Author: Momo Chan

When I was five years old, I was adopted from the foster system by the wealthy Montgomery family. My sole purpose was to be a companion for their only daughter, Chloe. The very first time Chloe saw me, she grabbed her best friend, Liam, by the hand, ran over, and split her candy in half with me. From that day on, the three of us became an inseparable trio. The “Iron Triangle.” Until the summer after high school graduation, when I finally accepted Liam’s confession of love. After that, Chloe quietly applied to a college three thousand miles away. The night before she was supposed to leave, she went to a bar to drink away her sorrow. She was dragged into a dark alley and brutally assaulted until she died. Liam and I lived the rest of our lives carrying an unbearable, suffocating guilt. When I turned forty, I was diagnosed with ALS (Lou Gehrig’s disease). The night before I died, Liam held my rapidly deteriorating body, sobbing so hard he shook. “Anna, I love you. I have always loved you.” “But if there is a next life, I have to protect Chloe. I absolutely cannot let anything happen to her ever again.” When I opened my eyes again, I was back in the exact day Liam was planning to ask me out. Inside the karaoke room, our classmates were screaming into the microphones, beer bottles clinking loudly against the glass tables. Liam and Chloe were missing. The horrific image of Chloe’s mutilated body in that dark alley flashed violently through my mind. My hands trembled as I pulled out my phone and texted her. “Chloe, I’m not feeling well, so I headed home early. Please come home soon.” I grabbed my purse, muttered an excuse to the person sitting next to me, and practically ran out the door. Standing in the elevator, I leaned against the metal wall, tears streaming uncontrollably down my face. In this life, I absolutely will not let history repeat itself! When I got back to the Montgomery estate, it was dead silent. Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery were already asleep. I tiptoed upstairs. As I passed Chloe’s room, I saw the door was slightly ajar. Sitting on her desk was a framed photo of the three of us from elementary school. Tears fell before I could stop them. In my previous life, I had been so wrapped up in the joy of accepting Liam’s confession. I completely failed to notice Chloe’s forced smiles and her shattered heart. Later, when it was time to submit our college applications, Chloe secretly chose a university in freezing, remote Alaska. The night before she left, she went to that bar. When we finally found her, she was lying in that damp, foul-smelling alley. She looked like a ragdoll that had been torn to pieces. There wasn’t a single patch of untouched skin on her body. The bruises, the lacerations, and the lingering terror and absolute despair in her dilated, lifeless eyes… it became a nightmare that Liam and I could never, ever escape. We stayed together, bound by our massive, shared guilt, trying to keep each other warm while simultaneously torturing each other. Until I was diagnosed with ALS, my body slowly freezing into a living corpse. The night before I passed away, he held me, his scalding tears dropping onto my neck. He said: “Anna, if there is a next life… I have to guard Chloe properly. I can never let anything happen to her again.” … My breath hitched violently, a sharp pain seizing my chest. The tragedy of our past life will absolutely not happen again. I went back to my room and didn’t sleep a wink all night. The next day, the angry, questioning phone call I expected from Liam never came. My iMessage and texts were completely silent. According to the timeline of my past life, after I ghosted his meticulously planned confession, given his personality, he should have stormed over to demand an explanation immediately. I opened my phone and saw a few scattered messages in our class group chat. “Liam has been hanging out with Chloe all day today!” “Yeah! They’re inseparable. Didn’t he act super mysterious yesterday, saying he was going to do something huge?” “And Liam is acting incredibly protective of her today.” “Do you think there’s something going on between them?” My confusion deepened. I put my phone down and went downstairs to get a glass of water. I saw Liam and Chloe sitting in the living room. Chloe was laughing, talking to him while peeling an orange and popping a slice directly into his mouth. Liam didn’t pull away. His gaze was entirely focused on her. When Chloe shifted slightly to the left, his eyes tracked her immediately. Seeing Chloe so vibrant and alive, a wave of intense emotion washed over me. I walked over, clutching my water glass. “Chloe.” She looked up, her smile radiant. “Anna! Come here! The oranges Liam bought are so sweet!” I was just about to sit down when someone suddenly grabbed my arm. Liam yanked me around the corner into the hallway, pinning me aggressively against the wall. He gripped my shoulders so hard it hurt. He stared at me, his eyes bloodshot, his voice dropped to a lethal whisper: “Anna. Stay away from Chloe.” I froze. He continued, “Stay away from me, too. It’s better for all three of us this way.” His eyes were a storm of regret, self-blame, and a complex, indescribable agony. I stared at him, stunned. In a fraction of a second, all the missing pieces connected, exploding in my mind! Liam. He had been reborn too. After that day, I became the sole target of Liam’s “special attention.” As long as I came within ten feet of Chloe, he would materialize instantly, physically wedging himself between us. If I went to the kitchen for water and passed through the living room where she was, his entire body would tense up. If I took three steps toward her, he would immediately stand up. One time, Chloe was standing on a dining chair, trying to reach a photo album on the top shelf of a cabinet. I reached out to help her. Before my hand could even touch hers, Liam lunged forward and roughly swatted my arm away. “I’ve got it.” He shoved my arm so hard I stumbled back two steps. Chloe glared at him. “What is your problem?! Why are you being so mean to Anna?!” He didn’t explain. He just pulled the album down and handed it to her. Chloe turned to me, offering a sweet, apologetic smile. “Just ignore him. He’s been acting like he ate a bowl of gunpowder lately.” With that, she pulled a piece of chocolate from her pocket and shoved it into my hand. “Liam bought it! We can split it! What’s mine is yours~” The chocolate still carried the warmth of her palm. I clutched it tight, my nose stinging with unshed tears. When we were little kids, this was exactly how she had shared her candy with me. But I knew I couldn’t get close to them anymore. I stopped participating in any activities that involved the two of them. Chloe invited me out ten times, and I rejected her ten times. My excuses ranged from being lazy, to having a headache, to needing to study at the library. She finally realized something was wrong. That weekend, she forcibly “arrested” me and dragged me to a dessert shop. Liam followed closely behind, his face dark as a thundercloud. Chloe aggressively scooped her mango shaved ice, her eyes full of worry. “Anna, seriously, what is going on with you?” “The three of us haven’t hung out together in forever. Did you… get into a fight with Liam?” I stirred the boba in my milk tea, unable to look her in the eye. “No. I’m just… the SAT scores are coming out soon, and I’m really anxious.” I tried to change the subject, acting as casual as possible. “Have you thought about which colleges you’re applying to?” “Honestly, the local State University is great. It’s close to home, and their programs are strong. If you go too far away, your parents will worry.” The moment those words left my mouth, Liam, who had been completely silent across the table, snapped his head up. His voice was ice cold. “Staying close to home isn’t always a good thing. Sometimes, the further away certain people are, the better it is for everyone.” The implication was glaringly obvious. He wasn’t even trying to hide it. Chloe froze, then lightly shoved his shoulder. “Liam! Watch your tone! Why are you acting like such a jerk?!” She turned back to me, offering a comforting smile. “Anna, seriously, ignore him. He forgot to take his meds today.” Watching Chloe aggressively defend me, my heart felt simultaneously warm and agonizingly broken. Late that night, I curled up in bed, and a flood of beautiful memories crashed over me. At six years old, some neighborhood kids mocked me for being an orphan. Liam and Chloe teamed up and beat them until they cried. At twelve, when I had a high fever, they skipped class, climbed the school fence, and bought me hot soup. At fifteen, sitting on the roof, we screamed at the stars, promising to be “best friends for life.” … All that kindness… it was real. But now, the cautious, disgusted look in Liam’s eyes when he looked at me… that was real, too. The day before the college application portal opened, Chloe and I sat on the swings in the neighborhood park, swaying gently. The setting sun stretched our shadows long across the grass. I hesitated for a long time before finally speaking up. “Chloe, no matter what happens in the future… please, never go to a bar or a club by yourself. It’s not safe.” “If you’re ever feeling upset or depressed, you can call me anytime, okay?” Chloe blinked, then burst out laughing. “Okay, okay, Mom! I don’t even like those loud, annoying places anyway!” I was just about to breathe a sigh of relief when a voice, vibrating with suppressed rage, echoed from behind us. “Anna. Evans.” I didn’t know when Liam had arrived, but he was standing a few yards away, his face looking absolutely murderous. He took long, aggressive strides toward us, grabbed Chloe by the arm, and yanked her off the swing. “We’re leaving.” “Liam, what is your problem?! I’m talking to Anna!” “There’s nothing left to talk about.” Liam dragged her away, shooting a warning glare over his shoulder at me that was thick with venom. “Anna. Stop trying to brainwash Chloe with your cryptic bullshit.” As Chloe was being dragged away, she kept looking back, shooting me confused and apologetic looks. I stood rooted to the spot, watching their silhouettes shrink in the distance, unmoving, until my entire body felt freezing cold. When it was finally time to submit our college applications, I sat right in front of Chloe and Liam and selected the exact same local State University as them. Chloe cheered in excitement. Liam stared at me, his eyes dark and unreadable, but he didn’t say anything else. What they didn’t know was that later that same night, I opened my laptop. I submitted applications to several prestigious universities overseas, and then I spent hours researching the early-onset symptoms of ALS. That weekend, Mrs. Montgomery cooked a massive, elaborate dinner and specifically invited Liam to stay. At the dining table, Mrs. Montgomery kept putting the best cuts of meat onto Liam’s plate, smiling so hard she couldn’t close her mouth. “Liam, eat up. We really appreciate you spending so much time with Chloe lately. This girl has been smiling like a fool all week.” She then shot me a loving look. “In this house, both Chloe and Anna are my precious girls.” Chloe giggled. “Mom, you’re being so cheesy!” Mr. Montgomery chuckled warmly. “Liam is a solid, reliable kid. Knowing he’s looking out for you gives us incredible peace of mind.” The atmosphere at the table was incredibly warm and domestic. Chloe chattered non-stop about her college plans, while Liam offered occasional, quiet agreements. I ate my food silently. It tasted like ash in my mouth. Mrs. Montgomery looked at Liam and Chloe sitting side-by-side, suddenly letting out a soft sigh. “You know, I never really thought about it before, but looking at you two now… Liam and our Chloe really are a perfect match. You look so good together.” The moment the words landed, the entire dining room fell dead silent. Chloe’s face instantly flushed a dark, brilliant red. She stole a shy glance at Liam. Liam didn’t look up from his plate, but he didn’t deny it, either. Mrs. Montgomery then scooped a bowl of soup for me. “And Anna too. I know you’ll find a wonderful man who will love and cherish you.” I took the bowl. My fingertips were ice cold, but I forced a perfectly shy smile onto my face. “Thank you, Mom.” After dinner, I cleared the table and went into the kitchen to wash the dishes. Just as I turned on the faucet, I heard footsteps behind me. Liam stood in the doorway, dropping his voice to a harsh whisper. “Anna. Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery just want what’s best for Chloe. They saved you from the foster system. You owe them a massive debt of gratitude.” My heart began to sink, inch by inch. “I logged into the portal and changed your college application. You’re going to the University of Alaska. It’s far away from here. It’s better for you.” The water rushed loudly into the sink. I gripped the ceramic bowl in my hands tightly. He was right. Being far away from here was better for me. But hearing those words come out of his mouth still felt like a jagged knife twisting in my chest. I turned off the water and turned around to face him. “Okay.” He froze for a second. He probably hadn’t expected me to agree so easily. I dried my hands and walked past him. “Liam, protect Chloe. I won’t come near either of you ever again.” He opened his mouth, but no words came out. That night, an email notification lit up my screen. It was an acceptance letter from a top-tier university overseas. Attached was also an invitation to participate in a cutting-edge clinical research program focusing on early intervention for neurodegenerative diseases. I stared at the screen for a very long time before finally knocking on Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery’s bedroom door. I showed them the acceptance letter on my phone. Mrs. Montgomery gasped. “Anna, you want to study abroad?” I nodded. “I want to see the world.” Mr. Montgomery was silent for a moment before asking, “Do Liam and Chloe know?” I shook my head. “Could you… please not tell them just yet?” “I’m afraid they’ll try to stop me. You know how Chloe is; she’ll definitely try to make me stay.” Mrs. Montgomery sighed heavily and gently stroked my hair. “Silly girl. If you want to fly, then fly. We’ll help you keep it a secret from Chloe.” My eyes burned with tears. I dropped to my knees and bowed my head deeply to them. “Thank you, Dad. Thank you, Mom.” Mr. Montgomery pulled me up, his own eyes red. “We’re family. You never have to thank us.” The next day, I booked my flight. The departure date was three days after Chloe’s birthday. Two days before her birthday, I went up to the roof to bring in the laundry. Down in the garden below, Liam and Chloe were sitting together on a bench. Chloe seemed a bit sleepy, her head nodding slightly. And then, her head gently came to rest on Liam’s shoulder. Liam’s body went completely rigid for a fraction of a second. But he didn’t push her away. He slowly lifted his hand and gently stroked her hair. I turned around, my eyes stinging painfully. As soon as I walked back inside, my phone buzzed. It was a text from Chloe: “Anna! Liam is taking me to the amusement park tomorrow! Do you think he’s going to…” Before I could finish typing a reply, she sent a rapid-fire string of blushing emojis. I typed: “He definitely likes you.” She replied instantly: “Really?!?!?!” “Really.” That night, Chloe came into my room and refused to leave my bed. “Anna, honestly, I used to think he liked you. I secretly cried about it so many times.” I turned my head to look at her. She continued, “But I really hate how mean he’s being to you lately. I’ve yelled at him about it so many times, but he never listens.” I smiled softly. “It’s okay. How he treats me doesn’t matter. As long as he treats you well, that’s enough.” “Of course it matters! You’re my best friend! What gives him the right to be mean to you?!” I didn’t say anything. I just pulled her into a hug. Chloe, you don’t know. He’s mean to me because he’s trying to protect you. On Chloe’s birthday, the Montgomerys hosted a small, intimate party at the house. Liam’s entire family was there. Mrs. Montgomery held Chloe’s hand in one of hers, and Liam’s hand in the other. Tears welled in her eyes, but her smile was overwhelmingly joyful. “Seeing you two so happy together… as parents, it’s the greatest comfort we could ever ask for.” I stood on the outskirts of the crowd, watching Chloe’s face flush bright red. Suddenly, she stood up. “Liam, I… I have something to tell you.” The entire room went dead silent. She took a deep breath. “I like you. I’ve liked you since we were kids. Will you… will you be my boyfriend?” Liam stared at her. The seconds ticked by agonizingly slowly. The hopeful light in Chloe’s eyes began to dim with every passing moment of his silence. Just as she was about to burst into tears… Liam closed his eyes for a second, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Then, very slightly, but undeniably, he nodded. He said, “Yes.” The room erupted into cheers. Mrs. Montgomery cried tears of joy, covering her mouth. Liam’s parents were grinning from ear to ear. Chloe launched herself like a joyful little bird straight into Liam’s arms, hugging him fiercely. Liam’s arms hovered in the air for a moment, before slowly, securely wrapping around her. He lowered his head and gently kissed the crown of her hair. I stood hidden in the shadows near the doorway, quietly watching this perfect, happy scene unfold. The warm glow of the candles illuminated every smiling face. I thought back to my previous life. I thought of his scalding tears, and the words he had forced out with the last ounce of his strength: “If there is a next life… I have to protect Chloe properly.” Liam. In this life… you did it. I quietly turned around and walked back to my room. I placed the gift I had prepared on Chloe’s desk. It was a glass jar, filled with hundreds of origami stars I had spent the last week folding. Inside every single star, I had written the exact same sentence. “Chloe, be happy.” I rolled my suitcase down the stairs. The party in the living room was still loud and vibrant. No one noticed me. The taxi was waiting outside the gate. I got in. Closed the door. The airport. The security line. The boarding gate. My phone buzzed. A text from Chloe: “Anna!!! Where did you go?! I looked all over the house for you! Mom said you went out to buy me a present?” “Hurry back! Liam gave me a necklace, it’s so beautiful! I want to show you as soon as you get home!” I typed: “That’s wonderful. I’m so happy for you.” I powered the phone off. The plane taxied down the runway and lifted into the air. Outside the window, the lights of the city grew further and further away. I leaned my head against the seat and closed my eyes. Memories flashed through my mind like a movie reel. At five years old, Chloe grabbing Liam’s hand and splitting her candy with me. At fifteen, eating popsicles on the roof, promising to be best friends forever. At eighteen, the brilliant light in Liam’s eyes when he confessed his love to me. And in my past life… the sterile white hospital room, him holding my freezing, dying body, his tears burning my skin. “If there is a next life…” Finally, the reel stopped on tonight. In the flickering candlelight, him nodding and saying “Yes.” Chloe throwing herself into his arms, her smile absolute perfection. The tears I had held back for so long finally, uncontrollably, flooded down my face. In the quiet cabin of the airplane, no one noticed. Goodbye, Liam. Goodbye, Chloe. I hope that in this life, the two most precious people I have ever known get everything they ever wanted. I hope you stay safe, happy, and grow old together. As for my battle… it lies thousands of miles away in a foreign country, fighting against a body that is destined to betray me.

