Author: Momo Chan

On Valentine’s Day, I took the afternoon off and spent hours in the kitchen. I prepared a lavish spread of Scarlett’s favorite dishes. While I was waiting for her to get off work, a thick envelope arrived in the mail. Tearing it open, I found a stack of letters my deeply beloved wife had mailed abroad over the past few years. They had been returned to sender due to an invalid address. Every single one was a love letter addressed to her high school sweetheart. The words were drenched in devotion, overflowing with endless, suffocating longing. My heart, which had been warm and full of anticipation just moments before, plummeted into a bath of ice. I was still trembling with suppressed anger when Scarlett walked through the door. Her face was flushed with frantic excitement. “Guess what, honey?” she beamed. “Tristan is coming back. His flight lands at one thirty in the morning. Let’s go pick him up together, okay?” Looking at my wife’s face, a face so familiar yet suddenly acting like a total stranger, the violent storm in my chest inexplicably died down. A strange, hollow calm took its place. “Let’s eat first,” I said quietly. “You go ahead. I need to run to the salon for a blowout and get my nails done. I haven’t seen Tristan in years. I absolutely refuse to give him a bad impression.” She had been home for less than a minute, yet she was already slipping her heels back on. “His flight isn’t until past midnight. What is the rush?” I tried to reason with her. “Dinner is getting cold. Look at all the food I made. Just have a few bites.” “Fine.” Scarlett finally sat down. But as she faced the extravagant meal, her mind was clearly miles away. She chewed her food like it was cardboard. Uncontrollable joy kept flashing in her eyes. I had never seen her look this radiant, not even during the peak of our honeymoon phase. Feigning casual curiosity, I asked, “How long is Tristan staying?” “I have no idea. You know how secretive he is. He loves keeping me in the dark to surprise me.” She paused, her eyes shifting nervously. “Honey, his flight gets in so late. Finding a decent hotel at that hour will be a nightmare. Why don’t we just let him stay in our guest room?” “Whatever makes you happy,” I replied. Hearing my approval, Scarlett instantly lost her nonexistent appetite. She pushed her plate away and hurried down the hall to prepare the guest room. I sat alone at the dining table, silently shoveling rice into my mouth. It was the most tasteless Valentine’s Day of my life. Just like the elaborate dinner I had spent hours preparing. To my wife, it meant absolutely nothing. By the time Scarlett finished making the bed, I had already washed the dishes. “My boss just texted,” I lied smoothly. “There is an emergency at the firm. I have to go in and work late.” Scarlett frowned in annoyance. “What kind of garbage company makes you work late on Valentine’s Day?” I let out a cold, silent laugh in my head. So, she did remember it was Valentine’s Day. “Well, make it quick. I will be waiting for you,” she said dismissively. I walked out the door, bought a pack of cigarettes at the corner store, and found a dark, empty spot near the dumpsters. I crouched there in the cold, lighting up. Back in high school, Scarlett, Tristan, and I were all in the same graduating class. Scarlett was the prom queen, the girl everyone stared at in the hallways. She was also my lab partner. But throughout those four years, she spoke fewer than ten sentences to me. Whenever I was sweating it out on the basketball court, I would look over and see Scarlett and Tristan walking hand in hand under the oak trees. I was consumed by sheer, unadulterated envy. I thought Tristan was the luckiest guy on the planet. The only time I ever got close to her was during class or when the academic rankings were posted on the bulletin board. Her flawless profile haunted my dreams for years. When the final exam scores came out, Scarlett and I ranked at the top of our class. We ended up getting accepted into the same prestigious university. Tristan, however, barely scraped by with his grades. Thanks to his family’s deep pockets, he was shipped off to study in Europe. That was how the two of them lost contact. During our college freshman talent show, Scarlett walked out on stage in a flowing white dress and sat down at the grand piano. She looked like an angel stepping straight out of a painting. She stole the hearts of half the freshman class that night, but she also gave me the liquid courage to finally confess my feelings. To my absolute shock, she said yes. After graduation, we stayed in the city. We built careers. We got married. It had been exactly five years. I changed everything about myself for her. I used to be a guy who couldn’t even boil water. Now, I was a master at grocery shopping, laundry, scrubbing floors, and cooking gourmet meals. I used to be a chain smoker, easily killing two packs a day. The moment she said she hated the smell, I quit cold turkey. I used to game online every weekend with my buddies. When she complained it was taking up too much of my time, I cut ties with all of them. In this marriage, I was not just a husband. I was a butler and a live-in maid. I handed over almost my entire paycheck to her every single month. I loved her. I cherished her. I poured my entire soul into treating her right. I was her shoulder to cry on, her partner in laughter, her anchor when she threw tantrums. I coaxed her to take her medicine when she was sick. I wiped her tears. I sang her to sleep on restless nights. Yet all that devotion had bought me nothing but a beautiful, fragile illusion. From the very beginning, Scarlett’s heart had always belonged to another man. The airport terminal was freezing and dead silent in the middle of the night. The air conditioning was blasting, but the chill in my chest was far colder. It froze me right down to the marrow. Scarlett stood beside me, dressed to the nines. She looked breathtakingly gorgeous, turning the heads of the few exhausted travelers walking by. When Tristan walked through the arrivals gate and spotted her, his eyes lit up like fireworks. He strode over, bypassing me entirely, and pulled her into a crushing embrace before either of them said a word. I stood right next to them, her actual husband, completely invisible. Scarlett seemed to remember I was there. She raised her hands to push him away, but her push was pathetic. It held zero resistance. The two of them held that embrace for ten full seconds right in front of my face. It was as if they were physically draining years of painful longing from each other’s bodies. Tristan pulled back just enough to look at her, his face glowing with pure ecstasy. “I finally get to see you again. Do you have any idea how much I missed you?” Before she could answer, he dipped his head to kiss her. At the very last millisecond, right before their lips brushed, Scarlett panicked and pushed him back. “Tristan, don’t.” Her eyes were wide, practically begging him to stop. Only then did Tristan seem to notice I existed. A deeply arrogant, knowing smirk crept onto his face. “My bad, Oliver. I haven’t seen her in so long, I just couldn’t help myself.” “We go way back. You don’t mind, do you?” Every word dripping from his mouth was laced with blatant disrespect. It was a clear declaration of ownership. Scarlett looked at me, her eyes swirling with complex emotions. I kept my expression entirely blank. “I don’t mind at all. A long-awaited reunion. It is a perfectly natural reaction.” Scarlett froze. Her gaze grew even more conflicted. She had clearly expected me to lose my temper, to throw a jealous fit, to scream and shout. She never expected this dead calm. I reacted as if the woman in his arms was a total stranger, not my wife. Despite her confusion, she let out a quiet breath of relief. They had just reunited, and she clearly didn’t want Tristan and me getting into a public fistfight. On the drive back, Scarlett did not sit in the passenger seat next to me. She climbed into the back with Tristan. I became their personal chauffeur. I watched them in the rearview mirror in absolute silence. Neither of them wore seatbelts. They leaned in close, their shoulders touching, completely absorbed in each other. Just like they used to sit on the concrete bleachers by the high school football field. Inseparable. Tristan told stories about his wild adventures in Europe, and Scarlett hung onto his every word. She kept bursting into bright, musical laughter. Her beautiful eyes were overflowing with pure, unadulterated joy. It felt like someone was dragging a serrated blade across my heart. I drove like a programmed machine, my hands numb on the steering wheel. The two a.m. sky was an endless, suffocating black void. As we pulled into our neighborhood, Scarlett finally asked the question. “How long are you staying this time, Tristan?” “Depends.” Tristan glanced up at the rearview mirror, making direct eye contact with me before turning his gaze intimately back to Scarlett. “Maybe three days. Maybe two weeks.” “Or maybe the rest of my life.” I watched Scarlett’s shoulders physically tremble. She lowered her eyes, blushing, entirely unable to hold his gaze. Before the tension could settle, I slammed on the brakes and announced we were home. That night, Scarlett lay next to me in bed, tossing and turning for hours. I knew exactly why. Her body was here, but her heart had already moved into the guest room. Scarlett took the rest of the week off to play tour guide for Tristan. I casually asked if she wanted me to tag along. She rejected the idea without a second thought. She said Tristan only needed her. Every single day, Tristan updated his social media with a barrage of photos. The comments section was flooded by our old high school classmates. “The Prom King and Queen. You guys still look like movie stars.” “I always thought you two were the perfect couple. So jealous.” “True love always finds a way. Congrats on getting back together.” The kicker? Most of these people had attended my wedding and drank my champagne. Back in high school, I was a nobody. Tristan was the Student Body President and a star varsity athlete. He was rich, generous, and naturally charismatic. When he dated Scarlett, everyone accepted it as the natural order of the universe. Even the teachers thought they belonged together. None of them ever expected a guy like me to put a ring on her finger. To them, I was just a toad who somehow managed to trick a swan into marrying him. Reading those lively comments, I felt an unprecedented wave of peace. I systematically liked every single one of them, put my phone face down, and got back to work. Right before clocking out, a text from Scarlett popped up. “Honey, today is Tristan’s birthday.” “I booked a private room at the Grand Hotel. Just come straight here after work.” “Oh, and swing by the bakery to pick up his cake for me.” I texted back a simple okay. As I was packing up my briefcase, my phone rang. It was Professor Bennett, my old college mentor. “Oliver, have you thought about my offer?” he asked, his voice crackling with excitement. “You were always the brightest student I ever had. This new research project just got federal funding. It is massive, and I need your brain on my team. Talk to your wife, make the jump, and come work with me.” “Give me a year… no, eight months. We will change the industry.” The Professor had pitched this project to me a year ago. I kept turning him down because I couldn’t bear to neglect Scarlett. When I graduated, he practically begged me to stay in academia, promising me a clear path to a tenured professorship at an Ivy League university within ten years. But my entire universe revolved around my wife, so I respectfully declined his brilliant future. Now, the fire was completely dead. Scarlett was no longer my sky, my everything. “I am in,” I told him. Professor Bennett was ecstatic. He asked how soon I could start. “I need to put in my notice and hand over my current files. Give me a week.” “Done. I will be waiting.” After work, I stopped at the bakery. I gave the cashier Scarlett’s phone number, and she carefully pulled a box out of the display fridge. It was a heart-shaped cake, incredibly elegant and refined. I asked the girl if the design had a specific name. She smiled politely. “Yes, sir. It is our newest signature collection. It is called ‘The One That Got Away’.” I gave her a tight, polite smile. The message Scarlett was trying to send was loud and clear. When I walked into the hotel’s private dining room, the place was packed. Since everyone had scattered across the country after graduation, reunions were rare. But Tristan’s birthday was apparently a royal summons. “Look at you, Mr. President. Aging like fine wine.” “Scarlett looks incredible too. Not a day older than eighteen.” “God, looking at you two makes me feel like an old hag.” “Such a tragedy he had to go abroad. What a waste of a perfect match.” The room was buzzing with laughter. But the second I pushed the door open, the volume instantly dropped by half. Tristan was the first to break the awkward silence, flashing his signature winning smile. “Oliver. Glad you could make it, buddy.” Taking his lead, the others offered stiff, polite greetings. “Hey, Oliver. Long time no see.” “We were wondering when you would show up.” “Still working at that same boring corporate gig?” I nodded and gave generic answers, sliding into an empty chair in the far corner. There was no seat saved for me next to Scarlett anyway. The lively atmosphere quickly picked back up. But I was entirely excluded from it. Just like in high school, I was the quiet outcast sitting in the shadows. Tristan held court, laughing and dominating the conversation, effortlessly flaunting his wealth and worldly experiences. Everyone looked at him with admiration, envy, and pure worship. Looking back, I probably used to look at him the exact same way. Scarlett’s eyes were glued to Tristan. The only time she looked at me was a brief, passing glance when I first sat down. The noise and the suffocating fake cheer made my skin crawl. I pulled out my phone and started texting Professor Bennett about the new research parameters. The old man was so thrilled I was engaging that he immediately assigned his lead assistant to get me up to speed. Suddenly, someone tapped my shoulder. “Put the phone away, Oliver. It is time to sing.” I looked up. The heart-shaped cake I had carried across town was sitting in the center of the table, candles already lit. The lights flicked off. The singing started. Every face in the room glowed with warm, genuine smiles. But my throat felt like it was stuffed with dry cotton. I couldn’t make a sound. Because through the entire song, Tristan’s left hand was resting intimately on the small of my wife’s back. When the song ended, Tristan closed his eyes and made a wish. Scarlett watched his face, her eyes practically sparkling with anticipation. After he opened his eyes, the crowd started cheering, demanding they blow out the candles together. Tristan chuckled and agreed. Scarlett instinctively shot a nervous glance my way. I sat perfectly still, my face devoid of all emotion. Seeing my silence, she leaned in until her cheek was practically pressed against Tristan’s, and they blew out the flames together. Then, they grabbed the knife and cut the cake, hands overlapping. I had hit my absolute limit. I stood up, muttered a flat apology, and said I had an urgent errand to run. The table reacted exactly as I expected. “Come on, Oliver. You just got here. At least have a slice.” “Yeah, walking out before cake is just disrespectful to the birthday boy.” “Don’t run off. We booked a VIP room at a club for the afterparty. Nobody goes home sober tonight.” “We are all old friends. Don’t be a buzzkill.” I apologized again, citing work, and walked out of the room.

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1 When I was five months pregnant, Cole’s childhood sweetheart came to my house, provoked a fight, and set the place on fire. I did not call Cole. Instead, I covered my nose and mouth with a wet towel and waited silently for rescue. In my past life, the moment the fire started, I panicked and called him. I begged him to rush me to the hospital. He did. The baby survived, but Vanessa perished in the flames that very day. He told me he did not blame me. He told me to rest easy in the maternity ward, even taking a leave of absence to care for me. But on the day I gave birth, he showed his true face. He dragged me and my newborn to Vanessa’s grave. Right in front of my eyes, he ruthlessly took my baby’s life. Then, he pushed me into a blazing inferno. In my final moments, through the roaring flames, I saw his face twisted in demonic fury. “If you hadn’t started that fire, Vanessa would never have died! Did you really think playing the victim would fool me? Dream on! I am making you pay with your life!” “You like starting fires so much? Then feel it for yourself. Feel the exact pain Vanessa felt before she died!” My eyes snapped open. I was back in the burning house. Thick, acrid smoke poured into my nostrils, sending me into a violent coughing fit. The searing pain yanked me completely out of my past life’s memories. I immediately pulled out my phone. But I did not call my husband, the heroic fire captain. I dialed 911. By the time the sirens wailed and the rescue team stormed in, I spotted Cole’s familiar silhouette through the haze. Only after I watched him scoop Vanessa into his arms and carry her out of the living room did I finally let out a cry for help to the other firefighters. His crew thought I was throwing a tantrum. They glared at me through their visors, barking harsh reprimands. Suddenly, a heavy wooden wall ornament broke loose. It crashed down, slamming brutally into my pregnant belly. I coughed up a mouthful of blood right there on the floor. They did not even blink. Biting down on my lip to endure the excruciating pain, I used every ounce of strength I had to crawl out of the burning house. Outside, every single cooling blanket and oxygen tank was being used on Vanessa. Cole could not even be bothered to look my way. He just cursed at me, saying I brought this entirely on myself. Cold sweat drenched my trembling body. Blood spilled from the corners of my mouth. Deep inside, I could feel my baby’s life rapidly slipping away. In my past life, when the fire broke out, Vanessa and I had called him at the exact same time. For the sake of his unborn child, he chose to save me first. By the time he tried to go back inside, the flames had swallowed the structure. Vanessa was reduced to ashes. He had told me it was okay. He had comforted me, telling me not to blame myself. Yet, the moment I gave birth, he slaughtered my child. “Rachel, do you know what it feels like to burn alive?” his voice had echoed. “I am going to make you suffer ten times the agony Vanessa went through!” Given a second chance at life, I only wanted to stay as far away from him as possible. I never expected him to be this ruthless. He would not even spare me a single piece of first-aid equipment. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a dark pool of blood spreading beneath my legs. “Save my baby… please…” I begged, my vocal cords raw and torn. The closest firefighter finally turned around. But his eyes were filled with nothing but mockery and disgust. He nudged my leg with his heavy boot. “Give it a rest, Cap’s wife. We all know you hate Vanessa. We just didn’t think you were crazy enough to commit arson while pregnant. Cap is already saving her. You can stop the act. Nobody is watching.” “Honestly, I kinda respect how far you will go for a man’s attention. Too bad Cap only has eyes for Vanessa. You better pray she makes it out of this okay, or Cap is going to hand you divorce papers tomorrow!” I always knew Cole did not love me. But I had no idea even his crew viewed me this way. A violent, agonizing contraction ripped through my abdomen, stealing the last of my voice. The blistering heat had practically melted the skin off my arms. The crew was busy putting out the flames. Not a single soul came to check on me. As my consciousness began to fade, I heard a sudden gasp nearby. “Whoa! Why is there so much blood over here? Crap, is Cap’s wife actually hurt?” “What could possibly be wrong with her? She is just trying to get Cap to look at her. She has been pulling these stunts all afternoon. Whatever, go get Cap just in case.” But I never received a shred of Cole’s concern. All I got was his merciless interrogation. A gloved hand slapped my cheek twice, hard. “Rachel, wake up. Stop faking it. I am here.” “Are you completely out of your mind? You start a fire and end up burning yourself. Shooting yourself in the foot. Was it worth it?” Even now, he genuinely believed I started the fire. He thought I was throwing a jealous, hysterical fit. I wanted to explain. I wanted to scream. But my throat was bone dry. My stomach felt like it was being ripped apart from the inside. All I could do was reach out a trembling, bloodstained hand and grip his heavy turnout coat, praying he would finally realize I was dying. He hesitated for a split second. Then, he pressed his hand down heavily onto my cramping abdomen. “You put on a good show. If Vanessa hadn’t already told me you set the fire and hid yourself on purpose, I almost would have believed you.” Dropping those words like ice, he turned his back and walked away without a second glance. A heartbeat later, a terrified shout erupted from one of the rookies. “Captain! Blood! She is bleeding out!” “Is she having a miscarriage?!” Cole’s voice drifted back, cold and hollow. “Ignore her. Vanessa already told me. It is fake blood. She is five months along, she is not going to miscarry that easily. Let her act.” A final, blinding wave of agony washed over me. Everything went pitch black. 2 In my feverish dreams, I was pulled back to the days when Cole and I first met. It was a college seminar. He sat there with an ice-cold expression, but his flawless technical skills and sharp mind captured the hearts of half the girls in the room. I was no exception. It was love at first sight. I started asking around, desperate for any information about him. Back then, I was just a junior lecturer. He barely noticed me. To catch his eye, I worked harder than anyone else. After I finally secured my full-time position, I used the excuse of a celebration to invite him to dinner. I noticed a subtle shift in the way he looked at me that night. I seized the opportunity and chased him relentlessly. Flowers, basketball tickets, baked goods, artisan coffee. I gave him everything I had. Finally, I got what I wanted. He accepted my confession. I thought it was the beginning of my happily ever after. I had no idea it was the prologue to a nightmare. After we got together, he grew colder and more distant. Every time we had a date, he was either swamped with work or called away on a sudden emergency dispatch. I never doubted him. Not once. Until the day of our wedding. An email from overseas completely shattered my fragile dream. Vanessa had documented their ten-year entanglement in agonizing detail. Every timestamp, every photo, every shared memory felt like a blade twisting in my heart. It turned out that every single time he broke a promise to me, he was spending his hours with another woman. The most pathetic part? I didn’t even have the courage to confront him. I was terrified he would leave me. In my past life, when Vanessa died in the fire, he was so remarkably calm that I genuinely believed I had won. I thought I was the victor in this twisted love triangle. He practically bought out every maternity store in the city for our baby. That sudden, overwhelming tsunami of love fried my brain. I completely lost my ability to think critically. It was only when my child was slaughtered by his hands that the truth finally dawned on me. He was not loving me with his life. He was meticulously planning my destruction. The only woman he ever loved was Vanessa. When I finally opened my eyes again, I was staring at the sterile white ceiling of a hospital room. The face hovering over me did not belong to Cole. It was a complete stranger. “You are awake? I am your downstairs neighbor. I was coming up to see how bad the fire was, and I found you lying on the grass all by yourself. I brought you here. How are you feeling?” I tried to move my stiff, aching limbs. The moment my hands brushed my stomach, I froze. The neighbor looked at me with deep pity. “I am so sorry. When we got here, the doctors said… they said they could not save the baby.” I forced a weak, bitter smile onto my cracked lips. “It is not your fault. I know.” “Thank you for bringing me here.” Even a total stranger could tell at a glance that I was dying. Yet the man I had been married to for five years could not be bothered to look at me. Seeing my numb despair, the neighbor grew more furious than I was. “What the hell is wrong with that rescue squad? A pregnant woman is bleeding out on the ground, and they just ignore her?” “If I hadn’t come up to check, you would be dead right now! Where is your family? Where is the father?” “Give me his number. I will call him right now. You need someone by your side.” “I already reported that firehouse to the city! People like that are a menace to society!” I nodded slowly, my voice barely a raspy whisper. “The baby’s father is dead.” His face softened with profound sympathy. He offered to stay and take care of me until I was discharged. I politely declined. I transferred the money for the hospital bills to his phone and urged him to go home. The neighbor left, but the storm on the internet was just beginning to brew. The hashtag “Fire Captain’s Backyard on Fire” was inherently sensational. It was already trending at the top of every major social media platform. My neighbor had posted photos of me collapsed in a pool of blood in the comment sections. It sparked a massive public outcry. People were furious, questioning if the fire department only cared about putting out flames while turning a blind eye to a dying pregnant woman. “If that is the case, they should just be called property savers, not a rescue squad,” one top comment read. I scrolled through the endless wave of outrage. Honestly, this kind of punishment felt far too light for Cole. I opened my messaging app, planning to send him a text asking for a divorce. Before I could type a word, a photo from Vanessa popped up on my screen. She was admitted to the exact same hospital, just one floor below me. In the photo, Cole was personally feeding her a bowl of soup, carefully blowing on the spoon so she wouldn’t burn her tongue. I had seen countless photos of their intimacy. Pictures like this no longer had the power to hurt me. I calmly closed the chat and dialed Cole’s number. He finally picked up on the fifth try. His voice was laced with absolute irritation. “You actually have the nerve to call me? What do you want? Checking to see if Vanessa is dead? Well, sorry to disappoint