picked today was really delicious too.” “Huh?” I glanced at the takeout bag in Rowan’s hand. “Oh, you mean dinner! I told you, that place might not be huge, but their ingredients are top-notch.” “The flavors are great too. It’s one of my regular spots.” I didn’t know how to cook, so my daily routine was either eating out or throwing together a simple salad. When it came to food, I definitely knew what I was talking about. I scouted all these places in person; I never just blindly ordered off DoorDash. Rowan nodded in agreement, then fell silent. When the elevator reached the first floor, he followed me out and stayed right by my side. After throwing away the trash, he glanced at me subtly a few times, looking a bit tense before calling my name. “Avery.” “Yeah?” “Tonight, I wanted to…” He stopped, hesitating, looking like he couldn’t quite get the words out. A delivery driver walking past stared at us with wide eyes. Rowan didn’t notice. His voice was low, carrying a hint of embarrassment. “Would… would you want to come over?” He tried to say something else after asking. I panicked, immediately clapping my hand over his mouth and shoving him backward into the dimly lit hallway. His soft lips pressed firmly against the palm of my hand. I used to think Rowan was bad with words. Looking at him now… He was bold as hell! How could he ask something like that so naturally?! Rowan was pressed against the wall in the dark hallway. In the dim light, a blush crept up to the corners of his beautiful eyes, his eyelashes fluttering. His hot breath brushed evenly against my palm, and my heart started hammering wildly in my chest. I couldn’t even form a coherent sentence. “Uh… um, Rowan.” “Are you sure you want me to come over tonight?” “Considering our relationship, going to your place isn’t a great idea, right?” Rowan gently pulled my hand away. Perhaps realizing he had been too forward, he asked softly. “Then… how about we do it at your place?” “I’ll go get the stuff ready.” “Ah!” My face burned with absolute fire. When I got back home, I took a cold shower to lower my body temperature. I felt like everything was happening so fast I was completely defenseless. I decided to scroll through Reddit to find some advice. I genuinely wanted to get to know Rowan. But jumping straight into that was way too fast! Thank god for Reddit, there are tons of advice threads for this kind of thing. As I scrolled casually, a gossip thread in the bottom left corner caught my eye. It featured a pale, innocent-looking avatar, and the title was: “My boyfriend has a toxic ‘pick-me’ childhood friend. What do I do?” The attached image was a cup of green tea—classic internet slang for a manipulative, fake-innocent girl. Curious, I clicked on it. Her profile was empty; this was her only post, made two hours ago. The comments had already surpassed a thousand. In a pinned comment, she explained that her boyfriend had a female neighbor his own age who had loved him since childhood. It caused her boyfriend a lot of distress. Because their parents were close, he couldn’t be too blunt with her. This led the girl to misunderstand her place, throwing a tantrum every time her boyfriend interacted with other girls. On the surface, she pretended to stay away, but in reality, she hovered around him constantly. It was disgusting. She even deliberately tried to seduce his friend’s relative who just moved back from Europe, but her boyfriend saw right through her. The most bizarre part was that right after the author and her boyfriend made their relationship official, this fake childhood friend threw a fit for attention, leaving their private group chat and pretending to block him. … I stared at the long wall of text, noting that the poster had the exact same campus IP address as me. I fell into deep thought. Sure enough, in a comment questioning if her boyfriend was also at fault, she posted a screenshot to defend him. [You’re misunderstanding! My boyfriend’s friends all know exactly how toxic she is.] [When she found out we were dating, she even threatened him by saying she was going to go find a random guy to date.] [Thankfully, my boyfriend has zero interest in her.] I clicked on the attached image. It was a screenshot of a group chat, where several guys were taking turns trashing the so-called “fake childhood friend.” The blurring on the names was incredibly sloppy, probably done on purpose to prove it was real. I instantly recognized the names of Mason’s frat brothers. … Wow. Just wow. I thought making things clear with Mason would be the end of it. I never expected his friends, and even his new girlfriend, to be obsessively fantasizing about me behind my back. And adding completely fabricated, twisted details to boot. I quickly typed out a response. [I didn’t want her boyfriend, I didn’t seduce anyone, and I certainly didn’t do any of the dramatic nonsense she hallucinated.] Less than two minutes after I posted my comment, Brooke (the girlfriend) deleted the group chat screenshot. Fortunately, I had already saved it. The internet loves drama, and some users started demanding a showdown between us. Before I could reply, Brooke couldn’t wait to jump in. [I deleted the screenshot to save her some dignity. She wouldn’t dare actually confront me.] After she replied, the hate comments directed at me multiplied, drowning out the few voices of skepticism. I laughed in sheer anger. I immediately created a new post, attached the screenshot of her original post, and tagged Brooke’s account. I laid out the entire history between me and Mason, clear and simple. Every time we went out, it was Mason who invited me. Every time there was a holiday, he bought the tickets home first before asking me. Every time I tried to distance myself, he would “accidentally” show up wherever I was. When I wanted to talk to other guys, he would “kindly” remind me of all my flaws. Every time he broke up with a girlfriend, he’d come looking for me, claiming I was his “bro.” After writing the post, I pinned a comment at the top. [Feel free to question anything. I have chat logs to prove every single word.] 6 After furiously posting the receipts, I remembered I was supposed to be figuring out a plan for Rowan. The drama had completely killed my mood for scrolling through Reddit advice. I figured I might as well just be direct with Rowan. When he came up, I would just ask him. If he was actually interested in me, we could start by getting to know each other first. Just thinking about it made my face burn. There was a loud knock on the door. I opened it to find Rowan. He said he was having trouble deciding what to buy and wanted my opinion. My heart skipped a beat. I pulled him inside. “What is it?” Rowan pulled out his phone and held it out to me. “I picked out a few things. Take a look.” Facing the phone shoved in my face, I squeezed my eyes shut and blurted everything out at lightning speed. “Rowan, look, we’ve only known each other for less than a month. This is way too fast.” “Yes, I admit I like your face, I like your body, and I was genuinely trying to pursue you before.” “But… but we can’t move this fast. We haven’t even gone on a date, and you want us to just hook up.” “We’re adults, I understand having needs, but you’re being way too blunt about this.” “Tell me the truth. Have you been secretly in love with me for a long time?” After I finished asking, there was nothing but silence and the sound of breathing. I slowly opened my eyes. I saw Rowan standing there, completely frozen. His eyes went from hazy, to a sudden dawn of realization, and then back to silence. After a long moment, he glanced at his phone. I followed his gaze. The screen displayed rows and rows of groceries. Groceries! Not… adult items! Ingredients! For cooking. I felt like I had been struck by lightning, turning to stone on the spot. Fighting the overwhelming urge to find a hole to crawl into and die, I forced a strained smile at Rowan. “You… you were talking about cooking?” Rowan blinked his beautiful eyes, his voice stretching out slightly. “Spicy Cajun seafood boil.” “Oh! Great… great dish,” I stammered, biting my lip in agony. “Truly a fantastic dish.” I have no idea how I survived the rest of that evening. I didn’t dare make eye contact with him once. He brought the groceries over to my place. I washed the vegetables, and he meticulously followed an online recipe, step by step. This guy didn’t just have good looks; his ability to learn was insane. The seafood boil he made looked and smelled incredible. It was just insanely spicy. He bought the wrong kind of chili powder. When I handed Rowan a glass of iced tea, my hand trembled, and I spilled it all over him. He went to the bathroom to clean up, but his entire shirt was stained. I told him to take it off. I dug through my closet and found a shirt I had bought for Mason a while ago but never gave to him. Later, I just hadn’t wanted to give it to him at all. I told Rowan to just wear it for now, and he could change when he went back home. As I walked out with the shirt, I saw Mason standing at the bathroom door, his face livid. He had forgotten I changed my apartment passcode! Inside the bathroom was a shirtless Rowan. In an instant, Mason threw a violent punch right at Rowan’s face.

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My new intern is sweet, obedient, and completely innocent. Every day, I drag him into my passionate rants against our boss: “Repeat after me! Down with capitalism! Power to the working class!” He obediently repeats it. Me: “The evil corporate overlords will eventually face their demise!” He furrows his brow, looking a little hesitant: “The evil corporate overlords… will eventually face their… demise.” Me: “The CEO’s son is a pompous, trust-fund prick!” His face instantly turns beet red: “Miss… don’t you think that’s a bit too harsh?” 01 “Huh? Whose side are you on?” Cole blinks his puppy-dog eyes, offering a completely harmless smile: “Yours, obviously.” “Then what are you scared of? It’s not like you’re the CEO’s son.” I narrow my eyes, looking him up and down. “Wait… there’s a rumor going around that the Crown Prince is undercover at our branch. It couldn’t be you, could it?” Cole’s eyes dart away for a second. “Um… are you hungry? We should check the UberEats lunch specials.” “True,” I scoff. “As if a billionaire heir would be splitting a ten-dollar BOGO coupon with a peasant like me.” “They’re probably eating filet mignon and drinking vintage wine for every meal!” Cole chuckles softly, his eyes shining as he looks at me. “The way you talk is so cute.” I raise an eyebrow at him. “Smooth talker. Alright, today we’re upgrading to the twelve-dollar combo!” 02 Cole is the new intern at our company. Soft, fluffy hair, puppy-dog eyes, and crisp white button-down shirts always buttoned to the very top collar. When he smiles, two little dimples appear. He’s sweet and pure. He just comes from a modest background. Every time we split a lunch order, he’s never picky. He eats whatever I order, and cleans his plate completely, like a giant, easily satisfied golden retriever. And he’s incredibly easy to tease. The second I call him “kid,” the tips of his ears turn bright red. “Hey kid, you want the teriyaki bowl today? I’ll add an extra egg for you.” Sure enough, his face flushes again. But today, completely out of the blue, he sends me a link. “Let’s not do the cheap combo today. Let’s do this.” “Sure.” I click the link: [Michelin-Star Kaiseki – Premium Tasting Menu for Two]. ??? My eyes practically pop out of my head. “This is not the UberEats I know.” His eyes curve into a smile. “This is the fancy eats.” “Kid, do I look like someone who can afford this on a four-thousand-dollar monthly salary? What kind of lunch delivery costs $588? That’s highway robbery!” His tone is confident. “If we take three pictures and write a 15-word Yelp review, they’ll refund us $568 as a promotional rebate.” “Seriously? Are you sure?” “Positive. You can call the restaurant and ask.” Cole leans in, lowering his voice. “Last time I went to their physical location, I got a $1,600 meal and they refunded me $1,550.” How does this kid keep stumbling into these insane luck-of-the-draw promotions? Well, I can’t say no to that. If there’s a loophole to exploit the capitalists, I’m taking it. And just like that, Cole and I upgraded from “cheap lunch buddies” to “exploiting corporate promotional loopholes buddies.” 03 New Zealand scampi. Chew, chew, chew. A5 Japanese Wagyu. Chew, chew, chew. Hokkaido sea urchin. Chew, chew, chew. I gossip while I eat: “I got a reliable tip. Apparently, the CEO’s son is super tall and insanely hot. Like, A-list celebrity hot.” Cole, who is currently drinking sparkling water, violently chokes. “Cough, cough… seriously? That exaggerated?” I chew on my fork, thinking. “Hey? Now that you mention it, are there any super hot guys in your intern class?” I frown, my gaze landing squarely on him. “Why do I feel like… you’re the best-looking one?” Cole’s Adam’s apple bobs. He involuntarily loosens his tie. At first glance, this guy looks like an obedient, soft-haired puppy. But looking closely, his facial features are actually incredibly sharp and defined, with a high, straight nose bridge. He’s a very, very pretty puppy. Maybe my female-gaze stare is a bit too blatant. Cole’s chest visibly heaves, the muscular outline beneath his dress shirt subtly flexing. Pop. A button on his shirt flies off. And it pops off in the most precarious, perfectly placed spot. Through the gap, I can simultaneously see the defined lines of his pecs and his upper abs. Cole immediately grabs the gaping fabric, his face turning the color of a boiled lobster. “D-don’t look…” “Oh, please, I already saw it.” I rest my chin on my hand, highly satisfied. “Hehe. Not bad at all. “Alright, I know you aren’t the CEO’s son. What kind of billionaire heir wears cheap shirts that pop their buttons? “Plus, you curse out the corporate overlords with me every day. A guy wouldn’t curse himself out, right?” Cole lowers his head, rubs his nose, and stays completely silent. As obedient and guilty as a big dog with its ears pinned back. 04 The CEO is coming to inspect our branch next month. Everyone is running around like headless chickens, on high alert. VP Miller, our notoriously awful middle manager, dumps a mountain of his own backlog onto my desk. “Mr. Miller, I haven’t even finished my own quarterly reports yet.” “Then do it after hours,” Miller shoots me a cold, dismissive look. “Time is like water in a sponge; if you squeeze hard enough, you’ll always find some. “Riley, this is a prime opportunity to show off your skills in front of the CEO. You better cherish it.” Evil corporate overlords! Even a petty middle manager like Miller gets to enslave bottom-tier corporate drones like me. I sit at my desk, radiating pure resentment, typing furiously on my keyboard. A slice of strawberry shortcake is carefully slid across my desk. Half of Cole’s head peeks out from behind my monitor. “You’re typing like you’re firing a machine gun. Bad mood?” “No shit!” I glare viciously at the screen. “I don’t want to ‘show off my skills’ to the CEO. I’m just a corporate drone, and this drone just wants to go to sleep.” Cole looks surprised. “Are you presenting this report to the old man?” “Who’s the old man?” “I mean… the CEO.” Cole clears his throat softly. “I’m so used to cursing out the capitalists with you, it just slipped out.” “Watch your mouth around the office, kid,” I lecture him. Cole chuckles, muttering something incredibly softly: “It’s fine to meet him. We’ll have to meet him sooner or later anyway.” 05 After that, Cole constantly finds excuses—usually involving our “lunch deals”—to stay late and keep me company while I work overtime. He somehow always manages to find these incredible “free tasting” promotions. Private chef menus, high-end sushi, French cuisine, Italian… “Why don’t you just move a whole Michelin-star restaurant into the office?” I stare, dumbfounded, at a massive, perfectly steamed red grouper. Cole scratches his head sheepishly. “Well, all these places offer two-person tasting menus, and you’re my only food buddy.” Whatever. It’s free. Chew, chew, chew. Cole sits at my computer, helping me format data. This wage slave is finally experiencing the luxury of having a younger, prettier wage slave do her work. While eating, I start scrolling through TikTok. The algorithm, doing what it does best, feeds me an endless stream of shirtless male fitness models posting thirst traps. “What are you looking at? Why are you smiling like that?” Cole suddenly leans over and asks. My grin is stretching from ear to ear; I can’t hide it fast enough. I have no choice but to bluff my way through: “I am simply admiring the impressive fitness results of these creators and offering them my supportive ‘likes’.” Cole blinks innocently. “Then why is he doing pushups while wearing a leather choker?” “…Aesthetics.” “Do you like that?” “I work out too.” He looks at me with sheer, unadulterated earnestness, his eyes clear. “Do you want to inspect my results?” Before I can even process what’s happening, Cole grabs my hand and presses it flat against his chest. “I think I’ve made decent progress.” He guides my hand lower. “What do you think?” Through the thin fabric of his shirt, his pecs are full and firm, and the ridges of his abs are distinct and rock-hard. It feels absolutely incredible. I finally understand why older men like innocent, naive young girls. His oblivious, accidental seduction is practically a lethal weapon. “Not bad,” I say, forcing myself to stay calm and swallowing hard. “With this level of fitness, you could totally make thirst trap videos… “I mean—fitness videos! Educational fitness videos!” 06 The day of the CEO’s inspection finally arrives. VP Miller trails right beside the CEO, acting as sycophantic as a groveling little troll. The CEO flips through the printed presentation materials. As he reads, he suddenly chuckles. “This report is very unique. It’s concise, clear, and… highlights the key points perfectly. “Who put this together?” VP Miller instantly jumps in to steal the credit. “Mr. Sterling, I did!” “You?” The CEO frowns, looking thoroughly disgusted. “He didn’t make it,” Cole’s voice suddenly rings out. “What do you mean I didn’t make it?!” VP Miller snaps, jumping in panic. I frantically tug at Cole’s shirt hem. Lord have mercy, shut your mouth! But this idiot completely ignores me, declaring with absolute righteousness: “Because I watched Riley Brooks make it.” I close my eyes and pray for a swift death. My career is officially over as of today. It wasn’t until later that I found out what the CEO actually saw in the report. On the very last page of the printed materials, there was a tiny line of text Cole had typed in: [This summary was made by your future daughter-in-law. Praise her.] … The CEO calls me into the VIP reception room. I thought he was going to ask me about the company’s operations, but instead, he just makes small talk. The CEO is beaming, looking as friendly as an amiable neighbor: “Riley, right? Don’t be nervous, I’m a very easygoing guy.” Then he proceeds to ask me things like, “Is the workload too heavy?” and “Are your parents doing well?” And at the very end, he actually asks me for my thoughts on older woman/younger man relationships. “What did you say?” When I step out, Cole asks me, looking noticeably nervous. “I said age doesn’t matter, as long as he has big muscles.” I stare blankly ahead in a daze. “And then the CEO laughed. His executive secretary stood there clapping, saying the CEO hasn’t laughed that hard in years.” Cole starts laughing too. “You better back up those words with actions.” “You should be worrying about how you offended VP Miller,” I sigh heavily. “He’s incredibly petty. “The last guy who called him ‘Assistant VP’ instead of ‘VP’ was forced to resign. We’re both probably dead meat.” Cole looks completely relaxed. “It’s fine. You have me.” I look at him with deep pity. Ah, the fearless arrogance of a newborn calf. “What exactly is an intern making minimum wage going to do?” “Didn’t you say my body was pretty good?” Cole shrugs. “Worst case scenario, I’ll go film thirst traps to support you.” 07 That evening is the welcome banquet for the CEO. Formal attire is mandatory. Wearing a cocktail dress and stilettos, I stumble my way into the lavish, gilded banquet hall. It’s a sea of designer gowns, champagne flutes, and elite networking. A room full of VIPs I don’t recognize. When I finally spot Cole, I almost don’t recognize him. “Why did you dress up so much?” He’s wearing a perfectly tailored, dark grey bespoke suit. His usually soft, fluffy hair is slicked back cleanly, exposing a sharp forehead and piercing eyes. The glasses are gone, and his features are so strikingly handsome they’re almost intimidating. His aura is completely overwhelming. I click-clack over to him in my heels. I drag him to the buffet table and start inhaling the hors d’oeuvres. “What does an event like this have to do with us anyway?” I shove a mini tart into his hand and happen to catch a glimpse of the watch on his wrist. “This fake Patek Philippe… is actually incredibly detailed. It’s so shiny.” A vein twitches in Cole’s temple, but he doesn’t say a word. I look up, only to see VP Miller marching toward us with a face like thunder. “We’re dead, we’re dead. Miller is coming to collect our souls!” He definitely couldn’t find an excuse to yell at us in the office earlier, and now he’s finally caught us. Miller approaches, giving us a fake, plastic smile, his tone dripping with sarcasm: “Well, well, Riley. You certainly stole the spotlight today. “But don’t you forget who your actual boss is. You’re young, you need to know your place, understand?” From the side, Cole comments dryly: “Not for much longer.” Miller instantly explodes: “I haven’t even started on you yet! Who told you to interrupt?!” I quickly try to smooth things over: “Mr. Miller, please, calm down. He’s just an intern, he doesn’t know any better…” “An intern?!” Miller raises his voice, spit practically flying into my face. “Believe me, I can have both of you fired by tomorrow morning!” “Who are you firing?” a deep, steady, amused voice cuts in. The CEO, Richard Sterling, had silently walked up beside us. “Mr. Miller, you certainly enjoy throwing your weight around.” Miller instantly shrinks into a quivering mess, wiping sweat from his forehead. “I wouldn’t dare, Chairman Sterling! It’s just this intern, he has absolutely no respect for authority. “I had to discipline him, otherwise what if he offends you?” “That is true,” the CEO nods, looking profoundly agreeable. “This kid has no respect for authority at home, either. “He won’t even call me ‘Dad’ properly. Just calls me ‘old man’ all day long.” … The air freezes. Miller is sweating buckets, his eyes bulging so hard they might pop out of his skull. Wait… who is calling who Dad? Who is whose father?! 