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While hiking deep in the mountains, we decided to spend the night in an abandoned chapel. In the middle of the night, I was violently awakened by the unmistakable, sickening sounds of my best friend and my boyfriend sleeping together. I quietly sat up in my sleeping bag to eavesdrop. “You’re a genius for using this hiking trip as an excuse.” “I locked the heavy wooden doors. She can’t escape. There’s an old stone well out back. After she falls asleep, we’ll smash her skull in with the hatchet and dump her at the bottom.” My blood ran completely cold. Trembling, I silently crawled behind the crumbling altar at the front of the chapel to hide. They had absolutely no idea that my hometown was just a few miles from this mountain ridge. And they had absolutely no idea that the deity worshipped in this specific chapel wasn’t a saint. It was a demon. Listening to my boyfriend and my best friend whisper about my murder, a freezing, unnatural gust of wind swept through the room, sending a shiver down my spine. The deep wilderness. A ruined chapel at midnight. Three people. There’s an old superstition in the mountains: Never enter a haunted shrine alone. Looking at my situation now, three people shouldn’t enter one, either. Murdering me. That was the real reason they dragged me out into the wilderness for this hiking trip. I didn’t have the time to feel heartbroken over my boyfriend’s betrayal, and I didn’t have the luxury of wondering why they wanted me dead. Right now, my only thought was how to make it out of here alive. My boyfriend, Carter, had bragged before we went to sleep about securing the heavy iron deadbolt on the main doors. My best friend, Riley, had tightly latched the only two windows. The only remaining exit was a jagged, gaping hole in the chapel’s rotten roof. Right now, this abandoned building was a perfect locked-room trap. If I tried to make a run for it, I would instantly alert them. One against two. I had zero chance of winning a physical fight. Was I really destined to die here tonight? As my heart hammered against my ribs, my eyes darted around and caught sight of the wooden idol resting on the altar. By the pale moonlight filtering through the roof, I could clearly see the idol’s features. It was a carving of a short, hunched old man squatting on a pedestal. He had a round face, a creepy smile, a crescent moon carved into his forehead, and a massive beard that touched the floor. He wore a complex, blood-red crown. It was the Caretaker of the Earth. I instinctively looked at the idol’s eyes. Normal statues of the Caretaker always have intricately carved eyes. But the eye sockets of this specific idol were completely hollow, resembling two pitch-black, bottomless pits. This was the exact entity from my hometown’s darkest urban legends! It was only then that I remembered I had never told Carter the exact location of the rural town where I grew up. Because I hadn’t been back in years, and Carter had driven a completely unfamiliar backroad to get here, I hadn’t even realized we were on the outskirts of my hometown. This meant that if I could just escape this chapel and run into the woods, I would eventually hit familiar territory and find the neighboring villages. But the only way out of this chapel… was him. But local lore always warned: Once you invite the Caretaker, it is almost impossible to send him away. I gritted my teeth. Walking on my tiptoes, I carefully bypassed the corner where those sickening, intimate noises were coming from. I crept up to the idol, reaching into the shadows behind the pedestal to pull out a single, unlit wax candle. Placing candles or offerings behind the idol was a tradition in these parts, meant to make it easier for passing travelers to pay their respects. Lighting three candles was a standard prayer of respect. But lighting exactly one candle… was a desperate summon. This was something my grandmother had taught me. But at the same time, she had given me a terrifying warning. “If you ever find yourself facing certain death, light a single candle to the Caretaker and sincerely whisper your plea. The Caretaker is immensely powerful and can solve any problem. But successfully summoning him is a massive gamble. It all depends on your fate!” “However, unless you are completely out of options, absolutely never light a single candle to him. Inviting a demon is easy, but banishing it is hell. Catastrophic things will happen.” My grandmother had repeated that final warning to me countless times. But right now, I was truly facing a brutal execution. I had no choice but to follow her instructions. I quietly pulled a lighter from my pocket and lit the wick. The tiny, flickering orange flame was glaringly obvious in the pitch-black room. Cold sweat poured down my face. I closed my eyes, pressed my trembling palms together, and silently pleaded in my head. Caretaker of the Earth, Carter and Riley are going to murder me. I don’t want to die. I want to live. I don’t want to die, please let me live… I placed the candle onto the iron tray at his feet. My grandmother had said that if the candle burned down completely within one minute, it meant the Caretaker had accepted your request. If it went out, you were doomed. My entire body shook as I stared at the candle, anxiously waiting, praying for it to melt faster. “Where are you? Sylvia—” Carter’s cold, menacing voice suddenly pierced the darkness. A freezing chill shot straight up my spine. I scrambled up onto the altar and huddled directly behind the wooden idol. “Sylvia! Where are you? Where did she go?!” It was Riley’s voice. I could hear the sheer, frantic panic in her tone. I crouched down, making myself as small as possible, using the idol to block my body. “Where is she?!” “I don’t know! I turned around and her sleeping bag was empty!” “Find her, now! I have a really bad feeling about this. Do you think she heard us talking?!” “Check the corners! She has to be in here somewhere. I double-checked the locks on the doors and windows myself.” My heart violently leaped into my throat. Because I could hear the crunching sound of heavy hiking boots slowly creeping toward my side of the room. I clamped both hands over my mouth, desperately trying to muffle my own rapid, terrified breathing. After what felt like an eternity, the footsteps in the chapel faded away. Riley’s voice echoed again: “Carter, did she manage to run away? I literally can’t find her anywhere. Did we just not hear the door open because we were too… focused?” “Maybe…” Just as I thought I had narrowly escaped death, Carter’s next sentence made my blood run completely cold. “Why is there a lit candle sitting here?” After a moment of dead, suffocating silence, the brutal sound of a heavy hatchet violently chopping into wood echoed through the room. CRACK—! The top half of the Caretaker’s wooden head was cleaved clean off. It tumbled heavily off the altar and crashed onto the stone floor, leaving the idol with only half a nose and a carved mouth. Tears welled up in the corners of my eyes. I was so paralyzed by terror that I couldn’t even cry out loud. “Damn it, I missed,” Carter’s voice was dripping with annoyance. He stared directly at the spot where I was hiding, enunciating every single word. “Sylvia. I originally planned to chop your head clean off with one swing. That way, you wouldn’t feel any pain.” My legs felt like jelly, but I took advantage of his distraction, leaped off the back of the altar, and limped frantically toward the heavy wooden doors at the front of the chapel. “Sylvia, you really shouldn’t have woken up. After all, our plan was to let you die peacefully in your sleep.” Riley laughed maliciously, then ordered Carter, “Hurry up and get her. Stop wasting time.” I pounded on the doors with everything I had, but the rotting, antique wood was unbelievably sturdy. It wouldn’t budge an inch. “HELP! SOMEBODY HELP ME! THEY’RE TRYING TO KILL ME! PLEASE!” My screams for help were entirely useless. In this isolated, abandoned mountain shrine, it was physically impossible for anyone to be walking by. “AHHHHH!” The heavy steel hatchet slammed into the wood right next to my ear. If it had been one inch closer, it would have sliced my ear clean off. Riley giggled flirtatiously. “You’re so annoying, your aim is terrible tonight. Let me do it this time.” I turned around and dropped to my knees, frantically bowing and begging them. “Please don’t kill me! Whatever you guys want, I’ll give it to you! I’ll step aside, I promise I won’t tell anyone you cheated on me! Just let me go!” Riley smiled sweetly. “But, Sylvia. Only dead girls don’t tell lies.” Suddenly, I felt incredibly cold. It wasn’t a psychological chill. It was a visceral, physical, freezing drop in temperature. A violent gust of freezing wind swept through the closed room, and all three of us heard a strange, rustling noise. Carter violently whipped his head around. “Who’s there?!” But there was no one behind them. Just shattered pieces of rotting wood and swirling dust. Riley suddenly looked terrified. She grabbed Carter’s arm, her voice tight with anxiety. “Baby, I suddenly feel really, really cold. Is it because you hit the idol with the hatchet? Is the spirit angry?” Carter patted her hand, trying to comfort her. “Don’t be scared, I’m right here. Let’s just kill her first…” Saying that, Carter looked at me, picked up a secondary hatchet from the floor, and took a step closer. But out of the corner of my eye, I noticed something. The single candle I had lit… had completely burned down to a puddle of wax. Which meant… my summon had worked! WHOOSH— The previously dead-silent night suddenly exploded into a howling gale. I knelt on the floor, my face deathly pale. Because I could see the Caretaker. He had materialized, completely silently, directly behind them. He was staring at me with a sickeningly sweet smile, not saying a single word. His face was frozen in a perfectly symmetrical, terrifyingly cheerful grin. My trembling finger pointed over Carter’s shoulder. “The Caretaker… he’s right behind you…” Carter violently spun around. “WHAT THE FUCK!” He grabbed Riley and leaped backward, staring at the entity with pure, defensive hostility. “Where the hell did you come from?! We locked the doors from the inside!” The Caretaker maintained his creepy smile. “Someone invited me. So, I arrived.” “Carter, Riley. You are committing murder for money.” He was incredibly short, barely reaching Carter’s chest. Because he looked so physically unimposing, Carter’s hostility shifted into arrogant annoyance. Carter scoffed at him. “None of your damn business!” Riley tugged hard on Carter’s jacket, lowering her voice. “Baby, he’s terrifying. Let’s just get out of here…” “Tomorrow at noon, buy a Powerball ticket. At 6:00 PM, buy the exact crypto coin you lost eleven grand on last month. At 7:00 PM, stand outside the Neon Tavern downtown.” Carter remained deeply suspicious. “Why the hell should I believe you?” The Caretaker kept smiling. He slowly turned his head to look at Riley, his voice rattling like a mechanical automaton. “Tomorrow at 5:00 AM, go for a morning jog. At noon, take a walk across the downtown suspension bridge. At 9:00 PM, call 911 for the very first elderly woman you encounter.” Riley clung to Carter, her voice trembling violently. “What… what exactly are you?!” “I am the Caretaker of the Earth.” The entity’s empty eyes seemed to glint in the dark. He looked incredibly sincere. “You are only killing her for the fifty thousand dollars in her savings account. Do exactly as I say, and you will walk away with tens of millions.” Having their darkest secrets exposed so casually, the two of them exchanged a shocked look. For some reason, they began to actually trust this bizarre, spectral entity. Because everything he had just said was 100% accurate. “You cannot kill her, or I will be very angry,” the Caretaker said, pointing a short, wooden finger at me. Walking away with tens of millions without having to murder anyone, and without having to live in paranoia about hiding a corpse. If they backed off now, they didn’t even have to worry about me calling the cops. After all, they hadn’t committed any actual crime yet. The worst they were guilty of was cheating. It was a guaranteed, zero-risk jackpot. After a few minutes of whispered debate, Carter and Riley chose to trust him. “Fine. But what happens if we do it and we don’t get the money?” The Caretaker let out a raspy chuckle. “If you don’t get the money, you can chop me to pieces. I will die in her place.” The way he phrased it was incredibly disturbing, sending a chill down everyone’s spine. Just like that, a brutal, backwoods murder was completely defused by a few sentences from a ghost. My execution was permanently canceled. But… I felt a deep, gnawing sense that something was horribly, terribly wrong. I just couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was. Since all the cards were on the table and our relationship was officially over, Riley wordlessly packed up their gear, and the two of them hiked down the mountain in the dark. Leaving me alone with the Caretaker. “What about you.” His voice made me jump out of my skin. “What?” The Caretaker stared dead at me. His face still carried that perfectly symmetrical, horrifyingly cheerful grin. “What do you want?” “I already got what I wanted. I survived. Thank you, Caretaker.” “Not enough.” I finally realized what was so horribly wrong about him. From the very beginning, every single time he spoke, his carved, wooden mouth had never once opened. My grandmother had warned me. Only a corpse-stealing demon speaks without opening its mouth. “Sylvia, the Caretaker isn’t a saint. He’s a demon.” I finally remembered that exact sentence. That night, I fled the abandoned shrine in absolute terror. Not long after, Carter actually struck it rich. The Powerball ticket he bought won him a ten-million-dollar jackpot.

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After the divorce, my mother immediately stuck her nose back into my love life. She found a guy. An engineer. Handsome, loaded, and he spent nine months of the year working on remote job sites. His only drawback? A five-year-old son who was allegedly “mentally unstable.” My mother asked if I minded being a stepmom. I laughed. Why go through labor when you can just push a button and get a kid instantly? Isn’t the government worried about the birth rate anyway? I’ll take that deal. Chapter 1 David Vance was a busy man. We scheduled our first date at a coffee shop right downstairs from his downtown office. He showed up wearing light gray technical workwear. He had sharp, striking features, but a gentle smile. I was shocked. I didn’t think my mother had connections to resources this high-quality. Between sips of coffee, he gave me a brief breakdown of his life. Thirty-five years old. High six-figure salary. Field engineer for international infrastructure projects. He was almost always traveling overseas. After the conversation, he made it clear he was interested, but he hesitated before adding a caveat. “I’m not sure if Mrs. Miller told you, but I have a five-year-old son. He’s in kindergarten.” I nodded. I understood teenage rebellion, but I couldn’t comprehend how a five-year-old could be “mentally unstable.” Did David have anger issues? Some hidden, dark vices? I looked him up and down again. His hands were clasped tightly into fists, resting nervously on the table. He offered me a smile that was the definition of painfully earnest and maybe a little slow. He looked like a decent guy. “Can I ask why you and your ex got divorced?” David was silent for a moment. “It wasn’t a divorce. I’m a widower. She passed away from an amniotic fluid embolism during childbirth.” I froze. My mother had conveniently left that part out. “Because of my job, I was traveling all over the world when he was born. He grew up with his grandparents. When I finally brought him to live with me at age four, he just…” Since we were laying it all on the table, he rubbed his hands together awkwardly, testing the waters. I thought about it for a long time. Finally, I said, “I have a three-year-old daughter. We are a package deal. She has to live with me. I need to know if you can accept that.” My daughter, Goldie, is a little Golden Retriever I rescued from a puppy mill bust. I spent eight grand on her surgeries, which started a cold war with my ex-husband. We divorced six months later. David blinked for three seconds. The moment I pulled out a picture of Goldie, he let out a massive sigh of relief. Aside from Goldie, David knew my situation. Thirty years old. A freelance ghostwriter bringing in pennies a month. Practically a hermit. Because of my low income, I’d been living off my mom since the divorce, and she never let me forget it. “Should we swap numbers? Maybe keep talking?” I was satisfied with David. He needed a wife to take care of his son, and I needed his high salary to support my hermit lifestyle. More importantly, I am a total sucker for a pretty face. After we swapped numbers, I immediately Venmoed him my half of the coffee bill. David stared at the notification on his phone for a few seconds, then frowned, hesitating. “If… if you think I’m okay, maybe I could bring you to meet my son sometime soon.” “Honestly, he’s only ‘unstable’ occasionally. Most of the time, when he’s quiet, he’s actually pretty cute.” I didn’t say anything. He gritted his teeth and made a final offer. “I’m really impressed with you. If you’re willing, I’ll take care of all your existing debt as a gesture of goodwill, and I’ll transfer my paycheck to you every month for the household.” “Let’s do tomorrow. I have to take Goldie to the vet for a check-up tomorrow afternoon anyway. We can let them meet then.” After setting the time, I picked up Goldie from the groomer and went home, giving my mom a brief summary. I truly didn’t understand why David got so tense whenever the child was mentioned. A five-year-old. Even if he had a bad temper or was a brat, how “unstable” could he possibly be? “Mom, have you actually seen his son?” My mom scratched her head. “Yeah, I’ve seen him. The kid looks fine. Just as polite as his dad, but quiet. Introverted. Won’t talk to anyone.” “What are you afraid of with a five-year-old? It’s not like he can tear the roof off.” The next day, after Goldie’s vet appointment, I made a special trip to the mall. I bought some trendy little toys and some gourmet donuts. David picked me up. It was only then I realized he owned a massive, luxury condo right in the city center. Because he was so busy, his son was usually living there all alone. “For the past few years, his mother’s parents haven’t been in good health, so they couldn’t care for him anymore. I have a live-in nanny who comes to cook his meals and manage the house.” “What’s his name?” “Leo. His mother picked it.” I stopped talking. David parked the car in the underground garage, took the shopping bags from me, and led me inside. “Leo is still young. He might… need a lot of patience. A lot of care.” “I came back yesterday and gave the place a deep clean…” Before he could finish, he opened the door and found the living room in absolute chaos. cushions were thrown everywhere, and books were scattered across the floor. Leo was sitting alone on the sofa, stuffing a piece of mashed-up cake into his mouth with his bare hands. “Leo Vance!” David was furious. Leo stared blankly at Goldie for a second, then turned around and sprinted back into his room without a backward glance. David had a massive headache. He apologized to me profusely. Leo had locked his door tight. No matter what David said, he wouldn’t open it. It was going to take some time for the nanny to get back and clean up the mess, so I sat on the sofa with David, making small talk. Suddenly, David sighed. “He tells people he can hear cats and dogs talking. He claims a dog ‘found a mommy’ for him.” “But don’t worry, I’ve taken him to specialists. The doctors said it shouldn’t affect his normal development.” Since I talk to Goldie all the time, I didn’t instantly think Leo was unstable because of that. He was only five, after all. His dad had brought home a strange woman. Declaring ownership through destruction is standard toddler protocol. Just as I was thinking about how to bridge the gap with Leo, he quietly cracked his bedroom door open an inch. We made eye contact for a second. He looked away, spotted the nanny rushing in to clean, and slammed the door shut again. He was afraid of the nanny. I told the nanny to leave the trash for now and go home early. Then I walked over and knocked on Leo’s bedroom door. “The nanny is gone. If you’re hungry, come out and eat.” After a long silence, he pulled the door open, peeking out to confirm the woman was actually gone before he would step out. Goldie wagged her tail excitedly, panting, and began circling him. He looked uncomfortable, tugging at his clothes, which seemed a bit ill-fitting. Like a little thief, he reached out and touched Goldie on the head. Then, he swiped a donut from the shopping bag and stuffed it into his pocket. The nanny hadn’t prepared lunch, so we ordered in from a nice restaurant. “Are you my mommy?” Leo was sitting across from me, and the question came out of nowhere. Goldie was lying next to him and barked twice the moment he spoke. Leo looked up, staring intently at David and me. He had incredibly long eyelashes. His face was flushed, still carrying some chubby baby fat. He looked like a sweet little strawberry shortcake. David was right; Leo was actually pretty cute. “Yes,” David answered. “Would you like to live with her?” “Dad is a liar!” Leo’s eyes filled with tears, stubborn defiance in his voice. “My mommy died a long time ago!” The atmosphere at the table instantly became tense. I smiled, peeled a shrimp, and placed it on his plate. “I’m not your mommy. You can call me Aunt Maya. Or, if you want, you can call me Mom.” “Just like my nanny?” He offered a naive smile, but it looked a little mean. “No. I will live with you. I will discipline you when your dad isn’t around. The nanny might not spank you, but I will.” His eyes filled with a fresh layer of tears. The very next afternoon, David and I went to City Hall and got our marriage license. Then, he hurriedly helped me move my things into the condo. David had received an overseas assignment from his company two weeks ago, but because this trip was going to be for a long time, he hadn’t been able to bring himself to leave Leo alone. That was the only reason he had delayed. “I’m going to be gone for over six months this time. I’m trusting you to take care of Leo. If anything happens, text me. I’ll reply as soon as I can.” “Leo might be a handful at kindergarten. I apologize in advance; you’ll probably have to listen to the teachers scold you for him.” “If he does something wrong and makes you angry, you have my permission to discipline him harshly. Just… don’t bruise him.” “Video call me if you miss me.” At the airport gate, David was micromanaging every detail, giving me endless instructions. I had wanted Leo to take a day off to see him off, but the boy stubbornly refused to come. David’s silhouette grew smaller as he walked down the jet bridge, finally disappearing into the crowd. On the way back, I made a detour to a grocery store. Ever since I noticed Leo was afraid of that nanny, I had David fire her. With no live-in help, I had to cook. Day one of being a mom. To make a good impression on Leo, I drove to pick him up from school. But I saw him lingering at the school gate with his friends, refusing to come out. The other kids were actually circling him, jumping up and down and singing a song. What is this? Why are they playing at the gate? Why are they singing? It’s not Leo’s birthday. I couldn’t take waiting any longer. I got out of the car, walked over, and lifted Leo right out of the crowd. “Sorry, boys, but Leo’s mom said he has to come home early for dinner today. He can’t play right now.” I buckled Leo into the back seat. The loose, floppy seat belt was a joke on him. I forgot to buy a booster seat. Goldie was sniffing all over him, licking his hands, nudging his chin with her head. “What do you want for dinner?” He said nothing. I almost forgot. He didn’t seem to like his new stepmom very much. I changed the subject. “I fired the nanny.” I secretly watched his reaction in the rearview mirror. He looked up, looking incredibly surprised and happy. But his answer to my previous question was completely nonsensical. “I want lasagna. BBQ ribs. Sweet and sour chicken…” Cold sweat broke out on my back. I had vastly overestimated myself. In the end, I took him out to a diner to solve the dinner problem. Chapter 2 After dinner, we went home. I fed Goldie, and Leo meekly washed his hands and went to his room to look at picture books. Where is this kid ‘unstable’? This kid is perfectly normal. I was happy for the peace and quiet. I opened my laptop and started writing. By 9:00 PM, Leo was still playing Sudoku. He had no intention of going to sleep. I took his puzzle away and told him to go take a shower. He gripped his bedroom doorframe tightly, screaming, “I can wash myself! I can wash myself!” I pried his stubborn fingers loose. “Can you actually get yourself clean? You smell like a locker room.” He let go in shock, his cheeks puffing out in anger. He looked like a cute little pufferfish. “Liar! I take a shower every single day!” In the end, I forced him into the bathroom. Leo’s bathroom had a huge soaking tub. The faucet was set very low, making it easy for him to fill the tub himself. I stripped his clothes off, put him in the tub, and started scrubbing him like I was washing a muddy potato. When I got to his arm, he suddenly started