you! I pulled her out! She is alive and recovering right here in the hospital!” “Rachel, I have known you for years, but I never thought you were capable of this. Do you realize what you did? That is attempted murder! Are you completely insane?” “I am giving you exactly one hour. Crawl down to this room and apologize to her! Otherwise, we are getting a divorce!” Before I could speak, Vanessa’s soft, weeping voice echoed through the speaker. “Cole, don’t be mad at her. It is my fault. If she wants to say I started the fire, just let her. Don’t argue with her. Pregnant women shouldn’t get too stressed.” Cole let out a heavy sigh, his tone dripping with disappointment. “You are just too kind. That is why she constantly walks all over you. We met first. Who the hell does Rachel think she is? What gives her the right to touch you?” “Don’t worry about it. I am making sure she learns her lesson this time!” While they were busy playing star-crossed lovers, I spoke, my voice devoid of any emotion. “Okay. Let’s get a divorce. I agree. I will send the papers over shortly. Make sure you sign them.” Cole was clearly caught off guard. He never expected me to initiate the divorce. A moment of stunned silence was followed by a sudden burst of rage. Before he could start screaming, I hung up. Before I could block his number, a barrage of text messages flooded my screen. “Where are you? Have you lost your damn mind today? I let your behavior slide because you are pregnant, and now you are pushing your luck?” “You think having a baby means I won’t drop you? I swear, when you go into labor and need a signature for the epidural, you will be crawling off that bed to beg me!” “And take down those news posts online right now! Do not force me to expose your true colors to the public!” I didn’t bother reading the rest. I deleted the thread and blocked his number. Even though I had paid for this lesson with blood in my past life, being betrayed by him again still caused a brief, involuntary twinge of pain in my chest. A pair of nurses walked in to change my bandages. Oblivious to my expression, they gossiped freely. “That guy downstairs is incredibly handsome. I have never seen a couple look so perfect together! I heard they were high school sweethearts. I am so jealous.” “You are behind on the news. I just heard that Mr. Sullivan actually paid the hospital cafeteria to reserve a private kitchen window. Just so he can personally cook for his precious wife every day!” “I went down to change her dressings earlier, and he wouldn’t even let me touch her. He insisted on doing it himself. True love is just beautiful!” I stared blankly at the IV needle in the back of my hand. The skin on my arm had peeled off, stinging and itching fiercely. When the nurses finally left, I gasped for air like a drowning woman. But no matter how hard I breathed, the oxygen refused to fill my lungs. That evening, the doctor came in. He told me the blunt trauma to my abdomen had caused severe internal damage. It would be nearly impossible for me to ever conceive again. Hearing those words, my very first thought was sheer relief. Thank God. Without a child, he or she would never have to suffer alongside me. An innocent life deserved a better world than this. When the room was empty again, I checked the latest updates online. The cyberbullying against the fire department had escalated to the point where the city officials had to step in and make a public statement. However, the official explanation claimed the entire incident was staged by me. They claimed I was driven by insane jealousy and intentionally caused harm. Not only did I waste precious city rescue resources, but I also dragged their decorated captain through the mud. In the press conference video, the official urged the public to drop the matter, but every single word deliberately painted me as the villain. To lend credibility to the video, Cole registered a verified account and posted a photo of our marriage certificate. His actions hammered the final nail into my coffin. The tidal wave of hatred instantly pivoted from the fire department and crashed down on me. My personal social media accounts were breached, flooded with death threats, and eventually banned by the platforms. Any attempts I made to post the truth were instantly buried under an avalanche of vicious comments. Over the next few days, I could feel the hostile glares of the hospital staff. If it weren’t for their basic professional ethics, I am certain they would have thrown me out onto the street. I received anonymous packages every day. Without fail, they were all death threats. Through it all, I didn’t say a single word in my defense. On the day the doctor cleared me for discharge, I sent Cole one final text. “Meet me at City Hall tomorrow. We are signing the papers.” He jumped on the opportunity to call me from a different number. “What, finally coming out of hiding? You actually have the nerve to show your face? I warned you. I gave you a chance. You refused to take down the posts. Don’t blame me for being ruthless now!” “If Vanessa hadn’t begged me to go easy on you, I would have had the cops arrest you by now! Fine, let’s divorce. When that kid grows up without a father, don’t come crying to me! It is your own fault you are turning him into a fatherless bastard!” Before I could reply, he hung up on me. I calmly opened the smart home app on my phone and downloaded the hidden camera footage from the living room on the day of the fire.

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1 My mother passed away in a sudden, tragic accident. Yet, just a day before her funeral, my wife was busy traveling back to her young assistant’s rural hometown to marry him. When I confronted her, she looked at me as if I were the one being unreasonable. “His mother is terminally ill, Arthur. Her dying wish is to see him get married. I am just helping him out. It is not like we are actually going to sleep together. Why are you acting so hysterical?” But when I called her that night, her young assistant, Noah, was the one who answered the phone. “She is already exhausted from the trip, Arthur. She is fast asleep right now. If you need something, just tell me.” I sat in the suffocating silence of my living room for a long moment before quietly ending the call. Early the next morning, my wife called. “I am going to go through with the wedding ceremony with Noah today. Just postpone your mother’s funeral for a few days.” I did not say a word. I simply hung up, buried my mother in silence, and then picked up the phone to call my lawyer. “Please draft the divorce papers.” Stella never showed up on the day of the funeral. Swallowing my grief, I handled everything alone. From carrying the casket to lowering it into the cold earth. My mother had worked tirelessly her entire life, and in death, I refused to let her suffer any more indignity. I handled every detail personally, my hands trembling but resolute. The guests offered their condolences, but my uncles were visibly furious. “Missing an event this massive? Not even showing her face? How cold-blooded can she be?” “Let us go down to her parents’ house! I want to ask them exactly how they raised such a daughter!” Their anger boiled over, and they were ready to storm her family estate. I stepped in front of them, gently shaking my head. “Do not bother. It is not worth it.” That morning, I had already seen Stella’s social media updates. She was drowning in the rustic romance of a country wedding. Why would she spare a single thought for a funeral? Her heart had checked out of our marriage a long time ago. Having her here would only poison the air. My mother’s farewell did not need the presence of someone utterly devoid of a soul. The heavy mahogany casket gradually disappeared beneath the dirt. I took the shovel from one of the gravediggers, scooped up a pile of damp earth, and let it fall gently over the wood. The only person in this world who loved me unconditionally was gone forever. When the service ended, I sent Stella a text. [The funeral is over.] The message sank like a stone in an endless ocean. No reply. Maybe she was too busy to see it. Maybe she saw it and just could not be bothered to type a response. It did not matter anymore. Because I no longer cared. After seeing off the last of the guests, I contacted a top-tier family law firm, explained my situation, and officially retained a lawyer to dissolve my marriage. The moment I stepped through my front door, my phone buzzed with a video message from Noah. The screen filled with the sights and sounds of a boisterous barn wedding. It was incredibly loud, draped in floral arrangements and rustic lights, every face in the background flushed with celebration. Noah’s voice bled through the speaker, dripping with a sickening blend of triumph and fake pity. “Oh man, it is such a shame you are not here, Arthur. Look at this. I told Stella we did not need to go all out, but she insisted. Cost an absolute fortune.” I let out a flat, hollow noise of acknowledgment and moved to hang up. But then the camera panned. There, standing in the center of the frame, was Stella. She was wearing a stunning white bridal gown, her face glowing with a sweet, radiant happiness I had not seen directed at me in years. “Look over here, babe,” Noah coaxed. Stella turned her head. When she realized he was recording a video to send to me, she did not flinch. She did not try to hide. Instead, she waved enthusiastically. “Hey honey! The country aesthetic is actually gorgeous! It is such a pity your mom passed away right now. Otherwise, you could have come down and joined the fun.” Joined the fun? The phone rattled against my shaking palm. So, in her eyes, the tragic death of the woman who gave me life was nothing more than an inconvenient schedule conflict that kept me from attending my own wife’s fake wedding. 2 Looking back, Stella and I had walked side by side for eight long years. Just last year, I had secretly counted my blessings, relieved that we had smoothly sailed past the dreaded seven-year itch. Now, reality had delivered a brutal, waking slap to the face. I could not pinpoint exactly when it started, but Stella’s patience for me had simply evaporated. The gentle, understanding woman I married was replaced by someone volatile, prone to explosive tempers and erratic moods. Sometimes, a slightly overcooked dinner was enough to make her storm out of the house. Every time we fought, I was the one who yielded. I swallowed my pride. It did not matter who was at fault or how far she crossed the line. I loved her, so I compromised. Then Noah entered the picture. Their relationship escalated with terrifying speed. Every day was a blur of lingering touches, inside jokes, and deeply inappropriate eye contact. While my mother was still alive, the neighborhood gossips made sure the whispers reached her ears. Worried, she had gently asked Stella about it. Stella had erupted into a screaming fit, shattering plates against the kitchen wall and screaming that my mother was a paranoid, toxic woman who wanted to ruin her life. My mother had only asked out of genuine concern. When I came home from work that night, I found my mother sitting alone on the sofa, her eyes red and swollen. Stella, meanwhile, did not come home at all. She ignored my calls and left my texts on read, only strutting back into the house the next morning. That was the first time I ever truly lost my temper with her. Stella looked at me like I was insane, completely bewildered as to why I was making such a big deal out of nothing. She had conveniently forgotten how my mother had treated her like her own flesh and blood from the day we exchanged our vows. Later, when my mother’s health failed and she was hospitalized, Stella never visited. Not once. At first, a blinding anger consumed me. But eventually, a numbing exhaustion took its place. We had been married for so long. I foolishly convinced myself that if we just weathered this storm, if we just survived this rough patch, the warmth would eventually return to our home. I trapped myself in a beautifully constructed delusion. I hypnotized myself with false hope. Until the flatline sounded in that sterile hospital room. Staring at my mother’s rapidly cooling body, the veil finally dropped. I realized how pathetically comical my hopes had been. Stella and I were already a rotting corpse of a marriage. There was no future. She had packed her bags the day before the funeral. I had naively assumed she was just stressed and would turn around. Instead, she called to demand I put my mother’s burial on hold. Her reason? Noah’s mother was unwell and wanted to see him bring home a bride. And that bride had to be my wife. It was sickeningly laughable. Her own mother-in-law was dead. But instead of wearing black, she was busy playing dress-up for another man. Even if she hated my mother, basic human decency dictated respect for the dead. She knew that. She just did not care. When my heart finally shattered, there was no loud explosion. Just a quiet, absolute death of everything I ever felt for her. 3 With the funeral behind me, I began packing up my mother’s belongings. There was not much. A few simple dresses, some worn knitting needles, and a handful of tarnished jewelry. When my fingers brushed against a heavy, beautifully ornate vintage gold locket, my breath caught in my throat. My mother had told me time and time again that this was my grandmother’s heirloom. It was meant to be locked around the neck of the woman who would carry our family’s love into the next generation. I sat on the edge of the bed, staring blankly at the gold. Right then, my phone lit up with a text from Stella. [Hubby, I am going to be swamped the next few days taking wedding photos and family portraits. I will not be coming home.] I did not reply. A cynical, dry laugh scraped its way up my throat. I carefully wrapped the gold locket in velvet and placed it securely in my safe. It was my mother’s dying wish to pass this on, but I would rather melt it down than let it touch Stella’s skin. She was completely unworthy. Late that night, I saw her newest social media post. It was a professional family portrait of her, Noah, and Noah’s parents. The caption read: [A Happy Family.] In the photo, Noah’s hand was wrapped tightly around her waist. They were looking deeply into each other’s eyes, absolute adoration radiating from their smiles. I had almost forgotten that Stella could look so soft, so tender. Or perhaps, she had always been tender. She just reserved it exclusively for the people she actually loved. Two days later, she finally called. She ordered me to pick her up from the central train station. I was mildly confused at first. She had driven her own luxury SUV down to the country. Why was she taking the train back? The moment I pulled up to the arrivals curb, everything made sense. Standing there with Stella and Noah was a massive flock of elderly, loud, and visibly demanding country relatives. They were blocking the sidewalk, pointing at the city skyline and shouting over each other. Stella caught my eye and sighed, gesturing to the crowd. “Noah’s mom and his extended family wanted to see the city. You need to help entertain them.” She did not need to spell it out. The raw, unfiltered greed sparkling in their eyes was a mirror image of the look Noah wore every day. I kept my mouth shut, my face a mask of absolute indifference. Noah swaggered over, the smugness practically leaking from his pores. “Sorry for the trouble, Arthur. Really appreciate you making the trip out here.” He flashed a bright, perfectly practiced smile. “I kept telling my beautiful bride that we could just hail a few cabs, but she insisted you had to come. Makes me feel kind of bad, honestly.” He held out a hand. I stared at it, then up at his face, without moving a single muscle. Noah let his hand fall, a flush of embarrassment creeping up his neck. Stella immediately stepped forward, her voice sharp and dripping with venom. “Are you blind? Or did you just leave whatever manners you had in the gutter today?” Before I could even form a response, Noah’s mother pushed her way to the front. She was a hawkish older woman with calculating eyes, gripping Stella’s arm tightly. “Oh dear, why is there only one car, Stella? We have half the village here. How are we all supposed to squeeze into that?” “Let me call a luxury transport service,” Stella said, reaching for her phone. Noah’s mom snatched her wrist. “Nonsense! Why should you spend your money? Just have your driver here take the bus home. He can leave the car, and the three of us will take it back to your place.” Stella hesitated, looking at me. There was a flicker of something in her eyes. A request for permission. I felt absolutely nothing. I pulled the car keys from my pocket and tossed them directly into Noah’s chest. “Sure. Fine by me.” Stella let out a heavy breath of relief, lifting her chin at me dismissively. “Then hurry up and figure out their hotel arrangements. Do not keep my relatives waiting in the wind.” With that, the three of them piled into my car and sped off into the city traffic. Before the windows rolled up, I caught the undisguised gloating in the eyes of Noah and his mother. They thought they had put me in my place. They thought they had won. They had no idea that the game was already over, and I had already left the table. 4 By the time I managed to wrangle the herd of loud, demanding relatives into the hotel lobby, Stella was waiting by the elevators. The moment she saw me, she hurried over. “Listen, Noah and his mom said they want to attend your mother’s funeral to pay their respects. They are upstairs changing right now. Wait in the lobby. Once they are dressed, drive us over.” “Absolutely not.” The refusal left my lips before she even finished her sentence. “My mother valued her peace. Besides, these people are strangers. They have no business being there.” Stella’s face instantly twisted in annoyance. “But I already promised them! They were just praising how kind-hearted I am.” “And anyway, they traveled all this way. It is the thought that counts. What is the harm in letting them take one look?” The thought? A cold smirk played on my lips. Crocodile tears from a pack of vultures. I would rather the graveyard be completely empty than tainted by their presence. I was about to shut her down completely when the elevator doors chimed open. Noah and his mother stepped into the lobby. Noah was dressed decently enough, wearing a tailored black suit with a white rose pinned to his lapel. But when my eyes landed on his mother, the blood in my veins turned to ice. She was wearing a blindingly bright, sequined neon pink dress. She looked like a walking disco ball meant for a bachelorette party. Was she going to a funeral, or was she deliberately trying to spit on my mother’s grave? “You are wearing that to a funeral?” My voice was lethal, dropping the temperature in the room. Noah’s mother did not look embarrassed in the slightest. She rolled her eyes at me, muttered the word “hillbilly” under her breath, and waved Stella over. “Stella, honey, look at this. Does this outfit work for today?” Stella rushed to her side, grabbing her hands and nodding enthusiastically. “It is perfect. Simply gorgeous. If you ask me, this is exactly what you should wear. It makes you look so youthful and full of life.” My eyes widened. I stared at the woman I had been married to for nearly a decade. She said it was perfect. Stella did not even glance my way. She smiled warmly, gently guiding the older woman toward the revolving doors. When she noticed I had not moved an inch, she frowned in irritation. “What is your problem now? I literally just married her son. The poor woman just wants to wear something bright and happy to celebrate. Is that a crime?” “You are going to throw a tantrum over some fabric?” I looked at her. I felt a terrifying, absolute calm wash over my entire soul. My lips pulled back into a chilling smile. “You are right. I am being entirely too petty.” Ignoring Stella’s confused, slightly unnerved stare, I walked past them and got straight into the driver’s seat of the rental car. It was crystal clear. Every shred of hope I had ever harbored for this woman was toxic waste. My mother did not exist in her world. She never had. The drive was agonizingly tense. Stella’s face was a storm of conflicting emotions. Several times she opened her mouth to speak, and every single time, I cut her off instantly. “It is rush hour. Keep quiet. If I get distracted, we crash.” My voice was dead. Flat. It made Stella flinch, a flash of unease crossing her features before she finally clamped her mouth shut. But Noah’s mother was not used to silence. “Stella, what is wrong with this driver you hired? He has absolutely zero manners. If I were you, I would have fired him months ago.” I almost laughed out loud. What kind of delusional parasite was she, trying to dictate my life in my own car? Stella looked mortified. “Please do not be angry, Mom. He just… he speaks without thinking. Please do not take offense.” Noah’s mother sighed dramatically, placing a hand over her heart. “You have suffered so much these past years, my sweet girl. The very first time I laid eyes on you, I knew the universe made you specifically to be our family’s daughter-in-law.” “I love you right down to my bones.” She actually brought a hand up to wipe away a completely imaginary tear. Noah immediately leaned over to comfort her. “Do not cry, Mom. Everything is perfect now. Stella already promised we are going to start trying for a baby soon. I will give you a big, healthy grandson.” Stella’s face drained of color. She frantically slapped Noah’s knee. “Stop talking nonsense! I have no intention of having a child anytime soon!” Noah lowered his head submissively, but through the rearview mirror, I caught the vicious, toxic glare he shot her. Stella rushed to explain, though her words felt directed entirely at the back of my head. “My career is taking off right now. A baby is out of the question. We will talk about it years down the line.” I nodded slowly, keeping my eyes fixed on the road. She did not need to panic. She did not need to explain. A year ago, a conversation like this would have broken me. I would have screamed. I would have demanded answers. But today? I did not care if she had his baby tomorrow. Our timeline had reached a dead end. 5 When the car finally rolled to a stop at the sprawling gates of the memorial park, Stella looked out the window in confusion. “Why are we here?” She honestly could not comprehend why anyone would host a funeral at a cemetery instead of a lavish memorial hall. “Did you type in the wrong address, Arthur?” I killed the engine. Through the rearview mirror, my dead eyes met her questioning gaze. “No. This is the place.” Something clicked in her mind. The color vanished from her cheeks, leaving her looking like a ghost. “Are you saying…” “Yes.” I nodded, shifting my gaze to the rolling green hills lined with gray stones. My voice held absolutely zero emotion. “She is already in the ground. I buried her while you were busy planning a baby with him.” Stella froze. When reality finally crashed into her, she lunged forward, her fingers digging painfully into my shoulder, her face twisted in a manic rage. “You did this on purpose, did you not? I explicitly told you to postpone it!” I violently shoved her hands off me. My voice was laced with pure, unfiltered disgust. “Do you truly believe you are the center of the universe? That gravity itself shifts just to accommodate you?” “The date was set. The arrangements were made. Did you expect my mother’s body to rot in a morgue just because you were busy playing house?” Stella was stunned into silence. But Noah’s mother screeched from the backseat. “What is the big deal about waiting a few days? A brilliant, rich girl like Stella was willing to stoop down and attend your mother’s little burial. You should be kissing her feet in gratitude! Instead, you have the audacity to complain?” “You ungrateful little rat!” Noah nodded vigorously. “Exactly. You just take and take. Stella takes such good care of you, and you do not even consider her feelings for one second?” My jaw locked. I stared straight ahead, a statue carved from ice. I considered Stella’s feelings. But who considered mine? Who considered the woman who brought me into this world, lowering into the dark alone? Stella remained silent for a long, suffocating minute. She took a ragged breath. “Where is the grave? Take me to it.” I shook my head slowly. “You can walk up. They stay in the car.” I pointed a stiff finger at Noah and the neon-pink nightmare sitting next to him. “Those people will do nothing but defile the dead. They are not stepping foot on that grass.” The old woman’s face twisted into an ugly sneer, her mouth opening to spew more venom, but Stella cut her off sharply. “Fine. Just you and me.” I walked ahead, the gravel crunching beneath my shoes. Stella trailed closely behind me. The entire walk up the hill, she did not stop talking. A relentless stream of justifications and accusations. “Why did you bury her without my final approval? You could have at least sent me a text!” “How do you think this makes me look? A wife who skips her own mother-in-law’s burial? Do you want society to crucify me?” When I refused to offer even a single syllable in response, Stella snapped. She sprinted ahead, planting herself directly in my path, forcing me to stop. “You do not care about me at all anymore, do you?” I looked into her furious, blazing eyes. My heart was a flatline. “The date of the funeral was set days ago. You knew that. Why did I need to send a special invitation to my own wife?” “And I did text you after it was done. You chose to ignore it. What right do you have to stand on my mother’s grave and demand answers from me?” Stella’s expression cracked. She yanked her phone from her designer purse, her thumbs flying across the screen. I watched in total apathy as the anger drained from her face, replaced first by shock, then a sickening, pale dread. When she finally looked up at me, there was genuine panic trembling in her eyes. “I… I am so sorry. I…” “I swear I did not see the message. I was not trying to ignore you. I…” I let out a harsh, bitter laugh, slicing right through her pathetic excuses. “Does it matter now?” “She is in the dirt, Stella. What do you want me to do? Dig her up so you can pretend to care for the cameras?” “How can you say something so sick!” Stella flared up again, her guilt instantly weaponized into defensiveness. “I was just…” “Enough.” I stepped around her, my eyes fixed on the horizon. “You wanted to pay your respects. Here we are. Do it quickly. This is the last time you will ever come here.” Stella froze in her tracks. She spun around, grabbing my sleeve, her voice suddenly small and shaky. “What… what is that supposed to mean?” I stared down at her hands, then up to her face. My voice was a death sentence. “The divorce papers are printed. I am just waiting for your signature.”