08 A few minutes later, the CEO drags Cole onto the stage. “Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce my son, Cole Hayes. He just returned from his studies in Germany and is currently starting from the ground up as an intern in our branch…” I don’t know if VP Miller dropped to his knees. Because I had already bolted. Lifting my annoying dress, I stumble and practically sprint out the back doors. After a few blocks, I’m completely out of breath and collapse onto the edge of a concrete planter. Deep breaths. Stay calm. Then I begin to frantically review the tape: What the hell did I do in front of the ultimate capitalist heir? “…The CEO’s son is a pompous, trust-fund prick.” I made him do my work. I touched his abs. I told him he should film borderline-NSFW thirst traps. Ok, fine. It’s over. We working-class folks don’t start trouble, but we’re definitely terrified of it. Since I’ve already caused a catastrophic mess, there’s only one way out—resignation. I need to get home first! As I stand up, I realize I was running so frantically that I think I twisted my ankle. “Hiss…” I drop my butt back onto the planter. “Where are you trying to run?” Cole’s voice sounds from above my head. A suit jacket, still carrying his body heat, is draped over my shoulders. “The night wind up here is a bit chilly. Don’t catch a cold.” I close my eyes and accept my fate. Cole sits down next to me on the planter. Like I’ve been electrocuted, I scoot a few inches away. “What? Because I’m a capitalist heir, you need to draw a clear line in the sand?” I grit my teeth: “Your last name is Hayes. Shouldn’t the Crown Prince’s last name be Sterling?” “I took my mother’s maiden name. She passed away when I was young.” …A massive miscalculation on my part. A moment of silence passes. He turns his head, looking at me cautiously. “Are you mad?” “This lowly peasant wouldn’t dare.” “So you are mad.” He suddenly crouches down in front of me, tilting his face up, looking at me with those innocent puppy-dog eyes. “How about you hit me? I didn’t mean to lie to you.” I’m not falling for this again! Even if he grabs my hand and uses it to punch his own pecs… Even though the muscle definition feels incredible, I am not falling for it again! “How could I dare strike the Crown Prince?” I coldly pull my hand back. He stays in his crouched, kneeling position, lowering his pride to the absolute dust: “On one hand, I didn’t want to expose my identity so I could observe the real operational status of the branch.” “On the other hand, it was for my own selfish reasons.” He looks up, staring directly into my eyes. “I wanted to get close to you.” I look away. “Why would you want to get close to me?” “If you knew who I was from the start, would you still have split cheap lunches with me and cursed out the corporate overlords?” “Hell no!” He raises an eyebrow, putting on a ‘See? I told you so’ expression. “So I didn’t really have a choice.” “Wait!” I suddenly remember. “So all that incredible luck was fake? The Michelin-star meals, the private chefs… all of those promotions were just you tricking me?” Cole guiltily averts his eyes, looking exactly like a giant golden retriever that just chewed up a pair of sneakers, avoiding its owner’s gaze. “I’m going to pay you back for all of that!” I stomp my foot in anger, entirely forgetting my injury, and instantly gasp in pain. Cole immediately notices. “You twisted your ankle?” I bite my lip and nod. Without another word, he stands up and scoops me into his arms, carrying me princess-style. “What are you doing?! Put me down!” I scream and struggle. “Not a chance. Dream on.” 09 Cole’s face is dark, his jawline sharp as a knife. His usual docile, golden-retriever energy is completely gone, replaced entirely by an overwhelming, domineering aura. I’m carried and shoved into the backseat of a Maybach. The privacy partition rolls up, turning the backseat into an incredibly intimate space. The car glides smoothly forward. Cole pulls an ice-cold bottle of water from God knows where, lifts my injured ankle, and naturally rests it on his own thigh. The freezing plastic bottle presses against my skin, making me shiver. But my ankle, circled by the warmth of his palm, is faintly burning. “I can do it myself,” I say, trying to pull my foot back. Cole doesn’t let go. He looks up, his gaze heavy: “So, are we still friends right now?” “Young Master, if we really are friends, have you ever heard the saying?” I say in a grumpy tone: “I hate to see my friends suffer, but I’d hate it even more if they drove a Range Rover. “And you’re not even driving a Range Rover. You’re being chauffeured in a Maybach. What’s the car your dad drives with the little gold hood ornament called again?” Cole chuckles. “A Rolls-Royce.” I roll my eyes, leaving him to interpret my silence. “I’ll go home tonight, snap the little gold ornament off the old man’s car, and give it to you.” “Are you crazy?!” I raise my foot to kick him, but he catches my ankle firmly. “Stop moving around when you’re hurt. Behave.” I’m stunned into silence by his sudden strictness. We freeze in this overly intimate, suggestive position. Outside the window, the glow of the streetlights flickers across his face. His sharp, handsome features look even more alluring in the dim light. His Adam’s apple bobs. The dress shirt, buttoned to the very top, suddenly looks incredibly restrictive and sexy. My mouth goes dry. I feel like all the blood in my body is rushing straight to my head. He seems to be getting closer and closer to me. Or am I getting closer to him? Just as those incredibly kissable lips are mere inches away, the driver’s voice comes through the intercom: “Sir, we have arrived at the destination.” It’s like I’m suddenly exorcised of a demon. I snap awake. I look out the window—isn’t this my apartment building? I shove the car door open and bolt. Cole finally snaps out of his daze. “Hey, is your ankle okay? Let me walk you up.” I’m limping wildly, fleeing at top speed, waving my hand without looking back: “No need, no need! I live on the first floor!” We almost kissed just now. If I let Cole walk me to my door, God knows what would happen. Men are a dangerous temptation! I smack my burning cheeks hard. Wake up, Riley! He’s the son of a billionaire CEO. You two are from entirely different worlds.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “406295”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

On my way home from being bullied at school, I found an unsigned notebook. I decided to use it as a diary, writing down the horrific bullying I was enduring. Suddenly, the notebook wrote a line back to me on its own. [Go to Lincoln High School and find Ryan Hayes. He will help you.] 1 July 26, 2009. Wednesday. Overcast. [Today, Chloe and Jessica shoved me onto broken glass. They forced me to kneel on it. They even pulled at my clothes and took a bunch of pictures. I cried and screamed in terror, but it was completely useless. It only made them more vicious. After all that torture, my voice was hoarse from crying, and there wasn’t a single part of my body that didn’t ache. I cried and told my parents, but they just said we’re poor and they can’t give me a better life. And that we can’t afford to offend them because their families have a lot of money. They have their parents protecting them; even the teachers and the principal listen to them. Why don’t I have anything? I don’t want to keep being bullied like this. I want someone to protect me too.] I traced my fingers over the bloodstains and tear marks on the notebook. I put down my pen. My knees hurt like hell. My parents had put some ointment on them, but that hurt too. Suddenly, the notebook twitched. Then, a sentence materialized on the page. [Stop crying. Go to Lincoln High School, senior year, homeroom 3. Find Ryan Hayes. He can protect you.] I stared blankly at the words on the notebook. It wasn’t a hallucination. The handwriting was bold and sharp; it looked like a guy’s. I picked up my pen and wrote back a few words: [Who are you?] [You don’t need to worry about who I am. Just go find Ryan Hayes. He will definitely help you.] [Oh right, it’s 2009. Make sure you tell him one specific phrase.] [What phrase?] I asked. [Just tell him: ‘I’m never eating cake again.’] I looked at that sentence, completely baffled. If it weren’t for the physical pain constantly reminding me I was awake, I would have thought this was a dream. After that, no matter what I wrote, the notebook didn’t reply anymore. 2 The next day, I got on the 952 city bus. I had the notebook in my backpack. This wasn’t the route to my school. Because I wanted to go to Lincoln High and take a look. To try. When you’re in absolute despair, no matter how slim the hope is, you’ll do whatever it takes to grab onto it. The words in the notebook were my only hope right now. Before I left home, I slipped a small folding pocket knife into my backpack. Lincoln High wasn’t too far from my school, Washington High. It was the best high school in the county. After getting off the bus, I walked right onto the Lincoln campus. Luckily, we were both high school students, and our styles of dress were similar enough that the security guard didn’t stop me. I fumbled my way through the halls and found senior homeroom 3. “Who are you looking for?” A guy saw me standing outside the classroom door and asked curiously. I gripped the straps of my backpack, keeping my head down, and spoke timidly. “I’m looking for Ryan Hayes.” “Ryan’s not here. Come back another time, little girl!” Saying that, the guy was about to walk into the classroom, but I quickly grabbed him. “Wait… could you tell me where he is? It’s an emergency.” Seeing how anxious I was, the guy hesitated for a moment. “At this hour, I’m guessing Ryan pulled an all-nighter and hasn’t slept yet. Try the diner on Main Street, just outside the school.” Hearing this, I quickly bowed slightly. “Thank you.” The guy immediately took a step back and waved his hands. “Hey, hey, no need for that.” After thanking him, I followed his directions and found the place. There really was a long commercial street behind Lincoln High. It had everything. Walking down the street, looking at the people coming and going, I wanted to turn around and run away countless times. To just come here based on a magical notebook… it was incredibly impulsive. I even wondered if I was losing my mind. But every time I remembered them pulling my hair, dragging me into the boys’ bathroom, those humiliating memories… my heart felt like it was being brutally ripped apart. I was already here… Even if the hope was minuscule, I had to try. I spotted the diner the guy mentioned on the corner. Several students in Lincoln High gear were sitting inside. In the corner sat a guy with dyed blond hair, looking like a total delinquent. I gripped the hem of my shirt and walked up to the group of students. “Excuse me… do you guys know Ryan Hayes?” The students paused. Just then, the delinquent in the corner suddenly looked up, his bloodshot eyes locking onto me. “What do you want with me?” 3 I froze instantly. This guy… wearing a short-sleeved t-shirt, had a tattoo peeking out on his neck, and a scar across the bridge of his nose. Even with what some might consider a disfiguring scar, this guy was still so good-looking it felt unfair. That scar actually just added a rugged, bad-boy edge to his look. But good looks aside. He didn’t look like a student from a top-tier school like Lincoln High at all. Ryan leaned back in his chair, crossed his legs, his expression flippant. Looking at him, he seemed exactly like what teachers would call… a lowlife thug. My first instinct was to turn and leave, but then I remembered the words in the notebook. Would he really help me? “Cat got your tongue?” Ryan took a bite of his food, then glanced up at me. “If you don’t have anything to say, get lost. You’re interrupting my breakfast.” I bit my lip, walked over, and sat down right across from him. Under his scrutinizing gaze, I spoke, trembling. “I-I’ve been getting bullied. Someone told me I could ask you to help me…” “Tch.” Before I could finish, Ryan let out a scoffing laugh. “You’ve got the wrong guy. Asking me for help? What idiot told you to come to me?” “Who at Lincoln High doesn’t know that all I do is bully people?” “Go back and cut ties with whoever told you that. They’re clearly messing with you.” Hearing this, I bit my lip harder, thinking of the words in the notebook. “He said… to tell you one specific phrase, and then you would help me.” “What phrase?” “He told me to tell you: ‘I’m never eating cake again.’” After I said that sentence, Ryan’s motion of eating suddenly stopped dead. Then he looked up, staring at me with icy eyes. I shrank back in fear. Just as I thought Ryan was going to hit me, he suddenly stood up and wiped his hands with a napkin. “Let’s go.” I was stunned. “Go where?” “Didn’t you ask me to help you? I’ll help you kill them, deal?” Ryan looked back at me. My scalp went numb. I frantically waved my hands. “I-I just want you to protect me a little… not kill them…” “Oh.” Ryan nodded, and then raised his right arm. That’s when I noticed he was wearing a watch on his wrist that looked like a woman’s watch. “How do you want me to protect you? Act as your bodyguard, is that it?” Saying that, he suddenly looked back. Backlit by the sun, he broke into a grin. It was a really good-looking grin. I opened my mouth but couldn’t get a single word out. 4 Ryan walked me to the front gate of Washington High. The moment I saw my school, my heart felt like it was being squeezed by a giant hand, hurting so much I couldn’t breathe. “Wait for me. Just half a day.” Ryan ruffled his hair, dropped that sentence, and turned to leave. I gritted my teeth, kept my head down, and walked into the school. The security guard at the gate gave me a look. “Finals are coming up soon. Stop hanging out with those thugs from outside.” I didn’t say anything. In the hallway, every classmate who brushed past me made the hairs on my arms stand up instantly. I was terrified of contact with anyone. When I walked into the classroom, the noise stopped abruptly. Chloe turned to look at me and let out a snort of laughter. “Wow, Maya Price, I thought you wouldn’t dare show your face today!” Her laugh made my body instantly tense up, freezing me in place. Fear flooded my heart. “What are you standing at the door for? Get inside!” My homeroom teacher’s voice came from behind me. I was shoved unexpectedly and stumbled into the classroom. The teacher warned us impatiently. “Finals are right around the corner! Stop wasting time on nonsense all day!” My seat was in the very back row. As soon as I sat down, Chloe turned around. She shot me a dark, chilling glare. I clearly saw her mouth the words. “Don’t leave after school.” She mouthed. … I rubbed the edges of my textbook, watching the time tick by, minute by minute. With every second that passed, my heart sank a little deeper. The nightmare… was coming back. I pulled the notebook out of my backpack, looked at the words on it, and thought of Ryan. Would he really come back? Suddenly, the bell rang. School was out. The homeroom teacher gave one last warning, “Finals are almost here, I hope you all focus on your studies,” and then walked out. Chloe stood up and turned to look at me. Ryan hadn’t come. I thought despairingly. No one was going to protect me. 5 I was cornered against the wall by Chloe. “You little bitch, you told the teacher, didn’t you?” Saying that, she kicked me hard in the stomach, and I collapsed onto the floor. The pain instantly made me break out in a cold sweat. “I… I didn’t tell the teacher.” “Bullshit.” From behind Chloe, Jessica walked over, staring at me coldly. “If you didn’t tell, why did the teacher call me into the office?” “You little bitch, didn’t learn your lesson after we beat you yesterday, did you?” Jessica grabbed me by the hair. From the initial sharp pain to eventual numbness, I kneeled on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. They seemed to really enjoy seeing me with this expression. “Come on, scream louder!” As she spoke, Jessica pulled a black plastic bag out of her backpack. Laughing, she shook it in front of my terrified eyes. A fine, crunching sound came from inside. “Making you kneel yesterday didn’t teach you a lesson, so today, you’re going to eat it.” I instantly realized what was happening. Inside that plastic bag was broken glass. “No!” I scrambled up from the floor and shoved Chloe, who was standing right in front of me, as hard as I could. Then I ran out like a madwoman. “You fucking bitch, you dare push me!” Before I could run out, a tremendous force yanked me from behind, dragging me back into the bathroom. “Run! Go ahead, keep running!” Jessica pried my mouth open, and Chloe opened the plastic bag, ready to pour it in. I squeezed my eyes shut in terror and despair. Praying that time would pass quickly. My body trembled, but the pain I expected never came. “You dare touch my person?” A familiar voice rang out. I instinctively opened my eyes, and through a blur of tears, I saw Ryan. He had dyed his hair back to black, was wearing his school uniform, and had a cigarette dangling from his lips. The next second, he crushed the cigarette butt against the wall. 6 I followed closely behind Ryan. The setting sun stretched his shadow out long. It made my panicked thoughts slowly settle down. My mind kept replaying the scene that just happened. After crushing his cigarette, he kicked Jessica straight into a bathroom stall. They all looked at Ryan in terror, not daring to make a sound. “From now on, don’t touch… what’s your name?” Ryan stopped mid-sentence and looked at me with frustration. I tremblingly said my name, “Maya Price.” “From now on, don’t touch Maya Price, got it?” Chloe and Jessica nodded in terror. Completely stripped of the arrogant cruelty they had shown while tormenting me. I felt a sudden sense of relief in my heart. It turned out they were also cowards who only picked on the weak. Suddenly, Ryan stopped walking in front of me, and I crashed awkwardly into his back. His solid back hit my bruises, making my nose sting with pain. “Watch where you’re going, kid.” Ryan turned around and gave me a helpless look. “Which way is your house?” I covered my nose and whispered, “Just dropping me off here is fine…” To be honest, I was still a bit afraid of Ryan. After all, he didn’t look like someone you’d want to mess with, either. Even Chloe and her gang were terrified of him. I didn’t want to jump out of one fire pit only to land in another. “Tch. Fine.” Ryan turned around and looked at my face. “You ungrateful little thing. Wait here for a few minutes.” After saying that, he turned and walked toward another intersection. I stood there with my backpack, feeling lost. People were coming and going on the long street, and I tried my best to press myself against the wall. “Are you a wallflower? Why are you hiding on the edges?” Ryan, holding a plastic pharmacy bag and breathing slightly heavily, walked over. “I was originally going to go to your house to put medicine on you, but since you’re so scared, we’ll just do it here.” Saying that, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me toward a bench on the street. I nervously tried to pull my hand back. “I-I can do it myself…” “Do it yourself, my ass.” Ryan glared back at me, gripping my wrist, and pressed me down onto the bench. He pulled antiseptic and cotton swabs out of the bag, dabbed one, and leaned in close. I instinctively shrank back, but he grabbed me. “What are you afraid of? I’m not going to hit you.” Ryan leaned in close, applying the medicine to the bleeding corners of my mouth. I swallowed nervously, not daring to move. A faint scent of tobacco drifted into my nose. In the evening sunlight, his long eyelashes cast a shadow under his eyes. “Hiss…” The sting of the antiseptic made me gasp in pain. Ryan furrowed his brows. “Don’t move.” The sunlight fell on him, making him look incredibly handsome. I couldn’t help but stare. “Alright. Don’t get it wet when you go back, and put an ice pack on it.” Ryan casually tossed the cotton swab into a trash can, then handed me the bag of medicine. “Go home.” I stood up numbly and started walking toward my house. After walking for a while, just as I was about to turn the corner, I looked back. He was standing by a telephone pole, lighting a cigarette. The smoke obscured his face. “See you tomorrow!” Ryan seemed to know I was looking at him and waved at me. 7 I got home. My mom was cooking in the kitchen and heard the sound of me opening the door. “You’re back. Dinner will be ready soon, just wait a minute.” I turned my head, hiding my face behind my backpack. “Mom, I have to study. Just leave the food at my door.” “Okay, study hard. Don’t end up like me in the future, working from dawn to dusk…” I ran back to my room and closed the door. The world went quiet. I sat there for two minutes before pulling the notebook out of my backpack. Running my fingers over the pages, I remembered the three words Ryan had said. See you tomorrow. The anxiety in my heart seemed to suddenly smooth out. Opening the notebook, I was surprised to see a new line of text had appeared. [How did it go? Did he protect you?] I immediately picked up my pen and replied: [Thank you. He helped me fight off the people bullying me.] [Heh, that’s good then.] After hesitating for a moment, I still wrote down my question on the paper. [Who exactly are you?] After a while, a line of text materialized on the paper. [Don’t ask for my name. If you absolutely must know, then please call me Batman.] I seriously wrote down two words on the paper. [Thank you, Batman.] Thank you, notebook. Thank you… Ryan. No more writing appeared in the notebook. I opened my books and started doing the homework the teacher had assigned. The next morning, I brought some steamed buns my mom made from home. Not long after I got to school, the bell rang. To my confusion and relief, Chloe didn’t come to school today. The homeroom teacher walked in, put her books on the podium, and clapped her hands on the desk. “We have a new student in our class today. Everyone, please welcome him.” A few scattered claps rang out in the classroom. Obviously, everyone was curious about this. But a bold idea surfaced in my mind. The next second, a guy wearing a backpack and the school uniform walked in. “Introduce yourself,” the homeroom teacher said. The guy lifted his head, scanned the classroom, and then locked eyes with me. Instantly. My heart uncontrollably hammered twice against my ribs. He flashed a rather handsome smile. “My name is Ryan Hayes.” “We meet again.”