crying out in pain. I thought he was just being dramatic, but when I looked closer, his eyes were filled with tears. That’s when I noticed a massive purple bruise on his right upper arm. I became serious. “How did this happen?” He wouldn’t say. I lightly swatted his rear end, feigning fury. “Leo Vance. Speak!” He wailed like a teakettle. “If I wasn’t good, the nanny would pinch me. She said I was a charity case that nobody wanted.” I was stunned. It was only then that I realized his question, “Just like my nanny?”, hadn’t been a challenge. It was a test. He was truly afraid that I would abuse him. Regaining my composure, I softened my voice, wrapped him in a giant beach towel, and lifted him out of the tub. “How long was she doing this to you? Why didn’t you tell your dad?” I pulled his pajamas onto him, feeling frustrated on his behalf. “You seem plenty talkative with me. Why do you go mute around your father?” “I only see Dad for a little bit. By the time I see him, my owies don’t hurt anymore.” I pulled the pajama hood over his head. “Don’t hurt? Then who was just screaming bloody murder in the bathroom?” “Listen to me. If anyone ever bullies you again, you punch them right back. You understand? I’ve got your back. We don’t need to tell your dad.” I tucked him into bed, then turned around to fix his closet. What is this kid even wearing? Everything is high-water. “No new clothes.” Leo was peeking out from under the covers, his voice muffled. “The nanny took all the new clothes Dad bought me.” Motherfucker. Suppressing anger only gives you ulcers. At midnight, I was tossing and turning, unable to sleep, plotting a way to teach her a lesson. But I didn’t expect that before I could go looking for her, she would come right to me. The teacher called. Leo had gotten into a fight at kindergarten. I peeled into the parking lot. When I got there, that old witch was sitting on the floor, screaming and crying, putting on a full performance. I pulled Leo behind me, knelt down, and checked him over multiple times. I only found a tiny scratch on his face from another kid’s fingernail, and I let out a sigh of relief. “You’re this little brat’s parent! Look at what he did to my precious grandson!” I bent down and pointed to the child, who was covered in bruises and had a black eye. I asked Leo, “Did you do this?” He wouldn’t answer. “Leo Vance! Look up at me when I’m talking to you!” He meekly looked up, his hands twisting nervously in front of his chest, muttering softly, “I did it.” “He started it. He said I was an orphan with no mommy. I got mad.” I patted his head and praised him. “Good. Good job.” The teacher looked like she had just swallowed a fly. “Leo’s mom, it’s one thing for the children to not know better, but you are an adult.” The nanny screamed, “Just an apology? My grandson is beaten like this and all you want is an apology? She has to pay!” “Leo didn’t do anything wrong. I’m standing right here. Since when does Leo not have a mom?” I turned around and smiled at the nanny, who was still wailing on the floor. “Funny you should mention money. I just realized some cash is missing from my desk drawer. I was just about to come find you.” She shivered, tightening her jaw in defiance. “What are you talking about?” “It doesn’t matter if you admit it. The security cameras in the house saw everything.” She scrambled to her feet, glaring at me viciously. “I don’t care! Your son beat my grandson, and you’re going to pay. If you don’t, I’ll make you sorry!” Her face twisted into a smug smile of certainty. “I know your man isn’t in the country right now.” I tightened my fists, ready to throw hands. But the teacher grabbed my wrist. “Do not get emotional. An apology will solve this. His father is… he’s powerful. Not someone you want to make an enemy of.” Just as she finished speaking, a voice came from the doorway. “Who? Who is bullying my son?” Rex’s father was only five-foot-seven, but he was built like a brick shithouse. Standing there, he looked like a retaining wall. His eyes darted to Leo behind me. “This is the little brat who bullied my son?” I shoved Leo behind the teacher. In a low voice, I said, “Call the cops.” At that moment, I was incredibly grateful that after being sexually harassed by a former boss, I had taken Sanda and Muay Thai classes. That training was the only reason I was able to hold my own until the police arrived. I turned over all the video footage of the nanny stealing from the condo to the officers. The nanny was held in custody for seven days for theft. I also paid the medical bills to settle the fight between Leo and Rex. On the drive home, Leo didn’t say a word. But that night, while he was eating noodles, he suddenly burst out crying and started apologizing. I pulled out a tissue, looking disgusted, and wiped his eyes. “Why are you crying like this? If your dad saw this, he’d think I was abusing you.” He climbed onto a kitchen chair, cupped my face in his hands, his face a mess of tears and snot. “Does it hurt? I’ll make it better.” I pulled him down and hugged him, patting his back. “It doesn’t hurt anymore.” “Leo, I want to praise you. You did a good job today.” “If someone bullies you, you can hit back, or you can report them. If your father were here today, he would have made the same choice I did.” “I just want you to know, no matter what happens, your dad and I are always your strongest supporters. Do you understand?” He cried again. How can a child have this many tears? At least Goldie was good; her broad shoulders were always available for me to wipe my tears on. I sighed, helplessly patting his back. “Baby, let’s eat first, okay?” After dinner, Leo played with blocks for a bit before getting sleepy. I handled the clothes stripping, tub tossing, the whole routine. By now, bathing Leo was an art form. I was washing that potato with silky-smooth efficiency. He let me pull his clean, new pajamas onto him. Goldie wagged her tail and circled his bed. Ever since we moved in, Goldie didn’t sleep with me anymore. She was obsessed with Leo. I was annoyed, but I was also glad he had Goldie to keep him company. He wasn’t unstable. He was just too lonely. He desperately wanted his dad to spend more time with him. I woke up in the middle of the night to get a glass of water. That’s when I realized the little brat had somehow ended up in my bed. He was sleeping on top of the covers in his new dinosaur pajamas. Goldie was lying at his feet, using her stomach to keep them warm. My eye twitched. I lifted the covers and tucked him in. He mumbled something and snuggled into my arms, whispering a single word. Of course, the little brat woke up with a fever the next morning. And not just him. Goldie, who had spent the night warming his feet, was sick too. I called the school to excuse him and immediately rushed both the kid and the dog to the vet. Goldie had to stay at the animal hospital for two days for observation. I drove Leo home first. On the way back, he suddenly yelled for me to stop the car. He scrambled out of his booster seat with immense effort. He crouched next to a dumpster and looked up at me. “She looks pregnant. Can we take her home?” I touched his red, frozen nose and his cold cheeks. I smiled. “Of course.” I took off my jacket, and together, we rushed the pregnant tabby cat to the pet hospital. Leo asked me, “Why can’t we bring her home? She won’t fight with Goldie.” “The doctor needs to check if she and the babies are healthy. I’ll bring you back on Saturday to pick her and Goldie up, okay?” He nodded solemnly. Because of this, he was distracted and anxious for two solid days. Early Saturday morning, he was burrowing around under my covers, refusing to let me sleep until I woke up. Left with no other choice, I braved the morning cold to take him to pick up the zoo. Goldie hadn’t seen me in days and was furiously enthusiastic, jumping all over me. Leo, on the other hand, was entirely focused on the pregnant cat. One minute he was feeding her a cat treat, the next he was petting her belly. Goldie got so jealous she was whining and circling around the apartment.

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This is the story of the day before my boyfriend was supposed to finish his three-year assignment at one of our remote manufacturing plants. I hadn’t told him I was coming; I wanted to surprise him. When I got to the apartment door, I heard him inside, having a dinner party with his colleagues. “Come on, just let Chloe have one glass of wine. Don’t be such a protective tightwad.” “Seriously, you guard her so closely, you might as well just lock her in a tower.” Then, I heard that familiar voice respond. “Stop it, guys. She’s my star trainee. If she gets pissed off, I’m the one who suffers for it.” My heart did a painful somersault. Just yesterday, he had grumbled to me over text: [This trainee is so incompetent. It’s exhausting to teach her! I’m so over it!] But now he was calling her his “star.” I pushed down the instant flash of suspicion, punched the code into the keypad, and opened the door. Chapter 1 The second the door swung open, the laughter inside stopped dead. Several pairs of eyes snapped toward me, filled with shock and defensiveness at my sudden appearance. Blake casually removed his hand from the back of the girl’s chair. He forced a look of absolute delight onto his face at my arrival. “Audrey! What are you doing here?” Around the table, glances were exchanged, followed by a few forced, awkward laughs. I didn’t respond. I just looked directly into Blake’s deep, bright eyes and said, “Aren’t you flying back to New York tomorrow? I came to pick you up.” The room fell silent. Even Blake’s smile faded a little. Then, the sharp sound of glass shattering broke the tension. Someone shouted urgently: “Chloe!” I felt Blake go instantly rigid in front of me. He threw my hand off in a second. “I’ll go check on her.” Half the sentence was lost in the rush of air he left behind. In the blink of an eye, Blake had rushed to the girl’s side. She stood there looking completely helpless, a shattered glass at her feet. Her gaze was filled with suppressed grievance and vulnerability as she gazed adoringly up at Blake, who was checking her anxiously for injuries. A few knowing looks floated my way, tinged with schadenfreude. “It’s fine, it’s just a glass,” Blake said, trying to comfort her. Someone else joked, “Hey, let it break! Breaking glass is good luck, right? Fresh start and all that.” “Besides, it’s just a glass. Your mentor adores you; are you really afraid he’s going to yell at you?” The girl cast a timid glance at me. Blake followed her gaze, looking over. Our eyes met in mid-air. He froze for a second, as if finally remembering I was in the room. He forced a casual chuckle. “I’m always giving her a hard time at work, so she’s a little scared of me. Breaking a glass nearly scared her to death.” “Come, let me introduce you. This is my trainee, Chloe Bennett.” Chloe Bennett. I knew her very well. In Blake’s texts, she was the girl who was incompetent, clumsy, and always getting into trouble. He was always complaining that mentoring her was a massive headache. I felt bad for him and asked if I should call the plant manager—a friend of my father’s—to switch trainees. Blake had refused, saying it was a learning experience and that he couldn’t let my father down. It seemed there was another reason entirely. At the very least, his actual “headache” over Chloe wasn’t one-thousandth of what he’d told me. I ignored his cheerful introduction. I just looked at the pile of shards on the floor. “It’s just a glass. Who cares that it broke?” “Audrey, let’s not make a deal out of this.” Blake’s tone was solemn, as if he were trying to teach me a lesson in manners. “I’m sorry, this is all my fault,” Chloe said, moving to apologize by bending over to pick up the pieces. Blake stopped her immediately. He started cleaning up the mess for her. But the moment his eyes fell on the shards, he froze. The crystal fragments reflected the light beautifully. That was the gift I had given Blake for Valentine’s Day last year. Custom-made, private reserve crystal. Only two in the world—his and mine. I was too proud to say “forever,” so I used the gift to express it. He looked up at me carefully, tentatively. After several attempts to speak, he finally said, “Audrey, it was my fault. It had nothing to do with Chloe—” “It’s fine, it’s just a glass,” I interrupted him, my voice flat. “If it breaks, you get a new one.” In the past, he had treasured every single gift I gave him, not allowing anyone to touch them. Yet today, everyone at the party was using paper cups. Including Blake himself. That single broken crystal glass was the smoking gun of his blatant favoritism toward Chloe. It wasn’t an illusion, and it wasn’t baseless paranoia. Even before Blake had said that sentence, I was trying to rationalize his behavior. I was blaming my discomfort on oversensitivity. But the facts were right there. I couldn’t lie to myself. At the dinner table, his colleagues tried too hard to obscure the truth. They kept telling me stories about Blake’s strictness and hilarious mistakes Chloe had made under his supervision, trying to frame it as a strict-mentor/clumsy-apprentice dynamic. But they couldn’t hide the edge of hostility in their tone toward me. It was as if my appearance had forcibly broken up the perfect couple in their eyes. They tried to run interference for Blake, but couldn’t resist sticking up for Chloe. My blatant coldness caused the party to end awkwardly. After everyone left, Blake had me sit on the sofa in the living room. He knelt down and carefully placed some cozy, pink slippers in front of me, taking off my heels. He made me hot tea and brought over some fruit. Then he rolled up his sleeves to go clean up the mess in the dining room. He was exactly like he used to be—attentive, detailed, taking care of my every need. I looked at the steaming tea on the table and remembered college, how Blake always followed right behind me. I had a bad temper back then. Proud, cold, and unapproachable. Blake was the warm, friendly guy who could talk to anyone. He pursued me relentlessly for four years. He was like a servant who willingly accepted my dominance, ready to follow my commands at a moment’s notice. He wouldn’t let other guys get near me, wouldn’t let anyone else try to do me favors. For anything involving me, big or small, he refused to let anyone else handle it. “You’re my Rapunzel, Audrey. I can only rest easy when you’re tucked away safely in your tower.” I struggled in the memories, almost starting to let go of my reason. Then came the click of the lock. The door opened. Chloe Bennett had come back. She nodded at me but didn’t speak. She walked directly to the shoe rack, opened it, dug around, closed it, and finally, her gaze fell on my feet. Her expression was timid, but her words carried a definite edge of provocation. “Um, Audrey? Those are my slippers you’re wearing…” They were pink house shoes, very cute, but not my style. However, Blake was wearing a dark blue pair. I had assumed Blake had specifically prepared a matching couple’s set for my visit. Hearing her words, I lowered my eyes for a moment, then stood up and took the shoes off. The moment my bare feet touched the hardwood floor, a wave of coldness surged through me, chilling me to the core. I changed back into my own high heels and looked down at Chloe. I was practically laughing from rage. I wasn’t even planning on counting her in this, initially. But how could someone be so stupid as to go begging for a slap in the face? “Audrey!” Blake appeared from behind me. The sound of his rapid footsteps betrayed his anxiety. He didn’t hesitate for a second. He stood directly between me and Chloe, terrified I was going to do something to her. “I didn’t have time to tell you beforehand. I’m living in the factory dorms right now, so I let Chloe stay here temporarily.” “She was afraid you’d get the wrong idea and offered to stay in a hotel.” “But it’s very late now. There are probably no rooms left.” Before Chloe could explain anything, Blake had already found the perfect excuse for her. I remained silent. I just scanned the room briefly, and I already saw many matching couple’s items. The place was filled with traces of two people living together. Blake tried to offer another explanation: “Chloe’s boyfriend comes over occasionally.” “Is that so?” “Yes.” Blake’s gaze didn’t waver. After a brief staredown, a sarcastic laugh escaped my lips. “Fine. Whatever you say.” I looked around the fully renovated, two-bedroom, two-bathroom apartment. “So, how much rent are you collecting from her a month?” Blake froze. “What rent?” Once he understood my meaning, his brow furrowed in annoyance. “She’s just a college grad who only started working a little while ago. How much money do you think she has?” “Do you really have to pick a fight over a few thousand dollars?” I had known Blake for so long, and yet this was the first time I had ever seen this aggressive, defensive side of him. I looked at him silently, feeling completely estranged. “She’s a young girl, living in an apartment rented in your name, and you’re actively paying her rent.” “You’re so thoughtful toward her. Why didn’t you spare a thought for her reputation?” Blake’s favoritism toward Chloe was undisguised. That’s why his colleagues found it normal, and instead felt repulsed by my sudden appearance as the official girlfriend. In their eyes, Blake and Chloe were the couple. Realizing he had lost control of his temper, Blake tried to explain further. But a sob came from behind him. Chloe wiped away tears. “Ment… Blake, I should just go. Don’t fight because of me.” Blake panicked, turning around to grab her tightly. “Do you know what time it is? Where are you going to go!” Chloe bit her lip in grievance, tears flowing down her face. “You don’t need to worry about me. I have my ways.” “If I don’t worry about you, who will!” Blake’s eyes were filled with anxiety. He turned and shouted at me: “Audrey, I’ll find a time to explain everything to you properly, but this has nothing to do with Chloe.” “Don’t take it out on her!” “It’s the middle of the night. Where do you expect a girl like her to go?” I let out a cold laugh. I turned around without a second thought and grabbed my suitcase, which I hadn’t even had time to open. Watching this trashy, melodramatic exchange between the cheating scumbag and his mistress was infuriating, and my breeding wouldn’t allow me to go crazy and scream. I wasn’t going to play Chloe’s games. I was genuinely leaving. Behind me came Blake’s anxious shout: “Audrey, where are you going!” “Wait for me!” Chapter 2 Yet until the moment I got into a taxi to a hotel, I didn’t see him chase after me. I stood on the balcony of the penthouse suite, smoking one cigarette after another. The phone on the table next to me rang non-stop. It was Blake, but I didn’t want to answer. Until the last cigarette burned out, the ringing continued. I picked up the phone and texted him the hotel address and room number. The world went silent. As I waited, I decided to be merciful just once. To be fair, Blake had been amazing to me. Four years of college, three years of grad school, and now three years of work. For ten years, outside of my parents, he was the person who had been the most accommodating to my temper. He had taken care of every detail, covered every angle, been everything to me. I loved him, and I relied on him. If he confessed, told me he had a change of heart, I would accept defeat. Soon, there was a knock on the hotel door. I opened it and saw Blake, completely out of breath. The sweat had soaked the hair on his forehead; he looked like he had just been pulled out of a lake. “I’m just glad you’re okay.” I lowered my eyes and let him in. I couldn’t not have a soft spot for him. He didn’t even bother taking care of himself before he started organizing the room for me, exactly as he always had. I was waiting. Waiting for him to open his mouth first. At 3:00 AM, Blake handed me a cup of warm milk and finally spoke. “Audrey, don’t overthink this.” “The reason I’m good to Chloe is that I feel bad for what she’s been through. She comes from a very poor background, she’s suffered so much…” I felt confused for a split second. I didn’t think that after all this waiting, after all this build-up, Blake would still be talking about Chloe Bennett. He even wanted me to empathize with Chloe’s suffering, to make me feel guilty for my behavior today. “Chloe’s life hasn’t been as smooth as yours. She’s very sensitive. You shouldn’t have gotten angry at her.” The milk went cold, and my patience finally ran out. “Is that what you came here to say?” Blake paused, remembered something, and his gaze shifted away. “There are some issues with the production line. The plant manager told me I need to stay for another week…” Hearing this, I only found it hilarious. The plant manager had just texted me during dinner to congratulations on Blake finishing his assignment, wishing us a safe trip back and telling us it was great to see our relationship finally entering its next chapter. I curved my lips. Fine. I’ll stay with you. Blake hadn’t expected me to stay, and he failed to give an immediate reaction. “What? Are you unhappy about that?” Blake shook his head frantically. “No, I’m happy.” I nodded. “Good. Glad to hear it.” The next morning, I personally dropped Blake off at the factory gates and watched him walk inside. Then, I told the driver to drive to the apartment I had left last night. When the door opened, Chloe was still there. As if nothing had happened yesterday, I asked casually, “Oh, you’re here, Chloe. Don’t you have to work today?” “Blake said he had some things here, and I came to help him pack them up.” As she spoke, I pulled a large suitcase out from behind me. Chloe Bennett went completely pale, staring at it blankly. But I acted as if I hadn’t noticed and continued talking: “By the way, when Blake and I get married, you absolute must come.” Chloe Bennett ran out of the apartment, looking like she had seen a ghost. I put away my fake, sugary smile, took out my phone, and opened the spyware I had installed last night. While Blake was fast asleep, I had put something on his phone. Soon, the voices of the two came over the speaker. Blake was anxiously asking what happened. The only response was Chloe’s sobbing: “Go back and marry Audrey Sterling. We’re over.” Blake was silent. Chloe’s voice was muffled. I could even imagine him pulling her into his arms, pressing her face against his chest. Finally, Blake’s voice came again. It was gravelly, with an edge of tears. “In a few years, I’ll transfer you to corporate headquarters.” “You’ll have an enviable job, a comfortable life. I’ll watch you get married, have a beautiful child, and live a happy life…” Chloe was crying uncontrollably. “I only want you!” My face had turned completely cold. I cannot accept deceit, and I certainly cannot accept being played. I vividly remembered the afternoon my father agreed to accept Blake. The crushing boulder that had been on my chest for years finally fell. I had thrown myself into Blake’s arms, crying. Three years. Just three years. That was my father’s condition for Blake, and my test. I knew three years would be hard, so I worked tirelessly to prove myself, to meet my father’s expectations, and to keep pace with Blake. To see Blake for just one extra hour, I could go three days without sleep, pushing myself to create a proposal that would satisfy my father. And listening to the recording… Blake Vance was mapping out an entire future for Chloe Bennett. Her job, her life, her relationship… they were pouring their hearts out to each other with profound devotion. If I hadn’t shown up that night, if I hadn’t known any of this… Then every future day of my life, I would have been living in this fake, disgusting “happiness.” I pulled out my phone and dialed my older brother in New York. The call was quickly answered by a cheerful voice. “Hey, little sis! Did you pick up your boyfriend?” “Mom and Dad have already arranged the welcome dinner…” The second I opened my mouth, I was horrified to find I was sobbing. “Caleb, Blake’s cheating on me.” I raised my hand and touched my face; it was covered in icy tears. My voice finally calmed down. “Make it happen. I want to ruin them both.” I have never been a patient, forgiving saint. Blake thought he could use me as a ladder. Ruin my life, gain status, and keep his mistress. Keep dreaming. After hanging up, I took a tissue and wiped away my tears. A gaping hole had been ripped in my chest, and a freezing cold wind was howling through it. Like a knife twisting, it was both cold and painful. To say I wasn’t heartbroken would be a lie. They always said Blake was devoted to me, but wasn’t I devoted to him as well? I scanned the apartment. It was vastly different from the place I had seen three years ago. During Blake’s first month here, he casually remarked that he couldn’t sleep well in the factory dorms. I had immediately bought this apartment. Worried that he would refuse it out of pride, and afraid of giving him financial pressure, I had found a reliable real estate agent to rent the apartment to him at well below market value. Over the past three years, I had only come here a handful of times during the first year. After that, I was busy, and Blake said he was busy. Every time I came to see him, we only had a quick meeting outside the factory. So I had no way of noticing his change of heart. But at this point, I didn’t want to obsess over when the rot had started. While Blake and Chloe were out in the afternoon, I had surveillance cameras installed in every room. After confirming the connection was perfect, I went back to the hotel.