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The day before our wedding, my fiancé entirely skipped the rehearsal. Later that night, my phone buzzed with a text from him. [Sophie is pregnant. The baby is not mine.] [But I need to get a marriage certificate with her first. Her hyper-conservative family will disown her if she has a child out of wedlock. I have to give the baby my name on paper.] [We need to postpone our wedding for three years. Do not contact me during this time.] [Figure out a way to explain this to our parents. Whatever you do, do not ruin Sophie’s reputation. Just tell them you got cold feet.] I stared at the glowing screen. My fingers moved mechanically, typing a single word. [Okay.] It was the truth, anyway. I really did not want to marry him anymore. 1 Almost immediately after his text, his childhood best friend posted an update on Instagram. It was a picture of two hands intertwined, wearing matching platinum bands, forming the shape of a heart. Inside the heart rested an ultrasound scan. Seven weeks pregnant. The caption read: [He said he would give us a home.] The comments section was flooded with mutual friends congratulating them, saying they finally made it official, promising huge wedding gifts tomorrow. Not a single person mentioned me. It was as if tomorrow’s wedding had always belonged to the two of them, and I was just a ghost who had never existed. A bitter smile touched my lips. I double-tapped the picture to like it. Then, I left a comment. [Wishing you a lifetime of happiness together.] My comment blended perfectly into the sea of blessings. It did not stand out at all. But less than a minute later, my comment was deleted. My phone rang immediately. Lucas’s voice came through the speaker, dripping with impatience and irritation. “Valerie, what is your problem? Are you trying to cause a scene?” Words completely failed me. “I am not causing a scene. I was genuinely wishing you both happiness.” But Lucas was completely deaf to my sincerity. He was entirely convinced I was out for blood. “Give me a break. Do you think I do not know your true intentions?” “Everyone knows tomorrow was supposed to be our wedding! You jumping in with that passive-aggressive comment was just a calculated move to make Sophie look like a joke!” “Apologize to her right now! She has been crying non-stop because of what you wrote!” Through the receiver, I could hear the faint, pathetic sound of a woman sobbing. “Forget it, Lucas! It is my fault for asking you to help me. I will just book an appointment tomorrow and terminate the pregnancy! So what if I can never be a mother? It is better than being branded a homewrecker!” Lucas’s tone instantly melted into something sickeningly sweet. He began coaxing her like a fragile child. “Sophie, stop it. You are not a homewrecker. Once we sign those papers tomorrow, we will be legally married. A real, recognized couple!” “Do not listen to her thoughtless garbage. If anyone dares to mock you, I will ruin them!” Sophie only wailed louder. “But what about Valerie? Her heart must be breaking! I should really just get rid of the baby so your wedding can go on…” Lucas’s voice grew even softer, laced with frantic worry. “Sophie, please. I already worked everything out with her. She just has to wait three years and she will get exactly what she wants. It is not like I am disappearing forever.” “Please stop crying. You are going to upset the baby.” “And if you ruin your beautiful eyes, how are you going to be the most gorgeous bride tomorrow?” A watery giggle finally broke through Sophie’s tears. Lucas let out a heavy sigh of relief. When he addressed me again, his tone was slightly less hostile. “Valerie, why are you staying quiet? Apologize to Sophie right now.” My nails dug into my palms. I hated myself for having the momentary weakness to comment on her post. But I had done nothing wrong. Why should I be the one to grovel? “And if I say no, Lucas?” He froze for a second before his voice spiked in disbelief. “Valerie, if you keep throwing this tantrum, things are going to get very ugly! Sophie is pregnant. Her hormones are all over the place, and you are deliberately making her cry. You are being completely unreasonable!” “Fine, if you will not apologize, you can make up for it with your actions. Call all our friends and relatives immediately and tell them you are the one who backed out!” As if terrified I would refuse, he abruptly ended the call. Seconds later, a text popped up. [Valerie, I am begging you. Stop making a scene. I am just signing a piece of paper with Sophie. It means absolutely nothing. Delaying our wedding is just my way of making sure you get the perfect, dream wedding you deserve at a more suitable time.] A suitable time. Those familiar words stung my eyes until they watered. What exactly was a suitable time? I had listened to that exact excuse for eight years. I had waited nearly three thousand days and nights for him to marry me. And my reward was watching him become another woman’s legal husband. Lucas, I am done waiting. Because we are completely unsuitable for each other. Suddenly, the message disappeared. He unsent it. A new one arrived. [I had to unsend that. It is not good for Sophie to see it. She is pregnant and overthinks things easily. Just do what I asked. I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you after these three years!] A dry laugh scraped its way up my throat. I stared at the screen for two minutes. Right on cue, he unsent that message as well. So, was he lying to me or lying to himself? If he was purely helping Sophie out of the goodness of his heart, why was he so terrified of her seeing his promises to me? If the child in her belly truly was not his, he was certainly going to extreme lengths to protect her. But what if the baby was his? 2 I shook my head, forcing the sickening thoughts away. I casually typed the word ‘Okay’ and hit send. A red exclamation mark bounced back at me. He had already blocked me to appease his new bride. Good. It did not bother me. I opened Instagram, crafted a brief post announcing the cancellation of my wedding, and hit publish. My phone immediately blew up. My notifications were a flood of shocked questions. Not wanting to drag out the drama, I stuck to Lucas’s script. I replied to a few close friends saying I simply felt it was too early to settle down. My friends flooded my inbox, calling me an absolute fool. “Valerie, Lucas is not that broke college kid who lived in a basement anymore. He is a successful tech founder now. Women are throwing themselves at him! If you cancel the wedding, you are basically wrapping your man up in a bow and handing him to someone else!” I did not reply to any of them. Because Lucas was already someone else’s man. Shortly after I posted my announcement, Sophie sent me a picture of their freshly signed marriage license via a direct message. Her tone was dripping with smug victory, disguised as gratitude. [Thank you so much for the assist, Valerie! Lucas and I were originally going to the courthouse tomorrow, but he wanted to cheer me up, so he pulled some strings and got it done tonight!] I did not dignify her with a response. I deleted the message and blocked her instantly. My phone vibrated violently. It was my mother. “Are you out of your mind?!” she screamed into the receiver. “You helped plant the tree, and now you are letting someone else eat the fruit? What are you trying to prove? When you finally decide you want to marry him, he might not even want you!” I let out a soft, hollow laugh. “What if he is the one who does not want to get married, Mom?” She paused for a second before her voice grew even more furious. “Then it means you are not doing your job right! Swallow your pride, go to him, and talk sweetly. Do not throw away eight years of your youth just to walk away with absolutely nothing!” Eight years. I had loved Lucas for eight years. He always told me a man needed to establish his empire before starting a family. But when he finally built his empire, bought the penthouse, and got the luxury cars, giving me a home was no longer his priority. It was not that I had not fought for us. Fighting was just useless. For eight years, I built his tech startup with him from the ground up. I lived in a damp basement, ate instant noodles, and swallowed my pride to tell him a million times that my only dream was to be his wife, whether we were rich or poor. I had even terminated three pregnancies for him. All because he claimed the timing was wrong and he could not bear the thought of his children living in poverty. I loved him, so no matter how much it shattered my soul, I obeyed his wishes. Just like tonight. When he said he wanted to marry his childhood friend. In that moment, alongside the agonizing heartbreak, I actually felt a profound sense of relief. Not getting married meant I no longer had to wait in the dirt for him to throw me a crumb of commitment. My mother was still rambling on about how women who knew how to act fragile got the best lives. The suffocating weight in my chest suddenly vanished. I no longer felt the need to explain my pain. “Mom, the wedding is off. I am never marrying him.” I ended the call and dialed the wedding planner to cancel everything for tomorrow. The planner went dead silent before speaking hesitantly. “Mr. Mercer already called to discuss this. But he told us to carefully store all the custom backdrops, the floral arrangements, and the personalized posters for three years. That is going to be incredibly difficult. Those materials are meant for one-time use.” Clarity hit me like a physical blow. It was not that Lucas lacked the time to notify our guests. He just did not want to deal with their questions. And he truly believed that I, much like those cheap, artificial decorations, would just sit in a dark room and wait for him for three years. “Throw it all in the dumpster,” I said coldly. “Even if it could be saved, it will all be rotten in three years.” Just like his love for me. It would rot away with time. I hung up and stared at Lucas’s mother’s contact name. My head throbbed. She absolutely despised Sophie. If she found out her son had legally married that girl, she would likely have a stroke. Taking a deep breath, I opened my banking app and wired the entire one hundred and fifty thousand dollar wedding fund she had gifted me straight back into her account. I counted to three in my head. My phone rang. “Valerie, why did the money bounce back to my account?” “Mrs. Mercer, Lucas and I are calling off the wedding for now. I am moving abroad for three years.” Even though I was technically following Lucas’s script, his highly perceptive mother instantly smelled blood. “Did Lucas do something to betray you? I am going to his apartment right now! The wedding is happening tomorrow, no matter what!” “Mrs. Mercer, the wedding really cannot happen.” But she had already hung up. Well, Lucas would just have to figure out how to handle his own mother. It was time for me to pack my bags and leave. 3 The lavishly decorated bridal suite was suffocating. Every tiny detail represented my foolish hopes for our future. Now, they were just jagged blades slicing into my chest. I did not have much to take. My clothes barely filled a single suitcase. But I had a lot to throw away. By the time I finished hauling trash bags to the chute, I realized I had missed several calls from Lucas. I did not need to be a genius to guess he was furious I had failed to pacify his mother. I dropped my keys on the entryway console. I grabbed the final item, a massive, heavy glass-framed wedding portrait, intending to haul it out the door. But the moment I swung the front door open, I collided directly into Lucas. The heavy frame slipped from my fingers and crashed onto the hardwood floor, shattering into a thousand pieces. A sharp shard of glass sliced deeply into my ankle, sending a rush of dark blood down my skin. Lucas immediately pulled the woman standing behind him into his chest, shielding her perfectly. He glared at me, his voice sharp with reprimand. “Valerie, what is wrong with you? Did you not see Sophie standing right there? What if you had hurt her?” He completely missed the blood pooling around my foot. Instead, he crouched down to meticulously brush away a microscopic speck of glass that had landed on Sophie’s designer shoe. I had no energy to watch him play the devoted husband to another woman. I gripped my suitcase handle and stepped forward. He caught sight of the luggage out of the corner of his eye. He shot up in a panic and grabbed my arm. “Valerie, where do you think you are going?” Before I could speak, his phone started ringing. I glanced at the screen. It was his mother. He answered it with an exasperated sigh. “Yes! I know! It is not canceled! I will calm her down! Just stop worrying!” He hung up and turned his demanding gaze on me. “Valerie, my mom says the wedding tomorrow has to proceed as planned.” “I refuse to upset her, so everything is back on. But I need you to be a runaway bride.” “My mother adores you. If you are the one who leaves me at the altar, she will not blame me. Then I can just tell her I married Sophie in a moment of heartbreak and spite.” My eyes widened. I stared at the man I had loved for almost a decade, completely unable to process how someone could be this utterly devoid of a soul. But then I remembered he was already Sophie’s husband. Nothing he said or did should surprise me anymore. Since I was leaving anyway, I figured I would grant him one final, pathetic favor. “Okay.” Perhaps my absolute compliance finally cleared his vision. He finally registered the shattered wedding portrait on the floor. And then he saw my blood-soaked foot. His eyes turned violently red. Panic washed over his face as he sprinted into the apartment to grab the first-aid kit. The second he was out of earshot, Sophie lifted her chin, staring at me with a triumphant, mocking smirk. “Valerie, you are truly pathetic. You know I am legally his wife, yet you still want to put on a white dress and play pretend tomorrow?” “So what if his mother hates me? No matter how much she tries to stop it, she is going to have to watch her precious son marry me!” “Tomorrow’s wedding belongs to me! Lucas is my man!” “And you? You will just be the joke of the century. The pathetic ex who got dumped at the finish line!” “Do not bother dreaming about him divorcing me in three years either. Because.” She gently rested a hand on her flat stomach, her smile turning venomous. “The baby in my belly is his flesh and blood.” I lowered my eyes to hide the sudden, violent surge of tears. So, my instincts were right. Lucas had betrayed me. And he treated me like an absolute idiot, expecting me to sit on a shelf for three years while he played house with his new family. Doing the math, Sophie’s baby was conceived on the night Lucas did not come home. It was the first time in eight years he had ever forgotten my birthday. He claimed he had a critical networking dinner. He came home the next morning, drowning in apologies. That was the morning he proposed to me. He promised me a fairy-tale wedding. I had waited eight years for that ring. Pure joy had instantly smothered all my doubts and suspicions. But that night, he forgot to lock the bathroom door while taking a shower. When I walked in to grab a towel, I saw the raw, fresh scratch marks dragging down his back. When I confronted him, he did not even blink. He calmly explained a stray cat had attacked him in an alley. He even pulled up a digital receipt showing he had gone to a clinic for a rabies shot. I forced myself to swallow the lie. But a woman’s intuition is a terrifying thing. Even as I planned our dream wedding, a cold dread sat heavily in my chest. Nothing felt real. A quiet voice in the back of my mind kept whispering that his sudden proposal was nothing more than a guilt offering. I played the ostrich. I buried my head in the sand, too terrified to seek the truth. But the lingering paranoia drove me to quietly track his movements. When I caught him claiming to meet clients while his GPS sat securely at Sophie’s apartment, I knew the end was coming. I was just waiting for him to finally put the knife in my chest. So, when he skipped the rehearsal, I did not call. When he texted me about marrying Sophie, I did not complain. “Excuse me.” I had zero desire to waste my breath on his mistress. I just wanted to leave. But just as Lucas stepped out of the bathroom with the medical kit, Sophie suddenly lunged forward, grabbed my wrist, and forcefully threw herself backward into the pile of shattered glass. 4 “Valerie, I know you hate me, but why would you push me?!” “Ah! My stomach. my baby. it hurts so much.” Sophie held up her hand, her palm sliced open and bleeding. Lucas dropped the medical box and sprinted across the room, his face a mask of absolute terror and heartbreak. “Sophie, it is okay, do not panic! I am taking you to the ER right now!” He scooped her into his arms, practically flying toward the door. Before crossing the threshold, he stopped, turning his head to shoot me a look of pure, frozen hatred. “Valerie, I never knew you could be this evil. Actually laying your hands on a pregnant woman!” “If anything happens to her baby, we are completely finished.” I watched his retreating back, my voice barely a whisper in the empty room. “We were finished a long time ago.” By the time I finished sweeping up the bloody glass, the cut on my ankle had stopped bleeding on its own. But the gaping wound in my chest was still raw and mutilated. A suffocating knot of anger burned in my throat. I pulled out my phone and dialed the other majority shareholders in our tech company. When I announced I was liquidating my entire 30 percent equity stake immediately, they were practically foaming at the mouth. I told them it was a blind auction. Highest bidder takes it all tonight. Thirty minutes later, I was sitting in a local diner, signing a legally binding transfer agreement with Marcus, our CTO. Marcus was brilliant and highly ambitious, but Lucas had always kept him on a short leash, paranoid about losing control. With my shares, Marcus would instantly become the majority shareholder of the company. I truly hoped Lucas enjoyed the little wedding gift I left for him. My phone vibrated again. It was the wedding planner. He sounded furious. “Ms. Wan, what kind of game are you two playing? First you cancel, then he calls saying the wedding is back on! But everything is already in the dumpster because you told me to throw it out! What am I supposed to do at two in the morning?!” I felt a pang of guilt for making the man’s life miserable, but this was not my circus anymore. I apologized sincerely and offered a solution. “Lucas and I are absolutely not getting married. I will not ask for a refund for the decorations. If Lucas insists on having a wedding tomorrow, tell him he has to pay a rush fee and order an entirely new setup.” “He is going to murder me!” “Do not worry. He will pay the invoice.” Because he was genuinely desperate to give Sophie a perfect day. By the time I hung up, it was 2:00 AM. I abandoned the idea of going to my mother’s house to say goodbye. I hailed a cab and checked into a hotel near the airport. The planner texted me a quick thank you, confirming that while Lucas was enraged, he had indeed wired a massive rush fee. I smiled, set an alarm, and instantly fell into a dead sleep. I had no idea my phone was being relentlessly bombarded by Lucas. I ended up blocking his number and powering down my phone to sleep in peace. Until the sound of fists hammering violently against my hotel room door woke me. “Valerie! Open the door!” Hearing Lucas’s muffled rage, I suddenly realized I had forgotten to turn off my location sharing. His voice was shaking with fury. My mind instantly flashed to Sophie’s theatrical fall into the glass. Did she actually lose the baby? Or was he here to tear me apart for selling my shares to Marcus? A second later, the heavy wooden door was practically kicked off its hinges. Lucas stormed in, his eyes bloodshot and unhinged. He grabbed my arm and violently dragged me toward the hallway. “Sophie lost the baby because of you! They had to remove her uterus to save her life! How the hell are you sleeping right now?!” I struggled against his iron grip, fighting back. “I did not push her! She threw herself backward on purpose!” Lucas shoved me brutally into the passenger seat of his car. “That was her only chance to ever be a mother! Do you really think she would murder her own child just to frame you?!” He locked the doors and drove like a maniac through the empty city streets, dragging me straight into the sterile halls of the hospital. He dragged me into Sophie’s private recovery room and forcefully shoved me to the floor beside her bed. “Apologize to Sophie! And you are going to promise to carry a child for her as compensation!” My knees slammed into the freezing hospital tiles. Pain shot up my legs. I tried to scramble to my feet, but Lucas clamped a heavy hand down on my shoulder, pinning me in place. “Are you mute? Apologize to her! Now!” I swallowed the bile rising in my throat and forced out every word clearly. “I did not touch her. If you do not believe me, go ask our neighbor for their doorbell camera footage!” The neighbor’s camera pointed directly at our open doorway. It would have captured her entire pathetic performance. But he refused to believe me. “Valerie, you disgust me! Do you realize what you took from her? The baby is gone, and her uterus is gone!” “She is being merciful enough not to press criminal charges! She only wants an apology, and you are still being a stubborn bitch?” “You destroyed her ability to be a mother. Giving her a child is the absolute bare minimum you owe her! Consider it payback for secretly selling my company out from under me tonight!” Ah. The absolute bare minimum. And here I thought the love of his life losing an organ would be his only concern. Yet, he still managed to rank his precious 30 percent equity right alongside her tragedy. It proved exactly how deeply he truly loved her. Tears of hysterical laughter pricked my eyes. I looked at the floor and whispered three words. “I am sorry.” Lucas finally released his crushing grip on my shoulder. He tossed a legal document in front of me and ordered me to sign it. He was utterly delusional. Did he seriously think my signature on a piece of paper meant I would actually become a surrogate for his mistress? But I wanted to leave this nightmare immediately. I scribbled my name without reading a single line. Lucas pulled me up by my arm, his eyes a swirling mess of conflicting emotions. “I cannot risk you ruining anything else today. You are going to have to stay put for a little while.” “And keep your mouth shut about Sophie losing the baby.” It was not until the heavy click of a deadbolt echoed through the door that I realized he had locked me inside an abandoned hospital storage closet. He had locked me in a cage so he could go marry his mistress in peace. I hammered my fists against the heavy door and screamed until my throat bled. Finally, a passing janitor heard the noise and unlocked the door. I glanced at the clock. My flight was boarding soon. I sprinted out of the hospital, jumped into a taxi, and sped toward the airport. Just as I was scanning my boarding pass, Lucas’s mother called. “Valerie, where are you? Why did Lucas just announce that you ran away from the wedding? Why is he standing at the altar with Sophie?!” Before I could even answer, the loud airport intercom echoed through my phone speaker, announcing the final boarding call for my flight. “Valerie, are you at the airport? Today is your wedding day! Where do you think you are going?” “Mrs. Mercer, today is Lucas and Sophie’s wedding. It has absolutely nothing to do with me.” Without even hanging up the phone, she turned and started screaming at Lucas, demanding to know if he had abused me. Through the line, I heard Lucas shouting back over the crowd. “Mom, Sophie is pregnant! You are finally going to have a grandson!” I expected his mother, who had been begging for a grandchild for years, to burst into joyful tears. Instead, her voice ripped through the speakers in an earth-shattering roar. “Bullshit! That girl had her uterus surgically removed when she was eight years old! What the hell is she pregnant with?!”