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When I found out my childhood sweetheart broke up with me because my family was too poor, I breathed a massive sigh of relief. Thank goodness I was only acting poor. I wasn’t actually poor at all. He had no idea. For years, my mom had made me pretend to be broke because she was worried he would feel insecure. It was exhausting playing pretend. But now, I finally don’t have to fake it anymore. 1 When we were kids playing on the street, my mom made a pact with Liam’s mom that we would get married someday. She thought this little boy was so devastatingly handsome that he absolutely had to be her son-in-law. To make sure I could capture Liam’s heart from a young age… My entire family purposefully moved out of our luxury downtown penthouse and into a rundown apartment complex right next to his house. And naturally, Liam and I grew up as childhood sweethearts. After befriending Liam’s family, my mom gave up her spa days. She stopped playing golf and mahjong. Instead, she spent her days hunting for discounted eggs and clearance vegetables at the local supermarket with Liam’s mom. For the sake of this future son-in-law, she abandoned her glamorous life as a wealthy socialite. I told my dad, “If the internet finds out what a weirdo Mom is being, she’ll get roasted alive.” My dad didn’t say a word. He just silently put away the keys to his Rolls-Royce. He pulled out the keys to his electric scooter to drop me off at school. Whatever. My dad is just like me. He has zero say in this household. I asked my mom once: When could we finally be our true selves in front of Liam? She said puberty is when a person’s ego is the most fragile. If Liam found out how rich we were, what if he developed an inferiority complex? I don’t know if Liam would get an inferiority complex, but I was definitely getting depressed. One night, I couldn’t take it anymore. I burst into their bedroom. And demanded answers: “Is Liam your illegitimate child from an affair?!” “Even if he is, it doesn’t matter! Just let Dad and me move back downtown!” “We are willing to accept this secret child.” As a result, I was treated to a tag-team lecture from both my parents. My butt still hurts. Fine, whatever. I’ll just endure it a little longer. 2 Thankfully, my suffering finally came to an end. The day Liam fell for someone else finally arrived. Today, after school, Liam refused to take the bus home with me. “You know, Chloe, my family’s old property just got bought out by developers.” “Do you know how much the buyout was?” He held up some fingers. “Thirty million dollars.” “From now on, I won’t be taking the bus after school.” “You get what I’m saying, right?” To be honest, I didn’t get it. I replied bluntly: “Okay, then we’ll just take an Uber together from now on!” Liam clicked his tongue in annoyance. “This isn’t about taking an Uber.” “Then what is it about?” Liam’s tone suddenly felt incredibly foreign. “My mom said we’re moving out of the old apartment complex in a few days.” “I’m technically an eight-figure heir now. And you?” “What about me?” Liam sighed. “I originally didn’t want to spell it out for you, but you’re being so dense.” “I think everyone has the right to pursue something better. You can’t stop me from moving toward someone better, right?” “So, Chloe, you understand what I’m saying now?” After all that, I finally understood what Liam meant. He felt that because his family had just come into a massive fortune… I, his girlfriend, was no longer good enough for him. He wanted to break up. To chase after the school’s “It Girl.” “Sure.” He probably thought I would cling to him, but I agreed instantly. Liam looked a bit surprised. I prodded for the gossip: “So, who is this ‘better someone’?” “Sarah Sterling.” “I think right now, she’s the only one whose background matches mine.” Ah, the beautiful, wealthy, and popular queen bee of the school. “Okay.” I pulled out my phone. “I agree to break up with you, but you have to tell my mom yourself.” Liam frowned. “Chloe, we’re practically adults. Is that really necessary?” I was adamant. “If you don’t tell her, she won’t believe it.” He clicked his tongue again. “Fine.” “Breaking up with poor people is such a hassle.” Excuse me?! Poor people? Is he talking about me? When the call connected, my mom sounded thrilled the moment she heard Liam’s voice. “Liam, honey! Do you want to come over for dinner tonight?” “Your mom hasn’t been answering my calls or texts for days. I don’t know what she’s so busy with.” Liam fell silent for two seconds, seemingly feeling a twinge of guilt. “Mrs. Miller, I’m calling today to let you know…” “I think at this stage, we should focus on our studies. We shouldn’t get caught up in romance.” “So Chloe and I have decided to have an amicable breakup.” “What amicable breakup?!” I yelled from the side: “Liam, why aren’t you telling the truth!” “Mom! His family got a buyout! He thinks I’m not good enough for him!” “He wants to break up to chase the school queen bee!” Liam hung up the phone right then and there. “Chloe!” This seemed to be the first time he had ever lost his temper with me. “Couldn’t you just let us keep our dignity?” “Did you really have to leave such a bad impression with your mom?” Me: ???? Are you kidding me? “Whatever. At least it’s all out in the open now.” “Starting tomorrow, I’m officially going to pursue Sarah. Please make it clear to our classmates that we are broken up.” Watching Liam walk away. I suddenly felt a surge of gratitude that my mom made me act poor. Otherwise, how would I have ever seen his true colors? But more importantly… I finally didn’t have to act poor anymore. And I didn’t have to take the bus anymore. 3 Today I splurged and ordered an Uber Black to go home. The moment I walked through the door, my mom frantically interrogated me. “What happened with you and Liam? Did you have a fight?” I sighed, throwing my hands up: “Are you still not getting it? His family got a buyout. He thinks we’re too poor for him now.” My mom refused to believe it: “Impossible. Liam is not that kind of boy.” “Do you think he might have a terminal illness, and he doesn’t want to burden you, so he made up an excuse to break up?” I rolled my eyes: “Read less romance novels, Mom. They’re rotting your brain.” She insisted: “Even if it bankrupts us, we have to pay for his treatment!” Saying that, my mom dragged me out the door. Liam’s house was right across the hall, but we knocked for a long time before they answered. When the door opened, the person standing there was me and my mom. Liam’s mom looked a bit awkward. “Oh, you’re home.” “We agreed to go grab those discounted eggs this afternoon, why didn’t you reply to my texts?” My mom possessed an incredibly thick skull. She completely failed to notice that the other party clearly wanted nothing to do with her. She continued: “Liam called today and said he wants to break up with Chloe.” “I wanted to ask, did something happen?” I don’t know why, but Liam’s mom suddenly turned incredibly mean. “What could have happened? Are you trying to curse my Liam?” “If they broke up, it just means he doesn’t like her anymore. What’s the problem?” She prepared to shut the door, but added one last thing. “By the way, Mrs. Miller.” “I forgot to tell you, our old property was bought out. Thirty million dollars.” “We just bought a brand new Porsche today, and next week we’re moving to the luxury condos next door, the ones that cost five grand a square foot.” “So, whatever happened here, stays here. You don’t need to contact us anymore in the future.” The moment the door slammed shut. I swear I could hear my mom’s heart shatter. She still couldn’t believe she had misjudged them so badly. Until she opened her chat with Liam’s mom… And saw the dreaded red exclamation mark indicating she’d been blocked. That night, she woke me up from a deep sleep. “Chloe, let’s move back downtown.” “The penthouse, the private concierge, the high-end spas… I miss them.” I sprang up from the bed, nodding with profound relief. It wasn’t easy, but my mom had finally woken up. My dad and I had waited for this day for far too long. We drove our Rolls-Royce back to the penthouse that very night. Finally, I don’t have to act poor anymore. My couture clothes, luxury bags, and limited-edition collectibles… You must have missed me. I’m back! 4 The next day, I walked into class wearing a pair of limited-edition designer sneakers. The school’s “It Girl,” Sarah, let out a loud scoff. Everyone around us looked over. “Chloe and Sarah are wearing the same shoes.” “It took me exactly one second to guess who’s wearing the fakes.” “Chloe buys knockoffs? No wonder Liam dumped her. So thirsty for status.” “I heard that when she found out Liam’s family got rich, she clung to him and refused to let go.” “Yesterday she was wearing twenty-dollar canvas shoes, and today she’s wearing two-thousand-dollar sneakers? Who buys that?” Sarah decided to speak up at this point. She put on a fake, understanding smile. “It’s okay. Chloe probably just doesn’t know any better about these things.” I swatted her hand away: “Who the hell doesn’t know better?” Embarrassed by my rejection, Sarah’s expression darkened. But she couldn’t show it, so she just pretended to be a victim. “Why are you being so aggressive?” “If you’re mad because Liam is pursuing me…” “I just won’t say yes to him, okay?” ??? Who was mad about that? Liam swooped in like a superhero protecting his damsel in distress. “Chloe, we’ve known each other for years. Don’t you think I know exactly who you are?” “The only things you know are two-dollar donuts from the street cart and cheap spicy noodles. Since when do you know anything about designer shoes?” Hearing this, the class erupted in laughter. “Last time I saw Chloe arguing with an old lady over fifty cents! Talk about desperate!” “Does she think wearing the same shoes as Sarah makes her a queen bee? Or is she trying to use this trick to win her man back?” “Even if she copies Sarah’s outfits, she’s still just a low-budget knockoff.” Perhaps the thirty million dollars gave him courage. Liam declared he was going to test me. “Since you claim you know shoes…” “What’s the name of the founder of this brand? What month and day is his birthday?” The actual name and model of the shoe got stuck in my throat. You’re not going to ask about the brand or model? You’re asking me for the founder’s birthday?! My face flushed bright red with anger, and before I could even figure out how to curse him out… Liam took my silence as embarrassment from being exposed. “Enough. I know breaking up with me hit you hard.” He pulled a prepaid cafeteria card out of his pocket. “There’s five hundred dollars on this card. It should be enough to cover your meals for the semester.” When I refused to take it, he forced it into my hand. “Don’t pretend. I know you need it.” “Consider it my breakup compensation to you.” I rolled my eyes and threw the card right back at him. When I sat down at my desk, I realized Liam had already switched seats. He moved to sit next to Sarah, using the excuse of helping her study. But his true intentions were obvious to everyone. After Liam moved, no one wanted to sit next to me. But there was a scholarship student in our class. Seeing me looking pathetic, she quietly moved to sit next to me. As she moved, Sarah leaned against her desk and chuckled: “The whole class hates her now. You know exactly what it means to move next to her.” The scholarship student, Maya, still moved next to me. I asked her why. She said she couldn’t stand seeing Liam and Sarah using their money to bully people. Honestly, I felt a little insulted. Because it was still up for debate who was actually using money to bully people. 5 At noon, Maya led me through a maze of hallways to the back kitchen of the cafeteria. When the cafeteria lady saw me, her expression soured. “Maya, I only set aside enough food for one person. Why did you bring someone else?” Maya quickly took the tray from the lady’s hands. “Mom, I don’t eat much. This is enough for the both of us.” “She’s just as pitiful as I am, getting bullied by people. We have to save whatever we can.” Sitting at the table, I looked into Maya’s expectant eyes as she invited me to eat with her. I couldn’t bear to ruin the moment, so I hid the cafeteria card I had just loaded with $10,000 yesterday back into my sleeve. I picked up my chopsticks, convincing myself this was the last time I’d endure this “hardship.” Tomorrow, I’m announcing the $10,000 on my card to the whole world! I had barely taken one bite of food. When a familiar voice rang out. “Chloe, give the card back.” I looked up and saw Sarah’s icy, arrogant face. “What card?” “The cafeteria card Liam gave you today. Don’t be greedy and take things that don’t belong to you.” I had thrown that card right back at him. I never took it. “I didn’t take it.” One of Sarah’s minions knocked over my tray. The chicken leg Maya had just given me fell right onto the floor. “Stop lying. I saw Liam shove the card into your desk with my own eyes.” I was absolutely furious. I stood up, ready to fight them. But the card hidden in my sleeve accidentally slipped out. Sarah’s minion snatched it up immediately. “I told you she took it, and she wouldn’t admit it!” “That’s MY card.” The minion wasn’t listening to a word I said. She took the card and marched straight to the card reader at the window. “Holy sh*t!” Before I had time to stop her, a piercing scream echoed from the window. “Why is there so much money on this card?” The minion looked at Sarah. “Didn’t Liam say he only gave her $500?” “Why does this say… $10,000?” The expression on Sarah’s face was a sight to behold. She seemed unable to believe Liam would be so generous to me. She snatched the card back and stormed off, fuming. I didn’t chase after her. Because with $10,000, I could easily file a police report. After the two of them left, Maya was still sighing over the chicken leg on the floor. I pulled her up from the floor, went to the window, bought two massive chicken legs with cash, and shoved them into her mouth. “Eat up, drink up, and don’t let this bother you.” Maya chewed happily. While asking me: “Your ex-boyfriend put $10,000 on that card for you. He’s actually pretty generous.” Me: … Oh, you sweet summer child. 6 When my dad pulled up in the Rolls-Royce to pick me up after school. Liam blocked my path. “What did you say to Sarah in the cafeteria?” “When she got back, she threw the cafeteria card at me and hasn’t spoken to me since.” “She just accepted my confession yesterday, and today you’re trying to ruin things between us?” I was busy texting my dad, telling him I had some personal business to handle. And to wait for me at the gate. “Chloe, I’m talking to you.” “Please show some respect.” Annoyed, I put my phone away, pulled my cafeteria card out of my pocket, and swapped it with him. “The card Sarah gave you is mine.” “I told you I didn’t want your card, but you forced it on me.” Liam clicked his tongue. “I’m asking you why Sarah is mad at me.” “I’m not here to discuss cafeteria cards with you.” ??? How the hell would I know why Sarah is mad at him? Your girlfriend is mad at you, and instead of asking her, you come ask your ex? Does that make any sense? What a coincidence. His moody girlfriend happened to walk right past us. She purposefully bumped her shoulder hard against mine. “You little b…” The curse word was right on the tip of my tongue. But Sarah apologized first. “Sorry, didn’t see you there.” She tried to walk away, but Liam grabbed her. “Baby, please don’t be mad.” “I really have absolutely no lingering feelings for Chloe.” “Actually, I never felt anything for her at all.” “When we were together before, it was entirely her mom being relentless. I didn’t like her one bit.” “Plus, my family got a buyout now. Families like ours are a perfect match.” Finally, he said what was really on his mind. I really wanted to record his pathetic face and show it to my mom. Sarah was still throwing a fit: “If you dislike her so much, why did you give her a $10,000 breakup fee?” “What $10,000 breakup fee?” Liam looked completely bewildered. My dad started rushing me via text. He said his car was too flashy, and a huge crowd had already gathered at the school gates. He has social anxiety, so he told me to hurry up and get in the car. Too lazy to watch their soapy teen drama. I cursed Liam out, then ran out the gate and got into the car. On the way home, my dad was asking me which high-end restaurant I wanted to eat at. When I received a message from Maya with a link to a forum post. “Chloe, someone posted on the school confession board saying you have a sugar daddy.” I don’t know who was paying so much attention to me. It hadn’t even been five minutes since I got in the car. But photos of me getting into the Rolls-Royce were already posted online. A lot of people were commenting below. “The guy in the car looks pretty old. Chloe really has no standards, huh?” “Her ex-boyfriend got rich and dumped her, so her ego couldn’t handle it, and she found a rich old sugar daddy.” “And she had him pick her up in a Rolls-Royce at the school gates so deliberately. Is being a sugar baby something to be proud of?” “Liam and Sarah are such a perfect match. Chloe’s sugar daddy probably smells like mothballs.” Maya asked me: “Chloe, is this really your boyfriend?” “THAT IS MY DAD!!!” After finding out it was my dad, Maya immediately started defending me in the comments. “Stop spreading rumors. That is Chloe’s dad’s car.” Many people started attacking her too. “Two broke losers lying through their teeth.” “I’ve seen Chloe’s dad before. He always drops her off on an electric scooter. How could he possibly drive a Rolls?” “Maybe her dad became a chauffeur and took his boss’s car out to show off.” Hearing my sigh, my dad turned and asked what was wrong. I held up my phone to show him: “Dad, they’re saying you’re my sugar daddy.” My dad: ???? “Kid, are they speaking English?” 7 After I told my mom what happened at school today… She was absolutely furious. She hated herself for being blind, for taking over a decade to realize what kind of trash her future son-in-law really was. My dad chimed in from the side, commenting that her taste in men was terrible. I poked him. “Dad, are you saying you’re terrible?” My dad gave me a look that said you talk too much. Our whole family gathered around, discussing how to exact sweet, sweet revenge. My mom said: “Yesterday, I completely revamped my Facebook profile.” “I tried to add Liam’s mom back as a friend so I could show off.” “And guess what?” “She still hasn’t accepted my request.” “I’m so pissed!” My dad said: “Why don’t we donate a new building to the school? It’s low-key but still flexes our wealth.” I shot down his idea: “By the time the building is finished, I’ll have graduated.” “Revenge needs to happen right now. We can’t wait!” They both looked at me: “So, how are you planning to handle this?” I hadn’t actually figured it out yet. As the three of us sank into deep thought… A message popped up in the class group chat. It was sent by Sarah. “This Saturday is my birthday. I’m inviting everyone to my house to celebrate!” She dropped her home address. I looked closely at it, my eyes suddenly widening. Isn’t that my apartment complex? Does Sarah live there too? Oh. It makes sense that I’ve never run into her. Since I was a kid, my mom stripped me of my right to live there. I had been living in that rundown apartment next to Liam’s this whole time. Sarah posted another picture of her living room. I stared at the picture, looking at it over and over again. Huh? Why does it look so familiar? I looked up. Isn’t this MY house? I looked up and asked my dad: “Is Sarah your illegitimate daughter?” My dad looked completely lost. “Who is Sarah?” My mom almost slapped him across the face. “Did you have an affair?” I explained it to them: “Sarah is Liam’s new girlfriend.” I showed them the message she sent. “Why does her house look exactly like ours?” My brain fought with itself for a moment, then I pointed at my parents. “Which one of you had the affair?!” My mom suddenly remembered something and pulled us close, lowering her voice. “I just noticed a weird coincidence.” “What?” “Today, our housekeeper, Maria, told me she booked a deep cleaning service for this Saturday.” “She told us to go out and have fun for the whole day.” I asked my mom: “And you agreed?” She nodded. The truth was practically screaming at us. No wonder when I was living in that rundown apartment… I always thought the clothes Sarah wore and the jewelry she had looked somewhat familiar. But since my family moved back yesterday… She stopped wearing designer brands and switched back to her school uniform. Except for those limited-edition sneakers. “Mom,” I pointed at the shoes I wore today sitting by the door. “How many pairs of this shoe did you have your personal shopper buy for me?” My mom thought for a moment. “Two pairs.” “One is autographed, the other isn’t.” I immediately asked my mom to verify this with the housekeeping agency. The results confirmed our suspicions. Therefore. Sarah is not a rich girl. She is the daughter of our housekeeper, Maria. Maria was the housekeeper my mom hired right after I was born. During the dozen years my mom followed Liam’s family away… She was the one managing the penthouse. I had only seen her when I was very little. When we occasionally visited for the holidays, I had never run into her daughter. I never expected that during the time we were away… Maria and her daughter, Sarah, had actually moved into our home. No wonder Sarah and Liam hit it off so well. They’re exactly the same type of people. You wanted to kick our family out so you could host a birthday party in our penthouse, right? Well, let’s see how you manage the fallout from this one. After finalizing a plan with my parents. I started sucking up to Sarah in the group chat. “I’ve never seen such a huge house in my life~ Can I come?” Some classmates mocked me: “Didn’t you say the guy driving the Rolls-Royce was your dad? How have you never seen a big house downtown?” “Maya was defending her today, saying that old man wasn’t a sugar daddy. If you did it, just admit it!” “Like this kind of vain girl, Liam broke up with her, they’re over.” “If you’re coming to the birthday party, you have to bring a gift. Don’t show up empty-handed.” … Sarah ignored me for a long time. It wasn’t until everyone finished insulting me and no new messages appeared in the chat. She @’d me: “Sure. It’s fine if Chloe doesn’t bring a gift.” Still expecting me to bring a gift. I’ll bring her two massive slaps across the face. One for the left cheek, one for the right.

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On the eve of our long-awaited graduation trip to the Pacific Northwest, a trip we had planned for three years, he secretly changed everyone’s flights to a hot spring resort that the popular girl at school wanted to visit. A friend teased him: “What about your little trip planner? You’re just going to leave her to go to the PNW all alone?” “She clings to me so tightly, she’d probably cry if we were apart.” My childhood friend paused for a moment before answering carelessly: “It’s fine. She has the password to my itinerary doc. She checks it nervously every day. Once she realizes I changed the plans, she’ll just buy a ticket and follow us.” I didn’t question him, and I didn’t argue. I just quietly left. I didn’t change his itinerary document, and I didn’t change my intended destination. I only changed one thing—I changed my college commitment to a university 2,000 miles away from him. He wanted to enjoy the comfort of the hot springs with the popular girl, and I had my own mountains I wanted to conquer. That adventure map, revised through countless days and nights, was no longer just for him. 1 On the night before our trip to the Pacific Northwest, I noticed an edit history on Liam’s itinerary document. When I opened it, I realized the destination had been changed to a hot spring resort in a nearby state. Based on the profile picture of the person who made the edit, it was Chloe. Holding my tablet, I walked to the door of Liam’s room to confirm with him, but the conversation I overheard stopped me dead in my tracks. He knew perfectly well how much I wanted to hike the PNW trails. During our freshman year of high school, I told Liam my dream was to see the towering mountains and conquer the rugged, dirt trails before I turned eighteen. Back then, Liam firmly promised me that the day we graduated high school, he would help me fulfill that wish. For this trip, he watched me stay up countless nights, creating numerous versions of the route map, yet now, the day before we were supposed to leave, he had changed his mind at the last minute. The conversation in the room continued: “Aren’t you worried Maya will be mad?” “It’s just a trip. We’ll have plenty of opportunities in the future. It’s rare for Chloe to ask for something; how could I say no to her?” Rare to ask for something? Liam and I grew up together. During freshman year, he secretly kissed my cheek and told me he had a surprise for me after graduation. But ever since Chloe transferred to our school in sophomore year, everything changed. On my birthday, Chloe said she wanted to go to the beach, so Liam missed my birthday party. During the week of my birthday, I bought myself a small cake. Chloe saw it and said she wanted to eat it, and Liam gave it to her without even asking me. Right before our finals, Chloe said she forgot her pencil case. Liam forcefully took my backpack, leaving me to scramble and beg for help from a teacher on the other side of the school just thirty minutes before the exam started. Afterward, he brushed it off, saying it was no big deal and that he would make it up to me later. “…I guess you’re right. A girl as pretty as Chloe, from such a good family, who could resist when she acts cute? Of course you’d agree to anything.” “Only a tomboy like Maya, dark and plain, would want to go hiking from dawn to dusk.” Finally, Liam let out a mocking laugh, summarizing their entire conversation: “She’s just a clingy follower. No matter how much she cries, she’ll always chase after me. I can’t shake her off; it’s so annoying.” Laughter echoed from the room. I touched the wall, my heart feeling like it had plunged into an ice box. 2 In a daze, I returned to my room. The computer still displayed the itinerary document I had just opened. My roommate, Harper, noticed my pale face and immediately asked what was wrong. Fighting back tears, I didn’t mention eavesdropping. I just casually said the itinerary might change tomorrow. Harper, unaware of the backstory, leaned over to look at the computer. She realized that, except for me, even her flight had been changed. She immediately got angry: “Who told them to touch our itinerary! If they want to go to the hot springs, they can go themselves! Why drag me into it? I don’t even want to go!” She was about to go yell at Liam, but I pulled her hand, and the tears I’d been holding back finally fell. Harper then realized that my itinerary hadn’t been changed. To make it easier to catch our flight tomorrow, we were all staying at a hotel near the airport. After they changed their tickets, their departure time was nearly two hours earlier than what I had originally booked. If I hadn’t discovered this now, I would have woken up tomorrow to find everyone gone, leaving me alone in the hotel. They might not have even answered my calls. Thinking of this, my heart ached fiercely. “Damn Liam, what a complete idiot!” Harper grew even angrier. “Who took him in when he had nowhere to go! What an ungrateful jerk!” Liam and I had been neighbors since childhood. His mother passed away early, and his father worked incredibly hard to raise him, but was diagnosed with cancer during our freshman year of high school. During that time, Liam was busy with finals and taking care of his dad at the hospital every day. I couldn’t bear to see him struggle, so I went to the hospital with him every day, hoping to help even a little. Later, when Liam’s dad was gravely ill, he took my hand while Liam was out of the room and begged me to take care of Liam. Because my heart ached for Liam, and out of a vague sense of affection, I hastily agreed. After Liam’s dad passed away, I explained the situation to my parents. After begging them for days, they agreed to let Liam live with us, treating him like half a son. I had always been timid and lacked initiative. After Liam moved in, I stuck close to him, like a little shadow. My parents even joked that I had found myself a good older brother. Tears streamed down my face. I couldn’t understand how the Liam who had held me and cried after his father’s death had changed so much. After moving into my house, he held my hand, blushing as he thanked me, earnestly telling me, “Maya, you are the best person in the world to me. As long as you’re here, I feel safe.” How did that Liam turn into this? How could he mock me so expressionlessly in front of others, as if simply mentioning me was a form of humiliation? After closing the itinerary document, my hands trembled as I reopened my college commitment form. Because of the promise I made to Liam’s dying father, I agreed that as long as Liam needed me, I would always be there for him. Because of this, even though my grades were significantly higher than Liam’s, I voluntarily chose to attend the same in-state university as him. But perhaps I was wrong. Liam actually didn’t need me anymore. Since that was the case, why should I keep clinging to him? After confirming three times, I clicked ‘submit’, changing my commitment to a university 2,000 miles away on the East Coast. Harper watched my actions, slowly sighed, and then patted my head. I didn’t book a new flight, nor did I go knock on the door to confront them about the itinerary. Hiking in the PNW was my dream; my persistence regarding this trip was never for Liam. I wanted to challenge myself, to see the magnificent scenery with my own eyes, to complete an adventure independently, to break free from the timid and cowardly person I used to be. Liam could give up our promise for Chloe, and I could choose to move forward on my own, relying on no one. This time, I wouldn’t compromise for Liam anymore. 