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Every year on April Fools’ Day, my boyfriend teamed up with his “bro-girl” best friend to play a sick prank: he would fake a proposal to me. Last year, my heart pounded with anticipation as he slipped the ring onto my finger. But the moment it was on, a hidden spring mechanism in the trick ring snapped shut, crushing my skin. I screamed in agony. My boyfriend and his best friend, Chloe, just erupted into hysterical laughter. They didn’t care that my finger was turning purple and dangerously close to losing circulation. To apologize, my boyfriend, Liam, swore on his life that this year, the proposal would be real. So, when he frantically called me, begging me to meet him at the exact spot of our first date, I believed him. I got a blowout, had my nails done, spent two hours on my makeup, and bought a brand-new dress. I even had the engagement announcement drafted and ready to post on Instagram. But the second I walked through the door, my heart full of joy… a massive, heavy paper plate completely covered in shaving cream and frosting was smashed directly into my face. A bright, loud, feminine laugh exploded from the crowd. “I told you she’d show up! You owe me fifty bucks, Liam! You lose!” Liam stepped up and gently wiped the frosting off my face, using the same tender touch he always had. “You dressed up so pretty today, too. Shame about the outfit.” “I made a bet with the guys on whether we could actually get you to show up today. I bet you wouldn’t. If I won, I was going to propose to you tomorrow. If I lost, I’d propose next year.” “Sorry, babe. Since you showed up, I guess we aren’t getting married this year either.” I stood perfectly still, looking at him through the sticky mess on my eyelashes. “So. Do you even know what tomorrow is?” He smiled casually, brushing it off. “Of course I know. It’s our six-year anniversary. How could I forget?” The heavy, sickeningly sweet frosting clung to my skin. In that exact moment, a profound, suffocating exhaustion washed over me. It was all so pointless. Our anniversary was less important than an April Fools’ joke. Just like I was less important than his “bro-girl” best friend. I reached down and slid off the matching promise ring we had both worn for the last six years. “Then let’s break up.” The sharp clink of the silver ring hitting the hardwood floor silenced the entire VIP room. Liam frowned slightly, looking annoyed. “Stop being dramatic. It’s just a little frosting. I’ll help you wash it off when we get home. You know how Chloe is, she used to go way harder with her pranks. She actually held back for you.” “I went through a lot of trouble to get you out here. Don’t make me look like a whipped, spineless boyfriend in front of my friends.” Chloe immediately put on a pouting, victimized face. “Geez, Elena, it was just a joke. If you hate it so much, we won’t play anymore, okay? There’s no need to threaten a breakup over it.” “I told you guys she couldn’t take a joke, but you insisted on inviting her. Now look what happened.” She crossed her arms and threw herself onto the leather sofa, looking incredibly put out. Instantly, the glares from the rest of the friend group turned cold and hostile toward me. Chloe was the only girl in their tight-knit frat-bro circle. She was the undisputed princess of the group. If she was unhappy, everyone scrambled to coddle her. Liam was no exception. The very first time I met her, she organized a game of Truth or Dare. Everyone else’s dares were harmless, stupid pranks—like singing loudly in the street. But when it was my turn, she dared me to fake an orgasm in front of the entire room. I quietly said I wasn’t comfortable with that kind of inappropriate punishment. Chloe instantly burst into tears and ran out of the bar. The entire group of guys sprinted out after her. Including Liam. What was supposed to be my welcome party ended with me sitting alone at an empty table. Liam didn’t say anything about it afterward, but from that day on, he never brought me to another group hangout unless Chloe explicitly gave him permission. Liam glared at me, his brow furrowed in a stern warning. “Elena, apologize to Chloe.” If this were the past—if I was still desperately trying to fit in, still terrified of embarrassing Liam in front of his boys—I would have swallowed my pride. I would have proactively apologized and explained myself before he even had to ask. But right now, seeing that me threatening to end our six-year relationship carried less weight than Chloe looking slightly annoyed… I finally understood. From the very beginning, my place in his heart was inherently inferior to his “purely platonic” bond with his female best friend. I picked up the expensive trench coat and the designer handbag I had bought specifically to impress his parents later this week. I looked back at their judgmental, scrutinizing faces. “Liam. We’re done. I mean it. It’s over.” I turned and walked out, my brand-new heels clicking unsteadily against the floor. As the heavy door swung shut behind me, I could faintly hear Chloe’s teasing laughter from inside. “Are you really not going to chase after your little stage-five clinger?” Liam let out a cold, arrogant scoff. “She’s just throwing a tantrum to get attention. If I actually chased her, what would happen to you?” “Besides, she doesn’t have anyone else in this city to rely on but me. She’s easy to handle.” My heart, already burning and raw, was sliced wide open. His words were like freezing wind scraping against an open wound. Six years ago, Liam had stood in this exact same restaurant and confessed his love to me, swearing I was the only woman for him. Truthfully, it took a lot of effort for him to win me over. When I was fifteen, both of my parents remarried and started new families. I became the unwanted baggage that neither of them wanted to acknowledge. Because of that, I was terrified of dating. I was terrified of the idea of a family. I rejected him five times. The final time, a creep started stalking me while I was walking back to my lonely, empty apartment at night. Liam appeared out of nowhere and fought the guy off. He took a knife to the arm in the process and ended up in the ER. After the nurse finished stitching him up, his eyes suddenly turned red. “Elena, why do you have to be so fiercely independent? Can’t you just let me protect you?” In that single moment, the ice around my heart melted. I thought to myself: Maybe… maybe dating someone this reliable and gentle wouldn’t be so bad. That very night, he asked me to meet him at that restaurant and officially asked me to be his girlfriend. When I said yes, this usually sophisticated, composed guy picked me up and spun me around like a massive, goofy golden retriever. We spun until we were both dizzy and collapsed laughing onto the floor. He wrapped his strong arms around me, shielding me from the hard ground. We sat on the concrete steps outside the restaurant, and he swore to the moon that as long as he was around, I would never be lonely, and I would never be abandoned again. But tonight, the deepest, most vulnerable wounds I had ever exposed to him—wounds that had barely begun to scar over—were violently ripped open by the exact same man. I let out a bitter, self-deprecating laugh. I opened my email app on my phone and clicked on an unread message from five days ago. It was a corporate transfer offer to our company’s headquarters on the East Coast. The offer expired at midnight. I typed my reply: [I accept the transfer to the New York HQ.] It turned out those words weren’t actually that hard to type. I looked up at the moon, half-hidden behind thin, wispy clouds. Liam. I’m actually not easy to handle at all. And I don’t need you to handle me anymore. My train ticket to New York was booked for the afternoon of the 2nd. I didn’t have much time left. As soon as I got back to the apartment, I quickly washed the sticky, smelling frosting off my skin and started packing my life away. I didn’t have a lot of things. It was mostly just clothes and a few personal items. I managed to fit everything into two suitcases—one large, one small. At 3:00 AM, I booked a nearby hotel for the night. Just as I grabbed the handle of my suitcase to leave, the front door swung open. Liam stumbled in, completely exhausted from partying. He dumped a blackout-drunk Chloe onto our living room sofa, then handed me a plastic grocery bag filled with fresh pears. “Perfect timing, you’re still awake. She had way too much to drink. Go boil some pear and ginger tea for her hangover, otherwise she’s going to be throwing up all night.” I stood perfectly still, not moving a muscle. When we first moved in together years ago, he came home completely trashed from a frat reunion, throwing up constantly. My heart ached for him. I woke up at 2:00 AM to brew him a traditional hangover remedy on the stove. But the cheap clay pot I was using couldn’t handle the heat. It shattered violently. Boiling water and sharp ceramic shards exploded all over me, burning my arms and chest. When he saw what happened, the alcohol instantly left his system. He looked at my burns with absolute, agonizing guilt. From that day forward, he never let me step foot in the kitchen again. Even when he was sick with the flu and craving homemade chicken noodle soup, he would rather order overpriced delivery than let me turn on the stove. For the last few years, I hadn’t cooked a single meal. He even washed and peeled the fruit before handing it to me. To this day, there was a custom wooden sign hanging on the kitchen door that he had carved himself: [DANGER ZONE: ELENA IS STRICTLY FORBIDDEN.] I let out a cynical chuckle and tossed the plastic bag of pears directly into the trash can. “Sorry. Not my job. If she wants a hangover cure, she can order it on UberEats.” With that, I grabbed the handles of my suitcases and stepped toward the door. He suddenly lunged forward, grabbing my wrist and shoving me aggressively against the heavy wooden door. “Alright, Elena, enough. It was fine when you were just venting at the restaurant, but packing your bags? I already told you, it was an April Fools’ joke. Stop throwing a tantrum.” “I know you want to get married. I want to, too. Next year. I promise we will officially tie the knot next year, okay?” The smell of stale alcohol washed over my neck as he breathed heavily. But unlike every other time in the past, his half-hearted coaxing didn’t work. I shoved him away with both hands and delivered a sharp, echoing slap directly across his cheek. “Liam, I was incredibly clear. We are broken up. I am never marrying you!” The sharp crack of the slap didn’t just stun Liam; it also managed to partially wake up the drunk girl on the couch. Chloe stumbled to her feet, swaying violently, and charged at me. She raised her hand and slapped me hard across the face. “Who the hell do you think you are?! Who gave you the right to hit Liam?!” “If you want to break up, then break up! There are a million better girls out there! You… you’re literally a nobody!” A burning, stinging pain exploded across my cheek. My eyes turned red with fury. I raised my hand, ready to slap her back into next week. But Liam violently grabbed my wrist mid-air, twisting it and shoving me backward. The small of my back slammed brutally into the metal doorknob. A sharp, paralyzing pain shot through my spine. He stood protectively in front of Chloe, his brow furrowed in deep annoyance. “She’s blackout drunk. Are you seriously going to pick a physical fight with a drunk person?” “Just… get out of here. Go cool off. We’ll talk about this tomorrow when you’re acting rational.” I stared at him in absolute disbelief. He looked so incredibly indifferent, as if I were just some random, unreasonable stranger causing a scene in his home. He didn’t spare me a second glance. He immediately turned his attention back to the slurring, stumbling Chloe, his voice dropping into a soft, gentle whisper to calm her down. He saved every ounce of his tenderness for her. I dug my fingernails into my palms until they nearly bled. I grabbed my suitcases and walked out the door. I checked into the nearest Marriott. I didn’t manage to close my eyes until the sun started to rise. When I woke up, my phone was exploding with notifications. Aside from the generic mass texts about April Fools’ pranks, most of the messages were from coworkers and friends asking why I hadn’t shown up to work, and fishing for gossip about whether Liam had finally popped the question. My heart gave a dull, painful throb. I sent a mass reply saying simply, [We broke up,] feeling a deep, suffocating exhaustion settling into my bones. The ping-ping-ping of incoming texts continued. Some people thought it was a belated April Fools’ joke. Some said it was impossible. Some even told me to stop acting like a spoiled brat just because I was disappointed about the proposal. After all, in their eyes, Liam was the perfect man. Gentle, reliable, and incredibly successful. He was the ultimate safety net. A rare, high-value catch. But they didn’t know the reality of this “perfect man.” For our four-year anniversary, he set up a ridiculously romantic, elaborate proposal fake-out, specifically to lower my guard so his “bro-girl” could drop a realistic, terrifying rubber snake on my lap. For our five-year anniversary, he used a novelty trick ring Chloe had bought online to “propose.” I spent that night in the ER with the fire department using heavy machinery to cut the metal off my finger before it went necrotic. Yes, he had the ability to be an incredible safety net. But I wasn’t the person he was catching. In the past, I had automatically, delusionally blocked out all these massive red flags. I kept gaslighting myself, repeating: Aside from Chloe, he treats me like a queen. But once the fog finally cleared, I realized that a relationship like this—even if it ended in a proposal—was a dead end. I let out a bitter laugh and absentmindedly opened Instagram. Amidst the sea of predictable April Fools’ posts, the most prominent update was a massive photo dump from Chloe. Liam had taken her to a luxury movie theater, won her a massive teddy bear at the arcade, and played laser tag with her. Even though he technically always prioritized Chloe’s April Fools’ prank before celebrating our actual anniversary the next day… He had never, ever taken me to do any of those things. He always told me that arcades and laser tag were immature wastes of time for teenagers. He insisted that taking a pottery class or watching an indie documentary at home was much more “meaningful.” I had genuinely believed that was just his mature, sophisticated personality showing through. So, I actively suppressed all my youthful, silly desires from my first real relationship to match his energy. But now, looking at the photos of him laughing so brightly, so carefree, surrounded by neon arcade lights… I finally realized that those activities weren’t boring. He just found them boring when he was doing them with me. The comment section under Chloe’s post was an endless stream of people saying how cute they looked together. All of our mutual friends had liked the post. It had more likes than the post we made when we officially announced we were dating. Just as I was about to force-close the app, a text message popped up at the top of my screen. It was from Liam. [Don’t overthink the photos. I just took her out to burn off the hangover. If you have time, come back to the apartment. She said she wants to apologize to you.] I frowned deeply, my thumbs flying across the keyboard to type: [Don’t bother.] But suddenly, a delivery notification popped up from Amazon. The anniversary gift I had ordered for him weeks ago had just been signed for. I had used the apartment as the shipping address. I thought about it for a second. It was best to get total closure. I also needed to drop my set of keys on the counter. A clean, definitive break. I threw on some basic clothes and caught an Uber back to the apartment building. But the exact second I unlocked the front door and stepped inside, a massive splash of freezing, chemically-smelling liquid hit me directly in the face. A violent, burning sensation instantly erupted across my cheeks. “SURPRISE! HAPPY LATE APRIL FOOLS’!” Before I could even wipe my eyes, Chloe charged at me. She was holding a rough microfiber makeup remover cloth, aggressively scrubbing and dragging it across my face. The burning sensation intensified exponentially, accompanied by a terrifying, agonizing itch that felt like thousands of tiny insects chewing into my skin. It felt like my face was being physically peeled off. I violently shoved her away. I instinctively reached up to scratch my face, but the second my fingers made contact, a blinding, piercing pain shot through my nerves. “Cough… cough… my face… what is that?!” Liam sprinted out of the kitchen, grabbing my wrists forcefully to stop me from scratching. His voice was laced with genuine panic and fury. “Chloe! You said it was just micellar water! Why is her face breaking out in hives?!” Chloe’s face flushed a deep, guilty red. “I… I don’t know! I just grabbed a random bottle from the bathroom! Besides, she’s always wearing that pathetic, innocent ‘no-makeup makeup’ look trying to compete with me! I hate it! And you told me yourself you didn’t like how it looked, which is why you agreed to let me prank her!” My entire body was trembling uncontrollably. My limbs were going numb, and my airway was beginning to tighten. “And you really thought… she actually wanted to apologize to me?! Liam… you are a psychopathic monster. You don’t even deserve the phrase ‘clean break’!” Gasping for air, I tried to stumble toward the bathroom to wash my face. But after taking a single step, the world violently spun, and everything went black. “ELENA! ELENA, WAKE UP!” When I finally regained consciousness, the sun had already set. The burning, throbbing pain on my cheeks was still incredibly intense. While I was fading in and out in the ER, I vaguely remembered the doctors telling me I had suffered severe chemical burns and required several stitches on my chin and right cheek where the skin had split from the aggressive scrubbing. My shifting on the hospital bed woke Liam, who had been dozing in the chair next to me. “Elena, thank God you’re awake. You terrified me. The doctor said you had a severe anaphylactic shock reaction to an industrial-strength disinfectant.” “She genuinely wanted to apologize to you today. But you know how stubborn and defensive she is. Her actions were definitely out of line, but she honestly didn’t mean to hurt you this badly. Please don’t be too angry with her, okay?” His voice was frantic, tumbling over itself. But in all his desperate words, there wasn’t a single shred of concern about whether I would be permanently scarred, or whether I was in excruciating pain or feeling insecure about my ruined face. All of his energy was focused entirely on exonerating her. I looked at him. I looked at the face of the man I had loved so deeply for six years, and suddenly, he looked like a complete, terrifying stranger. Tears silently spilled over my lashes and slid down my bandaged cheeks. “I’m not angry. I just feel an overwhelming sense of regret. I never, ever should have dated you.” His body stiffened. Just as he opened his mouth to reply, his phone screen lit up on the nightstand. Liam glanced at the caller ID—[The Tyrant]—and instantly swallowed whatever he was going to say. “I need to step out for a second. Get some rest. I’ll be right back.” He practically sprinted out the door. Driven by some dark, masochistic curiosity, I quietly slipped out of bed and followed him. Through the narrow crack of the heavy fire-escape door at the end of the hall. He was sitting on the concrete stairs right next to Chloe. “It’s okay, don’t beat yourself up over it. She’s not going to stay mad. She always forgives us eventually. She always has.” Chloe lightly punched him in the shoulder. “If she can’t even handle this, imagine how nuclear she would go if she found out the only reason you asked her out was because you lost a bet with the guys! And that the only reason you chose April Fools’ Day to propose was because we picked it out as a joke!” In that singular moment, it felt like a flashbang had detonated inside my skull. A deafening, high-pitched ringing drowned out every other sound in the universe. Liam frantically clamped his hand over her mouth, looking around the stairwell in a panic. “SHH! Keep your voice down! That was six years ago! Take that secret to your grave!” My legs completely gave out. It felt as though every single bone in my body had been violently magically extracted. I couldn’t even stand up. The questions that had been haunting me like ghosts for years finally had their answers. Why, when forced to choose, I always lost to Chloe. Why Liam, who claimed to love me so deeply, always enabled and permitted her to abuse me. I had delusionally believed he was just overly loyal to his “found family” of frat brothers. I never, ever imagined that every single thing he had ever given me was a fabricated, toxic lie. Even the moment I thought was the beginning of my salvation… was built entirely on a humiliating, cruel joke. In their eyes, I was never Liam’s beloved girlfriend. I was just a pathetic, entertaining clown they kept around for laughs. In this moment, the last remaining shred of my dignity was completely, utterly annihilated. I pressed both hands forcefully over my mouth to stop myself from screaming. I had to leave. I had to escape this suffocating, artificial nightmare. I called an Uber, grabbed my suitcases from the hotel I had booked the night before, and went straight to Penn Station. I paid an exorbitant fee to change my ticket to the very next Amtrak train heading to the East Coast HQ. Just before I boarded the train, a text from Liam popped up on my phone. [The doctor said you need to be kept under observation. Don’t wander off. Where are you? I’m coming to find you.] Looking at his fake, hypocritical concern, I laughed until tears streamed down my face. I didn’t reply. I permanently blocked his number, and the numbers of every single one of his friends. Liam. I am officially resigning from your sick little April Fools’ game.