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A few days before All Souls’ Day, I was lying in bed binge-watching a show when my roommate suddenly lost her mind and bolted for the door. Terrified that something was wrong, I scrambled after her. “Trust me. Just follow me!” I barely caught up to her in the hallway. Before I could even ask what was going on, she grabbed my wrist and dragged me all the way out of the campus. My stomach was tied in knots of confusion. We crashed at a rundown motel on the edge of town for the night. The next morning, the university’s online forum exploded. [Hall 6 Girls’ Dorm. Everyone is dead!] [Rumor has it… two girls from Room 304 snuck out last night. They might be the only survivors…] My heart slammed against my ribs. My phone slipped from my trembling fingers and clattered onto the cheap carpet. I lived in Room 304. 1 I had been entirely absorbed in my show when Sandra suddenly scrambled out of the room like a maniac. It was past eleven at night. The dorm monitors had already locked the main gates. Where the hell was she going? I couldn’t just let her go alone, so I chased her down. “Sandra, what is going on?” When she turned to me, her face was completely drained of color. I had never seen such pure, unadulterated terror in her eyes. She gripped my hand so hard her nails dug into my skin. “If you trust me, you need to leave with me right now.” “What about the others? We’re just going to leave them?” She let out a guttural whisper. “If we worry about them, we die!” My eyes went wide. The rest of my words were snatched away by the chilling night wind. Sandra practically hauled me across the campus grounds. We ran so fast my lungs burned, gasping for air as I blindly followed her off the school premises. Just as we crossed the campus boundary, I started to turn my head to look back at the iron gates. “Don’t look back!” she screamed. She kept her eyes locked dead ahead. In the dim streetlights, her profile looked as cold as stone. “From this exact second forward, no matter what you hear or what you feel, you do not look back. If you do, I will leave you behind.” The sheer intensity of her threat sent a shiver down my spine. I nodded frantically. “Okay. I won’t look.” We found a cheap, cash-only motel near the edge of town and huddled together for the night. Whatever sleepiness I had back at the dorm was entirely gone. I lay there staring at the water-stained ceiling, my mind racing. After hesitating for what felt like hours, I finally whispered into the dark. “Sandra. What happened tonight?” Why did we have to run? And why couldn’t I look back? Her voice drifted over from the other bed, thick with dread. “Harper… we are hiding from It.” My chest tightened. “Who is… It?” “It is unnamable. Unseeable. Unspeakable.” Before I could press further, Sandra cut me off. “Stop asking questions. Try to sleep. We have a lot of ground to cover tomorrow.” I opened my mouth to argue but eventually swallowed my words. A heavy, suffocating anxiety settled over me. Maybe my brain was overloaded, because the moment I finally drifted off, the nightmares began. In the dream, a grotesque, raspy voice kept whispering in my ear, urging me to return. “Go back to campus. Go back. Do not head west.” A blurred face materialized in the darkness. I stepped forward, curious, but just as the features were about to sharpen into focus, someone slapped my shoulder. I jolted awake. Sandra’s pale, exhausted face hovered over me. “Harper, get up. We need to leave. Now.” I threw on my clothes. I had nothing else to pack except my phone. “What’s wrong? Why the rush?” I asked. Sandra slung her backpack over her shoulder, not even glancing my way. “Something happened. We have to get out of Northwood immediately.” Before I could ask what happened, she was dragging me out the door, heading dead west. She rented a heavily modified motorcycle from a shady garage nearby. She revved the engine, and we tore down the highway at terrifying speeds. In just three hours, we reached the county line. She pulled over at a rundown gas station to buy some cheap snacks. Taking advantage of the break, I finally pulled out my phone and connected to the internet. The moment the university forum loaded, the blood in my veins turned to ice. [Hall 6 Girls’ Dorm. Everyone is dead!] [Rumor has it… two girls from Room 304 snuck out last night. They might be the only survivors…] I lived in Room 304. 2 I stood completely paralyzed, the screen glaring back at me. A delayed wave of sheer horror washed over my body. I couldn’t even bring myself to imagine what would have happened if I had stayed in my bed last night. I scrolled through the thread with trembling fingers. The comment section was a mess of wild theories. Serial killer, gas leak, a cult ritual… Hall 6 had six floors. Eight rooms per floor. Four girls to a room. Last night, over a hundred girls died. The sheer magnitude of the number crushed the air out of my lungs. I was drowning in a sickening mix of terror and grief. I didn’t even notice Sandra walking back until she tapped my head. “Why are you spacing out?” she frowned, looking at my frozen posture. I slowly turned the phone toward her, playing a video someone had uploaded to the forum. The footage was shaky. Hall 6 was surrounded by layers of yellow police tape. Medics and heavily armed police officers were rushing in and out, while crowds of sobbing students and staff stood on the periphery. As Sandra processed the headline and the video, her face went totally blank. It took a long time before she finally blinked. “We need to move. We have to find a place to lay low before the sun sets.” “Sandra… you knew this was going to happen, didn’t you?” I asked, my voice shaking uncontrollably. She gave a stiff nod. Her face remained a mask of chalky white. “And if I did? Could I have stopped it?” I shook my head, desperately wanting to say she was wrong. “We could have called the police. They didn’t have to die for nothing.” A bitter, broken smile touched her lips. “The police? Do you think bullets work on It? Calling them would have just dragged us down into the slaughter. Stop being naive, Harper. We are running for our lives. You have no idea what is hunting us. We couldn’t save them. We can only try to save ourselves.” My shoulders shook as the tears finally spilled over. “Why is this happening? Everything was completely normal yesterday.” She pulled me into a tight hug, gently resting her chin on my head. “We aren’t saviors, Harper. Sometimes, you have to be selfish just to survive.” For the past three years, Sandra wasn’t just my roommate; she was my absolute best friend. When she watched that video, the agony in her eyes was just as intense as mine, but she buried it under a layer of cold survival instinct. After a brief, heavy silence, she pulled back and looked me in the eye. “We have to reach Westbridge as fast as humanly possible. It’s the only place we might actually stand a chance.” “Do you trust me? Are you coming with me?” I wiped my eyes and nodded. “I trust you.” I shoved my swirling questions to the back of my mind. Just as we were about to get back on the bike, my phone started buzzing. Unknown caller. Sandra snatched it from my hand and answered it. She didn’t say a single word. She just listened to whatever was on the other end. A moment later, she ended the call. Her expression had darkened considerably. I watched her take a deep, steadying breath. “Let’s go. We can’t afford to stop anymore.” I nodded, reaching for my phone, but she pulled it away. Right in front of my eyes, she popped the SIM cards out of both our phones, snapped them in half, and hurled the devices deep into the overgrown ditch by the road. She didn’t even look at me as she explained, anticipating my panic. “Phones carry our traces. It uses them to pinpoint our location. And we’re going to have to lose a lot more than just our phones.” Her words made sense an hour later. We stopped at an independent thrift store miles away from Northwood. We bought entirely new outfits and tossed our old clothes directly into a dumpster behind a diner. Shoes, jackets, backpacks, everything was replaced. Sandra even ditched her leather wallet, stuffing the loose cash into her new pockets. I climbed back onto the motorcycle, wrapping my arms around her waist. “If we change our stuff, will It lose our scent?” I yelled over the engine. “For a little while,” she shouted back. “We broke out of Its domain. It can’t track us perfectly outside of it.” I understood what she wasn’t saying. This blind spot wouldn’t last forever. Every second It spent searching for us was precious time we had to use to cover ground. Time was bleeding away. We were locked in a literal race against death. 3 I still had no idea what this Entity actually was. But anything that could wipe out an entire dormitory in a single night and force us into a desperate cross-country run had to be something out of a nightmare. I remembered what Sandra had said. Unnamable. Unseeable. Unspeakable. My heart skipped a beat. Just as the thought crossed my mind, that disgusting, raspy voice from my dream hissed right into my ear. “Come back. Do not go west. Come back. Come back right now…” It felt like needles driving into my brain. I buried my face into the back of Sandra’s jacket, clamping my eyes shut and trying to drown out the noise. I lost track of time. It wasn’t until Sandra finally killed the engine that the whispers slowly dissolved into the wind. She grabbed her new bag and turned to me. “We’re on foot from here on out.” I looked around. We were standing on the edge of an abandoned industrial refinery. Ahead of us was a murky creek, flanked by thick, overgrown wildgrass. I didn’t argue. Any questions I had would have to wait until we were safe. I trudged behind Sandra for what felt like miles. We only stopped once to choke down some dry granola bars and gulp warm water. Thank god I used to jog every morning before classes. If I didn’t have that stamina, I would have collapsed in the dirt hours ago. The further we walked, the sparser the vegetation became. Nestled against a cluster of jagged boulders, I spotted a crude, makeshift shelter built out of dried sagebrush and woven branches. It was primitive, but it was our safe house for the night. The moment we stepped inside, the rigid tension in Sandra’s shoulders finally dropped. A thin layer of cold sweat coated her forehead. I handed her a tissue to wipe her face as I inspected the hut. There were no beds, just piles of dried straw on the dirt floor. To me, it looked like a five-star hotel. I collapsed onto the straw, chewed on a piece of stale bread, and finally asked, “Sandra, what exactly are we running from?” A shadow of pure terror flickered in her eyes at the mention of It. She took a tiny bite of her food, chewing slowly, buying time. “It’s not something bound by the laws of science or nature.” I nodded, urging her to keep going. “This shelter… the herbs used to weave these walls were brought in from Westbridge. They mask our presence. Harper, I can’t give you a scientific breakdown of what It is.” “All you need to know is that we cannot look back. We cannot actively think about It. We cannot describe It. If we do, we establish a connection. We act as a beacon.” I swallowed hard, my throat sandpaper-dry. “Then… how did It kill all those girls?” “Because It possesses a domain,” Sandra said, her voice dropping to a terrified whisper. “Once Its domain is cast, everything inside belongs to It. That’s why we had to run. Harper, inside Its domain, It is a god. Snuffing out a hundred lives is as easy as breathing.” A domain. I stared into the dark. The way she described it… It sounded like some ancient, eldritch deity. A heavy sigh broke the silence. “I don’t know who on the sixth floor summoned It. By the time I felt the shift in the air, the only thing I could do was grab you and run. Harper, It had already descended. The dorm became Its feeding ground. We are just human. We had no choice but to run. Please, stop blaming yourself.” She was trying to comfort me, knowing that the guilt of leaving the others behind was eating me alive. Her words managed to soothe the ache a little. I squeezed her hand. “I know. Thank you.” If Sandra hadn’t dragged me out of that room, I would be a corpse on a stretcher right now. But my mind kept spinning. How did Sandra know so much about It? Just as I opened my mouth to ask, a bizarre, sickeningly sweet voice echoed from right outside the woven walls. “Sandra? Harper? Come out, it’s time for class.” It was the voice of the girl who lived next door to us. Sandra’s hand turned instantly to ice. 4 We both stopped breathing. A million invisible spiders crawled up my spine. I forced down the scream building in my throat and locked eyes with Sandra. She gave me a microscopic shake of her head. Do not make a sound. The voice outside continued, upbeat and terribly normal. “Guys, seriously, why aren’t you coming out? We’re going to be late! The professor is going to dock our grades!” That girl was dead. I knew she was dead. So what the hell was standing on the other side of that door? But the voice wasn’t the worst part. The worst part was that the crude wooden door of the shelter was slowly creaking open. An unnatural, freezing wind pushed against the wood. I sat completely paralyzed as the crack widened… and widened… The door was fully open. I could almost see the silhouette of the “student” standing in the gloom. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the silhouette’s mouth stretching into a horribly wide, impossible smile. Smack! Right before I could look directly at the thing, Sandra slammed her hand against the side of my head, forcing my face down. She breathed into my ear, “Do not look up. Do not look at It.” My heart felt like it was going to explode. How did It find us so fast? Because we didn’t answer, the thing outside shifted tactics. The voice warped, melting into the whiny, playful tone of a freshman who lived below us. “Harper, can I borrow your black dress? I really, really love it.” “Harper, why are you ignoring me? I brought you cupcakes. Come out and get them.” “Harper, let’s go downtown to take photos! Just look up at me. Just look at me!” Line after line. It was wearing the voices of my dead friends like cheap Halloween masks, trying to bait me into acknowledging it. Every word It spoke only solidified the horrific reality that my friends had been slaughtered. I clamped my hands over my ears, squeezing my eyes shut. I only had one thought left in my head. I have to live. I have to survive this. The voices kept going for hours, but for some reason, the thing never crossed the threshold. It was as if an invisible barrier kept It at bay. It wasn’t until dawn, when the first slivers of morning light pierced the shelter, that the voices finally evaporated. We had stayed awake all night. When I finally spoke, my voice was cracked and raw. “It’s… gone.” Sandra lifted her head. Her exhausted eyes were fixed on the bottom frame of the doorway. Over the course of a single night, the woven herbs at the threshold had completely rotted away, turned to black ash. “The ward is broken. It’s useless now,” Sandra said, scrambling to her feet. “We have to leave. Right now.” Our safe house had lasted less than twelve hours. We moved with practiced efficiency. Within minutes, we were back on the road. We had barely covered a few miles when a massive explosion ripped through the air behind us. I instinctively threw myself into the dirt. Sandra dropped beside me, her whole body shaking violently. Through chattering teeth, she whispered, “They… they’re here too.” I looked back. The shelter we had just slept in was nothing but a crater of roaring flames and thick black smoke. Besides the Entity, there was another group hunting us? My brain scrambled to put the pieces together, but survival overrode logic. “Run!” We screamed it at the exact same time and scrambled to our feet, sprinting wildly into the brush. We broke through the tall grass and found ourselves staring at an abandoned, rusted oil pipeline cutting through the landscape. “Follow me. Stay close to the pipe,” Sandra commanded. She took the lead, and I trailed closely behind, scanning our surroundings. If we took a bus or a train from Northwood to Westbridge, it would be a two-day trip at most. On foot, through the wilderness, it would take at least a week. And that was assuming we barely slept. I tried to visualize the map in my head. If we followed this pipeline and crossed the rolling hills ahead, we would hit the Westbridge county line. While I was doing the math, an unnatural screeching wind filled my ears. Ahead of me, Sandra’s jacket whipped violently in the gale. My survival instinct flared. “Sandra, get down!” A terrifying gust of wind roared up from behind us. We flattened ourselves against the cold steel of the pipeline, feeling an immense, crushing pressure wash over our bodies.