3 The next day, I purposely woke up early. Before Liam and the others were up, I stood at the hotel entrance with my luggage, along with Harper. Liam was initially looking around the hotel entrance with a hint of nervousness. When he saw me come out early, his nervous expression was instantly replaced by smugness. Liam cleared his throat and said seriously: “Just to let everyone know, Chloe hasn’t been feeling well these past few days, and the weather forecast says there might be light rain, making hiking risky. So, for this graduation trip, we’re changing our route to a hot spring resort to relax for a couple of days.” Chloe stood behind Liam, tugged at his sleeve, and said somewhat sheepishly: “Sorry, Maya, for making you give up your plans to come to the hot springs with me. I just coughed a couple of times; Liam is just being too anxious.” Chris immediately chimed in: “Chloe, you’re too nice. The point of a trip is to have fun. Why should everyone have to accommodate one person? That would be too dictatorial.” I spent so much effort planning the itinerary, coordinating everyone’s schedules, spending both money and energy, and in the end, without saying a word, I became the one with a bad temper and dictatorial tendencies? I laughed in exasperation, looked Liam straight in the eye, tried to keep my voice calm, and said: “The itinerary was set long ago, and you’re changing the core part just like that? Sorry, my plans aren’t changing. I’m going hiking and camping.” Perhaps this was the first time in all these years I had held a dissenting opinion against Liam. He frowned at me, looking visibly displeased: “You alone? Are you kidding? It’s too dangerous! We changed the tickets, and you saw the itinerary doc. It’s not hard to adjust. Besides, we can go to the PNW anytime. At worst, I’ll go with you next time…” I interrupted him, my tone unusually calm: “I made the itinerary; even if I go alone, it won’t be dangerous. You can give up the adventure for your friends, but I won’t. I have scenery I want to see for myself. Chris, Harper, you choose: go to the PNW with me, or go to the hot springs with them.” Seeing my rare cold expression, Harper immediately stood by my side. Chris snorted, slowly moved over to their side, and shot me a provocative look. Only Liam’s face turned livid: “Maya, do you have to be so stubborn? Are you trying to make everyone unhappy?” I smiled, stopped looking at him, took Harper’s hand, and turned to leave: “Unhappy? I’m quite happy. Worry about yourself.” Behind me, Liam’s look of disbelief followed, as if he hadn’t expected me to just turn and walk away. He shouted: “Maya, don’t regret this! When the time comes and you beg me, I won’t care!” Harper, being pulled along by me, couldn’t help but complain: “Is he a child?” 4 On the plane, Harper and I reviewed the plan again. After landing, we contacted the hiking group we had booked earlier, informing them that our group of five had been reduced to two. After arriving at the trailhead and renting our gear, Harper and I officially set off. Although the sun was strong and the wind was fierce, because we had prepared well, neither of us was defeated by the journey. Instead, the further we walked, the more excited we became. Under the reflection of the landscape, I suddenly realized how insignificant my personal troubles were. The thoughts that weren’t firm in the past now became increasingly resolute. Looking at the beautiful scenery along the way, I began to feel grateful. Thank goodness I didn’t compromise and go to the hot spring village this time, but firmly chose the place I wanted to go. Harper and I tacitly avoided mentioning Liam and his group. We excitedly looked at the travel guide together, checking off every scenic spot we passed. During the trip, Liam called me several times. I calculated the time; he probably called after his flight landed and they had settled in. It was highly likely he was going to try to reconcile. Liam was always like this: a slap in the face followed by a piece of candy. Although he was very impatient with me internally, he always expressed care and gentleness afterward. I often found myself in endless internal conflict because of his soft words and concern afterward. I kept wondering if he was just acting tough, if he actually liked me deep down but didn’t know how to say it. But at this moment, I suddenly understood. There’s no such thing as acting tough while being soft-hearted. From the moment he acted tough, I should have drawn a clear line with him. As for why Liam treated me this way, perhaps he just didn’t want to lose a “clingy follower” like me, someone who would always follow him. The phone ringing annoyed me. Thinking that I had already called my parents in the morning and there was no one else I needed to contact, I simply put my phone in airplane mode, focusing entirely on taking photos and videos with Harper. By evening, Harper and I reached the entrance of the gorge, took out the supplies from our backpacks, and set up a simple camp. As night fell, the temperature dropped rapidly. After putting on the thick jackets we brought, the stars began to appear one by one. In no time, the night sky was a continuous expanse, majestic yet solitary. Unable to reach me, Liam called Harper instead. Harper was changing clothes and just put him on speakerphone. Liam’s voice came clearly through the phone: “Where’s Maya? Why isn’t her phone connecting? Where are you guys, have you settled in? Tell her to stop being petty. The environment here at the hot springs is great. Hurry up and buy a ticket to come over; we saved a room for you.” Harper scoffed, said “Screw off,” and decisively hung up the phone. We looked at each other and smiled. Looking at the beautiful starry sky, a surge of unprecedented strength welled up from the bottom of my heart. 5 The first day of hiking was tough but surprisingly smooth. As the sky grew darker, we met many other hikers at the campsite. After exchanging experiences, Harper and I replanned our itinerary for tomorrow. After Harper hung up, Liam kept calling persistently. After interrupting our conversation with the other hikers several times, Harper finally answered the phone with a dark expression: “What do you want? Are you done yet?” Liam’s tone was anxious as he asked: “Where exactly are you guys? Maya’s phone still isn’t connecting. Are you safe right now?” Sure enough, it was just as I thought. This was Liam’s usual tactic. If it were the old me, no matter how bad my temper was, I would have felt incredibly guilty after hearing those two sentences. Then, without any bottom line, I would go beg Liam for peace. I took Harper’s phone and pressed the speakerphone button: “We’re traveling. Your constant calls are very annoying.” Liam choked for a moment, but laughed after hearing my words: “Still angry? I wanted to tell you about going to the hot springs yesterday. Wasn’t I trying to give you a surprise? What’s so fun about a bare desert? We can soak in hot springs here and eat lots of delicious food.” “I forgot to tell you yesterday. Stop being angry. Be good. If you keep this up, no one will want to deal with you.” I listened expressionlessly to Liam’s words. He probably thought I was angry just because he decided to go to the hot springs without telling me. He thought that since he was groveling to coax me, this matter should just be dropped. I was just about to sarcastically reply when Chloe’s voice suddenly came through: “Yeah, Maya, don’t be mad. You’ve been mad all day, and Liam’s mood has been terrible.” Hearing her deliberately sweet voice, I frowned. I suddenly felt that answering the phone wasn’t a good idea; it ruined my good mood. “It’s all my fault… Maya, if you’re mad, be mad at me, don’t be mad at Liam anymore. Hurry up and buy a ticket to come over; at worst, I’ll apologize to you.” “Maya, didn’t you hear Chloe is about to cry? You need to change that terrible temper of yours; besides me, who else can stand you? I don’t care, you book a ticket to come over tomorrow, and then properly apologize to Chloe. Don’t ruin everyone’s fun just because of yourself.” “Shut your mouths, both of you. I can smell the stench through the phone.” I sneered: “I’ll play my way, you play yours. You still want me to apologize to you? How shameless.” Liam was silent for a long time, then warned dissatisfiedly: “Maya, don’t push it too far.” I hung up the phone without hesitation. 6 A campfire was lit in the camp, and Harper and I shared our dry rations, occasionally receiving some snacks from other tents. Harper chewed on beef jerky next to me, cursing Liam for being a jerk. I was originally angry, but suddenly slowly calmed down. “That bastard, you were so good to him for nothing, he’s just an ungrateful jerk! A wicked guy!” I was amused by Harper’s indignant appearance, and a wave of warmth flowed through my heart. Looking at the dancing campfire in front of me, I said softly: “It’s because I always stayed in the [comfort zone] he drew for me, making Liam feel that I couldn’t leave him and would always follow him.” I sighed, the galaxy above my head becoming even more beautiful. “Only after taking this trip today did I realize that even without Liam, the sky won’t fall. What I liked was the Liam who worked hard with me and looked forward to the future and adventure… perhaps not anymore.” Harper looked at me with some confusion. “What I liked might have just been that beautiful emotion representing youth.” Harper smiled, patted my back, and shouted: “Then today, let’s make a clean break with our youth!” I smiled too, and shouted loudly: “Yes! A clean break with youth!” 7 After successfully completing the hike and camping, Harper and I safely returned to the town and received our “Gorge Hiking Certification” certificates. Both Harper and I had tanned quite a bit, but we looked radiant, as if we had been completely transformed, without the lifeless fatigue from school. The moment we got the certificates, we immediately posted photos holding them on our social media, with the caption: Our own adventure, priceless! Before long, friends started leaving comments under the post. “Maya is so cool!” “Weren’t you going on a trip with Liam? Why is it just you and Harper?” “Stop talking nonsense, Liam went to the hot springs with the school beauty, he just posted on his story.” When I exited those comments, I happened to see the story Chloe had just posted. An exquisite nine-grid photo of hot spring beauties and high-end Japanese dinners. In the corner of a photo, Liam looked to be smiling somewhat forcedly. I had no heart to care about these things anymore, and casually closed the social media app. It was then that I realized that during the days my phone was in airplane mode, I had received many missed calls from Liam. In my messages, there were also many messages from him. I glanced at them casually. The last message he wrote was still a plea for reconciliation: Maya, when school starts, let’s go to campus together. I didn’t reply; my mood was complex but calm. The journey was over, and some relationships should also come to an end. 8 After resting at home for two days, Harper sent me the photos and videos she had taken before. I added my own experiences and guides from this trip, carefully edited the video, and posted it on a social media platform. I didn’t expect this video to actually gain some traction. Countless people asked for travel guides in the comments, so I simply created a small group and detailed all the guides, maps, and unexpected pitfalls from this trip, hoping to help people who wanted to hike in the PNW like me. After finishing all this, Harper sent me a screenshot of Chloe’s social media post. Since returning, I had deleted both her and Liam. In the post, there was a clearly intimate photo in a hot spring hotel room. Liam’s back in a bathrobe was in the front, and Chloe was holding his hand from behind. The caption: “The hand I grabbed when I was lost is exceptionally warm. Thank you for being there. /Love.” Below were many comments from mutual friends. “The school beauty is making it official, congratulations.” “Look at this background, a hot spring hotel suite, tsk tsk.” Chris was also jumping around in the comments: “Oh my, going out with the young couple, almost blinded my eyes.” Chloe replied to Chris with a shy emoji. Seeing this post, my heart, which I thought had already calmed down, still ached uncontrollably. Until the last ripple also returned to calm, I finally thought self-deprecatingly in my heart: so he was “worrying” about me on one hand, and could “warm” someone else on the other. After turning off the screen, I forced myself not to look at social media anymore, nor to think about the matters between the two of them. Such self-suggestion was indeed quite effective. I was just spacing out when the phone suddenly rang. It was the tour leader of the travel group we met during the gorge hike. As soon as he answered the phone, he said happily: “Maya, do you still remember me? I saw your video a couple of days ago. Our outdoor club is currently recruiting summer youth explorers, responsible for short-route guide assistance and logistics planning. I saw your guides were solid and your adaptability is good. Are you interested in giving it a try?” He added: “Room and board included, there’s a subsidy, and you can travel with the group for free.” My heart instantly pounded; this was simply a pie falling from the sky! It was a direct affirmation of my abilities! I agreed without hesitation. 9 The next day, as I was packing my luggage preparing to leave, the doorbell suddenly rang. Liam stood outside the door holding my formerly favorite dessert from a bakery, dark circles under his eyes, his tone carrying a deliberate ingratiation: “Maya, you came back and didn’t even tell me? Over at the hot springs… actually, I wanted you to relax. The trip, I didn’t think it through. There’s still more than half of the summer break left. How about I go with you again?” He tried to come over and ruffle my hair like before. I calmly dodged him and said: “No need.” “Or do you want to go to the beach? I’ve checked the flights and hotels, and I’ve prepared for you…” “Not going.” I interrupted him directly. Liam’s face darkened again: “Maya, I’ve given you enough of a way out. How long are you going to be angry? How did you become so petty!” I answered calmly: “I’m not angry, and I don’t want to go out and play with you.” Liam slammed the cake onto the table next to him and said angrily: “Go or don’t go! When you get to college, I won’t help you move your luggage. Crying and begging me then won’t help!” Liam slammed the door and left. I threw the dessert he brought into the trash and continued organizing my luggage. After joining the outdoor club in the mountains, my daily life became busy and fulfilling. Learning wilderness skills, planning routes, assisting in leading groups… Working in magnificent and diverse landscapes wearing professional gear. When I had free time, I posted photos and videos of leading groups on social platforms, which smoothly gained me a batch of followers. Harper, never one to shy away from excitement, would follow me to lead groups when she had nothing to do, conveniently getting a free short trip out of it. Then she would post photos of me working side-by-side with the mountain scenery on social media, adding the photos we took in the PNW before, and intentionally captioning it: “The continuation of fate, the goddess just has chemistry with everyone~/eating popcorn.” That night, Liam used a new number to bombard my phone again. After connecting, his voice was hoarse, sounding with a hint of hidden rage: “Maya, what do you mean? We’ve only been apart for a few days? Who is that guy! Are you so eager to find a replacement? The hike was also planned by you and him long ago, wasn’t it? You just deliberately ditched me!” I was so angered by his absurd accusations that I laughed, saying coldly: “Liam, put away your filthy thoughts. I’m working normally. Furthermore, even if something happened between me and someone else, it’s none of your business. My life has had nothing to do with you for a long time.” After speaking, I hung up the phone directly and blocked this new number of his as well.

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While on a business trip, I couldn’t sleep. I was scrolling through Reddit in my hotel room when I stumbled upon a bizarre post on a true-crime forum: [Billionaire Secrets Exposed: On July 30, 2025, at 10:30 PM, the sole heiress of W Enterprises was brutally decapitated while on a business trip in Chicago. Her head was hidden in the mini-fridge. The killer was the late billionaire’s illegitimate son, who disguised himself as a delivery driver to infiltrate her room.] I stared at the title, slightly stunned. I am the sole daughter of W Enterprises. I am currently on a business trip in Chicago. But my dad doesn’t have an illegitimate son. And more importantly, today is July 30th, but it’s only 10:00 PM right now. Why was the algorithm feeding me breaking news about a murder that wouldn’t happen for another half hour? I brushed it off as a sick prank by some internet troll. But then, feeling thirsty, I walked over to the mini-fridge to grab a sparkling water. I froze. The interior of this hotel fridge was completely identical to the crime scene photo attached to the post. And the exact spot where the severed head was placed in the photo… was perfectly empty in my fridge right now. At that exact moment, the doorbell rang. “Hello, UberEats delivery.” 01 My heart skipped a beat. The very next second, I dialed my private security detail. First of all, I haven’t ordered food delivery in years. For privacy during business trips, I exclusively book Presidential Suites and only eat the meals prepared by the hotel’s private chef. Even if I did order room service, it would be brought up by the hotel staff. A random delivery driver would never be allowed up here. My mind flashed back to that Reddit post. As absurd as it seemed, the people, the events, and the objects in that thread matched my current reality flawlessly. Was this a genuine premonition of my death? When I didn’t open the door, the person outside started pounding on it heavily. Bang! Bang! Bang! “Hello, delivery! Please come out and get your food!” The voice was raspy and rough, sounding like a middle-aged man. Recalling the post—which stated the heiress was killed by her father’s illegitimate son—I let out a tiny sigh of relief. The guy outside sounded like he was practically my dad’s age. How could he be his son? Thankfully, my security team was stationed in standard suites just a few floors below. It would only take them a couple of minutes to get up here. Thinking of this, my tense nerves relaxed slightly. Listening to the incessant knocking, a morbid curiosity crept into my mind. I softened my footsteps and moved silently toward the heavy security door. But the second I got close, the knocking abruptly stopped. The hallway was dead silent. I held my breath and carefully pressed my eye against the peephole. There was no one there. Just an empty, dimly lit corridor. But the next second— BANG! BANG! Two deafening strikes hit the door! And then! A face shot up from below, instantly filling the entire field of vision of the peephole! The face was wrinkled, the skin gleaming with a greasy sheen. A thick double chin squeezed against the high collar of a delivery uniform. A pair of cloudy, bloodshot eyes stared dead at me through the glass. His mouth curled upward, agonizingly slow and stiff, stretching into a grotesque, exaggerated smile. Bang! Bang! Two more heavy knocks. It was as if he knew I was standing right behind the door. He slammed his thick, meaty palm against the wood with all his might! The sound was so terrifyingly close that I stumbled backward, nearly collapsing onto the floor. Just as I thought he was going to break the door down, a completely different voice came from outside. Unlike the violent banging, this voice was deliberately lowered and soft: “Hello, delivery… I’ll just leave it at the door for you.” Soon after, the sound of footsteps echoed. Step, step, step… Moving further away until they completely disappeared at the end of the hall. Did he really just leave? Not long after the footsteps faded, my security team finally arrived. Seeing the row of muscular men in black suits lining the hotel corridor, I finally let out a massive breath of relief. But I was still furious. How could the security of a five-star hotel’s Presidential Suite be this garbage? Any random creep could just wander up here. I immediately called the front desk to demand answers. After checking the security footage, the receptionist sounded baffled. “Ma’am… first, I am so incredibly sorry for this experience. But we have thoroughly reviewed the footage from the past thirty minutes. The elevators, the hallway corridors, the fire escapes… there is no record of anyone wearing a delivery uniform entering the Presidential floor! The only people captured by the cameras were your bodyguards arriving just now. The corridor cameras didn’t catch anyone suspicious going up or down…” The receptionist paused, a slight tremor in her voice. “And… there’s no footage of the ‘delivery driver’ you described leaving the floor, either.” Buzz— A rush of ice-cold dread shot from the soles of my feet straight to my brain. No footage? No one went up, and no one went down? That meant the “delivery driver” had been hiding on this floor from the very beginning! A deep sense of unease settled in my gut, and without hesitation, I called the police. Looking at the group of bodyguards standing outside my door, I felt slightly reassured. I had handpicked every single one of them. They were all decorated martial arts and combat champions. At the very least, until the police arrived, I was absolutely safe. After all that panic, I was covered in a thin layer of cold sweat, so I went into the bathroom to wash up again. When I finished, I sat on the sofa to wait for the cops. Out of habit, I unlocked my phone. That bizarre Reddit post was sitting at the very top of my feed again. This time, I didn’t treat it like a prank. I began to read it meticulously. But when I saw the timestamp of the post, my mind went blank. July 30, 2035. 10:45 PM. Ten years from now?! How is that possible?! I quickly backed out and checked the other posts on my feed. Everything else had today’s normal date. But when I refreshed the page for that specific post, the timestamp remained 2035. Which meant, exactly ten years from today, this post was analyzing a murder that was going to happen tonight at 10:30 PM. I read through the entire true-crime breakdown and discovered that the murder wasn’t solved until a decade later. For ten years, no one knew the billionaire heiress was killed by her illegitimate half-brother. During that decade, the illegitimate son inherited the corporate empire, liquidated the company and all its assets for cash, and quietly fled the country. The police still hadn’t found his hiding spot. As for my mother, the billionaire’s legal wife—after losing her only child, the illegitimate son gaslit her into a psychiatric hospital, claiming she had gone insane from grief. She committed suicide six months later. A sickening, overwhelming sense of dread rose in my chest. My thumb instinctively scrolled down to the comment section. When I read the top comments, my heart seized: “OP got it wrong. The illegitimate son didn’t disguise himself as a delivery driver to kill her. He hired a guy to be the delivery driver, but when the cops finally solved the case years later, they realized the driver was just a decoy.” “Yeah, the victim was a billionaire heiress in a Presidential Suite with her own security team. A random delivery guy couldn’t have pulled that off.” “Exactly. The real killer was hiding inside her hotel room the whole time.” “Hiding inside her hotel room…” Hiding inside her hotel room! Those words drained every ounce of warmth and strength from my body. An unprecedented, bone-chilling terror swept over me, soaking my silk pajamas in a cold sweat. Acting on pure instinct, my eyes darted to the clock in the top right corner of my phone screen— 10:29 PM. The murder in the post happened at 10:30 PM. The moment that thought crossed my mind, before I could even react— THUD! A heavy, sickeningly blunt impact struck the back of my skull without warning! Warm, thick liquid carrying the heavy stench of iron burst forth, blurring my vision and running wildly down my cheeks and neck. Then, I felt the icy edge of a blade slicing into my throat. I used the last remaining shred of my consciousness and strength to turn my head, desperate to see the face behind me. But a hand, gripping like an iron vice, clamped down on my head, covering my nose and mouth. So the post was real. The person in the thread really was me. I collapsed into a pool of my own blood. Despite my overwhelming unwillingness to die, I could only helplessly close my eyes. 02 When I opened my eyes again, I found myself lying perfectly fine on the hotel bed. The phantom pain lingered on my head and neck, but when I reached up to touch them, there wasn’t a single drop of blood. My eyes fell on the phone clutched in my hand. The screen was still stuck on that bizarre Reddit post. The title was identical: [Billionaire Secrets Exposed: On July 30, 2025, at 10:30 PM, the sole heiress of W Enterprises was brutally decapitated while on a business trip in Chicago. Her head was hidden in the mini-fridge. The killer was the late billionaire’s illegitimate son, who disguised himself as a delivery driver.] The time on my phone read exactly 10:00 PM. I had looped! I went back to half an hour before my murder! I looked around the room nervously. The killer was hiding in my room right now. I forced myself to stay calm. Knowing the killer was inside, I chose a less conspicuous method this time. I texted my security team to come up, and then I texted 911. Almost exactly as I sent the texts, the doorbell rang. “Hello, UberEats delivery,” the raspy male voice echoed. Knowing the guy outside was just a decoy, my first instinct was to ignore him. But to keep up the act for the person hiding inside my room, I couldn’t appear too calm. I put on an annoyed voice and yelled toward the door, “Sorry, I didn’t order anything! You have the wrong room!” Then, I put in my AirPods, pretending I couldn’t hear the knocking, while my eyes frantically scanned every corner of the room—the curtains, the wardrobe, the bathroom… Where the hell was he hiding? Soon, the pounding stopped, and the footsteps faded away. My bodyguards arrived at my door right on schedule. Everything was playing out exactly like the previous timeline. I practically lunged to open the door, quickly inserting myself into the wall of muscle made up of my men in black. As I rushed out into the hallway, I thought I heard a faint rustling sound coming from inside my room. I whipped my head around. In a dark corner of the living area, I felt an intense, burning gaze locked onto me. “Go! Move out, now!” I ordered, not daring to look any longer. My team instantly formed a protective circle around me, ushering me toward the elevators. We rode down to the basement garage. I didn’t let myself breathe until I was sitting inside my stretch limousine and the heavy door slammed shut. The car sped away from the hotel. Was I safe? My frayed nerves relaxed slightly. As the car drove off, I glanced at my phone. Driven by some morbid compulsion, I opened the Reddit app again. To my horror, that post was hanging at the very top of my feed again! A bad feeling gnawed at my stomach. I quickly scrolled down to the comments. When I read them, my heart nearly stopped. The comment section this time had new replies that weren’t there in the first timeline. And their contents were suffocating: “Man, this heiress was actually pretty smart, but alas… she still died.” “She thought she was safe once she got in the car, but…” “It’s a pity she still died…” “She really thought she escaped…” A freezing chill instantly turned my blood to ice! Fighting back my terror, I slowly turned my head to look at the people inside the limousine. I silently started counting heads. One, two, three… six, seven. A cold sweat broke out on my back. Seven people. Why were there seven people? My security detail only consisted of six men. Everyone was wearing identical black suits and sunglasses. I stared hard, desperately trying to find the unfamiliar face among them. But strangely… I recognized all seven faces. How was this possible? I forced myself to think rationally and quickly made a decision. “Stop the car,” I said, keeping my voice as steady as possible. “Except for Marcus, everyone else get out and head back to the hotel. Wait for the police and help them catch the decoy delivery driver on the Presidential floor.” Marcus was a bodyguard assigned to me when my parents were still alive. He had been with me for ten years and was fiercely loyal. In a situation like this, he was the only one I dared to trust. The doors opened, and the other six bodyguards hurriedly got out, forming a line and jogging back toward the hotel. None of them looked suspicious, except… one of them glanced back at the car while running. That look was bizarre. He wasn’t looking at me. He was looking at the vehicle. I didn’t have time to dwell on it. I told Marcus to get in the driver’s seat and floor it to the nearest police precinct. I slumped into the back seat, drenched in cold sweat. It was just me and Marcus now. The car drove smoothly down the road. Was I… temporarily safe? I checked the time on my phone: 10:28 PM. Two minutes left! I leaned back against the leather seat, trying to steady my racing heartbeat. The interior of the car seemed completely normal. Marcus’s focused profile in the driver’s seat, the pale reflection on the window… Just as my guard dropped for a fraction of a second— A freezing breath of air brushed against the back of my right ear! My pupils dilated! There was someone else in the car!! Before I could even process the thought, a hand covered in rough fabric, cold and hard as a vice, shot out from behind the seat and locked onto my throat! Another hand, holding a gleaming hunting knife, struck with cold precision, plunging deep into the left side of my neck! Squelch! Agony exploded! Warm blood sprayed everywhere! His movements were so incredibly fast that even Marcus, my most skilled bodyguard, didn’t have time to react. My vision instantly turned red and blurry. I saw Marcus whip his head around, his face contorted in absolute horror. The phone slipped from my paralyzed hand. The screen was still lit. The time read: 10:30 PM. 10:30. It was always 10:30. Besides me, there was clearly only one other person in the car. Marcus didn’t attack me. So who was the second person, and how did they get inside my car? The freezing cold completely swallowed my consciousness. Everything faded to black. 