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Right before the Christmas holidays, I texted Julian: [What day are you coming to my parents’ house?] Julian took a full four days to reply. [1] Unable to suppress my fury, I took a screenshot of the chat and posted it on Reddit, asking the internet to judge: Is this a boyfriend, or a broken chatbot? The replies were brutal: “Definitely a boyfriend. ChatGPT isn’t this stupid; even AI knows how to ask how your day was.” “That’s harsh, but true.” “Why are you even with this guy? Are you keeping him around just so you don’t have to be single for the holidays?” “Don’t bother telling her, OP is obviously obsessed. She didn’t dump him immediately, she’s posting on Reddit asking for advice. She’s still holding out hope for this robot.” I let out a bitter laugh. The comments weren’t wrong. I was actually still waiting for Julian to send a real reply. [You said you were terrified of marriage, and I waited for you for seven years. This year, you finally said you were ready to meet my parents. What is this silent treatment supposed to mean?] [Are you coming or not? Give me a straight answer!] While waiting for him to reply, I was scrolling through TikTok and stumbled across a viral video. The caption read: [My boss agreed to pretend to be my boyfriend for the holidays to get my parents off my back. Which outfit should he wear?] The video was a slideshow of eight photos. In every single one, the man’s outfit was perfectly color-coordinated to match the girl’s outfit. It was obvious the guy had put a lot of thought into it. The comments were flooded with people shipping them: [OMG, my favorite CEO x Assistant trope is finally hitting the ‘meet the parents’ arc?!] When I swiped to the sixth photo, I froze. The custom cufflinks on the man’s tailored suit… were the exact ones I had custom-designed specifically for Julian. At that exact moment, a notification popped up from Julian. It was another cold, single-character reply: [1]. I stared at that “1” for a long time. It felt utterly ridiculous. Just as ridiculous as I had been for the past seven years, constantly dropping hints that I wanted to get married. I closed his chat thread and opened my blocked contacts list. I unblocked a contact saved as: “Crazy European Stalker.” [Come to my parents’ house on December 27th. Meet the family.] [We’re getting married after the holidays.] He replied instantly: [YES! Booking my flight right now!] Julian, you don’t need to come anymore. You never have to come again. I opened Julian’s chat thread again. That glaring “1” was still the most recent message. What was the point of this? It took me seven years just to force him to agree to meet my parents for the holidays. Was I supposed to spend the next seven years forcing him to marry me? And another seven forcing him to have kids? “Let’s break up,” I typed definitively, and hit send. I put my phone down and started packing. We started dating freshman year of college. We’d been together for ten years, living together for eight. We had accumulated a mountain of stuff. But once I made the absolute decision to leave, packing went faster than any time I had moved before. Throw away the trash. Donate the rest. Soon, the three-bedroom apartment that used to be crammed with our lives felt hollow and empty. I efficiently booked a moving company and had my boxes hauled to a small, one-bedroom condo I had bought a few years ago as an investment property. With that, the physical ties to this relationship were severed. Right before I walked out the door, I took one last look around the apartment we had lived in the longest—the place we had originally planned to renovate into our marital home. A sudden, sharp wave of sorrow washed over my chest. Ten years. Just like that, it was over, ending with barely a whisper. After finishing the move, I rolled my suitcase into the airport terminal. Right then, my phone chimed with a notification tone I had assigned specifically to Julian. Despite everything, a spark of hope uncontrollably flared up, and my thumb tapped the notification faster than my brain could process it. [1] “Ha.” I let out a sharp, neurotic laugh, then immediately permanently blocked his number. The soft, acoustic music playing in the airport coffee shop filtered through the air. I thought about the last ten years. We had sweet moments, and we had brutal fights. Ending things now was probably the only way to honor how serious we used to be about each other. I couldn’t wait until Julian’s little assistant showed up at my door to finally wake up. That would be way too pathetic. While lost in thought, I was mindlessly scrolling through Instagram. A new post popped up on my feed. I tapped it out of habit. It was from Chloe, Julian’s young executive assistant. [AHHHHH! My boss agreed to pretend to be my boyfriend to help me deal with my parents pressuring me to get married! I am the luckiest girl in the world!] [You guys don’t even know, Mr. Vance spent forever picking out outfits just so he could come home with me for the holidays~ Who says guys hate shopping? I am so exhausted!] Attached was a carousel of nine photos showcasing Julian in different outfits. They were casual, yet still radiated that subtle, expensive aura. Hoodies, distressed denim, crisp white sneakers. It was a complete 180 from his usual, overly formal style. Just as I pressed the buttons to take a screenshot, the post vanished. She had deleted it. I let out a self-deprecating laugh, remembering when I first met Julian in college. As the Student Body President, he was already strictly adhering to a wardrobe of button-downs and slacks. I used to beg him to wear matching couple’s outfits with me, but he always refused. “My position in student government doesn’t allow me to wear that kind of flashy, childish clothing. Stop being unreasonable.” Since when were hoodies and jeans considered flashy and childish? I stared at the screenshots of Julian dressed like a frat boy, sharp pangs of pain radiating through my chest. Even though I had already broken up with him, my emotions were still being dragged around by him. The airport PA system announced my flight. I stood up and joined the boarding line. I had been taking this flight home for the holidays alone for ten years. I had been asking him to come home to meet my parents for five years. But Chloe? She had only been interning under Julian for six months. It doesn’t matter anymore, Julian. From now on, you’ll never have to rack your brain trying to invent excuses to reject me again. The plane was incredibly quiet, especially since it was a red-eye flight. Surrounded by hundreds of people, I was suddenly drowning in an overwhelming sense of isolation. I opened up the TikTok account I had accidentally discovered belonging to Chloe. Sure enough, she had posted a new storytime video titled: “When the one who loves you doesn’t need to be asked, he just knows.” “The second my boss heard my parents had set me up on a blind date for the holidays, he panicked! I hadn’t even brought up the idea of finding a fake boyfriend yet, and he volunteered to come home with me to deal with my parents!” “Omg guys, I think I’ve turned into one of those girls who gets a crush on their strict camp counselor, or falls in love with their manager. I’m so obsessed.” “But my boss treats me so incredibly well… What am I supposed to do if I’m catching real feelings?” The comments were a unified wall of encouragement and shipping. “Girl, your boss is built like a model and has the face of a CEO. He’s young, successful, and making the first move. How could you not catch feelings?!” “Verdict: OP is an oblivious, innocent sweetheart. Your boss is practically throwing himself at you, you just need to open your eyes!” “Agreed! I’ve been following OP for six months, checking every day wondering when she’s finally going to get it… When are you going to change your handle from ‘Intern Chloe Grinding Daily’ to ‘Sweet Daily Life with my CEO Hubby’?” “OP, confess your feelings right now! You guys are obviously just one step away from making it official!” … We had been together for ten years. How could I not have noticed Julian drifting away? I was just… so tired. Julian was strongly opposed to marriage. I found this out the year we graduated college. I thought about it for a week, and ultimately decided to break up with him. “I’m an only child. If I don’t get married, my parents, my grandparents—my entire family—would be absolutely devastated.” Julian’s face had gone ghostly white. “Do you really not care about me at all?” “What good does caring do?!” I had been furious—angry that he had hidden his stance against marriage. “I can’t just be your girlfriend for the rest of my life!” Julian scrambled for excuses. “Your life belongs to you. You shouldn’t have to carry the burden of your parents’ or your family’s expectations.” I held up a hand to stop him. “Who said this was just their expectation? We used to talk about having one kid and giving them all our love.” “This is what I want. I want a family. I love kids.” I glared at him coldly. “So, all those times you agreed with me, were you just talking out of your ass?” Julian had nothing to say. After that argument, we unofficially broke up. But a month later, he showed up at my corporate housing. Looking gaunt and pale, he held out a bouquet of flowers. “Anna, I don’t want to lose you.” He spoke with intense gravity. “Can you just give me some time? At least right now, I am absolutely not ready to step into a marriage.” My heart softened. He was, after all, my first love. “I never said we had to get married right this second.” “Are you sure about this?” I asked him. “Don’t change your views on marriage or your life plans just for someone else.” Julian’s deep, expressive eyes welled up. “Compared to getting married, I’m much more terrified of losing you.” He paused. “Anna, wait for me.” “I will get over this fear.” And so I waited. For seven years. I didn’t want to wait anymore. After walking out of the airport and grabbing my suitcase, I was about to call an Uber. To my surprise, the second I stepped out of the sliding doors, I got a call from my dad. “Sweetie, did you land?” “I’m parked by the bus stop near Exit 1. Walk toward this side when you get out.” “Okay, got it.” I was a little shocked. Aside from my first two years of college, my dad had never come to pick me up from the airport. “I just walked out, I’m heading your way.” I rolled my suitcase down the sidewalk and spotted my parents leaning against their SUV from a mile away, scanning the crowd. When they saw me, they rushed over. My dad grabbed my bag to put it in the trunk, while my mom kept stretching her neck, looking behind me. Seeing how eager they were, I was suddenly very glad I had called in a ringer. “Dad, Mom—” I opened the back door. “My boyfriend isn’t coming until the 27th. Stop looking.” “Oh, right, right, right—” My mom slapped her thigh. “Today’s only Christmas Eve. We gotta let the boy spend Christmas with his own family first.” My dad slapped the steering wheel. “That Julian kid is thirty now. Glad he finally realized he needs to step up.” I pursed my lips, cutting off their excited chatter about their future son-in-law Julian. “I broke up with Julian.” “I’m dating someone new. His name is Arthur.” “Make sure you get the name right.” My dad, completely ignoring the fact that he was currently driving, whipped his head around to stare at me. “But when you called last week, you said Julian was away on a business trip—” “Watch the road!” My mom expertly shoved his head back toward the windshield. “It’s not you getting a new boyfriend, why are you panicking? Our daughter said he’s coming on the 27th, so we’ll meet him on the 27th! You’re driving like a maniac, people are going to think you’ve been chugging eggnog…” I laid back against the rear seats, silently listening to my mom scold my dad. She was right. Just last week on the phone, I had told them Julian was coming home with me this year. It was a massive sudden change for them. I expected them to interrogate me, but they just bickered with each other and completely skipped over the topic. Tears blurred my vision, because I felt overwhelmingly, unconditionally loved. I dozed off in the car. When we pulled into the driveway, I was swarmed by relatives before I even stepped out of the vehicle. My grandmother on my dad’s side had five kids; my grandmother on my mom’s side had six. Both of my parents were the youngest, most spoiled children in their respective massive families. Consequently, my marital status had always been a high-priority issue for both sides of the family tree. My oldest cousin was bouncing his new grandson. “This year, I specifically brought the baby over so you and your man could get some good luck! Once you’re married, hurry up and have a kid so my aunt can finally relax.” “We will, we will. Very soon.” My two older female cousins stuck their heads into the car, looking around. “This new boyfriend of yours doesn’t seem to know the rules. How can he drag his feet like this?” They clicked their tongues in disapproval. “If he had any sense, he would have shown up today with gifts in hand. You’re treating him like a prince.” “Yeah, seriously. He’s really lacking etiquette.” My aunts and uncles crowded closer. “Where’s the new boyfriend? He didn’t come today?” “Not today. He’s coming on the 27th.” … My youngest aunt finally pulled me out of the mob. “Give the guy a break! Christmas Day and Boxing Day are for his own family! Anna already said he’s coming on the 27th. Why are you guys so impatient? Let the poor girl rest first.” Even in the freezing winter air, I was sweating from the interrogation. Crap. This Arthur guy, this European aristocrat… does he have any idea how to handle the sheer force of an American extended family? The 25th and 26th were a blur of visiting relatives’ houses. When I finally collapsed onto my bed to rest, my phone rang with an unknown number. I answered, exhausted. “Hello?” “It’s me.” It was Julian. Before I could even process it, his aggrieved voice came through the speaker. “You blocked me.” “Yeah,” I replied calmly. “We broke up. Am I supposed to keep you unblocked so I can like your Instagram posts?” “I admit I was wrong! But Anna, can you please just give me a little more time… I’m still not ready.” “You’ve done a lot of wrong things. Which one are you talking about?” I asked coldly. “You promised me you would come home with me for the holidays. If you couldn’t do it, why did you agree? And even if you changed your mind at the last minute, why didn’t you just communicate that to me?” “Ever since you agreed to come home, you either left my messages on read or ignored them completely. Go search our chat history and see how many times you just replied with ‘1’ this past year.” “You said you were terrified of marriage, that you didn’t want to meet my parents. I gave you time to prepare. Seven years! A full seven years.” I took a breath. “I was understanding and respectful of your boundaries. And you turned around and went to your assistant’s hometown with her for the holidays.” There was a loud crash over the phone, followed by Julian’s sharp intake of breath. “Ah!” “How did you know… no, wait, let me explain!” “I just came here to help Chloe avoid her parents trying to force her into an arranged marriage. She’s only 21, she shouldn’t have to…” I was sick of hearing it. I cut him off sharply. “I don’t want to hear it!” “We are already broken up. I do not want to hear your excuses!” Julian was both anxious and angry. “I admit that breaking my promise to you was my fault, but can you at least give me a chance to explain? We agreed that if we had issues, we’d talk them out. We never went to bed angry.” He was still avoiding the subject of Chloe entirely. I didn’t want to waste my precious downtime on him anymore. “There’s nothing left to explain. Julian, you deceived me about your stance on marriage, you broke your promises, you deflected blame, and you took absolutely zero accountability.” “I am unilaterally informing you: we are broken up. That’s it.” I finished speaking, immediately hung up, and blocked the number. When it came to Julian, I knew in my soul that I owed him absolutely nothing. My parents were childhood sweethearts who married for love. Their relationship was beautiful and full of mutual grace. I always believed that in a relationship, you need respect, grace, and mutual understanding. I gave Julian seven years. That was more than enough. I shifted to get comfortable and go back to sleep. A notification popped up on WhatsApp. It was Chloe, complaining that I was being too heartless. [Ms. Anna, you’ve completely misunderstood Mr. Vance.] [He really only came back with me to help me out. My parents are super traditional and are trying to force me to get married before I even graduate college.] [You’re a woman too, you should be able to understand what I’m going through.] [Mr. Vance bought a red-eye plane ticket just so he could explain things to you in person. He hasn’t slept properly in days, and he has to fly out again tonight.] [Ms. Anna, you’re his girlfriend. Don’t you feel bad for him at all?] [I am so grateful to Mr. Vance. He’s taught me so much, and I genuinely want you two to be happy together.] I forwarded her the link to her own TikTok video and added a single question: [Do Intern Chloe’s followers know she’s knowingly sleeping with her boss while he has a girlfriend of ten years?] Chloe went completely silent. She just frantically started deleting her TikTok videos. I put my phone down, deeply satisfied, and slept a dreamless sleep. The next day, I didn’t drag myself out of bed until right before lunch. Just as I opened my bedroom door, I heard a massive commotion coming from the living room. Curious, I washed my face and headed downstairs. Halfway down, I saw my entire extended family crowded around a tall, blonde man in a trench coat, treating him like royalty. “… Arthur?” I blurted his name out in shock. Across the room, the man flamboyantly swept his long hair back, turned around, and walked toward me. My relatives parted like the Red Sea, creating a clear path for him. Arthur stopped in front of me. Standing three steps up, I was a head taller than him. He bowed deeply in an exaggerated, aristocratic greeting. “At your service.” “My leading lady has finally awakened.” He took off his sunglasses, his trench coat flaring out dramatically. “Five years have passed, My Miss Ophelia.” “AHHHHH! He is so handsome! Is he like, a prince from another country?!” “Blonde hair! Six-foot-four! A Maybach! Auntie Anna really scored!” My nieces and nephews were clutching their chests and screaming. My cousin’s husband scratched his head. “Well, I’ll be damned. This guy is ridiculously good-looking.” My youngest aunt smiled maternally. “He’s very handsome. He’s definitely worthy of our Anna.” My dad grabbed Arthur’s arm. “Come on, let’s finish our game of chess. For a foreigner, you’re pretty damn good at this!” My mom rushed up the stairs and practically dragged me back into my room. “Good lord! Why did you come out here in your pajamas?! Hurry up, put on some makeup and change your clothes!” She started tearing through my closet. “You wear a trench coat too!” “You’re both tall, you both have great skin. The kids you have are going to be gorgeous! Hey, what do they call kids from different races? Mixed-race, right? Will they be American or European?” “This new boyfriend of yours has purple eyes! That’s so exotic! If it weren’t for him, I would have thought the world only had brown and blue eyes. If your kids inherit his eyes, that would be amazing. What’s the saying? ‘Rare things are precious’!” She was clearly lost in her own fantasy world. I didn’t interrupt her. My parents had deflected the family’s pressure to get married for five or six years, and they had never once pressured me themselves. I threw on a trench coat, pulled on some knee-high boots, and did some light makeup. My mom finally breathed a sigh of relief. “Take him around and introduce him to everyone. Don’t go wandering off, lunch is almost ready.” I agreed to everything and followed her downstairs. Arthur was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, good-naturedly chatting with the younger generation of my family. He really didn’t look like the psychotic maniac who, after being rejected, had tried to hold me hostage. Hearing us, he turned and held out a hand to help me down the last step. “Anna, I waited for you for a very long time.” I swatted his hand away. “Drop the theatrical act.” He didn’t get mad. He just smiled happily and squeezed in right next to me. “Your relatives are fascinating. They all really like me.” I grabbed his hand. “That’s because you’re my boyfriend.” “Follow me. I’m going to introduce you to everyone. Just repeat whatever I call them.” “It’s fine if you don’t remember their names. Just make a good impression.” Arthur looked down at our joined hands, absolutely thrilled, and agreed repeatedly. “Darling, whatever you say.” I shot him a sideways glance. What a two-faced chameleon. In reality, my nieces weren’t completely wrong. Arthur actually was a prince. More accurately, he was now a Duke. The first time I met him was during a road trip to a historic town. He was hitchhiking on the side of the road, looking like a total mess, and I pulled over. The second time was at a corporate trade negotiation. I was just a junior associate shadowing my manager to learn the ropes, and he was the lead executive for the opposing European conglomerate. Back then, I thought he was a stern, unsmiling, strictly-business type of guy. The third time, I was the lead negotiator. Due to business requirements, we started interacting a lot more. Then, we exchanged social media handles and became friends. And then… he suddenly confessed his love for me. When I rejected him, he actually had me kidnapped and taken to some undisclosed mansion. I had been furious. “This is how you show you like someone?! By violating my consent and holding me against my will?!” “We just need to spend more time together. You’ll fall in love with me eventually,” he stared at me, dangerously stubborn. “Also, I would never physically harm you.” I was rendered speechless by his bizarre, archaic views on romance. “I don’t care where you learned how to treat women, but let me make one thing crystal clear, Arthur.” “Any real relationship has to be built on free will. Affection that isn’t freely given is just submission.” “That kind of connection will evaporate the second it’s tested. Do you really want that kind of fake love?” Honestly, I hadn’t held out much hope that reasoning with him would work. After all, psychopaths aren’t exactly known for logic. To my absolute shock, after listening to me, he looked thoughtful for a moment… and then just let me go. After unlocking the ankle monitor he had put on me, he even hosted a lavish dinner for me. Before putting me in a car to send me home, he announced that he was going to pursue me properly. He pursued me relentlessly and flamboyantly for an entire year. I eventually blocked him on every single platform. Later, he told me he had to return to Europe to attend the Queen’s funeral and, coincidentally, inherit a title. That was when I found out he was literal aristocracy. On the day he left, he said, “Ophelia, you have no idea how much of a miracle your presence in my life has been.” “I beg of you, if you ever decide to get married… please consider me.” I had to admit, while his methods were deeply unhinged, he definitely made a lasting impression. Which was why, when I needed someone to swoop in and play the role of the fiancé, he was the very first person who came to mind. I led him from the living room to the kitchen, from the garden to my dad’s study. By the end of the tour, the pockets of his trench coat were stuffed with red envelopes filled with cash—traditional Chinese holiday gifts from my relatives. Halfway through the tour, when his pockets were literally overflowing, I had to find a gift bag for him to carry the rest of the envelopes. Once the tour was over and we were back in my room, Arthur started opening the red envelopes, looking absolutely ecstatic. “I love Chinese traditions. Especially the red envelopes.” I casually replied, “Well, when you get married, you’ll have to give out a lot of red envelopes yourself.” Arthur looked up at me, suddenly deadly serious. “So, when are we getting married?” I froze. “Uh,” I shifted uncomfortably under his expectant gaze. Usually, I was the one asking that question. “Whenever it’s convenient for you, I guess…” He stopped counting the cash, stood up, and pressed me. “I read that traditional Chinese weddings require a matchmaker and formal betrothal gifts! Tell me exactly what I need to do, Ophelia. I want to marry you as soon as possible.” I laughed. “It’s not that traditional anymore!” “Ophelia, marriage is incredibly sacred. I need you to take this seriously!” Being stared down by those deep purple eyes was making me a little nervous. “Okay, I…” “Anna! Arthur! Come downstairs, it’s time to eat!” My mom’s shout from downstairs interrupted us. We exchanged a look. He sighed and rubbed his temples. “Food first, everything else later.” I grabbed his hand and ran downstairs. At the dinner table, Arthur ate while seriously and politely answering all my relatives’ questions. He was handling the interrogation perfectly. Suddenly, he turned to my mom. “Mrs. Evans.” “What exactly do I need to do to marry in America?” “Anna is bullying me. She won’t tell me.” “Mrs. Evans, I want to marry Anna very badly. I am willing to… become a stay-at-home husband. Please, let me be a stay-at-home husband.” The entire table went dead silent. My mom stared at Arthur, her jaw hanging open. “Huh? Oh… wow, I… uh…” She shot me a frantic look. I actually managed to translate it instantly: [What does this mean?! You don’t want to marry him?! This kid is offering to be a stay-at-home husband! Opportunities like this don’t just fall out of the sky! What are you thinking?! Give me an answer!] I sighed helplessly. Just as I opened my mouth to speak, my uncle strolled into the dining room, hands behind his back. “Oh! You guys are eating.” He pointed out the front door. “There’s a young guy out there claiming to be Anna’s boyfriend. I brought him inside.” “Anna,” he coughed awkwardly. “I know you’re a beautiful girl, but we have to have some morals here. You can’t be dating two guys at the same time! You’re treating these boys like fish in a pond!” Holy crap. Did Julian actually show up?! I shot up from my chair and practically sprinted toward the front door. Arthur immediately abandoned his food and followed right behind me. It really was him. The second I saw Julian, I wanted to grab a shovel and bury him in the septic tank! “What are you doing here?” I hissed, keeping my voice low. Arthur shadowed me closely, standing right at my shoulder. Julian didn’t answer me. He glared at Arthur and demanded, “Who is he?” Arthur grabbed my hand, standing silently and protectively behind me. The residual anger I had been harboring instantly vanished—I hadn’t even cheated on him, and I certainly hadn’t done anything to feel guilty about. What was I afraid of?! “He’s my boyfriend,” I stated calmly. “He’s here to meet my parents.” “Julian, all the promises you made? Someone else is here to fulfill them. You should be thanking him.” Arthur proudly puffed out his chest. Julian’s face twisted in agony. “What about me?” “Didn’t we break up?” “I already explained! Chloe was being forced into an arranged marriage—” “You don’t need to explain anything to me. The breakup is a done deal.” I was so sick of his cyclical, pathetic excuses. “If you had an issue with the breakup, you should have said something the day it happened. Not five days later.” I stared him down. “Do you remember what you replied?” Julian’s lips trembled, but he couldn’t speak. I answered for him. “1.” “You replied with a ‘1’.” “That means ‘Understood. Agreed,’” my niece, who was eavesdropping, helpfully explained to the older relatives standing nearby. My face instantly burned bright red. I turned around and realized that the wall next to the front gate was lined with the heads of my neighbors, all straining to listen in on the drama.