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1 To save me from terminal cancer, my best friend Sophie and I bound ourselves to the Twin-Destiny System. We successfully captured the hearts of the two Sinclair brothers, becoming the envy of high society. But seven years later, I was left discarded and despised by both my husband and my own son. Meanwhile, Sophie was sent to prison simply for ‘bullying’ her husband’s precious childhood sweetheart. On the day of her release, she looked at me with hollow eyes. “Take care of yourself, Diana.” Then, she sprinted directly into the chaotic traffic. In a heartbeat, a speeding freight truck crushed her delicate frame into a million pieces. … Sophie left this world without a single hesitation. The sheer weight of the agony shattered my mind. The moment I saw her body torn apart on the asphalt, my heart seized, and the world went black. When I finally opened my eyes, the man sitting beside my hospital bed was my workaholic husband. Alexander Sinclair, the untouchable CEO of the Sinclair Empire. It was the first time I had seen him in two months. He shot me a cold, emotionless glance. “You’re awake.” I ignored him entirely, ripping the IV from my arm and stumbling toward the door. In the hallway lounge, his younger brother Sebastian was gently holding a photograph of his childhood sweetheart, his adopted sister Bella. A sickeningly tender smile graced his lips. Seeing their nauseating display of affection brought Sophie’s despair-filled eyes flashing back into my mind. In that instant, every ounce of my rationality burned to ash. I charged forward like a wild animal, lunging at Sebastian and slapping him across the face with everything I had. Bella screamed, jumping to her feet. “Diana! What gives you the right to hit Sebastian?” I answered by driving my palm into her cheek, sending her tumbling onto the leather sofa. “Don’t worry, you little bitch. Your turn is next.” Bella looked up at Sebastian with tear-filled eyes. Her porcelain face was twisted into a mask of pure, pitiful grievance. She whimpered softly. “Sebastian…” Sebastian instantly stepped in front of her, glaring at me. “Diana, have you completely lost your mind? I get it. This is Sophie’s doing. That toxic woman must have poisoned your head with lies again!” That bastard. Protecting his mistress was one thing, but using this moment to trample on Sophie’s name was unforgivable. I swung at him again, landing blow after blow as I screamed, “You drove her to her death, and you still have the nerve to blame her? You murderer! Sophie’s only mistake was not dragging you two vile pieces of trash to hell with her!” Sebastian froze, his face draining of color. “What… what did you just say? Sophie is dead?” Of course. They didn’t know yet. Today was supposed to be the day she left prison, signed the divorce papers, and started a brand new life far away from the Sinclairs. But Bella had deliberately gone to the prison gates to torment her, pushing Sophie into taking that final, fatal step. Alexander grabbed my wrist from behind, his brows knitting in sharp displeasure. “Diana, stop this! Are you insane?” I twisted out of his grip and slapped him squarely across the jaw. In his shocked eyes, I saw the reflection of my own deranged, tear-streaked face. “What? I hit your precious brother, and suddenly you know how to intervene? Where were you when they were teaming up to torture my Sophie? Were you deaf, or just dead?” Alexander’s expression turned glacial. “If she hadn’t used underhanded tactics to drug Sebastian and force him into bed, he never would have looked twice at her. She calculated every step just to climb the social ladder into the Sinclair family. Now that she finally secured her spot as a Sinclair wife, why would she ever kill herself? Diana, stop letting her manipulate you.” Bella chimed in from the sofa. “He’s right. I even heard someone say they saw Sophie walking down the street earlier today. Diana, she’s playing you. You care about her so much, but she’s just using you to tear our family apart. Her intentions are malicious.” A flicker of relief passed through Sebastian’s eyes as he readily swallowed their lies. His anger returned in full force. “I never realized just how deeply manipulative Sophie truly is. Diana, you tell her this for me. If she tries to drive another wedge between us, I will divorce her for real!” Looking at the absolute hypocrisy of these three, a roaring fire consumed my chest. Yes, Sophie had taken advantage of a chaotic situation to accelerate the marriage. But she wasn’t the one who drugged him that night. She offered herself to Sebastian solely to complete the System’s mission faster, desperate to save my life. She only cared about keeping me breathing. She never gave a damn about the Sinclair fortune. But the foolish girl had accidentally fallen in love with a monster. I remembered her blushing face as she once told me, “Diana, marrying Sebastian is the best thing I’ve ever done. I’m going to give him a house full of kids and love him until our hair turns gray!” And in the end? All she got was a heartless betrayal and hair matted with her own blood on the pavement. The pain in my chest was so sharp I could barely breathe. I slapped Alexander one more time, my voice trembling with raw hatred. “If you insult Sophie one more time, I will kill you.” Before the words fully left my mouth, a small shadow launched itself at me like a cannonball, knocking me hard against the floor. It was my seven-year-old son, Oliver. He glared at me with pure venom. “Don’t you dare hit my dad! Get out! We don’t want you here!” 2 Seeing Oliver look at me with the fierce hatred of an enemy felt like a sledgehammer crushing my ribs. Truthfully, Alexander and I never had a grand, sweeping romance. From the very beginning, I knew he didn’t marry me out of love. He only used me to rebel against his controlling mother. And I willingly became his pawn just to secure the life points I needed to survive my cancer. But before we had a child, we actually shared a quiet, respectful life. There were moments of genuine warmth. I had foolishly believed we might grow old together like a normal couple. Everything changed the day Oliver was born. Alexander’s mother took my baby away from me. She claimed a woman of my background was unfit to raise a Sinclair heir. She moved Oliver into the main estate and hired an elite live-in nanny. I was only allowed to visit my own son during strictly scheduled appointments. I begged Alexander, crying until my voice broke, asking him to bring Oliver home. His family only mocked me. I thought my husband would stand up for me. Instead, he looked at me with cold incomprehension. “Do you honestly believe you can provide a better upbringing for him than my parents can?” In his eyes, his son was destined to be molded into a corporate titan, a flawless machine just like him. He never felt that a child needed a mother’s warmth. Nor did he care that a mother needed her child. That was the exact day whatever small affection I had for Alexander Sinclair was completely extinguished. Oliver’s growing coldness and disgust toward me finally erased any reason I had left to stay in this house. If it weren’t for staying close to Sophie, I would have escaped this gilded cage years ago. And now, she was gone. It was time for me to leave the Sinclairs and this house full of monsters behind. Once my mind was made up, I cut all contact with the family. I went straight to the funeral home to handle Sophie’s arrangements. Her body was too shattered to be pieced completely back together. Thankfully, this foolish girl who always loved looking pretty had managed to keep her face relatively intact. After the mortician’s careful work, she looked beautiful and peaceful once again. Hot tears spilled down my cheeks as I stood by her casket. “I’m so sorry, Sophie. If you didn’t have to keep me alive, you never would have married that bastard… Dammit… it should have been me!” That same afternoon, Sophie was moved to the incinerator. I paid the staff extra to let me stay and watch her final moments in this world. I thought I had accepted her death. But watching the roaring flames consume her, a visceral, tearing pain ripped through my soul. Thirty years of memories flashed before my eyes. I saw her smiling face. I heard her sweet, teasing voice. “You’re going to be my best friend forever, right, Diana?” In a split second, something completely snapped inside me. I stood up, stepping toward the raging fire. “I’m right here, Sophie. I’ll come with you.” I lunged toward the incinerator doors, but a strong pair of arms yanked me backward. It was an older staff member. He held me back with a desperate grip. “Don’t do it, kid! Your friend wouldn’t want you throwing your life away like this!” The shock of his voice pulled me back to reality. I raised my hand and slapped myself hard across the face. What the hell was I doing? Sophie’s murderers were still living comfortably. How could I die before making them pay? An hour later, I walked numbly through the corridors of the funeral home, clutching Sophie’s urn to my chest. Suddenly, a sickeningly familiar, melodramatic crying echoed from down the hall. I turned my head and saw Alexander, Sebastian, and Bella standing in a mourning parlor right next to Sophie’s. Bella was weeping hysterically. Sebastian had his arm wrapped tightly around her shoulders, whispering sweet comforts into her ear. So they finally believed Sophie was dead. But to bring his mistress to the funeral home? Did Sebastian want Sophie’s soul to know no peace? I stormed into the parlor, my voice trembling with rage. “Sebastian, you brought this whore here? Do you have no conscience left?” But as I stepped closer, the words died in my throat. They weren’t here for Sophie. In the center of the parlor, surrounded by lavish white flowers, was a framed photograph of a small pet turtle. Bella was cradling a tiny, custom-made urn, crying as if her world had ended. She looked like a fragile, heartbroken victim. Alexander stepped forward, his voice a low, warning growl. “Diana, what kind of psychotic episode are you having now?” His eyes dropped to the black urn pressed tightly against my chest. His brow furrowed. “Why are you here? And what… what is that in your hands?” I let out a bitter, hollow laugh. “What does it look like? Your mother’s ashes?” Alexander was stunned by the venom in my voice. Before he could snap back, Bella sniffled and looked at me with wide, innocent eyes. “Diana, why are you doing this? Don’t tell me you’re still trying to push that lie about Sophie being dead. Nobody here is going to believe you. Just leave. I don’t want strangers ruining Tommy the Turtle’s funeral.” Sebastian immediately chimed in. “She’s right. Diana, get out.” 3 A blinding rage overtook me. I surged forward, slapping the tiny urn right out of Bella’s hands. It shattered on the marble floor. “Your actual wife dies, and you don’t even bat an eye! You mock her! But a damn turtle dies, and you book a luxury parlor and mourn it like it’s your flesh and blood? Sebastian, you make me sick!” Bella let out an ear-piercing shriek. “Ah! Tommy! My Tommy! Diana, why are you so evil?!” I sneered. “I’m evil? Your turtle dying is karma! The ones who deserve to be in these urns are you two!” To my shock, Oliver charged at me, his small face flushed with anger. “You bad woman! Don’t you dare yell at my uncle and Bella! She loves her turtle like family because she has a kind heart! You have no right to be mean to her!” I ground my teeth together. “Shut your mouth, you foolish little brat! Aunt Sophie loved you! She treated you like gold! And you repay her by defending these monsters? You’re just as blind and ungrateful as the rest of this rotten family!” Bella immediately stepped in, playing the saint. “Diana, please, don’t yell at Oliver. I know you hate me. But you can’t help who you fall in love with!” She suddenly stepped closer, grabbing my forearm in a desperate, pleading grip. “I know you resent me, but please, leave us alone! The baby in my womb is innocent. Stop this… I’ll leave Sebastian. I’ll disappear forever.” Alarm bells rang in my head. I tried to yank my arm away, but before I could even apply force, Bella threw herself backward, putting on a pathetic display of being violently shoved. Sebastian’s face went white. He dove forward, catching her before she hit the floor. “Bella!” he screamed in panic. Alexander erupted. He lunged at me, his fingers digging painfully into my arm. “Don’t touch me!” I thrashed against him. Seeing me protect the urn, Alexander’s eyes narrowed in disgust. He forcefully ripped the black box from my grasp. “Even now, you’re still putting on this sick play!” My heart stopped. Before I could scream, I watched helplessly as Alexander hurled Sophie’s urn against the hard floor. The ceramic shattered. The gray ashes spilled across the polished marble. “Alexander, I’ll kill you!” I shrieked, my voice tearing my throat. I dropped to my knees, frantically trying to scoop the dust into my hands. But Oliver ran over and viciously kicked the broken pieces of the urn, scattering Sophie’s ashes even further across the room. All logic vanished. I lunged at the boy, my fingers wrapping tightly around his throat. He stared up at me, his eyes wide with genuine terror as he saw the murderous hatred on my face. Alexander grabbed my wrists, twisting them painfully until I let go. He hauled me up from the floor by my collar. His dark eyes boiled with a lethal fury. “Diana, you laid hands on your own son. You really have gone completely insane. Today, I am going to teach you a lesson you will never forget.” He dragged me forcefully out of the room and shoved me into the dark, silent parlor next door. But as he stepped inside and looked at the empty, shadowy room, he hesitated for a fraction of a second. His grip on my shoulder was bone-crushing. My arm felt like it was being ripped from the socket. Alexander looked at me like I was the most vile creature on earth, pinning me against the wall to force an apology for Bella. “This is your last warning, Diana. If you don’t apologize to Bella right now, I am filing for divorce.” A second later, Sebastian walked into the parlor, carrying a weeping Bella in his arms. He looked down at me like a god showing mercy to a peasant. “Diana, no matter what twisted games Sophie played, she is still technically my wife. If you just get on your knees and sincerely apologize to Bella…” My body shook with absolute fury. I leaned forward and sank my teeth deeply into Alexander’s wrist. He grunted in pain and released me. I darted toward the altar table at the front of the room. I grabbed the black cloth covering the center frame and ripped it away. With a scream, I threw the heavy wooden portrait directly at Sebastian’s face. “You all deserve to die! Every single one of you!” The portrait struck Sebastian hard. “You think I’m lying? Open your damn eyes and look at whose funeral this is!” Blood immediately began to trickle down Sebastian’s forehead. The portrait clattered to the floor, landing face up. Staring back at them was the beautiful, tragic face of Sophie. 4 Sebastian stood frozen, looking as if he had been struck by lightning. His trembling hands slowly reached down to pick up the photograph. “No… no, it’s impossible. How could she be dead? She was only sentenced to three months… I just wanted to teach her a lesson…” Alexander’s expression shifted into profound shock and regret. He looked at me, his mouth opening, but no words came out. Suddenly, Sebastian’s eyes snapped toward the hallway. Pure horror contorted his features. “The urn… the ashes…” I pushed past them, dropping to the floor in the hallway, painstakingly scooping the scattered gray dust back into the broken remnants of the box. Sebastian rushed over, dropping to his knees to help me. I shoved him backward with all my strength. “Get off! You have no right to touch her!” Sebastian stayed kneeling on the marble floor, tears finally spilling down his cheeks. “I’m sorry… God, I’m so sorry…” Just then, Bella clutched her stomach, her face twisting in agony. “Sebastian… my stomach hurts so much… The baby… I think something is wrong with the baby.” Sebastian froze. He looked at me, torn. But after only a second of hesitation, he stood up and lifted Bella into his arms. Look at that. Even knowing Sophie had been burned to ash, he still chose Bella. Bella sobbed against his chest, playing the understanding martyr. “Sebastian, just call an ambulance… I can go to the hospital alone. You… you should stay here with Sophie.” “No,” Sebastian said, his voice tight with worry. “Right now, you are the most important thing.” He shot me a deeply guilty look. “Diana, I’ll take her to the emergency room and come right back.” I didn’t even lift my head. My eyes remained dead and vacant as I continued sweeping the dust into my hands. But as I heard his footsteps fading down the hall, a bitter sorrow washed over me. Sophie gave everything for this man. This was the man she loved. A moment later, Alexander marched Oliver back into the hallway. He forced the boy to his knees in front of me. Oliver seemed to finally realize the gravity of what he had done. He kneeled quietly, his head bowed. I didn’t want to look at either of them. Alexander frowned, his voice stiff and awkward. “I… I didn’t know Sophie was actually… But if she hadn’t tormented Bella in the past, we wouldn’t have assumed she was lying.” I looked up at him. This man, whom time and wealth had treated so kindly, was the same man who once made my heart race. Now, he looked as repulsive as a rat crawling out of a sewer. My voice was dead calm. “Let’s get a divorce.” Alexander flinched. “Are you crazy?” I let out a dry laugh. “You’re the crazy one. What makes you think I’d stay married to you after watching you desecrate Sophie’s remains?” He gestured toward the boy on the floor. “What about Oliver? He’s your son. I thought all you ever wanted was to bring him home and raise him yourself.” I stared at Oliver with absolute disgust. “I don’t want him anymore. He’s nothing but the toxic byproduct of Sinclair genetics.” The cemetery staff finally arrived. I ignored Alexander entirely and followed them to the burial grounds. After Sophie’s plot was sealed, I stood there tracing the outline of her photograph on the cold stone. Remembering the thirty years of laughter we shared, the grief finally swallowed me whole. As I walked out of the cemetery gates, Alexander’s car pulled up. He looked exhausted. He stared at me, his brow heavily furrowed. There was a trace of pity in his eyes, but his words remained clinical. “I understand you are grieving. But Sophie chose to end her own life. You shouldn’t take your anger out on an innocent child. And you shoved Bella. She almost suffered a miscarriage. She’s in the hospital right now trying to save the pregnancy.” I looked at him with ice in my veins. “Did you rush all the way out here just to demand justice for her?” Alexander looked genuinely stung by my tone. “Do you have to speak to me like that? Do you have any idea what my mother would do to you if I hadn’t stepped in to protect you?” Of course. The entire Sinclair family adored Bella. She was the daughter of his mother’s late best friend, the adopted golden child of the estate. And now she was carrying a Sinclair heir. “Are you done?” I asked coldly. “If you’re done, get the hell out of my sight.” I walked past him. He grabbed my arm, pulling me forcefully against his chest. His eyes softened with frustration and helplessness. “Diana, please stop this tantrum. Come home. “I know losing Sophie hurts. But the living are more important than the dead. Don’t you realize I haven’t slept a wink since you left? Oliver regrets what he did. He’s been crying, asking for his mother. “Come home. We will stay by your side. We can heal from this together.” Hearing those words, I actually laughed out loud. I laughed until the tears started falling again. I shoved him away with violent force. “Alexander, what gave you the arrogant delusion that you and your son could ever compare to my Sophie? “Let me tell you the truth. I only married you to stay alive. I never loved you. I certainly don’t love your son. Everything about the Sinclair family makes me physically sick!” Alexander stared at me, completely paralyzed. “What… what did you say?” I turned away. “Go tell your pathetic brother to wait. When his precious baby is finally born, I’ll be sure to deliver a spectacular gift.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “403315”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Every Christmas since we married, Declan booked three international plane tickets. They were for him, his daughter Daisy, and his ex-wife. It was a tradition that started before I came into his life, and it continued year after year. When his phone rang with the special tone he had set for them, he answered right away. Daisy wanted to go to Switzerland this year, to the place where he and her mother once planned to marry. “She keeps asking what I would look like in a wedding dress there,” his ex said, her voice bright and amused. Declan did not hesitate. He began making arrangements for a bridal gown fitting for Daisy. His ex-wife paused, then asked, “But what about Vivian?” “Vivian understands,” Declan replied, not lowering his voice even though I was sitting beside him. “She would not be upset with a child. I promised Daisy she would be my only child. It is only a dress. Her happiness comes first.” My hand closed around the ultrasound report in my pocket. I smoothed the paper gently, then released it. All right, Declan. If your promise is to have only one child, then my child and I will help you keep that promise. 1 Declan flew back to Boston right on our wedding anniversary. The moment he walked through the door, he pulled a signature orange designer box from behind his back. But before he could even hand it to me, that familiar music box melody chimed again. He froze for a second, then answered it anyway. “I am busy right now.” On the other end of the line, his ex-wife Vanessa spoke through thick, theatrical sobs. “I know you are busy. But Daisy just got home and she has been crying hysterically for you.” Declan’s posture instantly went rigid. “Did you tell her I didn’t want her again?” He hung up the phone and looked at me, his eyes swimming with genuine guilt. He lowered his voice, adopting that soft, placating tone I knew too well. “You have been mentioning how much you love this bag. Look, I really need to check on Daisy. Vanessa cannot handle her alone…” Before I could say a word, he turned around and walked right back out the door. I was already used to it. As long as his ex-wife and daughter needed something, I would forever be second place. By ten o’clock that night, Declan still had not returned. My phone vibrated on the nightstand. Declan’s voice sounded heavy with exhaustion. “I won’t be able to come home for the next couple of days.” “Vanessa’s mother has terminal cancer. We have been keeping our divorce a secret from her so she doesn’t lose hope. I need to go back to their hometown with them and stay for a few days…” Listening to the hum of the highway tires through the receiver, a hollow laugh escaped my lips. “So your perfect family of three is already on the road, and you are only telling me now?” My chest felt incredibly tight. I pressed end before he could utter another excuse. 2 Declan returned to the city three days later. The very first thing he did was rush to his office to put out corporate fires. By the time he finally got home, the sun was setting. I was just walking through the front door myself. He reached out tentatively, trying to pull me into a hug. Even his embrace felt drained and obligatory. “Thank you for holding the fort these past few days, honey.” I shifted the heavy bags of groceries in my hands, forcing a faint smile. “I have something to tell you. But you look dead on your feet. Go get some sleep first.” Seeing that I wasn’t throwing a tantrum, his shoulders finally dropped. He slipped off his jacket and collapsed into the sofa. “Okay. Whatever my wife is cooking, I am eating every last bite.” He was fast asleep before he even finished the sentence. Playing the devoted son-in-law to a dying woman while taking care of his ex-wife and child must have been truly exhausting. I stood there in the quiet living room, gripping my medical report. I squeezed the paper several times, but in the end, I couldn’t bring myself to wake him. The next day was Saturday. I had lost all appetite for cooking, so I told Declan to take me out. Knowing he was in the wrong, he canceled a string of morning meetings, kept his phone on silent, and spent the entire car ride carefully making small talk. I picked a quiet, upscale sushi lounge. As I set the menu aside, he slid a velvet jewelry box across the table. Inside was a stunning, custom engraved gold bangle. The exact one I had liked on Instagram just yesterday. I snapped the box shut and looked up at him. He didn’t say anything. He just watched me with a soft, indulgent smile. The warm amber lighting of the restaurant softened the sharp angles of his face, making him look incredibly tender. For a fleeting second, my anger began to melt. Maybe it was time to tell him. I pulled my lips into a small smile. “So, I wanted to tell you…” Before the words fully left my mouth, Declan’s eyes darted to his phone screen lighting up on the table. The tenderness vanished, replaced by a flash of annoyance, quickly followed by deep anxiety. “Vanessa has called twenty times. I am worried something happened to Daisy. Let me just step outside and call her back, okay?” He didn’t wait for my answer. He grabbed his phone, pushed his chair back, and hurried out of the private dining room. When he returned, he wore an expression I had memorized by heart. A thin layer of guilt masking a total mental absence. I looked at him standing there, struggling to find the right excuse. I suddenly felt so incredibly tired. “Declan. If you walk out of here today, I promise you will regret it.” “Vivian.” His tone dropped, laced with clear displeasure. “Don’t do this right now. Daisy had a severe allergic reaction and is in the emergency room. Vanessa simply cannot handle this by herself.” A bitter scoff clawed its way out of my throat. “She has no friends? No family? She can’t afford to hire a private nurse?” The guilt in Declan’s eyes evaporated, replaced entirely by cold anger. “I am Daisy’s father! You…” He turned around and walked out to get his coat. He didn’t finish his sentence, but I heard it loud and clear in my head. [She isn’t your kid, so of course your heart doesn’t ache for her.] There was a hierarchy to emergencies in his life. And my matters would never, ever reach the top of his list. A few moments later, the waitress gently opened the sliding door. Seeing that I was completely alone, she pressed her lips together and asked softly, “Miss, would you like boxes for the rest of this? Are you about finished?” I looked up at her. I couldn’t tell if my vision was blurred from the steam of the green tea or the tears welling in my eyes. I gave a slow nod. “Yes. I am about finished.” 