03 The icy grip of suffocation vanished, and I opened my eyes again. I was back in the hotel room. I quickly checked the phone in my hand. The time had reset to 10:00 PM exactly. The browser was still parked on that thread. But when I looked closely, the title had changed: [Billionaire Secrets Exposed: On July 30, 2025, at 10:30 PM, the sole heiress of W Enterprises was brutally decapitated while on a business trip in Chicago. Her head was discarded under the east pillar of the Riverwalk Bridge. The killer was the late billionaire’s illegitimate son.] It changed. The Riverwalk Bridge. I quickly recalled my last timeline and realized that was exactly where we were driving when I was murdered in the car. So, my actions were changing things! There was hope! This time, I still texted the police and my bodyguards. But I only told Marcus to come up. Because in the last timeline, I saw with my own eyes that he definitely didn’t attack me. Right now, he was the only variable I knew was safe. Just like before, I ignored the fake delivery driver at the door. When Marcus arrived, I quickly slipped out of the room, making absolutely sure no one followed me out. Then, I grabbed his arm and sprinted for the private elevator. When we reached the underground garage, just to be safe, I didn’t take the stretch limo from the previous loop. I chose a compact sedan instead. I had Marcus circle the car, using a high-powered flashlight to meticulously inspect the undercarriage, the tires, the door seams, and even the hood and trunk locks. We made sure there was nowhere a person could hide. “Ms. Vanderbilt, the exterior is secure. No tracking devices, no signs of tampering,” he said, pulling open the car doors. He thoroughly checked under the seats, the trunk partition, the glove box, and even scanned the ceiling. “Interior is clear! No one is hiding here! We’re safe!” My tense nerves finally relaxed. The space in this sedan was limited; you could count the hiding spots on one hand. “Drive! Head to the nearest police station,” I commanded, getting into the passenger seat. Marcus immediately jumped into the driver’s seat and started the engine. We pulled out of the garage and merged into the late-night traffic, speeding toward the precinct. The car was dead silent. Only the low hum of the engine could be heard. I stared intensely at the backs of our seats, the gaps between them, the roof, the doors… Marcus focused on driving, occasionally casting a vigilant glance in the rearview mirror. Suddenly remembering something, I quickly pulled out my phone. When I opened Reddit, I found that the post was finally gone. It hadn’t reappeared. My heart leaped with joy. Had I finally escaped? Phone time: 10:28 PM. 10:29 PM. The silhouette of the police precinct appeared at the intersection ahead! Red light! The car slowly came to a halt. Just as the red light counted down to ‘3’, and Marcus prepared to step on the gas— A hot, damp breath brushed against the back of my neck from directly behind me. Without any warning whatsoever. Then, I heard a low, raspy male chuckle from right behind my seat. Every hair on my body stood on end! My heart stopped! Impossible! It was only me and Marcus in this car! And Marcus was driving! The very next second, a pair of ice-cold hands violently thrust through the narrow gap between my seat’s headrest and the backrest! They locked onto my throat in a death grip! “Ghk—!” The sensation of suffocation overwhelmed me instantly! I saw Marcus react immediately. He looked behind me in sheer terror, unbuckled his seatbelt, and lunged toward the back seat. But it was too late. The sharp blade had already plunged into my neck. In the final second before losing consciousness, I saw my phone screen light up. The browser had automatically redirected back to that bizarre post. I saw the comment section constantly refreshing: “Man, the heiress was so vigilant this time, but she still died.” “So tragic. The killer originally just wanted to behead her, but her running away pissed him off, so he ended up dismembering her and tossing her in a thousand pieces.” … 04 I opened my eyes again. Still in the hotel room. The time was 10:00 PM. I instinctively looked down at my phone. The page was still on the death premonition thread. But upon closer inspection, the title had changed again. Originally, the killer’s method was decapitation. Now, it had become “Billionaire Heiress Dismembered into a Thousand Pieces.” Just like the comments said, my attempts to escape had enraged the killer, making his methods even more brutal. A dull ache radiated through my body, and my eyelids felt incredibly heavy. For some reason, after respawning this time, I felt profoundly exhausted. Despair almost swallowed me whole. I had exhausted almost every option, yet I still couldn’t escape this loop. I even began to wonder if the thing killing me was human or a ghost. But the post explicitly stated the killer was my dad’s “illegitimate son.” That meant it was a living, breathing human being. But how the hell was he doing it? Forget it! Since I can infinitely loop, let’s go big this time! I sent the emergency texts again. Once all my bodyguards arrived, I took the entire squad down to the hotel’s grand lobby. I had the front desk call every single guest staying at the hotel who was still awake to come down to the lobby. I offered them a deal: Anyone who went live on Instagram or TikTok and kept their camera pointed at me for the rest of the night would receive an immediate wire transfer of $10,000. Soon, the lobby was packed. A cleaning lady looked at me in disbelief. “A little girl like you, handing out ten grand? I don’t buy it!” I immediately asked for her Venmo and transferred her $5,000 on the spot. “Whoa—!” The crowd erupted! Countless phones were raised high, lenses aimed right at me, flashes blending into a continuous strobe light. I casually started giving a makeshift seminar on corporate business strategies, while my eyes scanned the room like radar. Time ticked away. 10:15… 10:28… 10:30! My heart pounded wildly! I survived past 10:30! Just as I suspected, the killer had absolutely no way to commit the murder under the watchful eyes of a hundred live-streaming cameras. Soon, the police arrived. Though I had looped several times and called the cops each time, this was the first loop where I actually lived long enough to see them. Since the real killer hadn’t made a move, I only informed the police about the decoy delivery driver hiding on the Presidential floor. It didn’t take long for the cops to escort the greasy, middle-aged fake delivery driver out of the elevator. The crowd naturally parted to make way. But as the driver walked past me, his cloudy eyes suddenly darted up. His lips twisted into an icy, grotesque smirk as he stared at me, full of mockery. It was the look you give a dead person. A deep sense of unease settled in my chest. I didn’t dare relax. Even though 10:30 had passed, I insisted on sitting in the lobby, keeping myself exposed to the live-stream cameras. The streams lasted until dawn. I transferred the promised money to everyone present without hesitation. I was exhausted beyond belief, but I couldn’t stay here. “To the police precinct,” I told Marcus. Because the trauma from the previous two loops was too intense, I was terrified to take a private car. So, I opted to take the early morning public bus. The first bus of the day was mostly empty. Marcus and I sat in the back row. Watching the steam rise from the breakfast carts out the window, my frayed nerves finally eased a bit. The bus came to a halt at the precinct stop. I stood up and walked toward the back doors with Marcus. The police station was in a slightly secluded area, and the streets were dead quiet. The exact moment I stepped out of the bus doors and my feet hit the pavement— Squelch! That familiar, agonizing pain! A cold blade precisely sliced my throat open! My vision instantly turned red and tilted sideways. Belated screams erupted around me. Using my last ounce of strength, I desperately twisted my nearly severed neck to look behind me— All I saw was a hand bearing a crescent-moon-shaped scar. Marcus stood right next to me, staring in sheer terror at the space behind me. As he lunged backward to catch the attacker, I lost consciousness and collapsed heavily. 05 The icy grip of suffocation faded. I opened my eyes. It was 10:00 PM again. With trembling hands, I opened my phone to check the title of the post. Sure enough, it had changed again. This time it read: [Billionaire Heiress Brutally Murdered Years Ago; Killer Remains at Large, Case Unsolved!] Because the time, location, and method of the murder kept changing, it was drastically altering the police’s ability to investigate the case in the future. This time, they never even found out who killed me. My heart plummeted. I forced myself to calm down and think. At least from the previous loop, I learned that the killer had a crescent-moon scar on their arm. In the loop where I gathered the crowd to live-stream, I managed to survive past 10:30 and even made it to dawn. But even so… as long as I didn’t drag the killer out into the light, I would always be a fish on a chopping block. I could survive the night, but I couldn’t survive a lifetime! I couldn’t live my entire life in front of a camera. I would inevitably die by this person’s hands. I took a ragged, heavy breath and tried to lift my arm, only to realize my entire body felt like lead. I could distinctly feel that my physical condition was significantly worse this loop than the last. Perhaps my chances to loop were running out. If I failed again, I might never wake up. So even if the odds of survival were slim, I had to catch the killer with my own hands. … This time, after sending the emergency texts, I decided to follow the exact path I had taken in the second loop: fleeing in the stretch limo with my entire security detail. Because that was the only time the killer had exposed a flaw. When the number of bodyguards in the car went from six to seven, the killer was absolutely hiding among them. Once all six bodyguards arrived, I casually scanned their exposed forearms. No crescent-moon scars! “Everyone, follow me. We’re going to the precinct!” I ordered sharply. The garage. The stretch limousine. I sat in the middle of the back row, with Marcus sitting close to my left. The other four men sat on the side benches and individual seats, with one driving. Once the car started, I stared intensely at the rearview mirror. Still only six men. And the spacious, brightly lit interior left absolutely nowhere for an extra person to hide. Time slipped away: 10:25… 10:28… A deep sense of unease filled the car. I swept my gaze to the rearview mirror again—and this time, I locked eyes with someone in the reflection! It was the bodyguard sitting in the independent seat across from me! He was staring straight at me! His eyes were complex—there was no loyalty in them, only suppressed… struggle? And pity? I remembered now! In the second loop, when I ordered everyone out of the car, he was the one who cast that bizarre, lingering look back at the vehicle! This guy was definitely the problem! My heart hammered in my chest! I was just about to scream at him— At that exact millisecond— An indescribable, agonizing pain exploded from deep within my throat! “Ghk!” My throat convulsed as if flash-frozen. A blade was violently driven through the back of my neck, piercing straight through! “Squelch—!” Blood mixed with shattered tissue sprayed from my mouth! My vision went instantly red! The bodyguard in the independent seat looked at me with sheer terror. I stared dead into his eyes. He wasn’t the killer. But I finally knew exactly how to catch the monster. My consciousness sank into the dark once more.

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I took my mom cherry picking, and out of nowhere, she blurted out: “You know, you’re actually pretty cheap.” I looked up, a bit stunned, staring at her in confusion. “Why would you say that?” “Even though you make good money, sometimes you really don’t measure up to your sister.” “To put it bluntly, you’re just cheap.” My mom emphasized the word, repeating it with lingering resentment. “Sure, sometimes when we see you, you give us cash, and you buy the household essentials, but you’ve never once treated us to a nice dinner out. Your sister isn’t like that. She’s always treating us.” Suddenly, it all made sense. I finally understood. That dinner my sister paid for two weeks ago had become a knot in my mother’s heart, one she simply couldn’t get past. 1 Two weeks ago, my dad was unexpectedly in a car accident and broke his arm. I rushed him to the hospital, running up and down the floors to handle the billing, fill out the paperwork, and hire a private nurse. By the time my sister finally arrived, I had basically done all the heavy lifting. So, my sister took us out to the fast-food place right across the street from the hospital to grab a bite to eat. At that moment, my mom’s face visibly soured. She hinted to me, hesitating before finally saying: “You are the older sister.” I sighed, accepting my fate, and pulled out my phone to pay. The whole meal was maybe thirty or forty bucks, not even fifty. It wasn’t that I was unwilling to pay; I just didn’t want my mom to sit there with a long face, projecting her dissatisfaction onto me over a few dollars. But my sister was faster. She playfully waved her phone in the air. “I already paid!” My mom instantly looked horrified and asked my sister: “Where did you get the money? Your Uber here must have cost over a hundred dollars! I’m here, and your sister is here, why on earth would we let you pay?” My sister, clearly afraid I would get mad, shot me a quick, covert look and offered a helpless, bitter smile. Then, she linked arms with my mom, acting sweet and coaxing. “Mom, what does it matter who pays? Didn’t my sister just pay the massive hospital deposit and cover the private nurse? There’s no reason I shouldn’t be the one to cover this tiny little expense.” “Once they find the driver who hit Dad, all this money will be reimbursed by their insurance anyway. My sister is just fronting the money for now, it’s not like she won’t get it back.” My mom muttered something under her breath, clearly still unconvinced. But in reality, when my mom finally received the insurance settlement, she didn’t pay me back a single dime. That didn’t really matter to me. My dad was hurt; it was my duty to step up and help cover the costs. I wasn’t bitter about that part. What hurt me was this: My mom would repeatedly bring up the fact that my sister paid for that one specific meal. “We shouldn’t have let your sister pay. Her income is so unstable. She works one month and is unemployed for two. It’s a struggle for her just to support herself.” “Your sister treated us to lunch today. You really got to ride her coattails, huh?” I had just spent thousands of dollars, and my sister had spent thirty, but somehow, I was the one riding her coattails? I had reached my limit and was just opening my mouth to snap back. But I saw my dad frantically shaking his head at me from the hospital bed. For the sake of my poor, injured dad, I swallowed my anger and didn’t start a screaming match with my mom right there in the hospital room. But in just one short afternoon… Through phone calls, face-to-face chats with visitors, and FaceTime sessions, my mom managed to tell every single person she could get ahold of. My sister treated us to a fast-food meal, and now the whole world knew about it. And what about me? I stretched my neck to listen, only to hear my mom whispering sympathetically: “The youngest is always the most thoughtful, you know? She knew we hadn’t eaten all day and had nowhere to go, so she immediately took us out for food.” “The older one sat here with us all morning, didn’t even notice I was starving, didn’t even think to go to the vending machine and grab me a muffin or something.” I couldn’t listen to another word. I made a flimsy excuse, turned around, and walked out. The tears fell freely down my face. It wasn’t that I hadn’t thought about her being hungry; it was that I was so overwhelmed I literally didn’t have a second to think. I was handling the admission paperwork, coordinating the X-rays, paying the massive bills, tracking down the police to ask if the hit-and-run driver had been caught, and vetting private nurses. When did I even have a moment to catch my breath? I had always known my mom played favorites. When we were in college, the agreement was that my sister and I would each get a thousand dollars a month for living expenses. But between buying school supplies, textbooks, groceries, and basic necessities, my thousand was never enough. Yet, my sister always seemed to have money left over. My mom would constantly scold me, saying I wasn’t as sensible as my sister, that I didn’t care how hard my parents worked, that I didn’t know how to budget. Every time I had to ask for money, I had to endure a brutal lecture. Occasionally, there would be a month where I pinched every penny and miraculously didn’t go over budget. But then, my mom wouldn’t send my allowance on time. She would intentionally delay it by a few days, claiming she was “teaching me financial discipline.” 2 I was always living in a state of anxiety. Every month, I prayed my mom wouldn’t delay the transfer. But I never dared to actually ask her for it. Because my mom would always shut me down with the exact same sentence: “Why is your sister’s allowance always enough? Why does she never have to hound me for money?” Yeah, I didn’t understand it either. I was already being so incredibly frugal, literally calculating how many tampons I could afford to use. Why was it still never enough? It wasn’t until a few years after graduation, during a casual chat with my sister, that I finally found out the truth. Her monthly cash allowance was indeed a thousand dollars. But every other expense? My mom bought it for her and shipped it directly to her dorm. Whether it was textbooks, makeup, or snacks. Even her campus dining card was topped up every single semester, and it was always loaded with a thousand dollars right off the bat. My sister’s thousand-dollar cash allowance? She literally didn’t even know what to spend it on. And me? I got nothing. Every single one of my expenses had to come out of that flat one thousand dollars. During the holidays, my mom would bring out the smoked salmon she had made from scratch to serve guests. Both my sister and I loved it. When we were getting ready to leave, my mom packed a massive shopping bag full of it for my sister. She didn’t even offer me a single piece. My dad, watching from the side, felt the awkwardness and quickly chimed in: “Pack a bag of the salmon for Avery, too.” My mom scoffed disdainfully. “What salmon?” “That’s for guests.” She spoke slowly, drawing out the words. Her eyes landed squarely on me. Then, with feigned hesitation, she asked: “Do you want some?” I fought back the tears threatening to spill and shook my head aggressively. “No. I don’t really like it.” She let out a massive sigh of relief, as if she had just dodged a bullet, and smiled at my dad. “See? I told you she didn’t want any. She’s so picky, she wouldn’t even look twice at this simple food.” It hurt so much. I quickly ran outside, started my car, and prepared to leave. But my mom chased after me. Her reluctance from a moment ago had completely vanished, replaced by a beaming smile as she shoved a bag of smoked fish through my car window. “Just take it, your dad insisted.” “If you don’t take it, he’s going to start a fight with me again.” I let out a low sigh and took the bag. When I got home and opened it, I realized it wasn’t the batch she had made herself. Her recipe was slightly spicy, flavorful, and incredibly delicious. The batch she gave me was plain and bland. It was the batch my aunt had given her—the batch my mom had openly complained she hated. I remembered her taking it out of the fridge to heat up a few days ago, muttering: “This tastes awful. I really didn’t want to take it. I’ll just give it away to someone later.” Oh. So the “someone” she deemed worthy of her garbage leftovers was me. And now, as my mom brought up that fast-food dinner my sister paid for yet again, I finally couldn’t hold it in anymore. “Mom. The bedsheets in your house, the fruit and snacks in your fridge, the paper towels, even the AC unit and the TV—which one of those didn’t I buy? Every holiday and birthday, I hand you cash envelopes with thousands of dollars. Have you ever bothered to calculate how much all of that adds up to? My sister pays for a thirty-dollar meal, and you obsess over it, repeating over and over that I took advantage of her. So how about this: from now on, she can pay for all the appliances and cash gifts, and I’ll Venmo her a hundred bucks right now to cover that meal. Will that finally buy your silence?” “If this is how you calculate who is taking a loss and who is taking advantage, then fine! Let my sister take all the ‘advantage,’ and I’ll gladly take the ‘loss.’ Is that what you want?!” I was so angry my throat was hoarse, choking on a sob. My mom was startled by my outburst, her eyes widening in shock. “Why are you so emotionally unstable? We’re just having a casual chat, what are you throwing such a massive tantrum for?” “I’m uneducated, I didn’t go to college. How am I supposed to know what I should and shouldn’t say? Do you really need to nitpick every single word your own mother says? I never said you didn’t spend money on me, did I? I said it right from the start: you give me money and buy me things. I’m just saying that when it comes to taking people out to eat, you aren’t as thoughtful as your sister, you aren’t as sophisticated. Was I wrong to point that out?” 3 “Honestly, you can’t even say a word around you anymore.” “Don’t ever invite me out again. It’s blazing hot outside, and apparently, letting me tag along is some kind of crime to you? You’re like a landmine, exploding without warning. Do I owe you something?” “I was in such a good mood, and your yelling completely ruined it.” She put on an expression of utter disgust and victimhood. She grabbed the baskets of cherries we had just picked and started walking out of the orchard. From a distance, I could hear her telling the fruit stand owner, “My daughter is paying,” before she walked out to the side of the road and hailed an Uber. Leaving me standing there, my heart overflowing with frustration and humiliation. I deeply regretted ever inviting her out. Actually, it wasn’t even my idea to invite her. She called me yesterday saying she was craving cherries. I offered to buy some from the grocery store and bring them over, but she insisted she wanted “freshly picked” ones. So, I specifically rescheduled my own plans, booked a spot at this U-Pick orchard, and drove her all the way out here before I even had time to eat breakfast. I never expected that after one minor disagreement, she would throw a fit and literally abandon me here. In the past, I would always rationalize it to myself. She’s getting older, she’s stuck in her ways, I shouldn’t hold it against her. But this time, it was probably because this string of incidents had happened so close together, and she was being so incredibly unreasonable, that it left me absolutely zero room to lie to myself anymore. I decided to let my emotions run their course. I was never going to bow my head to her again. There was only one thing still weighing on my mind. About a month ago, my mom kept dropping hints that she wanted me to take her to buy a robot vacuum. She constantly complained that sweeping hurt her back and that she would eventually develop chronic back pain. But because it had been so hot lately, we kept pushing it off, saying we’d go when the weather cooled down in the fall. Even though she didn’t explicitly say it, based on every past experience, if I was the one taking her to the store, I was the one paying for it. It’s not like I hadn’t had arguments with my mom before. But every single time, the person who initiated the thaw, or even swallowed their pride to beg for peace, was always me. But this time, I suddenly wanted to know. If I never contacted her again, and never mentioned taking her to buy that vacuum, what would she do? Even if I knew that her reaching out to me wouldn’t prove she actually cared about me. I was still curious. Would she initiate contact, even if it was just for a piece of electronics? The answer arrived very quickly. Three months later, she proactively sent me a text. But the content was something I genuinely didn’t expect. “You don’t need to take me to buy that robot vacuum anymore.” [What happened?] “I just asked around. That thing uses way too much electricity. It’ll add sixty or seventy dollars a month to the electric bill. That’s almost eight or nine hundred dollars a year. It’s too expensive. I don’t deserve to use something like that.” My fingers hovered over the keyboard, frozen. I paused, then pretended I didn’t see the guilt trip and replied: [Actually, they aren’t that expensive to run. The newer models are very energy-efficient, it definitely won’t cost that much.] “Whatever you say. But if you don’t want to buy it anymore, then let’s not waste a trip.” Her chat status showed “Typing…” continuously. But two hours passed, and she hadn’t sent another word. When I tried to send her another message, I discovered I had been blocked. I understood. She couldn’t bring herself to just ask directly. What she really wanted was to wait for me to volunteer to pay her future electric bills too. If I did that, she would happily go with me to buy it. I understood perfectly, but I was feeling stubborn too. I absolutely refused to say it. Even though my heart was broken and disillusioned by my mom’s blatant favoritism, a tiny part of me still hadn’t completely given up hope. It wasn’t that I never wanted to spend money on her again. It was that I could no longer allow her to play deaf and blind to my sacrifices. Every dollar I spent, every ounce of thought I put in—I needed her to acknowledge that she saw it, felt it, and received it. The day we originally planned to go look at the vacuum arrived. Early in the morning, my dad called me. He asked casually what time I was getting there and if he needed to make breakfast for me. I feigned surprise. “Dad, I’m at work today. What’s going on?” 4 “Weren’t we scheduled to go look at that robot vacuum with your mom today? Why are you at work?” “I was going to ask for PTO, but Mom said she didn’t want to go anymore, so I didn’t ask for the day off.” “Well, just ask for it now. We’ll wait for you at home.” My dad sounded a bit exasperated. But I still refused. “I can’t, Dad. PTO has to be requested a day in advance. It’s too late for me to ask now. We’ll have to do it another time.” My mom must have been listening nearby, and she finally couldn’t hold it back. “I told you not to call her, not to call her! She just talks a big game, making pretty promises. And you actually believed her? You thought she really wanted to take me? Unbelievable. I’m embarrassed for you. Just hang up. Stop bothering her while she’s at work.” She projected her voice, laying the sarcasm on thick. After the call ended, my dad texted me. His tone carried a distinct hint of accusation. “You really are something else. It’s not like you don’t know your mother’s temper. When she said she didn’t want to go, she was just throwing a tantrum. Why didn’t you just come over and coax her? Why do you have to be so stubborn and take her words literally?” “Dad, Mom blocked me on iMessage. How am I supposed to coax her? Besides, she’s a grown adult. She said she didn’t want to go. Am I supposed to physically drag her to the store?” At the same time, my mom posted a TikTok video to our four-person family group chat. The title was: “When old people are unlikable and don’t know how to speak properly, do they just deserve to die?” My sister hadn’t realized the severity of the situation yet. She was the first to jump in, joking around: “Who has the guts to make Mom unhappy again? Tell me, I’ll beat them up for you.” “Was it Dad? Hurry up and apologize, Dad, or else your two favorite daughters are going to turn on you.” “It wasn’t your dad.” “Thank God I still have you, Chloe. If I didn’t, your mother would really die of a broken heart.” The moment my mom sent those two messages, the target was painfully obvious. My dad immediately tagged me in the group: “Avery, regardless of whether you’re right or wrong, you’re the child. Bowing your head first won’t kill you. Just apologize to your mom, okay?” He then tagged my mom: “And you too. Why are you holding a grudge against your own kid? Stop being so stubborn. We’ll go tomorrow. Avery will take the day off, and she’ll go with us.” “Right, Avery?” My sister finally realized something was wrong and messaged me privately: “What’s going on, Avery? Did you and Mom get into a fight?” “No. Just a misunderstanding.” After replying to my sister, I explained in the group chat. “Mom, it’s not that I’m breaking a promise. You explicitly said you weren’t going, which is why I didn’t ask for PTO today.” “You blocked me for no reason a while ago, and I have no idea how I offended you. Now you’re doing this again. I genuinely don’t know what I did wrong. If it’s because you still want to buy the vacuum, you could have just told me directly. I would have taken tomorrow off. But I really can’t guess what’s on your mind anymore, and I don’t want to try.” “Dad, can our family please change how we communicate? If you need something, or if us kids are doing something wrong, just say it directly. We are a family; there shouldn’t be anything we can’t say to each other, right? Relying on us to constantly guess… we aren’t mind readers. Who can guess right every single time and keep you perfectly satisfied?” My dad replied instantly: “Yes, yes, yes, Avery is absolutely right. You come home tomorrow, and we’ll sit your mother down and educate her together.” “You just focus on getting the day off. I’ll handle your mother on this end. Even if I have to tie her up, I’ll get her there.” Then, my dad sent me a private message, suddenly dropping this line. I felt a profound sense of exhaustion. But I forced myself to reply in the group chat: “Dad, it doesn’t matter what you say. I need Mom to say it herself. Does she want me to come home tomorrow? I don’t want to be blamed for doing the wrong thing again.” 