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “400791”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Chase Sterling and I were purely platonic friends for twenty-six years. We were inseparable, but he was a relentless player who couldn’t stand being alone. So, whenever he got a new girlfriend, I would proactively distance myself and cut contact. On my twenty-seventh birthday, Chase—likely annoyed by his family constantly pressuring him to settle down—showed up at my front door bright and early. “Quinn, why don’t we just make do with each other?” I was just about to curse him out when he added, “I’m serious.” For the first time ever, Chase crossed the boundary and held his hand out to me. I looked at him and thought about it for a few seconds. “Chase, if we cross this line and become a couple, we can never be friends again if we break up.” He gave me his signature, cocky grin. “We’re not going to break up. I couldn’t bear to lose you.” And so, I took his hand. That “making do” lasted for three years. At our engagement party, Chase and his frat brother, Tyler, sneaked out to the balcony for a smoke. “Chase, I know you originally asked Quinn to be your cover because you were terrified your grandfather would go after Lily. But looking at her today… I think Quinn is actually genuinely in love with you.” “You didn’t… forget to tell her this was all just for show, did you?” The hazy cigarette smoke obscured Chase’s face. His voice was cold and indifferent. “I was in a rush that day. I forgot.” My footsteps came to a dead halt right around the corner. In my hand, I was holding the cold medicine I had just bought for him. Tyler sounded horrified. His voice spiked as he called him a bastard, then leaned in closer to ask: “So what the hell is the situation with you and Quinn now? Are you actually marrying her or not?” “Because just yesterday, right before your engagement, I saw Lily post on her private story. You were at her apartment in the middle of the night, wearing nothing but a bathrobe, cooking her late-night snacks.” Chase let out a low chuckle. “Lily is my real girlfriend, obviously.” “As for Quinn? She’s just a strategic business merger. What’s the difference between a real marriage and a fake one?” “I knew she liked me a long time ago. Giving her a picture-perfect marriage and the title of my wife… I’d say I’m treating her pretty damn well.” The glass of water in my hand grew so hot it burned my palm. I lowered my head, feeling incredibly pathetic. I realized the cold medicine tablets I was holding had already started melting into my sweaty skin. But what burned hotter was my face. It was the absolute, crushing humiliation of having my secret, years-long crush exposed, only to be mocked and trampled on. “You know what? Quinn is actually pretty clueless. I’ve been around the block enough times to know that nobody’s breathing hitches and refuses to make eye contact when they hold hands with a purely ‘business’ partner.” “She always acts so cool and indifferent, but she’s actually incredibly patient. She lets me get away with everything.” Chase coughed softly, a hint of smug bragging in his voice. “Two days before the engagement, I lied and told her I had an emergency business trip. She didn’t suspect a thing. She even packed my suitcase for me.” “Last night, Lily and I got a little crazy by the window. When I got home at 3 AM, my head was pounding, but all my meds were expired. Quinn literally threw a winter coat over her pajamas and ran out into the freezing cold to buy me medicine. Then she brewed me ginger tea and coaxed me to sleep.” “She woke up every half hour to feel my forehead, terrified I was running a fever.” “I don’t even think she realizes how obsessed with me she is.” Tyler sucked in a sharp breath. “Chase, she’s treated you like gold for years. I refuse to believe you haven’t caught even a tiny bit of feelings for her?” I stood outside the door. I felt like the biggest joke in the world. My eyes burned, and the tears threatened to spill. But I didn’t leave. I wanted to hear Chase’s answer. Without a single second of hesitation, Chase replied with dripping sarcasm. “What kind of stupid question is that? Of course I don’t.” “I’ve known Quinn for nearly thirty years. If we were going to happen, it would have happened a long time ago. I wouldn’t have waited until I was twenty-seven.” “My type has always been the sweet, innocent, soft girls. Quinn is a tough, cold badass. She completely misses every single box on my checklist.” “Love is something that hits you at first sight. I don’t believe in ‘growing to love someone over time.’ Even if you gave me another thirty years, I would never fall for her.” He took a deep drag of his cigarette, sounding completely self-righteous. “But Quinn is my best friend for life, and soon she’ll be my family. Even if I don’t love her, I’ll definitely make sure she’s taken care of.” “I want her, and I want Lily.” My heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vise. But I couldn’t stop myself from smiling a bitter, hollow smile. What did Chase see me as? A convenient object he could just pick up and mold to his liking? Pick it up when he needed it, toss it aside when he didn’t. Just how pathetic and low did he think I was, to assume that marrying me was some kind of generous charity? Out on the balcony, Tyler sighed and patted Chase’s shoulder. “Let’s go back inside, man. The party is starting.” “So tonight, the plan is to introduce Lily as my cousin, right?” I turned my back and quickly hurried down the stairs. I sprinted into a vacant bathroom and dry-heaved over the sink. The tears fell faster than I could wipe them away, completely ruining my carefully done makeup. The emotions I had harbored for years suddenly felt like a putrid, suffocating swamp, pulling me under and making me physically sick. My phone buzzed constantly with group chat notifications. [It’s the engagement party! Where are our main characters?] [Chase and I are walking in now. My cousin is coming tonight too.] [Since when do you have a cousin, Tyler? Where’s Quinn? She’s been MIA.] I found an empty guest room. I washed my face clean and reapplied a light, sharp layer of makeup. For years, whenever Chase dated someone new, I proactively cut contact. Tonight, I wanted to see exactly what kind of girl had stolen his heart. As for him and me? I used a cotton swab to meticulously wipe away a stray tear from the corner of my eye, making sure my foundation was flawless. Chase probably thought I was joking when I told him on day one: If we break up, we don’t stay friends. But I, Quinn, have never been desperate for friends. And I absolutely refuse to spend another second of my life standing beside someone who doesn’t love me. “Baby, what took you so long?” The second I sat down in the VIP room, Chase leaned in, whining and acting cute. “I haven’t taken my meds tonight, and my cough is getting worse.” He blinked his puppy-dog eyes and nuzzled his face into my shoulder. There wasn’t a single trace of the cold, calculating bastard from the balcony. His friends around us started hooting and hollering. “Get a room! Leave the PDA at the door!” “You two are sickeningly sweet! If you weren’t so perfect for each other, I would have kicked you out of the group chat years ago!” “This is what you call a fairy-tale ending! Childhood sweethearts to soulmates! Chase played around for his whole life, but now he’s utterly whipped by our girl Quinn. It actually makes me believe in love.” The sticky, gross residue from the melting medicine tablets was still on my palm. I suppressed my nausea and offered a faint, detached smile. I leaned forward smoothly to grab a sparkling water from the table, expertly dodging Chase’s touch. “Where’s Tyler?” Chase had been about to lean in again, but hearing me ask about Tyler made him freeze. “He went to pick up his little sister! Oh, speak of the devil.” Tyler walked in, followed by a slender, fragile-looking girl in a white sundress. They sat down a few feet away. “You lucky bastard, Tyler. Your sister is gorgeous. You gonna introduce her to the single guys here?” one of the guys joked. Tyler shot an awkward, nervous glance at Chase and replied, “This is my sister, Lily.” “She’s a little shy and not used to this kind of scene, so go easy on her.” Amidst the roaring laughter, I looked at Lily. Her large, doe-like eyes were already locked tearfully onto Chase. The man who had just been trying to nuzzle into my shoulder quietly put some distance between us, leaning back against the armrest. That dull, throbbing pain flared up in my chest again. No matter how hard I tried to suppress it, the grief and fury were overwhelming. Lily hadn’t learned how to hide her feelings. Or maybe, because she was the one who was truly loved, she felt entitled to be bold. Her gaze lingered on Chase with reckless, unapologetic longing. My best friend, Zoe, instantly noticed I was unhappy. She didn’t hesitate. She smiled sharply and said, “Little girl, you shouldn’t be staring at that one. He’s getting married.” Lily’s face instantly flushed crimson. She quickly averted her eyes, forcing an embarrassed, fragile smile. “I’m sorry. I already have a boyfriend.” Chase still had a smile on his face, but his tone carried a sharp, defensive edge. “Zoe, you like to mess around, but not every sweet, innocent girl is like you.” Zoe’s temper flared instantly. She stood up, ready to smack him. I grabbed her arm, holding her back, and smiled directly at Chase. “You talk like you’re some saint. At least Zoe has never two-timed anyone.” Chase froze. He instinctively avoided my gaze. He forced a nervous chuckle to cover his panic. “I haven’t either, baby. Why are you suddenly getting mad at me?” Seeing my visibly icy expression, Chase grabbed a shot of liquor and downed it. “My bad, I phrased that wrong. I apologize to Zoe. Let’s drop it.” As everyone started laughing and changing the subject, I watched Lily look at Chase with profound, aching heartbreak. It was as if I was some tyrannical villain, ruthlessly torturing the two star-crossed lovers. “Alright, alright, let’s play a game! Camera Roll Roulette, how about it?” Tyler jumped in to smooth things over. “If you have anything sketchy on your phone, hide it now! Don’t traumatize us.” “I’ll pick the first date: May 17, 2023!” Everyone pulled out their phones. The rule was simple: if the bottle landed on you, you had to cast your camera roll from that exact date to the big screen for everyone to see. The bottle spun and landed pointing directly at me. I cast my phone screen to the TV. Ocean waves. A sandy beach. A candlelight dinner. And a screenshot of an UberEats delivery confirmation. “That was the year you guys went to the beach for your birthday, right?!” Zoe playfully shoved my shoulder, lowering her voice. “I even asked you if after twenty-eight years of being a saint, tasting a man for the first time was mind-blowing!” I smiled at Zoe. Those memories used to be so beautiful, but looking at them now, they only tasted like ash. One of the guys had sharp eyes and pointed at the screen. “Wait, you guys ordered delivery at 2:00 AM?” “What kind of delivery, Chase?! Was it that kind of delivery?!” The whole room erupted into wolf-whistles and laughter. But Chase, who usually loved dirty jokes, wasn’t smiling. He was staring at Lily, whose face had gone completely pale. “No, it was just some cold medicine. Don’t be gross.” A sudden, vicious wave of malice surged from my chest. “We ordered that medicine because you hurt me, didn’t we?” I smiled sweetly, willing to rip my own scars open just to make them sick to their stomachs. “You were entirely too rough. I have no idea why you were so frantic. That dress was incredibly expensive, and I only got to wear it once.” “Chase, you acted like you had never slept with a woman before. Your technique was terrible.” “Is it because the innocent little girls you usually like never let you touch them?” Amidst the roaring, scandalous cheers of the crowd… I watched Lily lower her head and wipe away tears. I watched Chase’s face twist in displeased, suffocating panic. Even though I had gotten the twisted satisfaction of laughing out loud… Why did my chest feel so painfully tight? Why did my nose sting? “Next!” Tyler wiped the sweat from his forehead and spun the bottle again. It pointed straight at Lily. She forced a fragile, trembling smile. “There’s nothing interesting on my camera roll.” Zoe looked at me, then at Lily, her sharp intuition immediately picking up on the vibe. She frowned. “Little girl, if you can’t handle the game, don’t sit at the table.” Chase frowned deeply. Before he could open his mouth to defend her, I grabbed his hand. I leaned in close to his visibly angry face. From the side angle, it probably looked like we were kissing. “Puppy, I’m a little hungry. Can you go order me some food?” Chase paused for a few seconds, but eventually stood up and walked over to the server by the door to grab an iPad. “I can handle it.” I knew Lily had watched our intimate interaction. Her voice was laced with grinding teeth. She glared at me, her eyes brimming with tears. It was the first time she had looked me dead in the eye all night, and her gaze was filled with reckless, undisguised hatred. Her phone screen was cast to the big screen. The very first image was a text message screenshot. One of the nosy guys in the group read it out loud. “‘Did you sleep with her? You swore to me it was just a strategic business merger! You promised you wouldn’t touch her!’” “‘But I was only thinking of you the entire time, my Lily.’” “‘I want fries, Quinn!’” The guy’s voice reading my food order perfectly overlapped with the last two words of that text message screenshot. The entire VIP room plunged into a suffocating, dead silence. I finished ordering and handed the iPad back to the server. I placed my violently trembling hands under the table and smiled. “What a coincidence.” “But listening to that… it sounds an awful lot like Ms. Lily is a homewrecker, doesn’t it?” “QUINN!” Chase snapped, shouting my name. Meeting my perfectly calm, dead eyes, he forced an ugly, strained smile. “Quinn. Don’t speak to a young girl like that.” Before I could even reply, Lily suddenly raised her voice. “I am NOT a homewrecker.” She stared directly at Chase, her face full of stubborn defiance. “My boyfriend and I are each other’s first loves. We were each other’s first everything. The only reason we’re separated is because his family is too stubborn and refused to let us be together!” “His relationship with his fiancée is just an open, arranged business merger. She had a desperate, pathetic crush on him, and his parents forced them together!” The young girl recklessly unleashed her pent-up emotions, swiping through the photos on her screen. “The day before May 17th, we celebrated his birthday together.” “His flight was at 11:00 PM, but he stayed with me until 9:00 PM before he finally rushed to the airport. He almost missed his flight.” “Before he left, he bought me flowers. We ate cake together, and we made love for hours.” “This is the birthday present he gave me. I just glanced at it on his phone, and he bought it for me instantly.” It was a photo of a breathtaking, dazzling sapphire ring. “He told me that in this lifetime, I am the only woman he will ever buy a ring for.” I was stunned. I had been at that exact auction. I had wanted that sapphire ring too, but some anonymous buyer had outbid everyone in the room with a blank check. Chase had coaxed me afterward. He promised he would buy me an even more beautiful one. But we were literally engaged now. I rubbed my bare, empty fingers. It suddenly hit me. Chase had never, ever bought me a ring. Lily swiped back to the screenshots from the 17th. As the images flew by, the truth hit me like a freight train. Even though he was physically next to me on that beach, Chase had been texting and coaxing her from morning until night. The beautiful scenery we saw? She got photos of all of it. The gorgeous travel souvenirs I looked at? Chase noted them in his app and had them shipped directly to her. And then, there was a photo of a cake. In the shadowy background of the picture, I could clearly see my own dress and the lower half of my chin. I saw myself, hands clasped together, eyes closed, earnestly wishing that I could stay with the man I loved forever. While he was sitting right next to me, texting Lily: “This cake is amazing. I’ll buy you one next time so you can taste it.” It was absolutely, sickeningly repulsive. I grabbed Zoe’s leg under the table. From the exact second that cake photo appeared on the screen… She had silently grabbed an empty glass liquor bottle. “Quinn, that’s… that’s…!” “Don’t rush it,” I smiled at Zoe. Her eyes were shimmering with furious tears. She muttered a few muffled curses about ‘idiots’ and ‘bitches.’ The atmosphere in the VIP room was so tense it was hard to breathe. “Is Ms. Lily finished? Then let’s move to the next round.” I calmly spun the bottle on the table. “I want to select April 2, 2025.” “Who’s playing?” For the first time all night, Chase completely lost his composure. He suddenly threw his arm around my shoulders. “Baby, my head is killing me.” “I just remembered I’m on antibiotics. I can’t be drinking tonight.” “Let’s go to the hospital, okay?” I methodically peeled his fingers off my shoulder one by one, and smiled. “No.” I was the first to cast my phone to the screen. The image was the stark, blinding white walls of a hospital room. It was a photo of the post-op care instructions for a miscarriage. It was the doctor’s warnings saved in my notes app. It was a screenshot of texts I sent to my mom. [The doctor said I might never be able to have children again.] [Mom, they still haven’t found the driver who caused the crash.] [Let’s postpone the courthouse wedding for now.] April 2, 2025, was exactly five days after the accident. On the day Chase and I were driving to the courthouse to officially sign our marriage license. A woman had suddenly sprinted directly into the middle of the road. There was enough distance to brake safely. Chase was an experienced driver; he even knew how to race cars. But he panicked. He panicked so completely that he violently yanked the steering wheel. The entire passenger side of the car—my side—was smashed brutally into the steel guardrail. The baby that had just barely developed a heartbeat was gone. I was critically injured and spent three days in the ICU. When I woke up, I saw Chase kneeling by my hospital bed. He had lost so much weight. He swore to me that he didn’t care if we never had kids, but in this lifetime, no matter what happened, he was going to stay by my side. “Let’s not look at this, Quinn.” Chase gripped my hand desperately, his eyes unable to hide his sheer terror. “I really don’t feel well. Let’s just leave, please.” Lily hesitated, about to disconnect her phone, but Zoe lunged across the table and snatched it out of her hand. With vicious speed, she swiped straight to that exact date. It was a mirror selfie of Lily wearing cheap, novelty lingerie. Followed by a shaky video, the camera pointed at a messy, dirty floor. Amidst the sounds of chaotic, heavy breathing… I heard Lily crying. “You said you hated me! You said you never wanted to see me again for the rest of your life! Why did you come back?!” She was kissed into silence. “I want to fucking kill you!” The man ground his teeth, his voice hoarse as he tried to soothe her. “Lily, that was my baby. Do you know she might never be able to get pregnant again?” “I can give you a baby!” Lily’s voice sounded so incredibly wronged and pitiful. “If you really want to make it up to her, just take our baby and give it to her to raise!” A heavy sigh echoed from Chase on the video. “I love you so much… how could I ever bear to let you lose your child?” “Just consider it… a debt she and I owe you.” I finished watching the grotesque, humiliating spectacle. I took the last sip of my drink, and set the glass down. It felt as if I was finally setting down thirty years of tangled, miserable history. “Chase, we’re done. Let’s break up.” The exact second the words left my mouth, Zoe smashed Lily’s phone against the wall and hurled the heavy glass liquor bottle directly at Chase’s head. “CHASE STERLING, FUCK YOU!” Lily threw herself over Chase to protect him. Tyler grabbed Zoe’s arms, narrowly avoiding getting his face clawed off by her manicured nails. But Chase just stared at me nervously. His eyes flickered with emotions I couldn’t understand, and frankly, had zero desire to decipher. I turned around and took long, purposeful strides out of the VIP room. My driver was already waiting downstairs. We sped all the way back to the apartment Chase and I shared. I pulled out my suitcases and rapidly packed up all my belongings. Even though we had lived together for two years, I was shocked to find that my entire life fit perfectly into just two suitcases. The driver loaded the bags into the trunk and drove me back to my parents’ estate. Everything had been such a chaotic blur. It wasn’t until I was lying in my childhood bed, staring out at the unfamiliar night skyline, that my heart finally slowed down. And then, the realization hit me. Chase and I were actually broken up. The dull, heavy pain I had been suppressing in my chest completely exploded in the silence of the empty room. I sobbed until my lungs burned. It felt like someone had literally carved a piece of flesh out of my body. Even if you know the flesh is necrotic and rotting, cutting it out still hurts like absolute hell. I don’t remember what time I finally cried myself to sleep. When I woke up, my eyes were so swollen they ached. I grabbed my phone. Chase had called me four times. And sent a barrage of texts. [Quinn, can we please just sit down and talk?] [After all these years, even if we can’t be together, are we really not going to be friends anymore?] [Quinn, please don’t do this.] The timestamp on his most recent message… Was right around the time my driver and I had pulled out of the underground parking garage at his building. So I hadn’t imagined it. That really was Chase sprinting desperately toward the elevator banks as my car drove away. I hugged my blanket tight and took two deep breaths. I raised my hand and permanently deleted Chase’s contact info. Break up. Two simple words. When I said them, I was absolutely resolute. I just didn’t expect the withdrawal period to be this agonizing. The most complicated part of all this was our engagement. Our families had deeply intertwined business interests, and we had just launched a massive joint venture. A messy, public fallout would be catastrophic for both sides. My mother saw the guilt on my face after I explained everything Chase had done over the years. Her tears fell first, her heart breaking for me. “Don’t worry about the Sterling family. Your father’s lawyers and I will handle everything.” “You just focus on resting and healing.” I kept my phone turned off for several days until my emotions finally began to stabilize, and then I slowly started checking my messages again. I heard through the grapevine that Chase had shown up at my family’s estate multiple times, but the security guards wouldn’t even let him through the front gates. “Your mom gave the security team a photo of Chase, and the license plates of every single car his family owns, and put them all on a permanent blacklist,” Zoe laughed, trying to cheer me up. “And he caught the family wrath.” “His grandfather beat him so badly he snapped a leather belt on him, and now he’s under house arrest.” “Serves him right!” Then, she scratched her head, looking a little awkward. “But his older brother… the CEO, Pierce Sterling… he asked me for your contact info. He wants to meet with you.” “At first, I told him to go to hell along with his brother.” “But then he told me some things, and I decided to pass the message along.” “Do you want to see him, Quinn?” Chase’s older brother? I searched my memory for any impression of him. He was the son of Mr. Sterling and his first wife. He had a quarter European blood and looked like he was sculpted out of marble. In my memory, he had always lived abroad. He was only three years older than our group of trust-fund brats, but he was incredibly accomplished, mature, and ruthless in business. He had already taken over half of the Sterling Group’s operations.