3 Later that evening, I called Declan’s number. His ex-wife answered the phone. “Her dad just fell asleep next to Daisy. I will go wake him up.” “Don’t bother. It isn’t important.” Vanessa ignored my dismissal, continuing in a sickeningly sweet tone. “Her dad is just like this. He promised Daisy she would be the only child he ever has, so he spoils her rotten.” Listening to her gloat, my fingers dug into the edge of my pregnancy report. If Daisy was his only child, then what the hell was growing inside my stomach? The very next afternoon, Vanessa showed up at my front door. When I opened it, she gave me a polite, practiced nod. But her eyes immediately darted over my shoulder, critically assessing the house. It was a beautiful two-story brick colonial we had purchased after our wedding. I had designed and decorated every single inch of it myself. Clearly, it wasn’t to her taste. But right now, the only thing I found distasteful was her uninvited presence. “Can I help you?” She pulled her gaze back and offered a thin, calculated smile. “Daisy’s dad is going to wait until her fever breaks before coming home. I came to pack a few changes of clothes for him.” I didn’t blink. I turned my head and called out to my housekeeper. “Martha. Please grab the black duffel bag from his side of the walk-in closet.” When Martha brought it down, I pushed the heavy bag toward Vanessa. “There is enough in there to last him a while.” Vanessa took the handles, eyeing Martha before looking back at me with a complicated expression. “Right.” I reached out to shut the door, but she quickly wedged her hand against the frame. She bit her lower lip, forcing out a quiet, hesitant sentence. “You know, back when we first got married, he promised to build me a little garden just like the one you have out front.” I had no idea why she was telling me this. Did she honestly think I, the woman who met Declan two full years after their divorce, would feel guilty? Martha stepped forward, her face stern. “Mrs. Wright needs to rest now.” Without another word, Martha firmly shut the door in Vanessa’s face. I let out a tired laugh. “Martha, have you been watching too many soap operas? Since when do you call me Mrs. Wright?” Martha had been working for me since before I even got married. She looked at me with deep, protective frustration. “Vivian, you are just too soft! His ex-wife comes marching up to your doorstep. Do you really not see what she is trying to do?” I offered a bitter smile. Of course I saw it. Vanessa using her daughter’s health to blur the boundaries and hint at a reconciliation wasn’t anything new. She had done it dozens of times. “The problem isn’t her.” The problem was Declan. Martha poured me a glass of warm milk. Her eyes drifted down to my flat stomach. She looked completely heartbroken. “You still haven’t told Mr. Wright?” I shook my head. “You stubborn girl.” That night, Declan finally called to ask if I was asleep. “Where are you right now?” I asked quietly. “I am at a hotel near Vanessa’s place. Work has been a nightmare lately, and every time Daisy wakes up and doesn’t see me, she starts crying. I really can’t pull myself away.” His exhausted voice was laced with a desperate need for me to yield. “I know I was in the wrong at the restaurant the other day. I am so sorry. Did you see the transfer I sent you?” I had. That afternoon, a massive sum of money had hit my bank account. It was his classic playbook for buying forgiveness. A lump formed in my throat, choking off my air. “Declan, can you please just come home? I…” He cut me off. His tone was gentle, but the underlying impatience was impossible to miss. “You have always been the understanding one. Just give me a few more days, alright? Go to sleep.” The dial tone echoed in my ear. He had chosen someone else. Again. From the day we started dating, I had been constantly forced to be “understanding.” That single word was a physical weight crushing the breath out of my lungs. To the outside world, Declan was the ultimate catch. Even as a divorced man, he was wealthy, handsome, and fiercely responsible to his child. To me, he was generous and attentive. Our life looked absolutely flawless on paper. Only I knew that beneath the beautiful facade, this marriage was riddled with bullet holes. 4 Declan finally came home at dawn, two days later. I had been working brutal overtime hours, so I took the morning off to catch up on sleep. When I opened my eyes, I found him kneeling beside the bed. One of his hands was wrapped tightly around my wrist, his forehead resting against the mattress. The moment I tried to pull my hand away, he woke up. Declan gently pressed me back down, brushing a stray lock of hair behind my ear. His voice was thick with sleep. “You’re awake? Are you feeling sick? What do you want to eat?” I didn’t want to talk to him. I just wanted to get out of bed. He let out a heavy sigh. He stayed on his knees, shifting closer to press a soft kiss to the back of my hand. His eyes were rimmed with red, though I couldn’t tell if it was from exhaustion or crying. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Martha must have lost her patience and told him herself. “I only found out recently myself. Let me up.” He quickly stood to help me sit up against the headboard, his hands lingering carefully on my shoulders. “What are you craving? Martha cooks a bit too salty, so I already hired a specialized maternity nutritionist. Martha will stay on just to keep you company. I also hired a landscaping crew so you don’t have to bend over to prune your flowers anymore. Your job is too stressful. Why don’t you quit and come work at my company?” He kept rambling, listing off arrangements. The crushing fatigue of the past few days seemed completely washed away by the news. He was genuinely happy. But every single arrangement he made was flawlessly efficient. Practiced. Because this wasn’t his first time doing this. A sharp, acidic bitterness pooled in my stomach. Sensing my dark mood, Declan stopped talking. He leaned in, trying to kiss me. When I turned my face away, he grabbed my hand tighter. He placed his other, perfectly warm palm flat against my lower abdomen. His eyes were filled with desperate sincerity. “I know I made you miserable these past few days. But I swear to you…” “I will treat this baby just as well as I treat Daisy.” There was a rare, pleading vulnerability in his gaze. “Please don’t be angry anymore, okay? It isn’t good for your body. You can punish me however you want. Anything you ask, I will do it.” I slowly pulled my hand out of his grip and looked him dead in the eye. “So, are you going to tell Vanessa and Daisy?” The light in his eyes instantly dimmed. His heavy hesitation gave me all the answers I needed. The bitterness in my heart bled into a mocking, frozen smile on my lips. “What? Is our child a dirty secret? Or do you expect me to keep being ‘understanding’?” “Understanding that you will only ever acknowledge Daisy as your child in public?” He panicked, cutting me off. “What do you mean, a secret? The entire company has known you are my wife since the day we got engaged!” I shoved his hand away. He had to grip my shoulders to force me to look at him. “Just wait until the baby is a little older. Maybe one or two years old. When Daisy actually sees her little brother or sister, she will naturally accept them.” My nails dug so hard into my palms they drew blood. I finally screamed at him. “Why the hell should they have to wait?!” Why does a child, born perfectly legally into our marriage, have to wait in the shadows for someone else’s permission to exist? Why do I, a woman who did absolutely nothing wrong, have to constantly pay the emotional tax for his failed marriage? Declan’s eyes turned cold. He tightened his grip on my shoulders, using the same commanding stare he used to subjugate board members at his company. Then, he finally said the words I knew he had been holding in his chest for years. “You knew exactly what my situation was before you married me, Vivian. I never lied to you.” 5 That screaming match ended with us sleeping in separate rooms. It marked the beginning of a suffocating, icy cold war. Between the crushing fatigue of my first trimester and my high-pressure job, I was passing out the second my head hit the pillow every night. But at midnight, the ringtone echoing from the guest room down the hall still woke me up. Even with my door shut tight and the blankets pulled over my head, Vanessa’s drunken, sobbing voice slithered through the cracks. I was used to this too. On my birthday, our anniversary, Valentine’s Day, or Thanksgiving, she always, without fail, found a reason to stage a crisis. I was just about to pull the duvet back over my head when my bedroom door slowly clicked open. Declan stepped quietly into the room, clearly checking to see if I was awake. I sat straight up and stared at him. By some sick coincidence, we were both wearing the matching silk pajamas we bought on our honeymoon. Staring at each other in the dark room, it felt unbelievably pathetic. “Vanessa drank too much again,” he said, breaking the heavy silence. He kept his eyes fixed on the floor. “Daisy is home alone with her. I need to go check on them. I will be back soon.” I looked at the heavy wool coat already draped over his arm. “You know this is going to make me angry, right?” He pressed his lips into a hard line. The days of cold war had left him looking absolutely drained, yet his attitude remained gentle but unyielding. “Don’t overthink this. Daisy is just a little kid. I will be back before you know it. You are pregnant. Just get some rest.” I walked out to the second-floor landing. I gripped the wooden railing and watched the little glass suncatcher hanging by the front door sway gently as he closed the heavy oak door behind him. We had bought that suncatcher on our very first vacation together. Under a sky full of fireworks, he had smiled at me and promised that every single day of our future would be filled with sunlight. But the sun wasn’t going to shine anymore. The next time we stood face to face, I was going to ask for a divorce. 6 Two days later, I finally saw Declan again. Inside a hospital room. And Vanessa was there too. My hospital visit wasn’t a major crisis. I had been rear-ended on my way to work. The doctor simply recommended I stay for a 48-hour observation due to the pregnancy. When Declan burst into my hospital room, the sheer, frantic terror on his face and the explosive rage he unleashed on the poor driver who hit me almost made me forget we were in the middle of a cold war. “I am so sorry.” The driver stood there, looking completely miserable. “I just zoned out for a second. I will cover all the medical bills.” “Who gives a damn about your money?!” Declan practically snarled, cutting the man off. He stared at me with agonizing relief before whipping his head back to the driver. “If anything happens to my wife or my baby, I will destroy your life.” Seeing him play the fiercely protective husband was a jarring, ironic contrast to the sight of his back walking out on me two nights ago. I let out a soft laugh and told the driver he could leave. “The doctor said I am perfectly fine. Besides… Mr. Wright is a very busy man. Who disturbed you enough to bring you all the way down here?” My sarcastic jab made the veins in the back of his hand bulge. “Your dashcam is linked to my cloud account. Vivian, can we please stop fighting?” He opened the thermos of warm soup he had brought with him, pushing it toward me with a pleading look. “You practically scared me to death today.” I was just about to answer when someone knocked on the door. The knock and the door swinging open happened almost simultaneously. It was Vanessa. She also had access to Declan’s vehicle tracking. Because Daisy was “used to her father’s car,” Vanessa borrowed his spare SUV all the time. “Phew, I tracked your car’s GPS all the way here. I had to ask four different nurses to find the right room.” Vanessa panted slightly, pushing the door shut behind her. “Vivian, are you feeling any better?” Declan frowned. He instinctively stepped in front of my bed, shielding me. “What are you doing here?” Vanessa immediately slipped into the tone of a complaining, exasperated wife. “What do you think? You weren’t answering your phone, so I had to track you down. Daisy’s parent-teacher conference is in an hour. You promised her you would go. Did you completely forget?” Realization dawned on Declan’s face. He subconsciously glanced back at me. I let out a sharp, mocking laugh. Hearing that, he pulled back his gaze and shook his head slightly at Vanessa. “You go this time.” Vanessa’s friendly smile vanished. She shot me a dirty look, and her eyes instantly filled with tears of betrayal. “Excuse me? Declan, just because you have a new baby on the way, you are completely abandoning Daisy?!” Before Declan could even open his mouth to defend himself, she steamrolled right over him, playing the fierce protector of her child. “Daisy talks about how much she loves Auntie Vivian every single day! And this is how you two repay her? By pushing her aside like garbage?!” “That is enough!” Declan’s brow furrowed deeply. “My wife was just in a car accident and is under medical observation. Can’t you handle one school meeting by yourself?” “I don’t care!” Vanessa glared at me, her voice breaking into a dramatic sob. “Daisy still doesn’t know you are having a new baby. If you don’t show up today, I am telling her the truth. It is exactly like they say. A stepmother makes a stepfather.” “Get out.” I cut her off with a voice made of pure ice. I clutched my stomach, fighting back a wave of nausea. “Get out of my room.” Vanessa froze. She clearly hadn’t expected me to drop all pretense of politeness. She immediately looked at Declan for backup. Seeing that Declan was already reaching for the nurse call button to have her removed, Vanessa’s face flushed with fury. “Fine! I am leaving. Enjoy your precious bed rest.” The door slammed shut with a deafening crack. I closed my eyes, my voice hollow. “If you want to go with her, go.” Declan grabbed my shoulders, his eyes searching my face desperately. “I will only be gone for two hours, max. If anything hurts, anything at all, you call me immediately. Okay?” He pushed the bowl of soup aside. “This is already cold. I will have them make a fresh batch. Wait for me.” The door clicked shut again. The exact second Declan’s shadow disappeared from the frosted glass window, my phone buzzed. A text message popped up on the screen. [Your appointment for the medical termination has been confirmed.] Declan. This time, no one is going to wait for you.

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I rescued a little cat who could turn into a boy. To thank me, he offered to set me up with his uncle. Things heated up, and one thing led to another. As the passion peaked, he whispered in my ear. “A leopard’s… equipped with barbs. Tell me if it hurts.” Lost in the haze of desire, I heard those words and violently shoved him off me. “What leopard? Aren’t you a cute little kitty?” Professor Streep, now sprawled rather ungracefully on the floor, picked himself up. His brow was furrowed, his expression one you’d give a complete idiot. “Nora, you can’t tell the difference between a house cat and a leopard?” 1 “Miss, are you going to send me to a lab to be cut open?” I stared down at the little boy, my expression grave. “Please don’t send me away. Pip’s scared of pain. Pip doesn’t want to be a science experiment.” Before I could even respond, the boy, a fluffy tail swishing behind him, burst into tears. He looked so utterly pathetic that my heart melted on the spot. There was no room for hesitation now. I scooped him into my arms. “I’m not thinking that at all. Don’t cry, don’t cry. I was just wondering what exactly you… are.” The words died on my lips. That didn’t sound right. But I was genuinely at a loss. What kind of creature was he? A little cat-boy, with actual ears and a tail? “No, no, I’m not sending you to any lab,” I soothed. “But you have to tell me… what’s the deal with…” I gestured toward the tail behind his back and the furry ears atop his head. “Is this for some kindergarten play or something?” Though, I knew no costume prop could ever be this realistic. When I’d accidentally brushed against it earlier, I could have sworn I felt the warmth of his tail. Sniffling, the little cat-boy pulled away from my hug. 2 Though his face was streaked with tears, he managed to reach up and touch his ears and tail. “These?” “Yes.” “Everyone in my family has them! Don’t you, miss? Oh, wait. A grown-up like you should be able to hide your tail really well.” He added, “Mommy says I’m still little, so my control is not so good.” My brain short-circuited. Everyone in his family… so… He wasn’t the only cat-person out there? Had the world gone mad? Or was it me? Before I could fully process this new reality, Pip patted his small stomach. “Miss, I’m hungry.” I sighed. Fine. Human or cat, a hungry belly was a hungry belly. I wasn’t sure what Pip could eat in human form, so I avoided anything that might upset a feline stomach. Watching the little cat-boy happily munching away, I felt a wave of helplessness wash over me. What was I even doing? I’d found Pip in a back alley. I was just passing by when the heavens opened up, a torrential downpour. A strange noise from the alley had caught my attention, and when I went to investigate, I saw Pip, his little cat ears and tail peeking out. So how was I supposed to contact his family now? Surely his kind had a way of finding each other, right? “Miss, are you single?” Pip suddenly leaned in close, his beautiful eyes fixed on me. “S-single, yes. Why?” “To repay you for saving my life, I want to introduce you to my uncle! What do you think?” “Huh?” Kid, you can’t even fend for yourself right now, and you’re already worried about your uncle’s love life? 3 I placed a hand on Pip’s forehead and gently pushed him back. “You just focus on your dinner. I’ll figure out how to get you home later.” “Oh, okay. But my uncle is really handsome.” “Right.” “And he’s rich! Not stingy at all! He’s the most generous person in our whole family!” “Zip it.” “You really don’t want to meet him?” “Tuck your tail in.” He finally quieted down, and I could think. Just as I swatted away Pip’s tail from my ankle for what felt like the tenth time, the doorbell rang. I had no idea who was outside, but one thing was certain: no one could see Pip like this. I wouldn’t turn him over to a lab, but that didn’t mean someone else wouldn’t. I grabbed a blanket and draped it over Pip from behind, completely hiding him from view. “Be a good boy. Don’t take this off, or I’ll be very cross.” “Okay!” Once he was hidden, I went to answer the door. The moment I opened it, I was completely intimidated by the man standing there. He was imposingly tall; I had to crane my neck just to look at the buttons on his chest. His gaze was unnerving. He had the aura of… my old high school principal. I instinctively took a step back, putting some distance between us. “Hello, can I help you?” The man’s gaze swept over me, cold and indifferent, before landing on the spot right behind me. His voice was firm, a statement, not a question. “You found a child today.” His tone made me feel guilty, as if I’d stolen the kid instead of rescuing him. But I quickly composed myself. 4 “Who are you?” His eyes returned to me. He wore a khaki trench coat over a neatly pressed white shirt and dress pants. A look that was formal yet with a touch of casualness. But the longer I looked, the more my own confidence seemed to shrink. “That’s none of your concern.” Hey! What did he mean, ‘none of my concern’? I was the one who found the kid. I couldn’t just hand him over to some stranger without knowing who he was. What if something happened? It would be my responsibility. I stepped forward, blocking his path. “If you don’t explain yourself, I’m calling the police.” The man seemed surprised by my assertiveness. He glanced at his wristwatch, a flicker of impatience on his face. “Pip Lowell. If you don’t come out now, you can forget about ever leaving the house by yourself again.” Before I could make sense of his words, a small figure scurried past me, clinging to my leg and looking up at the man. “Uncle!” Un… cle? My astonished gaze shot to the man’s face, but he only gave me a fleeting, dismissive glance. Then he knelt down to the little cat-boy’s level. He ruffled the blanket-covered head without trying to look underneath. His tone was a mixture of sternness, threat, and a strange hint of gloating. “You got caught, didn’t you? When we get back, your mother is going to ground you for a month.” Pip’s face fell instantly. He pouted. “Can’t you not tell Mommy, Uncle?” “And what’s in it for me if I don’t?” Pip, still clutching my hand, darted his eyes around before they landed on me. He tugged excitedly at the man’s coat. “Uncle! I found you a wife!” The boy’s declaration plunged the hallway into a sudden, icy silence. The man on the floor slowly rose to his feet. His perpetually frosty expression finally cracked, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “My wife?” 5 I held the little cat-boy’s hand, grinding my back teeth. If his guardian weren’t standing right here, I’d be giving this kid a serious talking-to. And him! What was he smiling about? Was this funny to him? So what if he was handsome? “Haha, he’s just kidding. I’m not.” The man, whose name I still didn’t know, just nodded, his expression unreadable. “Alistair Streep. I’m Pip’s uncle.” I nodded back. “Nora Hayes. I’m…” The words “your wife” almost slipped out. Thankfully, I caught myself in time. But I had a sneaking suspicion Alistair knew exactly what I was about to say. Well, if he didn’t call me out on it, it meant he didn’t know. Yep. He definitely didn’t know. “I found Pip in an alley near the university. Don’t worry, no one else saw him. You can take him home now.” I gently nudged Pip toward Alistair, then ruffled his little head. Even though we’d only known each other for an hour, I’d grown quite fond of the little guy. But given our circumstances, this was probably the last time we’d ever see each other. Alistair took Pip’s hand but didn’t leave. Instead, he turned his gaze back to me. “If you have a moment, I’d like to discuss what happened with Pip. I hope I’m not imposing.” It clicked. I understood what he wanted to talk about. It had to be about keeping their secret. I stepped aside, holding the door open. “Come in. Don’t worry about your shoes. It’ll only take a minute.” I saw Alistair hesitate for a second. 