5 I brought up the incident where I took her to the cherry orchard, and how she ended up blaming me for dragging her out in the heat, right in the group chat. “It’s my fault for oversimplifying things. Mom said she was craving cherries. I offered to buy them from the store, but she said no, she wanted to eat them fresh. So I took her to the orchard. But then she turned around and complained that I dragged her out in the blazing heat. I figured that was because I failed to guess her true intentions correctly. So from now on, I won’t guess. I will only accept explicit, direct instructions.” “If you want to go, I will request PTO tomorrow. So, do you want to go? Mom.” I tagged my mom again in the group. I admit I was using this issue to make a larger point. My mom is an incredibly convoluted person. When she wants something, even if you place it directly into her hands, she will push it away three or four times. She forces you to come up with every excuse in the book to make her accept it. And after she finally accepts it, she still has to look at it with disgust, claiming how much she dislikes it, how she never wanted it, and how you forced it on her. So getting her to explicitly say “I want this”—how could that be possible? Almost exactly as I predicted, she refused. Except this refusal was fueled by rage, or rather, the humiliation of being exposed. “I already said I’m not buying it! Why would we go?” “Don’t you dare take PTO tomorrow and try to blame it on me, saying I told you to. From start to finish, I never said I wanted to go. If you guys want to go, go by yourselves.” I took screenshots of the entire chat history and saved them, securing my evidence. Just as I finished doing that, I noticed that my mom had removed me from the family group chat. My sister immediately slid into my DMs: “Avery, you should still take PTO and come home tomorrow. I think Mom is genuinely really angry this time.” “I only said a couple of things defending you in the group, and she almost kicked me out too.” “You know how Mom’s personality is. Deep down, she just wants the vacuum.” “If you don’t go back and buy it for her, I’m afraid she’ll make an even bigger scene.” I knew my sister meant well. But right now, I simply refused to be accommodating. So I just replied to her: “Mom already said she doesn’t want to go. I don’t want to provoke her further. Let’s just do what she says.” The days after being kicked out of the group chat were incredibly peaceful. I was no longer suddenly tagged by my mom while working overtime, demanded to buy this or that. I was no longer scolded for buying things that were “poor quality,” or interrogated if I was just being cheap and didn’t want to buy the good stuff. My feed was no longer spammed every few days with those obnoxious, preachy “how to be a good daughter” TikToks. I also didn’t have to act as the judge between my mom and her friends and relatives, listening to her endlessly vent her toxic emotional garbage. This life… I was actually starting to enjoy it. Until Thanksgiving rolled around. Instead of stuffing my trunk full of big and small boxes like I used to in the past. I simply brought a standard, polite holiday gift basket and went home. In the most conspicuous spot in the living room, right where everyone would see it, sat a brand-new robot vacuum. I was a bit surprised. But before I even crossed the threshold, I heard my mom loudly and sarcastically announcing that my sister had bought it for her. “At least one of my children actually loves me.” “My poor baby, she doesn’t even own her own home yet, but she still knows to buy a robot vacuum for her old mother. Tell me, how could you not love a child like that?” I wasn’t angry in the slightest; I just played along. “You’re right, Mom. You should definitely dote on her more. It’s not easy for her to make money, working so hard out there all by herself.” Seeing her punch land on cotton, she felt completely deflated and turned to walk away. But within an hour, she had called over a whole flock of relatives. My sister also arrived a bit later. The topic of conversation never strayed from the robot vacuum my sister had bought. My mom rambled on and on, detailing every little thing about the day they bought it, using me as a stepping stone to praise my sister. “Actually, at first, Avery said she was going to buy it for me. I never expected that in the end, the one who actually pulled out her wallet would be Chloe.” 6 “That’s why I say Avery is sneaky. The second she saw she might actually have to pay, she ran for the hills. Thank God I never really counted on her, otherwise I would have died of a broken heart.” My mom seemed to be just joking around. As she reached the climax of her story, she threw her head back and let out a booming, exaggerated laugh. My sister looked at me with deep unease. She opened her mouth, wanting to explain something, but she was afraid of dragging her mother—who loved her so much and was currently showing her off—into the mud. She could only silently keep her mouth shut. The looks the relatives were giving me had already changed. They were filled with suspicion, incomprehension, and even condemnation. My aunt, who was always outspoken and fiercely protective of her older sister, blurted out: “Avery, I’m not trying to criticize you, but sometimes… people shouldn’t value money so heavily. Family is more important than money, don’t you agree?” “You’re absolutely right, Auntie. You hit the nail on the head.” I replied with a beaming smile. But my hands didn’t stop moving on my phone. My mom was furious that my attention wasn’t entirely focused on her public shaming. She immediately lunged over and snatched my phone out of my hands. “What are you so busy doing? The room is full of your elders trying to talk to you, and you’re just staring at your phone? How can you be so disrespectful?” “Can’t you just listen for one minute?” “Mom, just leave her alone. Avery is busy with work, it’s totally understandable.” My sister couldn’t help but interrupt. I smiled. I took my phone back from my mom’s hand. “I’m actually not busy with work.” “I’m busy restoring the truth.” That was when everyone realized I had just forwarded all the screenshots of our previous group chats into the extended family group chat. Someone gasped: “Oh wow, is this real?” “Wait, Avery didn’t refuse to buy it for you, you told her not to! Then why are you blaming her?” My mom’s face went from red to white, cycling through colors like a traffic light. It was spectacular. “She never genuinely wanted to buy it for me! If she was sincere, she would have just bought it. Why would she keep asking over and over? Why didn’t Chloe have to ask over and over? She was just waiting for me to say yes so she could force me to owe her a favor and be grateful! She’s full of malicious intentions! Was I wrong not to fall for her trap?” My mom looked completely self-righteous, convinced of her own logic. And I continued to ignore her bait. I just took a few steps forward, stopping in front of the TV. “This TV. Back then, my mom also said she didn’t want it, over and over again. I didn’t listen to her, and I bought it anyway. Then she constantly complained to me that I bought one that was too small, saying it strained her eyes. I told her I would take her to exchange it, but she refused to go.” I took a few more steps and stopped under the air conditioning unit. “Last summer, Mom said it was too hot and she wanted an AC unit. When I actually bought it for her, she said the cold air made her back and knees ache, that she couldn’t handle the breeze. From that day on, she never turned it on again.” “The bedsheets, the toilet paper, almost everything you see in this house—I bought them. Aunts, uncles, elders… have any of you ever heard my mom say a single word of praise or appreciation about me?” Everyone was stunned. The atmosphere descended into a bizarre, oppressive silence. An intense awkwardness seemed to spread from person to person. My sister rushed forward and grabbed my arm. “Avery, please, just stop talking. Leave Mom some dignity. No matter how flawed she is, she’s still our mother.” My mom glared at me, her eyes wide and bulging. Her red-rimmed eyes were filled with absolute fury. Her nostrils flared with agitation. She suddenly pointed a finger right at my face: “So what if you spent some money on me? Don’t think just because you threw a few stinking dollars around that you’re better than everyone else! Do you think I care about the money? I care about the thought! The attitude!” “You’re standing here demonizing me in front of everyone, maliciously dragging my name through the mud! Even if you spent a million dollars on me, I wouldn’t appreciate it!” “I never expected you to appreciate it, Mom. I just wanted everyone to know what an incredibly convoluted, impossible person you are. I’ve spent my entire life trying to please you, but you can never be pleased.” “And Chloe doesn’t have to do a single thing, and she will always be your precious darling.”

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Since I was a little girl, I harbored a deep, secret crush on my best friend’s twin brother. I kept that admiration buried deep in my heart. In my previous life, on the first night of the fall semester, Nolan—our class president—decided to set off fireworks on the roof of our dorm building to celebrate his girlfriend Aria’s birthday. Terrified that the Resident Advisor (RA) would catch them, he actually took a padlock and locked the main double doors of the dorm before heading back up to haul the rest of the fireworks. No one could have predicted what happened next. The intense summer heat caused the stockpiled fireworks on the roof to spontaneously ignite and detonate. Because the doors were locked, my best friend was trampled and coughed up blood while trying to shield me from the panicked crowd. Other classmates, unable to bear the agony of being burned alive, threw themselves from the windows to their deaths. I frantically called everyone I could think of to come open the doors. Hearing the news, Nolan abandoned Aria and rushed back to campus, which barely helped minimize further casualties. Afterward, he dropped to his knees in front of everyone, begging for forgiveness. “It’s all my fault. I killed our classmates. I deserve to die.” But the very next day, he received news that Aria, drunk and distraught over being abandoned, had stumbled into a lake and drowned. Nolan was expelled from the university and faced the cold, hard bars of a prison cell. On the day his trial began, I went to the courthouse to support him. Instead, he pulled a knife and stabbed me repeatedly. As I lay in a pool of my own blood, his eyes were filled with pure, unhinged madness. “It’s because you forced me to come back that Aria died! I’m sending you to hell to keep her company!” When I opened my eyes again, an earth-shattering explosion ripped through the air. I had been reborn. Back to the exact day the fireworks blew up the dorm. 01 My roommates were screaming in sheer terror, their cries echoing over one another. Realizing I had respawned, I immediately grabbed my violently trembling best friend, Nora, and dragged her into the en-suite bathroom. I yelled at the other girls to get in here and soak their clothes in water. Nora was crying, looking at me in utter confusion. “Harper, the whole building is going to collapse! We need to run downstairs! What are we doing in the bathroom?!” The other roommates who had crowded into the bathroom stared at me too. “Yeah, Harper! If we just run out of the building, we’ll be fine. Why are we wetting our clothes?” Looking at their panicked eyes, a surge of complex emotions overwhelmed me. They didn’t know yet. To set off fireworks for Aria, Nolan had chained and locked both the front and back exits on the ground floor. If we went down there now, not only would we be trapped, but we would also be caught in a deadly, horrific stampede. “Nora, your brother locked the front and back doors of the dorm. We can’t get out right now.” The other girls’ eyes widened to the size of saucers. They couldn’t fathom how Nolan, the responsible Class President, could do something so insane. The keys to the women’s dorm were kept by the RA. How did he get them, and why would he lock the doors? The fire was spreading faster than I had anticipated. In the blink of an eye, the flames licked toward our room, and the window curtains instantly caught fire. “Then what do we do?! We can’t just sit here and wait to die!” “Sob… I just got into college. I don’t want to die!” My heart sank. I ran out of the bathroom and started shoving the heavy twin beds together with all my might, trying to create a barricade. Seeing my deadly serious expression, Nora couldn’t help but trust me. “My phone is dead! Quick, call my brother and tell him to come back and unlock the doors!” With that, Nora and the other girls grabbed buckets of water and started throwing them at the burning curtains. Absolute terror was written across everyone’s face. This time, I didn’t bother contacting Nolan. I dialed 911 immediately. I gave the dispatcher the exact address and the dire situation of the dorm, begging them to send the fire department instantly. In my previous life, Nolan had hung up on my desperate calls multiple times, completely wasting our window of survival. It wasn’t until he was casually driving back from his romantic dinner that he realized the entire dorm building had been blasted into a partial collapse by the fireworks. Half the residents were dead or injured, and countless students had jumped to escape the flames. Nora had been trampled so severely that, after emergency surgery, she was left in a permanent vegetative state. Holding his severely injured sister, he had screamed and cursed himself for being a monster. The dorm building gave a violent shudder. Outside the window, a classmate, completely engulfed in flames, plummeted past our floor. My roommates turned pale as sheets. A few of them pulled out their phones, weeping as they started recording their final goodbyes to their families. Nora hurriedly grabbed a roommate’s phone and dialed Nolan. After a long, agonizing ring, Nolan answered with a lazy, nasal tone. “Hello?” Nora’s voice was shaking, tears streaming down her face. “Nolan! The fireworks exploded in the dorm! You have to bring the keys back and open the doors right now!” “People are dying and getting hurt! I am not joking!” On the other end of the line, Nolan merely frowned, completely dismissing her. “Nora, I know you don’t like Aria. You’re just throwing a tantrum because I didn’t help you move your luggage into your dorm today.” Nora’s ex-boyfriend was the Student Body President, but Aria had effortlessly stolen him away. Unable to accept the emotional betrayal, Nora had ended the relationship in a highly public, messy breakup. Because of that, Nolan assumed she was deliberately targeting Aria out of spite. “I need to celebrate Aria’s birthday right now. I made her mad a few days ago, and I need to make it up to her. I don’t have time to coddle you.” “Did Harper tell you to make this call? Tell her I’ve known about her little crush on me for years, but my heart only belongs to Aria! The fireworks might get me a warning at worst. Tell her to stop trying to intervene. She’s just the Vice President; she needs to mind her own business.” Nora was shocked and frantic, burning with anxiety. “No, Nolan! The building is literally collapsing! If you don’t come back, the entire dorm—including me—is going to burn to the ground!” Nolan let out a cold scoff. “You’re just my sister. Aria is my future wife.” “So, can you grow up and act your age for once?” With that, he hung up. Nora dialed again. It went straight to voicemail. She was hyperventilating, her face covered in tears. Part of it was fear for everyone’s safety, but the other part was profound heartbreak over her brother’s horrific priorities. Listening to his words, I secretly clenched my fists. The overlapping trajectories of two lifetimes had finally allowed me to see Nolan’s true colors. He was never worth my love. 02 The power to the dorm’s AC was cut. The temperature in the room skyrocketed until everyone’s skin was flushed red and sweating profusely. The building gave a sudden lurch. Everyone screamed, grabbing onto the heavy, shifting bed frames. I pulled Nora under the bed and screamed at the others. “Everyone, get under the beds!” The roommates scrambled underneath, their bodies shaking violently. But hiding underneath wasn’t a long-term solution. We were on the fourth floor. If the building collapsed, we were dead anyway. “Right now! Take your clothes and the bedsheets and tie them all into knots! We’re going to rappel down! It might be our only chance!” I ripped the bedsheets off. Nora found a pair of scissors, cut them into strips, and we frantically began tying everything together into a makeshift rope. But a new problem emerged. There was absolutely nothing sturdy enough in the room to anchor the sheets to. That meant two people had to stay behind to act as the human counterweight so the others could climb down. Which meant… at least one person wouldn’t be able to escape. I took a deep breath, looking at Nora, who had just realized the same grim truth. In my past life, Nora protected me. In this life, I would sacrifice myself to save her. She was my childhood best friend, the most precious person in my life. “Once everyone else is down, I’ll hold the rope, and you climb down.” Nora shook her head vehemently. “Harper, if we leave, we leave together. If we stay, we stay together. I am not leaving you behind!” I grabbed her shoulders, shaking her hard, trying to force some sense into her. “Nora! I only have my grandmother! But you have a happy, complete family! If you die, what will happen to your parents?!” “The building is tilting. When I hold you, you have to brace your feet against the wall as you go down. Do you understand me?!” The roommates had finished tying the knots. The hallway outside was dead empty. Everyone had panicked and rushed down to the first floor. Now, a fatal stampede was happening down there. We could hear the muffled, desperate screams for help. Nora and I anchored the sheet rope. The other roommates, shaking like leaves, gripped it tightly and began to climb down. The scene felt like a living hell. The last roommate looked at Nora and me, sobbing, before reluctantly grabbing the rope. “You both have to survive.” Then, it was just me and Nora. Another explosion rocked the building. The shockwave instantly shattered the windows of the academic building across the street. Nora and I lost our footing and fell hard to the floor. Her eyes were filled with sorrow as she looked at me, refusing to leave. She scrambled back from the window. “Harper, if you aren’t leaving, I’m not leaving either!” I gagged on the thick smoke and shoved her toward the window, urging her to go. Nora refused. In her panic, she slapped my arm, her voice thick with despair. “Harper! You have to know someone else who has a spare key to the dorm! Think! Think hard! Find someone to save us!” 03 I knew that if we kept arguing, we would both die here. My mind raced frantically. Through the chaotic fog, a name flashed in my mind: Tristan. The Student Body President had used the dorm lobby for an event a few days ago and had borrowed the spare keys from the RA. He hadn’t returned them yet! “I know! I know!” Hearing this, Nora wept tears of joy. “Thank God! We’re saved!” I quickly pulled out my phone. After nearly forty seconds of agonizing ringing, the line finally connected. “Tristan! The dorm is on fire! I remember the Student Council has the spare keys! Hurry up and get someone to open the doors!” Tristan answered the phone in the middle of the night, clearly half-asleep. I didn’t have time to explain everything. I just held the phone out so he could hear the horrific screams coming from the lower floors. But Tristan didn’t react. Instead, a dismissive scoff came through the speaker. “Harper, you’ve really gone all out just to help Nora put on a show. Making this huge of a scene? You actually dragged the whole dorm into this little carnival?” Hearing Nora’s name made the guy on the other end even more irritated. “Nora, we are broken up. Stop obsessing over me.” Tristan’s tone was entirely absolute. He genuinely believed I was just orchestrating a massive prank to help Nora throw a tantrum. Tears of pure frustration spilled down my face. Faced with life and death, I couldn’t keep my emotions in check. Tristan’s voice grew colder. “Whatever. You’re just doing this because you think I’m ignoring you and paying attention to other girls, right? Using a stunt like this to get my attention is incredibly pathetic.” Nora frantically grabbed the phone. “This isn’t a prank!” Right as she spoke, another classmate, engulfed in flames, threw herself from the window above us. Nora gripped the phone, sweating profusely. “Please, save us.” “Please, just bring the keys and open the main doors! Save everyone!” Tristan, annoyed by her screaming, lost his patience entirely and cursed at her. “Nora, if Nolan hadn’t called me beforehand, I might have actually fallen for your bullshit! I can’t believe you made up a lie about the dorm exploding from fireworks to trick me!” “Let me tell you, it’s late. Don’t disturb my sleep.” I was burning with fury. I quickly switched the call to FaceTime and pointed the camera down at the ground below. “Look at this! The bodies on the ground are our classmates! I already called 911! The situation is critical, and you’re the only one I can reach!” “I’m begging you, come save us!” Tristan looked annoyed. The video feed was pitch black, only showing a few sparks of fire, which wasn’t enough to convince him. “Nice disaster movie setup. Looks just like it does on my 120-inch TV at home. Let me tell you, filing a false police report is a crime! I know you’re tight with Nora, but there has to be a limit to this nonsense!” Nora couldn’t listen anymore. She screamed through her tears. “We aren’t faking this! Why won’t you believe us?!” “Stop yelling. You’re so annoying.” Tristan remained entirely unmoved. “I’m hanging up.” I screamed in desperation: “Don’t trust Nolan! He snuck those fireworks onto the roof to surprise Aria! He locked the front and back doors so the RA wouldn’t catch him!” “Don’t hang up! Don’t! You live in the campus dorms too! Just step outside and look, you’ll see it!” I thought this might finally make him realize the truth. But instead, his words grew even sharper. “Harper, the Student Council members all went home after our meeting. None of us are sleeping in the dorms tonight. Whatever petty drama you girls have going on, figure it out yourselves. Don’t drag the rest of the school into it!” “Aria is innocent and pure. She isn’t jealous and vindictive like you two. No wonder Nolan chose her over you.” My heart plummeted into an abyss. Nora looked at me, paralyzed, her eyes turning ice-cold. No wonder. No wonder Tristan couldn’t hear the massive explosions. He wasn’t on campus. I tried to comfort Nora. “Don’t be scared, we’ll find a way.” I continued to beg Tristan. “Then please, call Nolan! He won’t believe us, but tell him to come back and open the doors!” “This is life or death, I wouldn’t lie about this!” 04 Tristan’s finger hovered over the ‘end call’ button, hesitating. He knew I wasn’t the type to joke around, especially not about the lives of our entire dorm. Just then, a gentle voice filtered through the speaker. It was Tristan’s mother. “Son, it’s late. A classmate wouldn’t bother you unless it was something serious. And if it’s life or death… what if it’s true?” Hearing this, I felt a glimmer of hope and pleaded with him even more desperately. “Please, save them!” Tristan let out a breath and said, “Fine. I’ll be generous and believe you this once.” “I’ll call Nolan from my other phone to see what’s going on. Don’t hang up.” “But let me warn you, if the situation isn’t exactly as you described, I will report you to the Dean.” Nora and I wept with relief, as if we could already see the dorm doors being thrown open. Tristan put his other phone on speaker so we could hear. The moment Nolan answered, his voice carried the arrogant confidence of someone who thought he had everything under control. “Did Harper contact you? Don’t let her trick you. Her roommates called me earlier saying my sister was going to burn to death in the dorm. Honestly, they lie so poorly.” “I saw those girls perfectly fine and energetic today. Why wouldn’t Nora just walk downstairs with them instead of sitting there waiting to burn? “Don’t listen to those dramatic women. When they get jealous, they really commit to the act!” Nora was so furious she almost passed out. She couldn’t hold back and screamed at the phone. “Nolan, you bastard! We are family! What do we have to do to make you believe us?!” She couldn’t fathom how the twin brother who had treated her like a princess her whole life had morphed into this unrecognizable monster for another girl. He didn’t just disregard her life; he disregarded the entire building. Nolan scoffed, and I finally learned the truth behind his unwavering confidence. No wonder he had strolled back so casually in my previous life. “We’re at the beach getting ready to set off the rest of the fireworks. I already called the RA, and she said everything was absolutely fine.” Nolan’s attitude was icy, and I was momentarily stunned into silence. But I couldn’t understand it. The RA lived on the ground floor of the dorm. How could she possibly say everything was fine? Before I could speak, Nolan abruptly hung up the phone. Tristan, who had momentarily believed me, turned his tone to pure ice. “You guys really are just putting on a show. Disturbing my sleep in the middle of the night. Tomorrow morning, I’m going straight to the Dean. We’ll see how the university handles you!” The intense heat from my wet clothes was basically boiling me alive. My head was spinning, and Nora had already passed out. We wouldn’t last much longer. Despair washed over me. I screamed into the phone. “Tristan! If we wait until morning, it will be too late! The ones getting expelled won’t be us, it’ll be you and Nolan!” Tristan was about to hang up, but his mother’s voice stopped him again. He took all his anger out on me. “Still committing to the bit? You might have actually fooled someone else. Let’s see who gets expelled when the Dean finds out you’re just throwing a tantrum!” “Let me tell you, when morning comes, the school will notify your families. I’ll tell your grandmother exactly what you did. You’ll be crying then!” 05 I cried tears of pure despair and helplessness. He thought I was shedding tears of regret. “Harper, what are you crying for in the middle of the night? Save your energy for when you get suspended. You’re the Vice President. You’re supposed to be a good student, but you’re just a two-faced troublemaker.” Even if I died, it didn’t matter. But Nora had a happy family waiting for her. Tristan listened to my pathetic sobs without a shred of sympathy. “You’re destroying your own future by playing these games with Nora. Did you ever think about your grandmother, who scraped together every penny just to send you to college?” The building tilted even further. The sound of snapping rebar felt like a death sentence. But Tristan couldn’t see any of it. To him, we were just watching a disaster movie on a projector and putting on a performance for his phone camera. Suddenly, a phone dropped by one of our fleeing roommates started ringing wildly. It was an unknown number. I joyfully answered it and put it on speaker. An urgent, professional voice came through. “Is this Harper and Nora? This is the Fire Department. We have arrived at your dorm building. Our crews are currently fighting the blaze, and we are deploying aerial ladder trucks to rescue any survivors. Can you confirm your exact location?” “Let me brief you on the situation. Your dorm building is on the verge of collapse. Most of the load-bearing walls have been warped by the intense heat. You don’t have much time left!” It was only then that I realized the chaotic, agonizing screams for help from the lower floors had fallen silent at some point. I yelled into my own phone desperately. “Send your men to break open the main doors on the first floor immediately! Everyone from the entire building is crushed against those doors waiting to be saved! You still have time to save them!” Hearing this, Tristan’s shocked voice echoed from his phone. His stubbornness finally cracked. “The dorm is really on fire?! Harper, how are you and Nora doing?!” I had inhaled a lot of thick smoke. I choked out a response. “Nora is unconscious. The fire is spreading incredibly fast. The walls on our floor are scorching hot.” The firefighter urgently reminded me. “Harper, please give me your exact location! We’ve already sent crews to the first floor! I need to pinpoint your room!” “We are on the 4th floor, on the balcony facing the track field! Please, hurry!” “Also, the main doors on the first floor are padlocked. You’ll need…” It was getting hard to breathe. Tears and mucus streamed down my face. Nora’s face was noticeably turning blue. I frantically patted her cheeks. “Nora, wake up! We’re saved! The firefighters are here, just hold on…” 06 Tristan’s voice trembled with panic as he blamed himself over the phone. “Harper, I should have believed you. If I had been sleeping in the dorms today, if I had just listened and opened the doors, everyone would have been saved. If anything happens to you, it’s my fault…” A profound sadness washed over me. I fought through the pain to reply. “It’s too late for ‘ifs’! Nora’s life is hanging by a thread, stop playing the hindsight hero!” Just then, I heard someone calling out. “Are you Harper?! We’re here to get you out!” Through the thick smoke, I saw a firefighter ascending toward us in the bucket of a ladder truck. “I found them! One victim is unconscious and requires immediate medical attention!” He jumped onto the balcony and helped me toward the bucket. “I’ll get you down first, then come back for your friend!” Holding my wet clothes, I knew I could hold out a little longer. I insisted he take Nora first. Time was critical, so he strapped Nora onto his back and began the descent. Soon after, the firefighter returned and carried me down to the track field. Breathing in the fresh, cool air, listening to the approaching sirens of the ambulances, I felt like I had been given a second chance at life. This was my second life. On the still-connected phone, Tristan had heard everything. “Harper, are you and Nora safe?” I sneered internally, letting my anger seep into my voice. “We are perfectly safe. So we won’t be disturbing your precious sleep in the middle of the night anymore.” I moved to hang up. Tristan seemed to sense my intent. His tone was urgent. “Don’t hang up yet! My driver sped me over here. I am giving you my most sincere apology. I’m sorry, Harper. As Student Body President, I failed to act responsibly when you sought my help.” “It’s a sin that I allowed you and all our classmates to suffer this tragedy.” I didn’t hide my absolute disgust. “Thank God the fire department arrived. Otherwise, when the sun came up, you wouldn’t be petitioning the Dean to suspend us—you’d be watching over our corpses while you got expelled!” “After tonight, I finally understand. In your eyes, poor college students like me who bust our asses to succeed are just brainless idiots who would joke about the lives of our entire dorm and destroy our own futures just to play petty jealousy games!” “Thank God Nora broke up with you. If she hadn’t, I would have forced her to!” Tristan hurriedly tried to do damage control, but his tone still carried its usual arrogant weight. “I already apologized! Your attitude right now is completely uncalled for. Do you have any manners at all?” “I know you went through something traumatic and you have a grudge against me, but even so, you need to control your emotions!” I stared blankly at Nora being loaded into an ambulance, and my consciousness finally faded. The curse word that was sitting on the tip of my tongue never made it out. “We have a student collapsed! Get her in the ambulance, quick!”