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“I’m so sorry, but this flight is oversold. Here is a two-hundred-dollar voucher. You need to deplane immediately!” The lead flight attendant had a death grip on my carry-on roller bag. I looked at him coldly, then shifted my gaze to the woman standing next to him. She had just been escorted onto the plane, dripping in head-to-toe designer gear. “Why does she get to board late, while I, holding a full-fare ticket, am being kicked off?” I demanded. The flight attendant sneered, leaning in close to whisper sarcastically, “Because she is Chloe Sterling, of the Sterling Medical Group family. She’s rushing to New York to beg ‘The Miracle Surgeon’—the one no one can ever find—to save her life.” “You think whatever emergency you have matters compared to a life-and-death situation? If you delay Ms. Sterling, you couldn’t repay that debt in ten lifetimes. Now, get lost!” I was dragged off the plane by several beefy security guards. I watched through the terminal window as the cabin door closed. I started laughing from sheer anger. The “Ms. Sterling” he was talking about has a terminal illness. And what he didn’t know was that I am that “Miracle Surgeon.” Her family had spent three months begging on their knees before I finally agreed to fly to New York today to perform her operation. Since they kicked me off, I’m not doing the surgery. Good luck, Sterling. You’re going to need it. Chapter 1 I dragged my suitcase, step by heavy step, over to the gate agent’s counter. “I need to cancel and refund my ticket.” I slammed my ID onto the laminate countertop, my voice thick with resentment. The agent glanced at the screen, looked me up and down, and actually rolled her eyes. “So sorry, but since you ‘chose’ not to board, this is considered a voluntary cancellation. You only get back the taxes and facility fees. That’s sixty bucks. No full refund.” I was so angry I laughed. “Voluntary?” “Your airline oversold the flight and had security drag a full-fare passenger off the plane. You call that voluntary on my part?” The agent’s fingers flew across the keyboard, clacking loudly. She looked incredibly impatient. “Look, you were causing a scene in the jet bridge, disrupting order. Breaking federal regulations.” “Honestly, you should be happy you’re getting sixty bucks back. Don’t push your luck.” Just then, the sound of expensive leather shoes echoed from the terminal floor. That same lead flight attendant from before was walking over, head held high, holding his phone up, recording me. “Look at this loser, trying to scam the airline for cash after getting booted. Totally broke and desperate!” “You just want a bigger compensation voucher, don’t you? Why act so high and mighty?” The flight attendant crossed his arms, his face twisted in mockery. “Is two hundred not enough for a peasant like you?” “Maybe I should post this video online so everyone can see how pathetic you are. Who knows? Some nice person might start a GoFundMe for you. A charity case!” I stared at his insufferable face, fighting to keep my rage under control. “You are going to regret everything you did today.” The flight attendant reacted as if he’d just heard the funniest joke in the world. He laughed so hard tears almost came out. “Regret? Me? Regret something concerning a piece of trash like you who can’t even afford Economy Plus, let alone First Class?” “Ms. Sterling chartered the entire First Class cabin. Even her bodyguards are in Business. Her security detail is worth more than your life.” “Who do you think you are, making me regret something?” He spun around, shouting at the top of his lungs to the passengers milling around the concourse. “Everyone, look at this guy!” “He’s the one who refused to cooperate during an overbooking situation and tried to blackmail the airline! Now he’s harassing the gate agents, delaying everyone. He’s a menace!” The surrounding passengers were instantly drawn in. Whispers and judging looks began to fly. “He looks decent, how can he be such a scumbag?” “Exactly. The airline offered compensation, and he still made a scene. He’s crazy for money!” “Just get out of here, stop embarrassing yourself!” I ignored the onlookers and turned back to the gate agent. “Fine. Cancel it.” “But you are going to write down, in black and white, on the receipt, that this was an Involuntary Denial of Boarding due to airline overbooking.” I needed a paper trail. When the Sterling family inevitably came looking for me, I wasn’t going to let them think I broke the contract voluntarily. I was not taking the fall for this. The flight attendant’s face darkened. He slammed his hand on the counter. “In your dreams!” “We offered you a solution, and you refused it. Now you want to slander the airline?” “Where is security? Are they deaf? Drag this lunatic out of here!” Several airport police officers immediately rushed over, grabbing my arms from both sides in a vice grip. “Let go of me!” I struggled desperately, but the cops didn’t listen. They began dragging me toward the airport exit. As they dragged me past the flight attendant, I couldn’t help but issue a final warning. “You better remember my face today. And remember every word that just came out of your mouth.” “Very soon, you’ll be on your knees begging me.” He wasn’t intimidated in the slightest. Instead, he kicked my rolling suitcase over. The already damaged suitcase split completely open. Clothes and specialized, custom-compounded medications spilled across the dirty floor. The flight attendant stomped on one of the glass vials, crushing it instantly. The specialized formula inside turned to powder under his heel. It was over. That was the specialized medication I had compounded specifically for Chloe Sterling. It was the only dose in the world! Without those meds, Chloe Sterling would never survive the post-operative recovery period! “Oh my, I am so sorry,” the flight attendant mocked with fake sympathy. Countless phone cameras were aimed at me. A barrage of mockery overwhelmed me. I was thrown out of the departure terminal, landing hard on the concrete sidewalk. The flight attendant tossed my suitcase—broken and open—onto me like he was throwing out trash. “Take your garbage and get lost! You make trouble again, and we’re locking you up for disturbing the peace!” Just then, my phone began vibrating like crazy in my pocket. The second I answered, a barrage of furious questions blasted through the speaker. “What is wrong with you!” “The plane took off ages ago. I just checked the flight manifest, and your name isn’t even on it!” It was the Sterling family’s chief of staff. His tone was arrogant, demanding answers. “The Sterling family put so much effort into hiring you. We wired you a massive retainer, and you decide to play diva at the last second?” “Who do you think you are, making the Sterlings wait?” “If it weren’t for the fact that you’re supposed to be the best surgeon for this, you think you’d be worthy of treating our Ms. Chloe?” I tried to explain it was the airline’s fault, but he wouldn’t listen. “I’m warning you. Our daughter’s illness cannot wait. If you are not in the operating room at New York-Presbyterian before sundown today, don’t blame the Sterlings for getting nasty!” “You took Sterling money, you better deliver. Believe me, I can make sure you never practice medicine in this country again!” The call slammed shut. The dial tone droned in my ear. My heart was bursting with fury. I dialed the number back. The second it connected, the chief of staff’s impatient voice snapped, “What else could you possibly have to say? Figure it out and charter a private plane if you have to!” “Don’t bother,” I said, my voice cold. “If you want to know why I’m not on that plane, go ask the lead flight attendant of Chloe’s flight.” “What does that mean?” “Exactly what I said.” I hung up immediately. I opened my mobile banking app, found the three-million-dollar retainers—the “good faith payment”—the Sterlings had sent, and hit ‘Return to Sender.’ I added a four-word note: Find Someone Else. Three million might be a fortune to some, but to me, it wasn’t worth the humiliation I endured today. I blocked every Sterling family contact number. Total blackout. Looking at the crushed specialized medication scattered on the pavement, I let out a cold laugh. Chloe Sterling, your life is out of my hands. I hailed a cab and went straight back to the hospital. I had just sat down in my office when my phone started vibrating like crazy again. It was Dr. Evans, the hospital President. He was screaming the moment I answered. “Ethan Vance! What in God’s name is going on!” “The Sterling family just called me! They said you were causing a riot at the airport and tried to attack Ms. Sterling!” “The flight attendant was apparently forced to remove you from the flight to protect Ms. Sterling. Instead of being remorseful, you had the audacity to return their retainer?” I was stunned. Once it clicked, I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. That flight attendant’s ability to twist the truth was world-class. To cover up the airline’s overselling mistake, he concocted a lie like that. And the hilarious part was that the Sterling family actually believed that total garbage without checking for two seconds. “Old Mrs. Sterling herself gave the order. You are to get on the next flight to New York, get on your knees, beg Chloe Sterling for forgiveness, and perform the surgery immediately!” “If you dare refuse, consider yourself fired!” I ignored the screaming through the phone. I pulled out a blank sheet of paper and quickly scrawled my letter of resignation. I walked upstairs and pushed open the President’s office door. Dr. Evans was still holding his phone, looking surprised to see me. Slap! I slammed the resignation letter hard onto his desk. “Don’t bother firing me. I resign.” Dr. Evans stared at the paper, his eyes wide. “Are you insane? You think resigning lets you off the hook with the Sterlings?” I leaned over his desk, looking down at him. “Dr. Evans, I’m burned out. I’m taking a very long vacation out of state.” “If the Sterlings have the power to revoke my medical license, let them try. If they want to blacklist me, let them.” I turned and walked out. “Wait!” “You come back here!” Dr. Evans was screaming behind me in useless rage. I didn’t look back. I walked right out of the building. I did the math in my head. It was about time. Chloe Sterling’s terminal illness was being held at bay solely by that specialized medication I compounded. Now the meds were gone, and she was at thirty thousand feet. It was time for the symptoms to flare up. When I got home, I turned off my phone, drew the curtains, and slept like the dead. Early the next morning, the moment I turned on my phone, it was flooded with missed calls from the Sterling family. Immediately, an unknown number with a local area code called. I answered, and a familiar voice came through. “Dr. Vance! Please, you have to get to the airport right now! Ms. Sterling started vomiting blood on the flight and collapsed into a coma!” “The airline has authorized a complimentary Business Class seat to fly you specifically to New York on a private charter!” It was the lead flight attendant from yesterday. I let out a cold sneer and exposed him immediately. “Complimentary Business Class? Didn’t you say yesterday I was a broke loser who only deserved to be dragged off the plane?” “Shut up!” He was panicked, but his tone was still demanding and arrogant. “The Sterling family is putting immense pressure on the airline. If I lose my job because of you, I’m coming for you! Get your ass down here now!” I hung up immediately. I blocked that number too. Less than half an hour later, a thunderous pounding erupted at my front door. Boom! Boom! Boom! Along with a strong, pungent chemical smell. “Ethan Vance! You murderous quack! Get out here!” I ripped the door open. A bucket of red paint had been thrown over my outer security door, dripping down the crevices. The flight attendant, flanked by several beefy airline security guards, stood aggressively at my doorstep. Neighbors were already gathering in the hallway, peeking out and whispering. “What a shame. He seemed like such a nice young man, but turns out he’s a corrupt doctor.” “Exactly. They’re throwing paint on his door. He must have done something truly awful!” Hearing the gossip, the flight attendant got even more smug. “Look at this quack, everyone!” “He took a patient’s money and didn’t do his job. He intentionally delayed treatment, causing the patient to be in critical condition!” “Now he’s hiding in his apartment playing dead. A corrupt doctor like this belongs in prison!” His face was contorted in fury. He was clearly being pushed to the brink by the Sterling family and was trying to use me as a scapegoat to save himself. “You think hiding works? Today, you are getting to New York even if I have to drag your corpse there!” I looked at the red paint on the floor and was about to call the police when a heavy set of footsteps echoed from the stairs. Several bodyguards in black suits roughly pushed the spectating neighbors aside. Sterling’s chief of staff walked up, looking down at me with supreme arrogance. The flight attendant immediately fawned over him. “Chief, look, I found him! This won’t delay Ms. Sterling’s treatment!” The chief of staff didn’t even give him a glance. He walked straight up to me. “Dr. Vance, are you done with your tantrum?” He pulled out a check and waved it between his fingertips. “Six million. Double the original retainer.” “Come with me right now, and the Sterlings will let bygones be bygones.” I didn’t even look at the check. I coldly spit out two words. “Not interested.” “Don’t push your luck, kid!” The chief of staff’s face instantly darkened, the polite mask slipping. “You really think you can afford to offend the Sterling family?” He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping low, filled with an icy chill. “You don’t want to go? Fine. Today, I am kidnapping you. I will strap you to that operating table myself.” “You don’t want to pick up the scalpel? The Sterlings have plenty of ways to make you.” “I heard… Dr. Vance’s father currently resides at the Cornwall Assisted Living Facility?” My entire body shuddered. They were despicable enough to track down my father’s whereabouts. “You dare touch my father, and you’re dead!” I gritted my teeth, staring at him with pure hatred. “To cure our daughter, the Sterlings will do whatever it takes.” The chief of staff sneered repeatedly, supreme arrogance on his face. “You better smarten up. Go pack your things now.” “Otherwise, I guarantee your father will be thrown out of that facility today, left on the street!” The surrounding bodyguards immediately stepped forward, restraining me. The flight attendant gloated from the sidelines. “Did you hear that? Still trying to act tough in front of the Sterlings? You really won’t give up until you see the coffin, will you?” Looking at their ugly faces, I suddenly started to laugh. The chief of staff’s brow furrowed, extremely impatient. “What are you laughing at!” “I’m laughing at how stupid you are.” I stopped smiling and looked at the flight attendant, who was still looking triumphant. “You really think I’m refusing to save Chloe Sterling because of a grudge?” “Even if I went right now, she’s already dead.” The chief of staff’s face changed dramatically. She grabbed my collar. “What do you mean!”