6 In the end, he decided to take my advice and walked in with his shoes on. I gestured for the two of them to sit on the sofa. My apartment wasn’t very big, and suddenly having two extra people in it felt a bit strange. The sofa was now completely occupied. Fortunately, I didn’t mind. I pulled up a chair and sat opposite them. “Don’t worry. About Pip,” I glanced at Alistair, “and your family’s situation, I’ll keep it a complete secret. I promise I won’t tell a soul.” Hearing this, Alistair pinched Pip’s cheek. “You told her?” Pip gave a sheepish, guilty little smile. “Nora’s a good person! I knew she wouldn’t tell. And Uncle, please don’t tell Mommy.” Alistair ignored Pip’s plea, tapping him on the head. “No negotiation. Do you have any idea how serious this was? Go home and accept your punishment.” Watching them interact, I suddenly felt that Alistair wasn’t as unapproachable as he’d seemed at first. A small smile touched my lips. The next second, my eyes met Alistair’s. I quickly wiped the smile off my face. “I do trust you, Miss Hayes. But as you can imagine, a family like ours has… a great deal to worry about. Forgive me for asking, but did you happen to take any photos of Pip?” I shook my head. As shocking as the whole thing was, I never once considered telling anyone. So, taking pictures had never crossed my mind. Fearing he wouldn’t believe me, I unlocked my phone and opened my photo gallery, placing it in front of him. “You can check for yourself.” Alistair didn’t even glance at it, pushing the phone back to me. 7 “If you say you didn’t take any, then you didn’t. I believe you.” I nodded and put my phone away. So, what now? Alistair didn’t seem inclined to speak, so I hesitated for a moment before asking, “Can I ask you a few questions? They might be a bit… personal.” Alistair nodded. “You can ask. If it’s something I can’t answer, I simply won’t.” I was a bit taken aback. Professor Streep was certainly direct. But direct was good; it made communication easier. I pointed at Pip. “So, people like you… non-humans… I guess that’s the right term? Can you live among regular humans?” Alistair rested his hands on his knees, his posture impeccably elegant. He made my cheap sofa look like a luxury item. “There are more of us in this world than you might think. You just don’t know it. We all hide our true nature when living in human society. We also have our own governing bodies. If there’s an accident, or if someone uses their abilities to harm a human, they are punished. So you have nothing to worry about.” I felt like my brain was overloading with new information. But then again, it’s a wide, weird world. It was plausible. But… if Pip said his whole family was like him, then… My gaze drifted to the top of Alistair’s head. So, was Alistair a kitty-cat too? Did his tail wag when he was happy, just like Pip’s? Just picturing it, with Alistair’s stern face, I knew I had to stop. Any further and I’d turn into a total creep. “Oh, I see.” 8 “Do you age like humans?” “Yes. Our lifespans are similar to humans. We get sick, and we die. Aside from occasionally reverting to our true forms and retaining some of our original traits, there’s no difference.” Hearing him say that, my curiosity spiked. I hadn’t noticed any feline characteristics on him. Was he secretly obsessed with catnip? Did he love having his hair stroked? “So what are your traits?” I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me. The next moment, I felt like I was falling into the world of his eyes. They were stunning, sparkling with light. His true form must be a beautiful cat. Suddenly, a teasing glint appeared in their depths. “If they’re hidden traits, then naturally, I can’t just tell anyone.” I felt a pang of disappointment. “Oh. Okay.” “But I hope one day you’ll be the one to discover them.” I highly doubted that. What were the chances of running into so many non-humans in one lifetime? Still, I nodded. “We’ll see.” After a few more minutes of conversation, Alistair’s phone rang. He got up, ready to take Pip home. As they were leaving, he tried to give me back the blanket from Pip’s head. I stopped him. “Let him keep it on. My neighborhood is pretty busy.” Alistair gave me a long, deep look, then nodded. I watched him carry Pip toward the elevator, about to head back inside. But before I took a step, I heard Pip’s loud voice echo down the hall. “Uncle, you didn’t get your wife’s number! How are you going to talk to her later if you don’t get her number? Go back and get it!” At his words, I turned my head and met Alistair’s slightly embarrassed gaze. Then I watched, stunned, as the man walked back to me and held out his phone. “Shall we? We shouldn’t let the kid’s efforts go to waste.” “…Okay.” 9 It was only after he’d left that I realized how foolish I’d just been. And Alistair’s words… they sounded a bit ambiguous, didn’t they? The kid’s efforts. Looking at the new contact on my phone, I had to admit, it was all thanks to the little cat-boy’s efforts. Next time I saw him, I’d have to thank him properly. Though, I figured the chances of anything happening between me and Alistair were slim to none. We weren’t even the same species! After tidying up, I fell into bed. I thought I’d be too wired to sleep, but I was out like a light. After that day, I heard nothing from Pip or Alistair. Although we had each other’s contact information, it didn’t seem to matter much. I didn’t dare to text him first, and he never texted me. It was like we were both playing a game of chicken, too reserved to make the first move. So much for the handsome mystery man. Life, however, had to go on. My company recently started a collaboration with a professor from the local university. “Heard you’re going to meet Professor Streep?” I was packing my bag, getting ready to head out, when my colleague, Sarah, sidled up to my desk. I’d known her long enough to recognize that tone. She was up to something. I checked the time. It was still early, so I sat back down. “Yeah. What’s up?” “Nothing with me. But you’re about to have something up.” “Is he a nightmare to work with?” “Nope. He’s ridiculously handsome. I bet you’ll see him and fall in love at first sight.” I scoffed. I’d seen my fair share of handsome men over the years. 10 Love at first sight? Not likely. That’s what I thought before I met him. After I met him, I had to admit, sometimes Sarah was spot on. Because the professor we were collaborating with was none other than Alistair Streep. He was a university professor! No wonder. No wonder when I first saw him, he reminded me of my high school principal. It all made sense now. “What a coincidence, Miss Hayes.” I managed a tight smile. “It really is. I never expected the person my company was working with would be you.” Alistair poured me a glass of water and gestured for me to sit. He wasn’t as icy as our first meeting, but he still had an intimidating presence. Clutching the glass, my mind raced, desperately searching for something to talk about. What should I say? “Pip was just talking about you the other day.” “Oh? Really? Well, you can bring him over to play sometime.” Alistair took off the glasses perched on his nose. “That might not be possible for a while.” “Huh?” “My sister has him grounded. He’s not allowed out to play. I trust you understand?” I thought back to our last encounter and nodded vigorously. I got it. I thought the punishment was just an empty threat, but it was real. Their family must be very strict. “By the way, Miss Hayes…” “Please, call me Nora. Miss Hayes sounds so formal.” A flicker of surprise crossed Alistair’s eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. “Alright, Nora. I was wondering if you’re free sometime soon. My sister would like to treat you to dinner, to thank you in person for what you did for Pip.” I hadn’t expected his sister to be so formal about it. I quickly waved my hands. 11 “Oh, no, that’s not necessary. I really didn’t do much.” Alistair didn’t say anything, just looked at me. But from his gaze, I could read a clear message: refusal was not an option. But having dinner with Alistair’s sister? I really wasn’t up for it. My social anxiety was already kicking in. So I pivoted, changing the subject back to work. “Professor Streep, if you really want to thank me, then I hope we can have a perfect collaboration. How does that sound?” Alistair smiled. “Even if you hadn’t said that, I would have cooperated fully. But since you’d rather not, I won’t insist. Perhaps some other time.” I breathed a sigh of relief. But I couldn’t help but think to myself, what, am I suddenly going to be an extrovert in the future? Whatever. I’d dodged it for now. My meeting with Alistair went smoothly. He was brilliant, and it was clear he’d done his homework on our company’s new product. There were virtually no gaps in his knowledge. Occasionally, one of his students would come in to see him. When they saw the two of us, they all had a strange look in their eyes. Having been a student myself, I knew that look. I knew exactly what they were thinking. I tried to step back, to create some distance between me and Alistair. But I hadn’t noticed the chair behind me. I lost my footing and started to fall backward. Alistair saw and lunged to catch me, but my momentum pulled him down with me. The result was an awkward, heart-stoppingly intimate pose. He was hovering over me, his hands braced on the chair next to my head, his gaze locked onto mine. “Professor Streep, I…” A knock came from the door. A student’s voice called out, only to die in his throat the moment he saw us. Awkward. So, so awkward. 12 “Sorry, sorry, Professor! I’ll come back later.” He even pulled the door shut on his way out. Oh, thank you so much for that. Alistair pushed himself up, his expression as calm and unruffled as ever. “Professor Streep, I think we’ve covered enough for today. I should get going. Goodbye.” I grabbed my things and practically fled. If I stayed a second longer, I was going to combust. After that day, the scene replayed itself in my dreams over and over. Because of it, I was almost afraid to contact Alistair. Every message was strictly professional. I avoided going to see him unless it was absolutely necessary. But this collaboration required me to see him. The next time I went to the university, the weather was not on my side. Just as I reached his office building, the sky opened up. It wasn’t just rain; it was a full-blown tempest. Damn it. I hadn’t brought an umbrella. I could only hope the storm would pass by the time I was done. I was running a little late, and the building was mostly empty, save for a few students I didn’t recognize. When I got to Alistair’s office, I knocked, but there was no answer. I tentatively tried the doorknob. It was unlocked. I knew it was probably bad form, but waiting out here could take forever. I slowly pushed the door open just a crack. Peeking inside, I was suddenly yanked into the room. The door slammed shut, and I was pinned against it by a man’s body. The searing heat radiating from him told me something was terribly wrong. “Alistair… Professor Streep?” “It’s me.” Alistair seemed to be in agony, unable to support his own weight. He leaned heavily against me, his forehead resting on my shoulder. His breath, even through the fabric of my clothes, was scorching hot. And then came the final, fatal blow. I felt it. The same sensation as Pip’s tail. Only this time, it wasn’t at my ankle. It was higher, above my knee. A soft, furry tail coiled around my thigh. “Help me… I’m burning up.”

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1 At the awards ceremony for the parasports competition, my ex-girlfriend Seraphina and I stood facing each other in silence. As I accepted the trophy, her eyes fixed on my hand with its six remaining fingers. Her voice was laced with panic. “Rick, what happened to you?” She couldn’t imagine it. The former star student of the top university, now without even a whole body. “Why didn’t you call me when you got out early? Why didn’t you come home?” Her assistant chimed in, indignant. “The day you were released, Ms. Vance waited for you at the prison gates all morning, in her wedding dress! She loves you so deeply, and you just hid away in this backwater town, humiliating her!” Hearing this, I could only laugh. She wouldn’t marry anyone but me? If it weren’t for her, I wouldn’t have been forced into a marriage with that psycho mob boss’s daughter, wouldn’t have had my kidney torn out, my fingers and legs severed. And I certainly wouldn’t have been framed for murder and spent five years rotting in prison for a crime I didn’t commit. … Seraphina finally tore her eyes away from my disfigured face, her voice rising in anger. “No matter how angry you are, you can’t just abandon your family.” “Come on. We’re going home.” She angrily threw my crutch aside and bent down to help me up. Without the support, my body crashed heavily to the ground. The stump of my amputated leg, already swollen and throbbing from weeks of intense training, exploded in agony from the impact. The pain bleached all the color from my face. Seraphina stared at the empty, crumpled fabric of my pant leg, her hands frozen in mid-air. “Your leg… where’s your leg?” Just then, a man walked in, holding the hand of a five or six-year-old boy. Seeing the face that was once mine, it took me a moment to realize it was Finn. Seraphina had made me get plastic surgery to look like Finn. To protect him, she’d naturally had him altered to look like me. He glanced at Seraphina. “Seraphina, you practically turned this whole city upside down looking for him.” The little boy ran to Seraphina. “Mommy, I missed you so much.” Seraphina scooped him up effortlessly. “Mommy missed you too, Ian.” My voice was ice. “She was so busy looking for me, she still had time to have a kid with you?” Seraphina’s expression stiffened. I ignored her, propping myself up on my remaining crutch to stand. She saw me struggling and put the child down to help. “Let me help you.” I swung the crutch, knocking her hand away. “Get lost.” Seraphina’s face darkened. I struggled to my feet. Finn came over, holding the boy. “Ian, hurry up and say hi to your uncle.” “Rick, take off that mask. Let us see you.” Before I could stop him, my grotesque, scarred face was exposed to everyone. “Ah! Mommy, a monster! I’m scared!” The little boy buried his face in Finn’s chest, wailing and begging to go home. My mother’s voice was a harsh command. “Cover up that hideous face, now!” My father threw a wad of cash at my chest. “Take this and get surgery. Don’t you dare scare my grandson again.” “Refusing to come home, and now you’re in this pathetic competition? Are you trying to make us the laughingstock of the town on purpose?” The sharp edge of a new bill sliced across a scar, drawing a thin line of blood. The money scattered at my feet. My trembling, pale knuckles betrayed the rage I was barely containing. I bowed to them, a smile plastered on my face. “Thank you. You’re all such good people. I wish you a long, long life.” My father heard the sarcasm in my voice. Seeing that I hadn’t even called them ‘Mom’ or ‘Dad,’ he gritted his teeth and spat, “Ungrateful bastard.” My mother told me to get my act together, then left with Finn and the crying child. I leaned on my crutch and bent to pick up the money. Seraphina, as if she couldn’t bear to watch, pressed her hand on mine. “What happened back then… I owe you.” “I’ll marry you. I’ll take care of you for the rest of your life.” 2 My hand paused, a storm of hatred brewing in my eyes. “Fine. Just as soon as I’m done with a few things.” Seraphina wanted to come with me to my place to pack, but just then, Finn called her. “Seraphina, Ian won’t stop crying. He wants you.” I smirked. “Go on. I don’t have any legs. It’s not like I can run very far.” Seraphina left her number, telling me to call anytime. The second she was gone, I blocked her and called a ride-share. I got in touch with an old cellmate and crashed at his rental. When I heard no news of Seraphina looking for me, I finally started to relax. I found a spot in a corner of the local market, shining shoes, hemming pants, and fixing zippers. Just as I was about to rent my own place and settle down, Seraphina found me. “Come on, be good. Come home with me.” When I refused, she turned to the market vendors for help. “Could you please help me convince him? I really want to marry him, to take care of him for the rest of his life!” Many of them had seen her pull up in a Rolls-Royce. They all started trying to persuade me. “You’ve got a girlfriend that beautiful and rich, what are you shining shoes for?” “She doesn’t mind your face or that you’re missing fingers and a leg. What are you throwing a tantrum for?” “Stop being difficult! Just go back with her!” I gritted my teeth in fury but tried not to show it. I made an excuse to say goodbye to my friend and, with his help, I slipped away again. This time, it took me five days of travel to reach a small southern town, two thousand kilometers away. Because of my missing fingers and leg, it took me forever to find a job as a butcher’s assistant. But before I could even enjoy a moment of peace, Seraphina found me again. “Rick, you can’t run from me.” The butcher’s voice was dripping with envy. “You’ve got a rich girlfriend who wants to marry and take care of you. Why are you out here suffering? Go home and enjoy the good life!” I shot a mocking look at Seraphina. “The good life?” Days of exhaustion and a deep-seated hatred finally made my control snap. “Seraphina, why are you haunting me? You’ve already turned me into this… this thing, not quite human, not quite a ghost. Can’t you just leave me alone?” Seraphina’s face hardened, her eyes filled with confusion. “Marrying you is what you need most right now. It’s also the promise I made to you. I’m trying to help you!” I laughed bitterly. “Help me? By getting my fingers and legs cut off? By sending me to prison? It was Finn who pissed off that psycho, but you killed our child with your own hands, you plotted to have our faces swapped, and you threw me to her, letting her chop off my fingers and legs and frame me for a crime that sent me to prison for five years. In all that time, did either of you ever have a single nightmare?” Seraphina sighed, her face a mask of pain. “What’s done is done. There’s no point in dwelling on it. I already said, I will marry you.” I shot back, a cold sneer on my lips, “You’ll marry me? What about Finn? What about your son?” A flicker of guilt crossed her eyes. “Ian was an accident. As for Finn, I’ll compensate him in other ways.” Seeing her certainty, my voice dripped with scorn. “And what’s your compensation plan? I get you Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, and he gets Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays?” Her guilty expression told me I’d hit the nail on the head. A wave of nausea washed over me. “Seraphina, in your dreams!” Seraphina’s patience wore thin. Her voice was sharp. “Rick, a marriage certificate is the most dignity I can offer you.” I refused coldly. “I don’t need that dignity. Give it to him. All I want is for you to stay the hell away from me.” I turned to leave on my crutch. Seraphina’s voice was a chilling warning from behind me. “Rick, if you keep fighting me on this, those old prison buddies of yours might find their quiet lives aren’t so quiet anymore.” I froze. Gritting my teeth, I turned to face her. “Seraphina, you are utterly disgusting.” 3 The journey to the small town took me five days by bus. The flight back to the city took only five hours. I arrived home just in time for the welcome party my family was throwing for me. Finn, dressed in a tailored suit, looked like a groom, or rather, the man of the house. My father snorted. “Ungrateful bastard. You finally decided to come back.” My mother sighed. “Thank god Ian isn’t related to you by blood. This would have affected his future prospects.” Then, “Go step over the fire pit. Don’t bring your bad luck and filth into this house.” Neighbors saw me, masked and on a crutch, and started whispering. “Why did they even bring him back? Isn’t he embarrassing enough?” “I heard that while he was with Seraphina, he cheated on her with some psycho gangster woman. He got plastic surgery for her and even forced Seraphina to have an abortion.” “If you ask me, getting his fingers and legs chopped off, his face slashed, his kidney taken, and going to prison… he deserved all of it.” Finn interrupted them. “Rick made a terrible mistake, but he’s already served five years. Not every dog refuses to change its ways. We believe Rick will never make the same mistakes again.” I looked at this kangaroo court, custom-designed just for me, and felt nothing but a cold, sickening disgust. Just then, Finn brought over the fire pit. He added fresh charcoal. “The stronger the fire, the stronger your future.” The new coals sparked and hissed, the heat palpable even from meters away. He looked at me with a provocative, wicked smile. “Cross it, and you can start a new life.” Before I could move, he grabbed me and dragged me toward the flames. I don’t know who did it, but a firm shove to my lower back sent me stumbling, my body pitching forward directly into the fire pit. I reacted instantly, pushing the basin away, but the overturned, glowing coals still scattered onto my clothes, the synthetic fabric catching fire immediately. “Ah!” I screamed for help, but no one dared to come near me. Finally, as Seraphina started ripping the burning fabric from my skin, Finn doused me with a bucket of cold water. My mask fell off. My hair was a mess, my clothes were torn, and the network of scars on my back was exposed for all to see. The grotesque scars on my face made everyone gasp. My father pointed at my half-naked form and yelled, “How long are you going to keep embarrassing us? Get back to your room!” Finn saw Seraphina about to fetch some clothes and shot me a cold smile. He quickly pulled a dirty blanket from under the dog in its kennel and threw it over me. “Cover yourself with this for now.” I tried to struggle, but Finn held me down firmly. I stopped fighting and just smiled. A custom-made humiliation party. This is what they wanted, wasn’t it? To see me debased. Only when I was sufficiently shamed would they leave me alone. I looked at Seraphina and asked with a smile, “Are you satisfied now?” Seraphina glanced at Finn, her eyes flickering. “A dog blanket is better than being stared at by everyone.” A triumphant look crossed Finn’s eyes as he pretended to help me up. I shook him off. “Don’t touch me with your filthy hands.” Ignoring my parents’ curses and the strange looks from the neighbors, I made my way inside on my crutch. Finn’s voice followed me. “Mom and Dad said any good room would be tainted by your bad luck. You’ll be staying… in the attic.” I struggled up the stairs. As I closed the door, my eyes burned with tears I refused to shed. I threw off the dog blanket. The mirror reflected a body covered in a web of scars and blistering, red burns. Wounds from that psycho woman, wounds from prison, every single one carved deep into my flesh. I hadn’t forgotten a single one. I was just waiting for my chance to pay them all back. That night, Seraphina knocked on my door. I didn’t open it. In the dead of night, I heard noises from the balcony below. “You bastard. You said tonight was our wedding night?” “Mmm. Did you like my groom’s suit today?” “I did. The first time I saw you, I wanted you to do this to me.” The sounds that followed were the unmistakable, intimate moans of a man and a woman… Only then did I understand. The festive red decorations all over the house weren’t to welcome me home. They were for their wedding. 4 The next morning, I came down for breakfast without my mask. Ian burst into tears at the sight of me. “You’re a monster! Get out of my house! Grandma, I’m scared.” My mother soothed the child, then roughly snatched the bowl and chopsticks from my hands. “From now on, you eat in your room. Don’t come out here and scare my grandson!” My father roared, “Get back to the attic!” The child shrieked at me, calling me a monster. My parents venomously told me to get lost. No one cared about the fresh burns on my body. No one asked about my five years of wrongful imprisonment. Even the child my cheating ex-girlfriend had with another man was treated like a treasure, while I, their own son, was told to die. The rage that had been simmering for over five years erupted. “Why?!” I roared. “What makes him your grandson? Whose blood runs in his veins?!” My voice shook with fury. “Why the hell would I get plastic surgery to look like another man and get rid of my own child to be with some psycho? Why would you believe two outsiders over your own son? Did it ever occur to you that I was framed?” My parents were stunned into silence. Even Ian stopped crying, startled by my outburst. My eyes burned, and I looked at them with utter despair. “Did you ever once think that maybe I was drugged, that I was tricked into surgery, that I was set up…” Just then, I heard two sets of footsteps hurrying down the stairs. Finn knelt to comfort the child, deliberately showing me the dense pattern of love bites on his neck and collarbone. “Ian, did you upset your uncle again?” Seraphina came to my side, her hand on my shoulder a silent, heavy warning. “What were you all talking about? Rick, your eyes are all red.” My father shot me a hateful glare. “Five years in prison didn’t teach him a thing. He’s still blaming everyone but himself! How did I raise such a spineless coward who can’t even own up to his mistakes?” My mother cradled Ian, patting his back. “If you ever try to drive a wedge between us and Seraphina’s family again, I’ll rip your mouth off!” Seraphina and Finn exchanged a look, both visibly relieved. Finn pretended to scold his son. “Ian, he’s your uncle. This is his home too.” The child wailed, “This is our home, not the monster’s home! Go away, monster! Get out of my house!” I watched this picture of a happy family and felt like the biggest joke in the world. Before coming back, I’d held onto a sliver of hope that my parents still had some love for me. Now I knew. There was no place for me in this home anymore. I skipped breakfast and went back to my room. Perhaps out of guilt, my mother knocked on my door later, saying we were all going shopping to buy me some new clothes. Finn helpfully pushed a wheelchair over. “This will be easier for you.” I saw the malicious glint in his eye and had a bad feeling. But the mall was crowded, so I let my guard down. My mother bought me a lot of clothes. But they were all styles that Finn had tried on first. All things he liked. I paid his provocations no mind. At the elevator, Finn pushed my wheelchair inside. Just as my mother was about to step in, Finn suddenly feigned remembrance. “Mom, I think I forgot something. Can you come with me to get it?” He repeatedly jabbed the ‘close door’ button, hissing with a vicious smile, “Go to hell!” By the time I realized it was a trap, it was too late. The elevator buttons went dead, and the car plummeted into the shaft below. Before I could even recover from the shock, a bag was thrown over my head and a rag was shoved into my mouth. “You piece of trash. We finally got you!” I was dragged into a van. Fists, feet, and curses rained down on me. Just like in prison, I curled into a ball, instinctively protecting my head. I didn’t cry or scream. Crying only made them hit harder. Half an hour later, I was kicked out of the van and dragged into a dilapidated factory. A group of burly men surrounded me, closing in. “You’re not getting out of here alive! Just in time for us to get some practice in!” Their fists hammered into me. I fought back desperately, but I was no match for their brute force. Giving up, I slammed my head against a nearby wall. Blood trickled into my eyes, blurring my vision. Just before darkness consumed me, a slender arm caught my collapsing body.