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During the year I was genuinely starving, I worked for Caleb. I copied his notes all day in exchange for a single meal. Years later, after college, Caleb came to find me. “Two million dollars. Come here. You’re going to be my fiancée.” 01 Back in high school, my mom refused to give me any money. Not a single cent. She said if I was so stubborn about going to high school, I shouldn’t be afraid of starving. But I went anyway, clutching the twenty dollars I had secretly saved up. I stretched that twenty dollars for half a month, living as frugally as possible. When the money ran out, I just drank water. Back then, our classroom didn’t even have a water dispenser. I chugged cold, bottled water on an empty stomach. It was autumn, the weather was turning chilly, and it felt like my stomach was freezing over. I could hear the water sloshing in my stomach with every step. I went hungry for three days like that. At fourteen, starving for three days makes you want to take a bite out of a passing person. I was so hungry I even chewed on some grass by the sidewalk to see if it tasted like anything. When I was on the verge of passing out, Caleb was eating lunch next to me. I stared at him. He turned his head and met my gaze. I didn’t move; I just stared blankly at his food. Caleb looked creeped out. He quietly asked if I wanted to eat with him. My eyes instantly lit up. “Can I?” He let out a breath of relief and nodded. “Eat! My mom packed way too much for me, I can’t finish it anyway…” Later, Caleb told me that the look in my eyes didn’t say “I want to eat your food”; it said “I want to eat you.” He was so freaked out he felt like giving me his lunch was the only way to save his own life. For a long time, I basically worked for Caleb. I copied his notes during class and wiped down his desk during breaks. I didn’t get much in exchange—one meal here, two meals there. He started bringing an extra portion of food for me every day. I’d split it between breakfast, lunch, and dinner, but I still wasn’t full. So Caleb started sneaking me the snacks he brought: “This is beef jerky my mom brought back from her trip over the holidays. It should still be good.” I took it and chewed, chewed, chewed. It was tough as leather. I kept chewing, chewing, chewing. “This is a mooncake from the Mid-Autumn Festival.” I took it. It was the mixed nut flavor. Crunch, crunch, chew, chew, chew. “These are digestive enzyme tablets my mom bought.” I hesitated for a second, then quickly tore the package open. Chew, chew, chew… Caleb would sneak me these things during class, and I would secretly eat them during class. Later, during a break, he stared at me wide-eyed. “You ate two whole boxes of digestive enzymes?!” “Yeah…” He looked completely exasperated. “Maya, I’m not going to end up accidentally killing you by feeding you, am I?” I didn’t know if he would accidentally kill me, but I knew I was about to starve to death. 02 For a long time, I survived on the food Caleb brought me. Until Thanksgiving break. Initially, I wanted to go home for Thanksgiving. But the moment I got home, my mom grabbed me by the scruff of the neck and dragged me out the door. She wouldn’t let me in. My mom said that for every day I went to high school, she wouldn’t recognize me as her daughter. Other girls my age were already working in factories down South, but I was apparently too delicate for that. Since I thought I was so capable and refused to listen, I shouldn’t rely on the family. I had to support myself from now on and shouldn’t bother coming home. I sniffled, standing awkwardly at the door, clutching my backpack. The smell of roasted turkey drifted out from the house, while the front door remained wide open. My mom brought the turkey out, and my younger siblings scrambled to get a piece. My little sister, clutching a piece of turkey, glanced at me and got smacked by my mom. “Eat your food! What are you looking at her for!” My sister froze, sitting there obediently. I lowered my head. The dim light from the house stretched my shadow, making it look as dejected as I felt. Later, my mom locked the door. The light was gone. I hugged my backpack and walked away. I spent that night sleeping at the bus station. The next morning, I woke up and saw Caleb. He was supposed to be going on a trip with his parents. When he looked up at the ticket counter and saw me, he jumped. “What are you doing here?” “My mom wouldn’t let me stay at home. It’s warmer here at the station.” “Holy shit. Is she your real mom?” “Yes.” “…” Caleb didn’t get on his bus that day. I don’t know what he said to his parents, but he sent them off on their trip and stayed behind. After waving goodbye to them, he turned around, looked at me, and sighed. “Come on, let’s go to my place.” He walked ahead, and I hurriedly put on my backpack and followed him. Caleb was two years older than me, tall with long legs. For every step he took, I had to take three. After a few steps, he turned back and took my backpack from me. I looked up at him, and he laughed when he met my gaze. “Maya, I must have the worst luck in the world. How did I run into you? My parents were supposed to take me to the beach! And now I’m carrying your backpack.” “I’m sorry.” “Forget it, forget it. Are you hungry?” “Starving…” “Alright then. While your boy here still has some cash, let’s go get some real food.” 03 I stayed at Caleb’s house for seven days. Caleb’s house was nothing like mine. My family had four kids; the older ones cried, the younger ones fussed. Four kids crammed into one room, it was always a chaotic mess. He was an only child. The whole house was spotlessly clean and beautifully decorated. The neighborhood had landscaping, the building had an elevator, the apartment had a guest room, the balcony had plants. The only downside was the lack of food. I woke up starving in the middle of the night and couldn’t find a single bite to eat. Not even a digestive enzyme tablet. Finally, I locked my eyes on the small orange tree on the balcony. I stared at the oranges for half an hour until Caleb walked past the balcony, saw me, and screamed: “!!! What the fuck, is that a ghost?!” I froze and turned to look at Caleb. He finally realized it was me. “No, wait, Maya, what are you doing squatting on the balcony? Oh! The oranges… if you want to eat them, just pick them!” Caleb was so scared he actually teared up that day. I cried too, hugging the orange, moved to tears. This orange was so good! So sweet. The next day, Caleb took me out to buy groceries and snacks, repeatedly warning me: “Maya, you are absolutely forbidden from squatting on the balcony in the middle of the night, in the dark, with your hair down, looking all creepy.” I nodded vigorously, looking at him with deep gratitude. He paused when he met my gaze, and after a long moment, he chuckled. “Let’s go! Time to go home.” When we got back that day, I cooked. After cooking, I did my homework. After finishing my homework, I tutored Caleb. Caleb didn’t care. He slouched there, looking at his notebook, barely listening. Later, he suddenly remembered something, grabbed my ID card, and asked, “Maya, you’re in high school, why are you only 14?” I thought about it before explaining seriously. “I skipped grades when I was little. I didn’t go to kindergarten; I went straight into first grade at six. After first grade, I transferred and went straight into third grade. So I’m two years younger than the rest of you.” “Tsk, what was the rush?” “My parents said I could start working at 16. When I was little, I thought if I could just get into college before I turned 16, I wouldn’t have to go work in a factory. But high school costs tuition, and my parents still want me to go work. They said it’s not as strict outside as it is at home; as long as I go, I can earn money even at 14.” “…” Caleb was silent for a long time that day. Later, he laughed out of sheer frustration: “Fourteen… your parents are really a piece of work.” I had originally wanted to find a part-time job over Thanksgiving break, but since I wasn’t 16, nobody would hire me. Finally, I found a gig putting up flyers. It paid forty bucks a day. Caleb had nothing to do, so he found a part-time job too: catching people putting up flyers. I worked for half a day, got caught by Caleb, and got lectured for the other half. When we finished, I got my forty bucks, and Caleb got sixty. I looked at my forty, then at his sixty. He raised an eyebrow and shoved his sixty into his pocket. I held my forty, hesitating for a moment, but finally gave it to him. “Caleb, let me buy you dinner.” He froze. After a long moment, he took the forty bucks. We went to a small diner near his neighborhood. Two bowls of noodles, a plate of steamed dumplings, and a plate of steamed buns. It cost twenty bucks. I don’t remember the rest; I just remember being very full that day. 04 Thanksgiving break bled into the weekend. I worked part-time for a total of six days. Excluding the day we ate out, I made a total of $220. The first day back at school was the happiest day for me because my financial aid came through. I scraped together a thousand dollars, counting the money over and over again. Then I went to borrow Caleb’s phone. Caleb asked me what I was doing. “The tuition for my sophomore year was borrowed. I borrowed it from the older girl next door, and I need to pay her back.” He looked confused: “How much can you pay back?” “Seven hundred and fifty.” After paying back the money, I still had two hundred and fifty dollars left. That was enough for me to survive for a month. Next weekend, I could look for other part-time jobs. I finally caught my breath and even bought myself a new backpack. My old backpack was torn to shreds and tied together with knots. The new one was bought online for ten bucks. It was huge and could hold a lot. Caleb looked at me and sighed that day. He was my desk mate, and he still frequently brought me food. He said his mom cooked a lot, and bringing a little extra didn’t hurt. Caleb was a very good person, and his mom was a very good person too. Because after we got back from Thanksgiving break, every meal Caleb brought me had a fried egg in it. The kind of fried egg that was perfectly cooked and sprinkled with little green onions. The following weekend, Caleb asked me: “Are you going home this weekend?” I shook my head. “My mom won’t let me.” “Perfect. Pack your stuff this afternoon; we’re going to my place.” “…” Our school had a strict schedule: class started at 6 AM and ended at 9 PM, six days a week. We only got Sunday off, starting from 5 PM on Saturday. As soon as school let out, I packed my bag and left with Caleb. I only found out when we got there that Caleb’s cousin was getting married, and they were starting the preparations the night before. I helped out with Caleb that evening. After we finished, we had a big communal meal, and I slept in the same room as Caleb’s younger cousin. I woke up in the middle of the night and found Caleb sitting in the living room playing video games. I walked closer. He saw me, locked his phone, and asked, “What’s wrong?” “Why aren’t you sleeping?” “Can’t sleep…” “Why?” He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “My mom recently… she wants me to study abroad. She says my grades aren’t good enough to get anywhere in the States.” After he finished speaking, he looked down at his phone. I sensibly didn’t press the issue, but when I went back to my room, I stared at the ceiling and couldn’t help but think: When Caleb leaves, will I not be able to find anyone to eat with when I’m hungry? The next morning, we got up early to pick up the bride. I rode in a car with Caleb’s cousin. It was a traditional, elegant wedding. The bride was radiant, her smile bright. I stared in awe. It wasn’t until the bride’s mother handed me a red envelope with a smile that I suddenly realized why Caleb brought me here. The little girl who helped pick up the bride got a hundred-dollar tip, plus a delicious meal. That day, Caleb was one of the groomsmen. Tall, long-legged, wearing a sharp suit—even his hair was styled to perfection. I chewed on some candy, watching him stand on the elevated platform. Later, he came down and waved at me. I ran over, and he stuffed a handful of chocolates into my hands. “Come on, come on, grab your backpack. Let’s go backstage and raid the snacks…” He stopped mid-sentence, looking at me and laughing. “Who did your hair and makeup? This puffy dress, these two little space buns… you look like an anime character.” “What anime character?” “A character from a game. I gotta say, it’s pretty cute.” I didn’t understand, so I just opened a chocolate and chewed, chewed, chewed. 05 Caleb studied really hard for a while, but then gave up again. He was too lazy. I kept copying notes for him every day. I took my own notes during class, and copied his for him during breaks. Whenever I had a spare moment, I would gnaw on a piece of bread and read. I had several rolls stuffed in my desk drawer. I’d eat a little when I got hungry. It wasn’t just me; in high school, everyone in the class got hungry easily. Breakfast was at 7 AM, and lunch wasn’t until 12 PM. But we were growing kids, and many of us started getting hungry around 10 AM. The school cafeteria didn’t make enough bread, so sometimes when I was eating, Caleb would ask for a piece. Then the guy in front of me would ask for a piece, and the girl behind me would ask for a piece. Eventually, it became a habit. I’d break off a piece, and the rest of the bread would get passed around the room. By the time it made a full circle and came back to me, it had transformed into a few pieces of beef jerky or half a bag of chips. Life in high school was incredibly busy. Busy writing essays, busy doing practice tests—the workbooks were never-ending. Time flew by. Soon after New Year’s, my sophomore year ended. Even though it was time for the holidays, I still couldn’t go home. I didn’t want to hold a grudge against my mom, but I still wanted to go to school. Back then, I was young but a bit stubborn. I just felt that as long as I could go to school, my life wouldn’t only be about working in a factory. I didn’t go home for the holidays. Later, I found a factory rushing to meet a deadline that was short-staffed and willing to hire me. I worked twelve-hour shifts a day for fifty bucks. I worked for twenty days, and they paid me a thousand dollars. On New Year’s Eve, the factory gave us the day off. Caleb came to pick me up on an electric scooter. We rode the scooter halfway across the city. The river on the outskirts was frozen solid. Some people were ice skating, others were setting off fireworks. Daytime fireworks aren’t as bright, but they were still beautiful enough. We played for a long time until it got dark and all the shops closed. Caleb took me to his family’s old estate for New Year’s. His family was huge, with seventy or eighty people celebrating together. There were six tables for the New Year’s Eve dinner. I blended in with the crowd. No one paid me any mind, and no one really noticed me. Later, when it was time to give New Year’s greetings, the kids all knelt in a row, and Caleb pushed me down to kneel with them. The adults handed out red envelopes one by one, and they gave me one too. In the dimly lit courtyard, some people looked at me hesitantly, but they still gave me one. Later, I heard someone ask: “Why does that little girl look unfamiliar? Whose kid is she?” “Oh, her! Caleb brought her. Probably a cousin from his mom’s side!” I was no cousin. My face flushed bright red. I ran over, clutching a handful of cash, and shoved it at Caleb. He had been trying to figure out how to light a firework and jumped when I approached him. “Maya, why are you giving me money?” “This is your family’s New Year’s money. I can’t take it.” Caleb shoved the money back into my coat pocket. “If they gave it to you, keep it. Step back, I’m gonna light this.” First came the firecrackers, then the brilliant fireworks. Everyone gathered around. Caleb grabbed my collar and pulled me back a bit. “Maya, want to make a wish? The New Year is here.” “I want to be number one in the school.” “Idiot, you can’t say your wish out loud.” “Really? Let me make another one then.” For the New Year, I want… I want it to be just like last year, happy and joyful… and I want Caleb not to leave. 06 In reality, people can only make one wish for the New Year. The second wish didn’t come true. Caleb left during the summer after my sophomore year. I was working part-time at a convenience store that summer. He came in to buy a pack of cigarettes. I was shocked: “You smoke?” He looked confused: “Even though our class is all good students, you didn’t actually think I was a good student, did you?” “…” Our class was one of the school’s honors classes, and the rules were incredibly strict. To maintain the class’s reputation, almost everyone was admitted based on merit, and Caleb was the only one placed in our class through connections. Caleb smoked outside the convenience store that day. I asked him if he had eaten. I was really good at heating up Jamaican patties; did he want one? He said sure. I heated one up for him, and he put out his cigarette. The patty was hot, so he tossed it back and forth between his hands. Later, when the patty cooled down a bit, he sat leisurely beside me, taking small bites. After finishing the patty, he elegantly wiped his mouth, then looked up: “Maya, how much was it?” I shook my head. “It’s fine. It’s on me.” He laughed, then reached into his pocket and placed a hundred and sixty dollars on the counter. “Alright then. Thanks. But take this.” I panicked. “I don’t need this much.” “Take it! I won’t be seeing you again. Maya, goodbye!” Caleb said that and rode off on his electric scooter. I stared blankly at the money, taking a long time to process it. Caleb was really leaving. For a long time, I felt a little sad, probably because I knew no one would bring me food anymore. Nothing much happened during my junior year. I went to class and studied. Whenever I had free time, I looked for part-time jobs I could do. If I couldn’t find any, I went to the library to do practice tests. As long as people can eat, they can survive. Occasionally, when I had time, I would look up. The city had planted many Mimosa trees, and their pink flowers drifted down like tassels. They smelled sweet. The laundry detergent Caleb’s family used had that exact same scent. When you got close, it was a faint, sweet fragrance. 07 At the beginning of my senior year, I saw my mom. She wanted to take me back home, saying there was a family emergency and I had to go back. I didn’t want to go back. I shook her off and stumbled my way to the homeroom teacher’s office. The homeroom teacher stopped her and asked what the emergency was. I was a senior now; it wasn’t a good time to take a leave of absence. In the end, my mom couldn’t say anything and just glared at me viciously. Watching her walk away, I had an inexplicable, ominous premonition. A long time later, I realized why I felt something was wrong. During senior year, we had mandatory review classes during both winter and summer breaks, so I couldn’t work part-time. The homeroom teacher applied for a school grant on top of my annual financial aid. The main benefit was free meals and waived tuition. I didn’t leave the school grounds for an entire semester, and my mom didn’t come looking for me. On the days of the college entrance exams, school buses took us to the various testing centers. After finishing the first exam, I walked out and saw my dad. He tried to grab me, but I fought him off with everything I had and hid in the testing center’s security booth. I didn’t eat lunch that day. I sat in the security booth for two hours, not daring to take a single step outside. I just sat there reading my books. It wasn’t until the exams were over that day and the school bus came to pick me up that I finally let out a sigh of relief. The exams lasted for two days. When they were finally over, I felt like I was finally free. I just stared up at the sky. The sky was a clear, brilliant blue. There were a lot of people selling watermelon outside the testing center. I was so hungry I ate six slices. Later, on my way back to school, I saw my dad again. In my memory, I rarely saw my dad; he was always working out of town and only came back occasionally. He was a man of few words who rarely spoke. But I was terrified of him. He hit people way too hard. If my mom hit me, it was just because I was disobedient; when my dad hit me, it felt like he was genuinely trying to kill me. I wanted to run that day, but I couldn’t get away. He grabbed me like a little chick and tossed me into his beat-up van. I screamed, and he slapped me. Passersby looked over, but he had already locked the car doors. The doors locked. I huddled in the car, timidly calling out, “Dad.” My dad looked at me expressionlessly: “Behave.” The car drove further and further away, winding through mountain roads. I forced a smile and asked: “Dad, where are we going?” “Didn’t you refuse to work in a factory? I’m sending you off to get married.” Married… I stared blankly out the car window. The car drove deep into the mountains; outside were dense, impenetrable woods. My parents were smart. Now that I had graduated high school, the school wouldn’t care about me anymore. Even if I went missing, no one would call the police or bother looking for me because of my disappearance. That day, I asked a question I had wondered about for a long time: “Dad, am I your biological daughter?” “Yeah.” “Then why don’t you and Mom love me?” He spat in disgust: “Ungrateful brat. It wasn’t easy for your mom and me to raise you. You have younger siblings at home. You’re the oldest. If you don’t get married, where are we going to get the money to feed and educate your siblings?” “I can make more money for you when I go to college.” “Don’t even think about it. Once you go to college, it’s not even guaranteed you’ll ever come back.” When the car stopped that day, I was exceptionally obedient. I went into the house obediently, smiled obediently, and obediently let strangers evaluate me from head to toe. Later, someone gave my dad fifty thousand dollars.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “406288”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I was the canary specifically cultivated by the CEO of the Sterling Group for his younger brother. My job was to use “love” to control Julian Sterling—to keep him from street racing, fighting, and messing around. It worked perfectly for a long time, and I naturally enjoyed two streams of income. That is, until the day I put on my usual tearful, pleading act: “Julian, please don’t race tonight. I’m really scared…” Julian, however, carelessly lit a cigarette. “Relax. Your man is the best.” A premonition hit me. I turned my head and saw the prize for tonight’s race. A girl wearing a long white dress. Dammit. My double salary is gone. I silently pulled out my phone and started drafting my resignation letter to his older brother. 01 Julian Sterling was a notorious troublemaker. His usual hobbies included, but were not limited to: Street racing and wrecking other people’s cars. Getting into brawls and putting other rich heirs in the hospital. Accepting any woman who threw herself at him, causing high-society catfights that inevitably ended with complaints to the Sterling family. Because of Julian’s extensive rap sheet, he was constantly trending on social media, which frequently caused the Sterling Group’s stock prices to tank. Eventually, an executive assistant brought me before the eldest Sterling son. Arthur Sterling sat with his long legs crossed, calmly assessing me. The assistant spoke respectfully: “This is the most beautiful girl at the Diamond Club.” After a long, heavy silence. Arthur indifferently withdrew his gaze, his long, elegant fingers filling out a check. The assistant handed it to me. I glanced at the number on the check and paused. Then I smiled. “Are you looking for a sugar baby?” The assistant clarified, “It’s for the Second Young Master.” Then came the list of instructions. For instance, Julian liked girls with long hair who wore white dresses. He disliked girls with sharp, aggressive personalities who talked back to him. He responded well to softness but rebelled against strictness. After the assistant finished, Arthur spoke his first sentence. His tone was as cold as ever: “You will receive this exact amount every month, transferred directly to your bank account.” He was absolutely certain I wouldn’t refuse. I pinched the edge of the check. After a moment, I gave Arthur a bright, radiant smile. “Deal.” He was right. I definitely wasn’t going to refuse. 02 Later, I was strategically placed in Julian’s path. The third time he played the hero and saved me, he looked down at me and smirked. “Little girl, it seems we’re meant to be.” I timidly lowered my head and whispered, “I’m sorry. I’ve troubled you again.” Julian clicked his tongue and used a finger to hook a strand of hair by my face. “Being too pretty isn’t always a good thing. Why are you always getting bullied?” The night wind caught the hem of my white dress. My soft, long hair fluttered gently in the breeze. My eyes welled up with red, and after a long pause, I let out a soft “Mhm.” “I… I’m used to it. It’s been like this since I was little.” Julian froze. Just then, a few of his friends stumbled out of the bar, looking around. “Julian, what are you doing in this dark alley?” One of them sized me up, grinning as he reached out to touch my face. “Where’d you find this beauty? She’s so fresh.” Julian slapped the hand away, his brow furrowed deeply. “Back off.” The other guys immediately tried to smooth things over. “Are you blind? Look at her, she’s obviously Julian’s girl.” Once those guys awkwardly shuffled away, My tears finally spilled over. I grabbed the cuff of Julian’s sleeve. He didn’t pull away. I looked up at him, my eyes full of vulnerable, stammering hope. “Because you were here, they didn’t dare bully me.” Julian curled a finger and wiped the tear from the corner of my eye. My eyelashes fluttered. Gathering my courage, I asked, “D-do you have a girlfriend?” The night wind was biting, making me shiver slightly. Julian bent down and effortlessly scooped me up into his arms. His tone was careless. “Not right now. And I don’t plan on having one in the future, either.” I stared at him blankly. Julian carried me toward his sports car parked at the intersection. Many eyes turned our way. Embarrassed, I buried my face in his chest, mumbling, “It’s okay. I… I don’t need a title.” My answer was exactly what Julian expected. After all, a young girl’s love and dependence are always so obvious and passionate. Julian let out a lazy smirk. After placing me in the passenger seat, he pressed a kiss to my lips. “Alright.” 03 Everything went smoothly, exactly as planned. In everyone’s eyes… I was beautiful, gentle, and completely unaware of Julian’s wealth. I just purely, innocently loved Julian the man. I loved him so much that I worried about him constantly. I hated it when he raced or fought, terrified he would put himself in danger. I hated seeing other girls around him because I loved him so much, I was terrified he would fall for someone else. But since I was just a girl without an official title, I couldn’t throw a tantrum. I could only cry and timidly beg him. Fortunately, Julian actually liked me quite a bit. As long as I cried, he would compromise on anything. He stayed out of trouble for a very long time, shocking everyone who knew him. Julian took me shopping, to the movies, on trips to take photos, and we kissed and slept together every day. His friends all said he had changed, that he had finally settled down. Arthur must have been pretty satisfied too, because he tripled my salary. I became the cherished canary in Julian’s palm, spoiled and pampered. In the eyes of many, I was the prime candidate to become the future Mrs. Julian Sterling. Honestly, I wasn’t sure if Julian truly cared about me, or if it was just the novelty of the situation. But I knew for a fact that Arthur Sterling would never allow a gold-digger who used to serve drinks at the Diamond Club to marry into the Sterling family. Even if I was brought directly to Arthur on my very first day working at the club. In the eyes of these elite, golden boys, just being allowed to squeeze into their circle was a privilege I should be grateful for. I couldn’t, and shouldn’t, hope for anything more. Arthur felt this way. Julian felt this way, too. So, when I once again put on my tearful, pleading act, begging Julian not to race… He carelessly lit a cigarette. “Relax. Your man is the best.” This was the first time—outside of the bedroom—that he had refused me. My eyes reddened as I looked at him. “Julian.” But Julian didn’t spare me another glance. He lazily put out the cigarette and walked toward his sleek, black sports car, which he hadn’t touched in ages. His back was tall and straight. The onlookers whistled excitedly; after all, this was Julian’s first race in over a year. I suddenly had a premonition. I slowly turned my head. A girl wearing a long white dress was being pulled by several men, dragged up to the podium where the prize for the race was usually displayed. She uneasily lowered her eyelashes, looking incredibly pitiful. In that moment, a complex mix of emotions washed over me. A wealthy heiress standing nearby glanced at me, playing with her manicured nails. “A few days ago when you were sick and didn’t go to the bar with Julian, that girl was serving drinks. She was being harassed, and Julian saved her.” I blinked slowly. Digesting the information in that sentence. In a span of ten seconds, a suspicion flashed through my mind. Could Arthur have customized another perfect canary for Julian? Impossible. Arthur would never do something so sloppy. Besides… this girl’s face showed fear, but also stubborn defiance. She didn’t have my practiced, artificial fragility. I sighed and looked up at the sky with profound sadness. My eyes filled with tears, though it was purely muscle memory. I had cried so much it had become a conditioned reflex. But I was genuinely sad. My double salary was gone. Seeing me like this, the heiress scoffed coldly. “You really don’t know your place. It was only a matter of time.” I silently unlocked my phone. I searched for “How to write a resignation letter.” How to write it professionally yet with deep emotional sincerity, so I could squeeze one last payout from Arthur. After all, I had worked so incredibly hard. 04 Julian won. The other rich kid’s car spun out and crashed. The scene devolved into absolute chaos until the sound of approaching ambulances grew louder. The others didn’t dare blame Julian, so they took their anger out on the girl. “If something happens to Liam, you’re dead meat! Just wait and see.” The girl stumbled back a few steps, trembling with fear. Julian stepped in front of her with a cold sneer. “You guys are real tough, taking it out on her.” I stared at them for a few seconds. Then I walked over, took off the jacket Julian had draped over my shoulders earlier, and placed it over the girl’s shoulders. I said gently, “It’s cold tonight. Don’t catch a chill.” Facing Julian’s probing gaze, I smiled perfectly. “When you helped me back then, it was on a night exactly like this.” The girl stared at me blankly. Then she turned to look at Julian. “Julian, is she…” Julian didn’t answer. He just lowered his eyes, staring fixedly at me. Being stared at like that, I couldn’t even maintain my fake smile. I could only manage a bitter, strained twitch of my lips. After all… With this incident, forget a resignation bonus—my salary for this month was probably going to get docked by Arthur. Sigh… Docked or not, I’ve saved up quite a bit. But wait, I wouldn’t be held legally responsible for this, would I?! The thought sent a shiver down my spine. The more I thought about it, the more plausible it seemed, and my expression grew increasingly panicked. The girl nervously clutched Julian’s shirt. “W-what’s wrong with her? Does she hate me…?” Julian finally pulled his gaze from my face, his tone flat as he comforted the girl: “No. Don’t be afraid.” I walked away like a soulless ghost. There were still many people watching the drama unfold. After all, they hadn’t expected the day I’d be cast aside to come so soon. Julian didn’t chase after me. The girl was in a cold sweat from the shock, so Julian had someone take her to change her clothes. Actually, I was in a cold sweat too. I pulled out my phone, my sweaty palm smudging the screen. I wiped it on my dress, opened my email, and decisively hit ‘Send’ on the resignation letter I had drafted for Arthur. The language was incredibly earnest, expressing both my utmost dedication to the job and my profound gratitude to Arthur for providing me with the opportunity. I needed to sever ties before I could be held liable! Just then, I received a call from the manager at the Diamond Club. “Chloe, do you have time to come by tomorrow? You left some things in your locker.” I froze for a second, then remembered. “Sure.” After hanging up. I hailed a cab and went back to the apartment I had secretly bought for myself. In order to maintain the perfect skin and energy required to perform for Julian, I rarely stayed up late. But once I finally relaxed… I took out my SIM card, curled up in bed, and played on my phone until dawn. I slept until evening before finally waking up. I popped in a new SIM card, threw on an oversized t-shirt, shorts, and flip-flops, and headed to the Diamond Club completely bare-faced. It had been a long time since I felt this relaxed. When the manager saw me, she froze for a moment, then led me to get my things. She didn’t ask any questions. After grabbing my stuff, I waved goodbye to her. I was just about to turn around. When I heard a familiar voice. “Is this the place?” The male voice was deep and casual. A girl answered softly, “Yes.” The others trailing behind them marveled, “Julian, you’re the best. Coming all this way to stand up for her. Whoever bullied her is screwed.” Julian looked at the manager. “Bring the people who were in the same group as her.” I silently pulled a face mask out of my pocket, lowered my head, and tried to walk the other way. “Chloe?” someone exclaimed in surprise. No way. They could recognize me like this? I frantically ruffled my hair and shook my head wildly. The manager seemed to sense my aversion. She stepped forward with a smile. “Who is that? Young masters and misses, let me show you to your private room first.” I couldn’t help but feel a surge of gratitude. The next second, my wrist was grabbed in a vice grip. Julian’s voice echoed through the opulent lobby, his tone leaving no room for argument: “Look up. Take off the mask.” I stiffened. But I didn’t move. I kept my head down, staring at the floor, pretending I was deaf. The room fell dead silent. Until a fragile voice called out pitifully, “Julian, my stomach hurts.” We remained at an impasse for a few more seconds. Julian finally let go of my hand and walked toward the girl. I walked out step by step, my nerves pulled taut. Terrified that I might still have a part to play in this drama. It wasn’t until I was sitting in the back of a taxi that I finally processed what had just happened. The scent of cedarwood that usually clung to Julian had been replaced by a faint floral perfume. They had been together for a long time… Long enough for their scents to rub off on each other. 05 For the next few days, I did nothing but eat, sleep, play video games, and binge-watch TV shows. Honestly, every second I spent with Julian required a massive amount of energy to maintain my disguise and be the person he wanted me to be. I knew very well that Julian wouldn’t like the real me. I hate wearing white dresses, I hate eating fine dining, and I hate wearing uncomfortable designer heels. I was not his perfect canary. So this life I was living now was absolutely perfect. I gradually snapped out of the funk of losing my high-paying job. Until an intense doomscrolling session brought me to the news that Liam, the heir to the Miller family, was hospitalized with severe injuries. The media was tearing into Julian, calling him a lawless, reckless playboy, and saying the Sterling family needed to take a hard look at themselves for raising such a son. I let out an exaggerated sigh. Looks like they couldn’t bury the story this time. After all, I had heard that the injured Liam Miller was the only heir to the Miller family. His parents had him late in life, and he was incredibly precious to them. It was going to be a bloodbath for the next few days. I was gloating, imagining Arthur completely stressed out trying to clean up Julian’s mess. Until the drama landed right on my doorstep. I wasn’t laughing anymore. I stepped out to buy a watermelon and was grabbed by bodyguards who had been waiting downstairs for God knows how long. They dragged me straight to Arthur’s office. … I don’t know if it was my imagination. But Arthur’s office felt even colder than the last time I was here. He wasn’t exhausted or stressed like I had imagined. Instead, he was as cold and calm as ever. “Long time no see, Ms. Brooks.” I stayed silent for a long moment, then squeaked out guiltily: “Mr. Sterling.” This time, there was no one else in the office besides him and me. “Ms. Brooks, it seems you’ve forgotten what you promised me.” Arthur slightly lifted his chin, his dark eyes locking onto me. I gave an awkward smile. “Julian fell for someone else. He wanted to stand up for the girl he liked. There was nothing I could do.” Arthur didn’t say a word. His gaze carried the condescension of someone accustomed to power. After a long, tense silence, I spoke up slowly: “You could always hire someone else to manage Julian. That girl’s words carry much more weight with him now.” Arthur smirked coldly. “Not everyone is like you, only caring about money.” I froze. My first instinct was that he was insulting me. But he said it without any emotion, seemingly just stating a fact. It looked like Arthur had already approached the girl, but she had refused. “So, you came looking for me to…?” I pursed my lips. Arthur lifted his eyelids, assessing me unhurriedly. Then he said flatly: “The Miller boy. He specifically requested you to be his private nurse.” A nurse? Me? I immediately asked, “Does Julian know?” This was a blatant insult to me, and an insult to Julian. Even if Julian had lost all feelings for me, he wouldn’t allow this. “Your employer is me,” Arthur tapped the desk, his words concise and to the point. Oh, so Julian didn’t know. Arthur wanted to use me to placate Liam and the Miller family’s fury. I sighed helplessly. “Didn’t you see? I resigned, Mr. Sterling.” The office was quiet for a few seconds. I looked up, staring straight at Arthur. “But I could always come back to work. Just a change of position, that’s all.” The underlying implication was: It depends on how much you’re paying. Even though Liam’s request was meant to be humiliating, I honestly didn’t feel humiliated at all. Being a highly-paid private nurse was a much more respectable job than being a sugar baby. Arthur’s expression was unreadable as our eyes met. After a long time, he rubbed his temples. He tore off a check, placed it on the desk, and pushed it toward me. “Fill in the amount yourself.” I suddenly felt a wave of profound emotion. On one hand, I envied Julian for always having someone to clean up his messes. On the other hand, I marveled that Julian had really messed with the wrong guy this time. I happily picked up a pen and added a very long string of zeros after the first digit. 06 I knocked on the door of the hospital room. A voice drifted lazily from inside. “Come in.” Pushing the door open, I saw a man with his left arm in a cast, leaning lazily against the hospital bed. A foreign movie was playing on the TV in front of him. Aside from his pale face and bloodless lips, he looked like he was on a beach vacation. But from what I had gathered about him while I was with Julian, he had always had this laid-back, cynical personality. And most importantly… He was very, very generous with his money. I put on my best professional smile. “Mr. Miller, is there anything you need me to do?” He leisurely scanned me from head to toe. “I thought you’d come in here crying and throwing a tantrum.” It seemed my persona as a fragile canary was deeply ingrained in people’s minds. I let out a soft sigh. “You were injured because of Julian. It’s only right that I do my part to help.” My words were incredibly sincere and earnest. Liam looked at me with a half-smile, clearly doubting the authenticity of my statement. After a long pause, he suddenly dragged out his words: “It’s so hot in here. Help me take my shirt off?” I froze for a second, then obediently lowered my eyes, unbuttoning his hospital gown one button at a time. Revealing his bandaged chest. I asked, “Should I take the pants off too?” This time, it was Liam’s turn to freeze. “Sure.” He answered surprisingly quickly. Me: “…” I shouldn’t have tried to play chicken with him over who was more shameless. But the words were already out there. I scoffed internally, deciding to just go for it, and reached for his waistband. Just then. A low, irritated voice came from the doorway: “Don’t try to stop me. I want to see just how badly he’s hurt. Dammit, always causing trouble for my brother.” Before I could react, the door was kicked open. My body went stiff, my hand still lingering near Liam’s waistband. The loud, chaotic noise outside vanished instantly. In the deafening silence, a chill ran down my spine. It was Liam who broke the deadlock. He smiled warmly, gently pulling my hand away from his pants, his tone intimate. “Alright, alright, there are too many people here. Let’s wait until later.” The next second, a fierce gust of wind from a flying fist swept past. I instinctively turned around and threw myself in front of Liam. The fist stopped one centimeter from my face. I breathed a sigh of relief. I was Liam’s private nurse now; I had to ensure his safety. After all, considering how much I was getting paid, I had to take my job seriously! “Chloe!” A raspy voice, grinding out the syllables, exploded in my ear. Meeting Julian’s furiously bloodshot eyes, I nodded awkwardly. “Julian, good afternoon, good afternoon. What brings you here?” A change in title was necessary. My service target had switched from Julian to Liam. I had to have professional awareness. Julian gripped my hand tightly, his face dark. “Why are you here?” Liam raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you asking a question you already know the answer to?” “Shut up!” Julian snarled, using his other hand to pinch my jaw. It hurt enough to make me gasp. “Chloe, why are you here?” I stayed silent for a moment. I couldn’t exactly say I was hired by his older brother. “I… have a connection with Liam…” I chose my words carefully. “He’s injured, so I came to take care of him.” Liam raised an eyebrow slightly. “Yeah. It was love at first sight.” Julian’s face turned icy. “A connection? Love at first sight? Chloe, you ignore my calls and texts for days, just so you can take care of him?” I pressed my lips together. Liam clicked his tongue. “Don’t yell at her.” The hostility clashed and exploded in the air. Julian grabbed Liam by the collar of his hospital gown, speaking through gritted teeth. “Mind your own business.” The tension was palpable. It felt like Liam was going to get punched any second. But the patient just smiled calmly, not showing a hint of panic. One of the guys following Julian quickly spoke up to diffuse the situation. “Maybe our Chloe is just jealous. She’s throwing a fit to test her place in your heart, Julian.” Julian paused slightly, glancing at me. “Is that true?” I scratched my cheek, answering vaguely, “Uh… I…” “Come back with me.” Julian smirked. “No.” “No.” Liam and I spoke at the exact same time. If I didn’t complete the job I agreed to, what if Arthur demanded his check back? Julian laughed out of pure anger. “What kind of tantrum is this? Are you addicted to making me look like a cuck?” The guy next to him whispered to me, “Julian helping that girl was only because she reminded him of how you used to be. At the end of the day, he was helping you, Chloe.” Me: ? I was bewildered for a moment, realizing this guy was trying to make excuses for Julian. But I didn’t care. I was actually getting pretty annoyed. My execution of the innocent, devoted canary persona in the early stages was too perfect, leading them all to genuinely believe I was just throwing a jealous tantrum. Just then, a stroke of genius hit me. I covered my face and started sobbing loudly. The others froze. I gasped out between sobs, “Julian, you hurt someone, and it’s your fault. I have to take care of Liam to atone for your sins…” Julian frowned, his gaze locked tightly onto me. The others suddenly understood. “Looks like our Chloe hasn’t changed. She’s still as kind-hearted as ever. She just wants to take responsibility for your actions. Don’t be mad, Julian.” “Dammit, who asked you to atone for anything?” Julian cursed under his breath, grabbing me and pulling me toward the door. “I’ll hire ten nurses to take care of him until he dies.” The bodyguards stationed outside the room blocked Julian and me. Liam’s voice floated over. “You can leave if you want, but don’t take my person.” Julian sneered. “She is Chloe, and she is my woman. Isn’t that common knowledge?” “Oh.” A soft chuckle came from inside the room. “Why don’t you ask her if she wants to go with you?” All eyes instantly fell on me. Waiting for my answer. I silently pulled my arm out of Julian’s grip. Tears streamed uncontrollably down my face. With red eyes, I met Julian’s gaze. “Julian, I have to take responsibility for what you did.” Julian stood frozen in place. The air grew suffocatingly silent. “I’m sorry…” I muttered with my head down. “Julian… I’m sorry…” Julian stared at me fixedly for a few seconds. Then he turned and walked away. Without saying a single word. The people who had come with him followed him out. The last one to leave looked at me with exasperation. “Chloe, is it really that hard to just apologize and go back with him?” I didn’t answer, maintaining my heartbroken persona as I walked back into the hospital room. And met Liam’s meaningful gaze. “Wow.” He said casually. “That was a very convincing act.” I wiped my tears away and shot him a glare. I picked up an apple from the bedside table and started peeling it. I was here as a private nurse, not a sugar baby. Naturally, I didn’t need to put on a sweet, gentle act for Liam. “How much did Arthur pay you?” Liam asked casually. I played dumb. “Who?” He didn’t push it. He pulled out his phone with his right hand and started playing on it. I quietly peeled the apple. Then I peeled a pear. Then a peach. … Until a phone screen appeared right in front of my face. The lighting in the video was dim, the figures blurry. But I could clearly make out a slender girl sitting on a man’s lap. Over the chaotic music, I could hear a few delicate cries: “Julian… Julian…” I pretended not to see it. The next second, I froze. For some unknown reason, the people in the video started fighting. It was brutal. Screams echoed everywhere. I abruptly stood up. Julian was in a fight! I threw down the paring knife and hurried toward the door. “I need to use the restroom.” Once in the corner, I dialed Arthur’s number. “Mr. Sterling, Julian is in a fight at the Diamond Club. It looks pretty serious.” There was a pause on the other end. “Understood.” I didn’t hang up. With a ping indicating a $5,000 transfer, Arthur hung up the phone. I returned to the hospital room, completely satisfied. “I thought you wouldn’t care about him.” Liam said coldly out of nowhere. Only an idiot turns down easy money. I sighed, “Ah, well. We did have history.” Humming a little tune, I started peeling a lychee. Then Liam announced: “I want to go see the drama too.” Me: ? I disagreed. “What if Julian hurts you again?”

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