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The rich kid my cousin was dating, Trevor, suddenly showed up at my store with a high-end replica handbag, trying to get a refund for the authentic one he’d bought three days earlier. When the front desk called me, I was surprised, but I didn’t reveal who I was. I just told them to handle it by the book. I figured it was just another one of the countless little dramas that played out daily across my chain of luxury resale stores and promptly forgot about it. Until Christmas Eve, at the family dinner table, when my cousin Liz, with Trevor’s arm wrapped around her, slapped an identical replica bag down on the table. The sound wasn’t loud, but it was like a crack of thunder, instantly silencing the festive chaos of the room. “Look what Trevor got me for Christmas! It’s a limited-edition Chanel. There are only a handful of them in the world.” In an instant, the table erupted in a chorus of flattery and awe. My own mother nudged me discreetly. “You’re so clueless all the time. A girl’s best bet is still to marry a rich man.” I just smiled. A bag of that quality? A “clueless” girl like me would normally just toss it in the trash. Only they would treat it like a treasure. 1 Liz’s voice was dripping with a poorly suppressed smugness. Her eyes scanned every relative at the table before finally landing on me, a faint glint of challenge in them. My mom immediately leaned in, picking up the bag and examining it from every angle. “Wow, this leather, this shine! You can just tell it’s expensive,” she marveled. “Liz, you are so lucky! Trevor treats you so well!” My aunt, Liz’s mother, was beaming. She clapped Trevor on the shoulder. “Of course, he does. Our Liz deserves the best! Trevor, you’re a good man. Capable and doting.” Trevor feigned modesty, waving a hand dismissively while pulling Liz closer by the waist, his chin held high. “She deserves it. As long as Liz is happy. It wasn’t that much, only about thirty-two thousand. The real trouble was getting a friend to source it from overseas.” Thirty-two thousand dollars. The number hung in the air, followed by a collective intake of breath around the table. My other aunt dropped her fork. “Thirty-two thousand? My god, that’s a down payment on a house back home! Trevor, you’re really going places!” “Liz, you better hold on to him! A catch like that is one in a million!” “Exactly! Not like my layabout son who just plays video games all day. It drives me crazy!” The praise swelled, wave after wave, and the triumphant looks on Trevor and Liz’s faces were practically spilling over. My mom, basking in the reflected glory of her niece’s boyfriend, turned her educational lecture back to me. “Did you hear that, Anna? Your cousin is a year younger than you, and she’s already found such a wonderful future. And you? All you do is slave away at that little junk shop of yours. How much can that possibly make? No matter how successful a woman’s career is, it’s nothing compared to marrying well.” My so-called “little junk shop” is the leading nationwide trading platform for pre-owned luxury goods. We just closed our Series C funding last year with a valuation in the billions. Of course, I’d never told my family any of this. In their eyes, I ran a small second-hand store in another city, barely scraping by. I couldn’t be bothered to explain, so I just gave a noncommittal “Mm.” My lukewarm response clearly annoyed my mother; she felt I had embarrassed her in front of everyone. “What do you mean, ‘Mm’? I’m talking to you! You’re not getting any younger, and you don’t care at all about your personal life. Look at your cousin, then look at you! And what are you wearing? It’s so old and drab. Can’t you even afford to buy yourself a new outfit?” The seemingly plain cashmere sweater I was wearing was from Loro Piana. It cost six figures. But in their world, no big logo meant it was from a discount bin. Seeing my mom scolding me, Liz offered a phony attempt at peacemaking, though the glee in her eyes was impossible to hide. “Oh, Auntie, don’t be so hard on Anna. It’s not easy for her, trying to make it on her own. She’s probably saving up for a down payment on a house.” As she spoke, she deliberately flashed the massive diamond ring on her finger. “Anna, if you’re short on cash, just let me know. I can have Trevor set you up with some easy job, you know, ten or fifteen thousand a month. It’s got to be better than what you’re doing now.” Trevor immediately jumped in, his tone dripping with condescension. “Yeah, Anna, we’re family. Don’t be a stranger. My dad’s company needs an administrative assistant. If you’re interested, you can start after the holidays.” I almost laughed out loud. What kind of charity case did they take me for? Before I could speak, my aunt jumped in to express my “eternal gratitude” for me. “Oh, thank you so much, Trevor! Anna, did you hear that? What are you waiting for? Thank your cousin’s fiancé! This is a golden opportunity, a gift from heaven! You are so lucky!” Everyone at the table stared at me, waiting for me to burst into tears of gratitude and accept this magnificent “blessing.” I looked at the sickeningly smug faces of Liz and Trevor and slowly put down my fork. “Liz, that bag of yours is certainly… ‘limited,’” I said, putting a slight emphasis on the word. Liz, thinking I was complimenting her, grinned even wider. “Of course, it’s…” I cut her off, my gaze shifting to Trevor. I asked with a smile that didn’t quite reach my eyes, “Mr. Kirby, where did you buy this bag? Would you mind sharing your source? I’d love to get one for my mom, make her happy too.” Trevor’s eyes flickered for a fraction of a second. “Oh, just a friend of mine in Europe who sources things for me,” he said vaguely. “If you want one, I can ask him to keep an eye out for you.” “Is that so?” I drew out the words, picking up the fake bag from the table. My fingertip traced the logo lightly. “Because for some reason, this bag looks a little familiar, don’t you think?” 2 My words hung in the air, instantly freezing the atmosphere at the table. The smile on Liz’s face was frozen solid. “Anna, what are you trying to say? You’re not suggesting my bag is a fake, are you?” Her voice shot up, her expression one of utter insult. “I know what this is. You’re just jealous I found a great boyfriend! My mom was right, you can’t stand to see me happy! You’re just taking out your own failures on me!” My aunt immediately jumped to her defense, jabbing a finger in my direction. “Anna, what is wrong with you? Are you trying to cause trouble? Your cousin’s fiancé was kind enough to offer you a job, and this is how you repay him, by trying to ruin their happiness? What are your intentions?” My own mother’s face went pale with anger. She pinched my arm, hard. “Are you crazy? What nonsense are you spouting? Apologize to your cousin and her fiancé right now!” Trevor’s expression had turned thunderous. He stared at me coldly. “Anna, you can eat whatever you want, but you can’t say whatever you want. I may not be a billionaire, but I can certainly afford a thirty-thousand-dollar bag. Are you questioning my integrity?” He sounded so righteous, as if he were the victim of a terrible injustice. The relatives all turned on me. “Yeah, Anna’s being so immature!” “Just because she’s never seen anything nice, she assumes everyone else’s things are fake. What a petty mindset.” “Just apologize. It’s Christmas, don’t ruin it for everyone.” I looked at this room full of so-called family. Without a second thought, simply because Trevor looked rich, they had all decided I was the malicious one, the troublemaker. A chill went through me, but my face remained calm. “Whether I’m talking nonsense or not, I think Mr. Kirby knows best.” I met Trevor’s gaze and spoke, enunciating each word. “Three days ago, on December twenty-second, at 3:15 in the afternoon, a man wearing a black down jacket, khaki pants, and gold-rimmed glasses brought this exact bag into the flagship store of ‘The Vault’ downtown.” With every detail I revealed, another shade of color drained from Trevor’s face. “He claimed he’d bought the bag in the store three days prior for thirty-two thousand dollars and demanded a full refund because his girlfriend had changed her mind.” “Our in-house authenticator immediately identified it as a top-tier replica, what’s commonly known as a ‘superfake,’ and refused his request for a return.” “Mr. Kirby,” I said with a small, cold smile, “none of this sounds unfamiliar to you, does it?” The dining room fell into a dead silence. Every eye in the room darted between me and Trevor, their expressions shifting from accusation to stunned disbelief. Beads of sweat had formed on Trevor’s forehead. He tried to sound indignant, his voice cracking. “That’s a lie! I’ve never even heard of ‘The Vault’! I was in a meeting at my office that afternoon. My entire company can vouch for me!” “Is that so?” I calmly took out my phone and opened a security feed app. “Unfortunately for you, my store has high-definition cameras in every corner. With audio.” I turned the screen towards him. The image was crystal clear, showing Trevor’s face, etched with greed and anxiety. In the video, he was arguing animatedly with my sales associate. “…I don’t care! I bought it here! Here’s the receipt! You have to give me my money back today, or I’m calling the cops and reporting you for ripping me off!” “Sir, we have no record of your purchase in our system. And this receipt… it’s also a forgery.” “Bullshit! You’re just trying to get out of it! Get me your owner!” The voices from the video echoed clearly in the silent room, each word like a sharp slap across Trevor and Liz’s faces. All the blood had drained from Liz’s face. She stared at Trevor in disbelief, her lips trembling, unable to form a single word. My aunt was dumbstruck, her mouth hanging open. My mom was just as stunned, staring blankly from the phone in my hand to my face, her eyes filled with a look of utter confusion, as if seeing a stranger. 3 “Now, do you need me to play the rest of the video?” I asked softly, turning off the screen. Trevor’s composure completely shattered. He slumped into his chair with a thud, his face ashen. The con exposed, he couldn’t muster a single word of defense. Liz, after a moment of stunned silence, let out a piercing scream. “Trevor! You liar!” She snatched the fake bag from the table and brought it crashing down on his head. “You told me you were the son of some corporate giant! You said you loved me! And you used a fake bag to fool me? What do you take me for?” Trevor grunted from the blow, his own shame turning to fury. “I fooled you? Liz, you think you’re some kind of saint? You only liked me for my money! If I didn’t have any, would you have even given me the time of day? Stop pretending to be so innocent!” “You…” Liz was shaking with rage. She lunged at him, and the two of them began to brawl. The dinner table descended into chaos. Plates and glasses shattered on the floor. Relatives scrambled to pull them apart. Shouts, curses, and sobs filled the air. A perfect Christmas Eve dinner had become a complete and utter farce. My aunt watched her daughter and her “golden goose” tear each other apart, looking like she was about to have a heart attack. She pointed a trembling finger at me. “Anna! This is all your fault! You and your big mouth! If you hadn’t said anything, none of this would have happened! You’ve ruined your cousin’s life! Are you happy now?” I almost laughed at her twisted logic. “Auntie, are you saying I should have just watched my cousin get scammed by a con artist and applauded from the sidelines?” “What does it matter if he’s a con artist? He was good to Liz!” she shrieked, beyond reason. “So the bag was fake, his feelings for Liz were real! And now you’ve ruined everything!” My mom, having recovered from her shock, didn’t blame me outright, but her eyes were full of reproach. She tugged at my sleeve and whispered, “Anna, your aunt… she has a point. Look at this mess. How is your cousin supposed to face anyone after this?” I looked at my mother, and a profound sense of weariness washed over me. In their world, truth and dignity were worth far less than a man who seemed rich. Even if that man was a liar and a cheat. “Mom, Auntie, you’re missing the point,” I said, my voice as cold as ice. “I didn’t ruin her life. She chose this liar herself. And I’m afraid she’s not the only one who’s been deceived.” I paused, my gaze sweeping over Trevor and Liz, who had stopped fighting but were still glaring daggers at each other. “Mr. Kirby, this trick of swapping a fake bag for a real one… this wasn’t your first time, was it? I checked our industry’s internal alert system. In the last six months, in this city alone, at least five other luxury goods stores have been hit with the exact same scam, with total losses in the millions. And the suspect caught on every security camera looks an awful lot like you.” Trevor’s face went white, his eyes filled with terror. “Who… who are you?” he stammered. I didn’t answer him. I just turned to my mother and said calmly, “Mom, call the police. This man is a professional con artist.” 4 The police arrived quickly. As Trevor was being handcuffed, he looked like a marionette with its strings cut, all his earlier arrogance gone. Liz was collapsed on the floor, sobbing hysterically as if her world had ended. My aunt held her, weeping and cursing me, calling me cruel-hearted and jealous of their family’s good fortune. The Christmas dinner ended with a call to the police. All the relatives, feeling the evening was cursed, quickly made their excuses and left. Soon, it was just my parents and me, along with my distraught aunt and cousin. My mom sighed as she cleaned up the wreckage. My dad just sat in the corner, smoking silently. After a long while, my mom came over to me, her expression a mix of emotions. “Anna, that place, ‘The Vault’… is it really yours?” I nodded. “The one on your phone… it’s really a national chain?” “Yes.” “Then… then how much money do you actually have?” she asked, getting to the heart of the matter. I was quiet for a moment. “Enough for you and Dad to live comfortably for the rest of your lives, without ever having to answer to anyone.” My mother’s eyes lit up for a second, then dimmed again. She glanced at Liz, who was still weeping on the sofa, and seemed hesitant to speak. I had a good idea of what she wanted to say. Sure enough, once my aunt had cried herself out, she dragged Liz over to me and dropped to her knees with a thud. “Anna! I’m begging you! Please, save your cousin!” I was startled and quickly tried to pull her up. “Auntie, what are you doing? Get up!” “I won’t get up until you agree!” she wailed, clinging to my leg. “Trevor is a con artist, we get it! We were fools! But your cousin’s reputation is ruined! How will she ever get married now? You’re the successful one, you have connections! You have to help her!” Liz looked up, her eyes swollen and red, a pitiful expression on her face. “Anna… I know I was wrong. I shouldn’t have looked down on you, I shouldn’t have shown off… Please, forgive me this one time? We’re family. You can’t just leave me to suffer…” They played their parts perfectly, a good cop/bad cop routine. My mom chimed in from the side. “She’s right, Anna. You’re family, blood is thicker than water. Your cousin is a victim in all this, she just suffered from being naive. You’re successful now, it’s only right that you give her a hand.” I looked at the three of them, and the irony was almost too much to bear. When they were mocking me, forcing me to apologize to a con man, not a single one of them stood up for me. Now that my value had been proven, they changed their tune completely, demanding that I “give them a hand” as if it were my duty. “How am I supposed to help?” I asked coldly. “Introduce her to a real rich heir so she can continue her dream of marrying into wealth?” “Anna, how can you say that about your cousin!” my aunt bristled. “She just wants a better life! What’s wrong with that?” “There’s nothing wrong with wanting a better life. But wanting to get it without working for it, using a man as a stepping stone to change your fate, that is fundamentally wrong,” I said, looking directly at Liz. “Cousin, you chose this path. Instead of sitting here crying and begging me, you should be thinking about how you’re going to live your life from now on.” “You…” Liz was stunned by my bluntness, her face flushing with anger. “So what if you have a little money? What’s so great about that? If you won’t help me, I can make it on my own!” With that, she pushed my aunt aside and ran out of the house in tears. My aunt, after a moment of shock, ran after her, shouting insults at me over her shoulder, calling me an ungrateful wolf. The living room was quiet again, just the three of us. My mom looked at me and sighed deeply. “Anna, was that really necessary? How are we ever going to face your aunt and cousin again?” “Mom,” I said, leaning back on the sofa, exhausted. “For years, you’ve valued keeping the peace with relatives, always letting them have their way. And what did it get us? Did they ever respect our family? Deep down, they’ve always looked down on us.” “I didn’t have the power to do anything about it before, so I endured it. But I’m not going to endure it anymore.” My dad, who had been silent this whole time, stubbed out his cigarette and stood up. He walked over to me and put a hand on my shoulder, his voice a little hoarse. “My daughter did the right thing. We don’t owe them anything.” In that moment, a lump formed in my throat, and I had to fight back tears. For the first time in all these years, my father was standing firmly on my side.

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