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After three years of a dead-end marriage and a husband who refused to sign the divorce papers despite keeping a permanent mistress, I stopped crying. Instead, I started swiping. I was at the boutique, eyeing my fifth Birkin of the month, when my husband’s mistress called to stage an intervention. “Do you even know how to be a wife?” Piper’s voice was shrill, dripping with a mock concern that made my skin crawl. “How can you have the heart to buy another bag right now? The firm is in a liquidity crisis. Nathan is losing sleep every single night over the overhead.” She let out a shaky breath, and then, incredibly, she started to sob. “He’s your husband, Isabel. Don’t you feel anything for him?” In the background, I heard the muffled, low timbre of Nathan’s voice, shushing her, comforting her. This was the fifty-ninth time she had lectured me on my “reckless” spending. She was his lead accountant, his “loyal” employee, and the woman he couldn’t seem to quit. We had been trapped in this divorce battle for three years. I didn’t scream. I didn’t even argue. I simply pressed ‘end call’ and turned to the sales associate with a blank smile. I proceeded to spend half a million dollars on a suite of high-end appliances and designer furniture for a home I had no intention of staying in. Ten minutes later, Nathan called. He let out a heavy, performative sigh. “From now on, Piper is in charge of your accounts. If you need a cent, you ask her. She’s a professional; maybe she can finally cure you of this pathological wastefulness.” I listened in silence. My lack of reaction seemed to irritate him more than a tantrum would have. “What are you even doing with all that junk?” he snapped. “Can’t you just try to live a normal life for once?” “You told me once,” I said, my voice as level as a horizon line, “that the day I found someone who actually wanted me, you’d let me go. That you’d sign the papers.” “Isabel—” “I’m buying my trousseau, Nathan. Every swipe of the card is an investment in my new life. I’ve found someone.” … There was a long beat of silence on the other end. Then, a sharp, dismissive scoff. “Is this the only trick you have left?” Nathan asked. “The ‘other man’ routine? I don’t have the energy for this, Isabel. The company is hit with a federal audit, and things are tense.” He let out another sigh, that mixture of exhaustion and arrogance he wore like a tailored suit. “I don’t expect you to help me carry the weight. I just need you to stay in your lane. Stop trying to buy my attention with high-end receipts. I’ve told you a thousand times: you’ll always be Mrs. Nathan Jackson. Stop acting out. It’s beneath you.” He was so certain. He truly believed that outside of the gilded cage he’d built for me, I was nothing. He thought no one else would look at me. He’d thought that three years ago, and he thought it now. I heard Piper’s voice in the background, teasing him. “You don’t think she’s actually seeing someone, do you?” “Please,” Nathan chuckled, a sound full of smug confidence. “No one else would put up with her. With that temper? I’m the only man on earth who can handle her.” He called it a “temper.” He never realized that he was the one who had transformed a soft, quiet woman into a screaming banshee, and eventually, into this cold, silent stranger. Years ago, I would have fought him. I would have stormed into his office and screamed about the accountant he was sleeping with until security escorted me out. But to a man of his stature, my public pain wasn’t a scandal—it was an ego boost. It was a testament to how much he mattered. For three years, he and Piper had been a “we.” She stood where I should have stood at every gala. She sat at his family’s Thanksgiving table while I stayed home. I was the punchline of every joke in the suburban country club circuit. And yet, every time I begged for a divorce, he refused. He’d look at me with that cruel, confident smirk and say: “You want out? Fine. Find a man who’s willing to take you off my hands. Go out there and see who wants Nathan Jackson’s leftovers. See who’s brave enough to cross me.” He overestimated his shadow. And he vastly underestimated me. The man I found wasn’t just “someone.” He was everything Nathan pretended to be, and more. The line went dead. Still feeling the phantom itch of his arrogance, I walked over to the watch counter and asked to see a limited-edition Patek Philippe. The clerk ran my card and winced. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Jackson. There’s a transaction limit. It’s… well, it’s set to fifty dollars.” A text popped up from Piper immediately: I hope you understand. Nathan is under a lot of pressure. Once the firm clears this hurdle, I might increase your allowance to a hundred. Please, Isabel. Have a heart. Stop being a burden to your husband. I actually laughed. A mistress asking the wife to “have a heart” for the man they were both bleeding dry—spiritually or financially. She had played her part well. To the world, she was the “loyal partner” helping a mogul survive his “unstable” wife. To Nathan’s family, I was the fallen socialite whose parents had gone to prison, a girl who had lost her utility and kept only her expensive tastes. I drove back to the house—a sprawling, glass-and-steel mausoleum I had haunted for seven years. It felt like a walk-in freezer. Nathan and Piper were waiting in the living room. They were sitting close, her hand resting casually on his thigh, her fingers tracing the fabric of his trousers. I had seen this tableau so many times that the sight no longer sparked a fire; it just left behind a cold ash. Piper looked at my empty hands and smirked at Nathan. “You were right. Empty-handed. Just another cry for attention.” Nathan gave a small, indulgent nod. They stood up together as I headed for the stairs. “Isabel,” Nathan called out. “We need to talk.” I stopped and turned, a ghost of a smile touching my lips. “About the divorce? Give me a second to call my attorney.” It was the only way to shut him down. The word ‘divorce’ was the only thing that stopped his “concerned husband” monologue in its tracks. His face darkened instantly. “Do you have any idea how you’d survive a week without me? You think you can provide for yourself?” He sneered, tossing a folder onto the coffee table. “We’re cutting back. Piper put together a budget for you. From now on, every expense goes through her for approval.” I saw the flicker of annoyance in Piper’s eyes. Every time I brought up the divorce, Nathan’s refusal hit her like a physical blow. She wanted the title. She wanted the ring. She masked it quickly with a sugary, condescending tone. “Isabel, you’ve never had to worry about the cost of living. Even a fortune has its limits, and the firm’s capital is tied up. We just need you to cooperate.” I didn’t look at her. I looked straight at Nathan. “You should clear your calendar for next week. I’d like you to meet my boyfriend.” He snorted, the sound of a man who’d heard the same joke too many times. “Is this the ‘Boy Who Cried Wolf’ again? It’s getting pathetic, Isabel.” In the early days of the affair, I had tried to make him jealous. I’d staged “dates” and left fake messages. I’d done it three times, and each time, he’d caught me in the lie. Now, when I was finally telling the truth, he was blinded by his own vanity. Piper chimed in, her voice dripping with poison. “Isabel, are you only saying this because you found out I’m pregnant? I know it’s hard for you, but acting out won’t change the facts.” A cold shock vibrated through me. She was pregnant. Only a year ago, Nathan had looked me in the eye and promised, “I’ll never let a woman on the side carry my name. You’re the only mother I want for my children. If it ever happens, I’ll take care of it. Trust me.” Now, he looked at me and said, “Watch your tone, Isabel. Piper is in a delicate state. I won’t have you upsetting her.” “What a coincidence,” I said, my hand resting lightly on my still-flat stomach. “I’m pregnant too. Why would I waste my energy being upset with her?” They both laughed. It was a cruel, mocking sound. They were utterly convinced I was lying. Nathan’s phone rang, and he stepped out onto the terrace to take the call. The second he was gone, Piper’s mask fell. She stepped into my personal space, her voice a lethal whisper. “He’s not keeping you because he loves you. He keeps you because he pities you. To the Jacksons, you’re just a stray dog they forgot to put down. A man’s heart is where his money is, Isabel.” She leaned in closer. “He’s moved all his personal liquid assets into my accounts. The company might be ‘struggling,’ but I have enough in offshore holdings to last ten lifetimes. I’m making you pinch pennies because I don’t think you deserve a single cent of his. Don’t flatter yourself—he isn’t holding onto the marriage. He’s holding onto his property.” She grinned, a predatory flash of teeth. “And by the way? Nathan already scheduled his vasectomy. You’ll never carry a Jackson heir. My child will be the only one who matters.” I watched her, fascinated by her delusions of grandeur. It wasn’t that Nathan wouldn’t touch me—it was that I wouldn’t let him. The day I found out about them, he had tried to force his way into my bed. I had picked up a steak knife and opened a gash in his arm that required sixteen stitches. His scars—on his arms, his legs, the one near his eye where I’d swung a pair of shears—were the map of our “intimacy.” His mother had tried to have me arrested. Nathan had bailed me out, bleeding and furious, but he never tried to touch me again. For three years, we hadn’t even shaken hands. “He’s all yours, Piper,” I said with a shrug. She looked disappointed that I hadn’t shattered. She took another step toward me as I turned to go upstairs. “One more thing,” she said. “You know your parents? That eight-hundred-million-dollar bond to get them out of that fraud mess? Nathan could have paid it three years ago. He had the cash. But he spent it buying out an entire art gallery in London for me because I told him I liked the paintings. Your parents’ lives didn’t mean as much to him as a few canvases on my wall.” That one hit. I didn’t care about the affair anymore, but the realization that he had watched me beg for help, watched me go grey with stress and spend sleepless nights trying to save my family while he sat on the funds to help them… that was a different kind of pain. My parents had practically built Nathan. They had plucked him from a sea of ambitious young men and groomed him to be the heir to the Jackson empire. He had promised them undying loyalty. But he had forgotten. He had watched them burn and toasted his new mistress with the ashes. Luckily, I had found another way. I had gotten them out three months ago, through a connection he didn’t know I had. I turned back to Piper, my eyes like chips of ice. “He gave you the world, but he won’t give you his name. He’d rather get stabbed by me every night than be married to you. That’s a very… unique… kind of love, Piper.” Her face twisted. Before she could retort, Nathan’s mother, Lydia, swept into the room. “Isabel! Are you harassing her again?” Lydia barked. She rushed to Piper’s side, fussing over her like she was made of porcelain. Lydia had spent years calling me a “barren socialite.” Our relationship had been a war zone since the day Piper appeared. Piper squeezed out a few crocodile tears. Nathan walked back in, and without a second thought, he pointed a finger at me. “Apologize to her, Isabel. Now.” I laughed. It was a sharp, jagged sound. “Apologies are for people who intend to change,” Lydia snapped. “She’s hopeless. Piper is carrying a Jackson child. Isabel, if you lay a finger on her, you’ll regret it. In fact, I’ve decided. You’re moving out. You’ll stay at the Heights.” ‘The Heights’ was a thirty-square-meter studio apartment in a run-down part of the city. Lydia had bought it specifically to humiliate me. She’d told me once, “If you can’t act like a lady in this mansion, I’ll lock you in that kennel.” I looked at Nathan. Usually, he’d push back against his mother’s more overt cruelties. Today, he just looked at me with cold indifference. “Do as she says. Move there until the baby is born. We’ll re-evaluate then.” I didn’t argue. “Fine,” I said. The shock on their faces was almost worth the misery of the last three years. After I left, Nathan assumed I was rotting in that tiny studio. He let Piper drop my daily spending limit to twenty dollars. He treated me like a dog he’d finally managed to crate. It wasn’t until Piper’s son was born that he finally came looking for me. He called, his voice thick with a strange, anxious tension. “Isabel? Where are you?” “Get to the point, Nathan,” I said. Piper’s voice broke in on the extension. “Isabel! I’ve given the Jacksons their heir. We’re having a ‘Sip and See’ for the baby’s one-month milestone. We want you there. It would be… good for you to be around such a happy occasion.” The spite in her voice was palpable. “I’ll be there,” I said. “And I’ll be bringing someone.” “Good,” Nathan said, sounding relieved. “I knew a little time on your own would make you grow up. You’re finally acting like the woman I married.” I smiled to myself. The day of the party, I arrived at the Jackson estate. I was eight months pregnant, my belly prominent under a custom silk gown. And I wasn’t alone. I was leaning on the arm of the man who had been my shadow and my strength for the last year. Nathan was standing in the center of the ballroom, cradling his son. When he saw me, the color drained from his face as if someone had pulled a plug. Piper gasped, her glass nearly slipping from her hand. “Isabel? What… what is this?” The room went silent. Every socialite, every business rival, and every member of the Jackson family stared at us. Or rather, they stared at the man holding my hand: Dominic Thorne. I smiled at my husband. “Nathan, I believe it’s time for formal introductions. This is the man I told you about. My partner, and the father of my child—Dominic Thorne.”

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“What’s up, guys? Guess where your boy Jax is taking you tonight?” It was the dead of night when the streamer and his crew burst through the door, hauling their lighting rigs and cameras into the hollowed-out shell of my living room. I was perched on the ceiling beam, aimlessly counting the ants marching across the wood. “Everyone remembers the Riverdale ‘Wife-Slayer’ case from four years ago, right?” Jax—a guy who built his career on “urban exploration” and tragedy-porn—grinned at the camera. He panned the lens around the room, the harsh LED light sweeping across the dust-choked air until it settled right where I was sitting. I flinched, trying to hide. It took me a heartbeat to remember that I’ve been dead for years. I’m nothing more than a fractured shadow, a ghost tied to a ruin. 1 Jax pointed the camera at the beam beneath my spectral seat, his voice dropping into that rehearsed, theatrical rasp. “They say this is it. The exact spot where that monster, Daniel Miller, finally took the coward’s way out and hung himself after his murder attempt failed.” This was the first time anyone had stepped foot in my house since I died. I leaned forward, drawn by a morbid curiosity to see what the world thought of me now. The phone screen in his hand was a blur of scrolling comments. Scumbag. Monster. Burn in hell. The live chat was a feeding frenzy. “God, Jax, why are you in that psycho’s house? It’s bad luck just looking at it.” “Daniel Miller is a stain on the gender. A literal disgrace.” “I remember the news. He didn’t just hit her; he chased her with a knife. Screaming that he was going to gut her. The neighbors heard the whole thing.” “Yeah, I saw the interview with the wife afterward. She was covered in bruises, looking so fragile. It broke my heart.” “A bunch of us went to his house back then to throw eggs and trash. I was one of them. No regrets.” “He was a coward. He couldn’t face the music, so he kicked the chair. Good riddance.” The vitriol poured in, a digital lynch mob four years late. Jax’s face was practically splitting with glee. Every time he mentioned my name, the viewership numbers spiked. People started sending “gifts”—digital stickers that translated into cold, hard cash—demanding he trash the place or “summon” my spirit just to curse it. In the world of clickbait, my misery was a gold mine. “Easy, guys, easy,” Jax said, pulling a decorative “ghost-hunting” dagger and a stack of sage from his bag. He waved them around with practiced flair. “After Daniel died, his wife was taken in by her family, and this place has been sealed ever since. There are secrets buried in these walls, and tonight, we’re going to find them. If Daniel is still lurking here, I’ll make sure he knows he isn’t welcome in this world or the next.” 2 The crowd roared in the comments. Meanwhile, on the west side of the city, in a sprawling modern villa, Jordan sat frozen. He watched the livestream on a massive 4K TV, his knuckles white as he gripped the remote. Suddenly, he swept the glass decor off the coffee table in a fit of rage. “Damn it!” he hissed. “That piece of trash Daniel… he’s been dead for years. Why is his name still popping up to haunt us?” “That idiot streamer usually just does haunted hospitals. Why today? Why that house?” “I can’t let Madison see this,” Jordan muttered, his breathing ragged. “She’s finally starting to live again. She’s finally moved past the trauma.” He didn’t notice Madison standing in the doorway. She walked over quietly, wrapping her arms around his waist from behind, pressing her cheek to his back. “Jordan, honey, don’t get upset over something so insignificant. It’s not worth it.” She let out a soft sigh. “I’ve made my peace with it. Daniel brought me nothing but pain, but he’s gone now.” She shifted her hand, resting it gently over the slight curve of her stomach. “I have you now. And we have our baby coming.” She looked up at him, her eyes wide and searching. “You’ll always take care of us, won’t you?” Jordan turned, pulling her into a fierce embrace, burying his face in her hair. “Maddie, I was so stupid back then. I was so worried about what our parents would think since we grew up as siblings—even if we aren’t related by blood. I pushed you away. I gave you to Daniel because he was my best friend. I thought he’d keep you safe. I almost cost you your life.” He pulled back, cupping her face. “I’m never letting go again. I’ll be with you forever, I swear.” They kissed, framed by the glow of the television. On the screen, Jax had reached the living room wall. He paused, frowning at a dark, brownish-black stain on the plaster. “Wait, what’s this?” He leaned in, sniffing the air, then recoiled, his face pale. “That’s blood.” A massive spray of blood had oxidized over the years, turning into a grim, crusted map. Under the glare of his high-powered flashlight, you could see faint, rhythmic symbols etched into the wall beneath the stain. “Gross! That is haunting.” “I heard he went insane before he died. A madman is capable of anything.” “Maybe that’s some kind of curse he put on his wife. Evil bastard.” “I’m glad he’s dead.” 3 The comments kept coming, the numbers climbing. I stared at the screen, my spectral heart aching. I felt like I was back there, four years ago, looking through the windows at the “righteous” strangers gathered on my lawn to scream at a man they didn’t know. They had never met me, yet they judged me based on a handful of headlines and internet rumors. Is that what justice looks like? A consensus of strangers fueled by half-truths? A bitter coldness washed over me. I didn’t understand how these people could carry so much hate for a ghost. Jax found a stiff brush in his gear bag. He set up the tripod and began to meticulously scrub the dust and grime away from the blood-stained wall. As the crust fell away, he gasped. “Holy—okay, any experts in the chat? What am I looking at?” He pointed to the edge of the symbols. Almost immediately, a comment pinned itself to the top: “Those are burial rites. Specifically, the ‘Prayer for the Departed.’ It’s meant to guide a lost soul to peace.” Another followed: “Jax, look at the center of the wall. It looks hollow. Break it open.” Jax didn’t hesitate. He pulled a small sledgehammer from his pack and swung. On the third hit, the drywall gave way, revealing a dark cavity. Something fell out with a dull thud. “There we go!” He flashed a thumbs-up to the camera and picked up a small, weathered wooden box. Inside was a single photograph and a leather-bound journal. The photo showed an elderly couple standing proudly behind two younger children. “Who are these people?” “Bottom left… is that Daniel?” “Are those his parents? Why would he hide this?” “Did he kill them too? Did he use that prayer to hide his crimes? Is he even more of a monster than we thought?” The “expert” from before commented again: “That prayer is usually commissioned by a grieving person to bless their family. If a murderer used it, it would actually act as a curse upon himself. And look—he chose a photo with himself in it. He’s putting himself under that protection, or that judgment.” Jax stared at the photo, his expression shifting from excitement to genuine intrigue. “Whatever the case, this just got a lot more interesting. Let’s see what the diary says…” 4 [September 5th, 2015. Today is the day. I’m finally marrying her. I’m marrying the girl of my dreams. Jordan handed Madison’s hand to me himself. I promised him, man to man, that I would spend every breath making her happy. Best friends becoming brothers-in-law. This is the happiest day of my life.] Jax had a “storyteller” voice when he wanted to. As he read, the audience seemed to settle. They were seeing a different Daniel—a nervous, head-over-heels kid who thought he’d won the lottery. In the villa, Jordan felt a chill. He remembered that day. He remembered the way Daniel’s hands shook when he put the ring on Madison’s finger. [September 6th, 2015. Last night was our wedding night, but Maddie didn’t want me to touch her. I feel a bit lost, a bit rejected, but I get it. She’s nervous. It’s a big change. I talked to my sister, Lucy, about how to be better, how to make Maddie feel more at ease. I’ll keep trying. I’ll do whatever it takes for her to love me back.] … As Jax continued to read, the chat went quiet. The “scumbag” comments slowed to a trickle. People were listening. Madison’s face had gone paper-white the moment the photo appeared on the screen. “Jordan,” she whispered, clutching her stomach. “I… I don’t feel well. Can we go upstairs? Please?” Jordan assumed the broadcast was triggering her trauma. He shut off the TV immediately and helped her to bed, tucking her in with a tenderness that felt like a shield. But the words from the stream kept echoing in his head. Ten minutes later, once Madison’s breathing had evened out into sleep, Jordan crept downstairs. He turned the TV back on, the volume low. He didn’t know that upstairs, Madison had opened her eyes. “Damn you, Daniel,” she hissed into the darkness, her face contorting with a sudden, sharp malice. She reached for her phone and opened the livestream. [April 3rd, 2017. Maddie’s been so down lately. I booked a surprise trip for us to the coast, but at the last minute, my boss called. A mandatory overtime crisis. I suggested we push it back two days. She didn’t say anything—she just slapped me across the face and walked out the door. Jordan called later. He said he was in the area and would look after her. I was so relieved. But tonight, neither of them are answering their phones. I’m scared.] [April 4th, 2017. Still nothing. I’m losing my mind. Please, God, let them be okay.] [April 5th… no answer.] [April 6th. I couldn’t take it. I caught the first flight I could. I went to the hotel room I’d booked for us. I can’t believe what I saw. They’re siblings. How could they… how could they be doing that?] 5 “Holy shit!” “What does he mean? What did he see?” “Is this going where I think it’s going?” “Wait, the timeline… Daniel was still being a ‘perfect husband’ then. Did he find out they were sleeping together? Is that why things turned violent?” “Doesn’t matter. Domestic abuse is never the answer!” The chat was a war zone of theories. Jordan felt a sharp, stabbing pain in his temples. He remembered that year. He remembered Daniel calling him, panicked, saying Madison had run off to the coast alone. Jordan happened to be on a “business trip” nearby. He told Daniel he’d handle it. After that… He rubbed his eyes. His memory of that month was a blurred mess. He’d been in a car accident shortly after. A concussion, the doctors said. Madison told him it wasn’t important, that he hadn’t missed anything. But he realized now that Daniel had stopped calling him after that trip. And then, one day, Madison had come home covered in bruises, sobbing that Daniel had turned into a monster. Had something happened before the “abuse”? Jax’s voice cut through the silence of the living room. [April 17th. Maddie came back today. She collapsed in my arms, crying. She said Jordan forced her. That he used his position as her ‘big brother’ to trap her. That piece of garbage. I treated him like a brother, and he preyed on his own sister. I wanted to kill him. I was halfway out the door when Maddie stopped me. She begged me not to. She said it would ruin the family. She said the reason she wouldn’t let me touch her was because she felt ‘unclean.’ I just held her. My poor, stupid girl. I don’t care about that. I love her. I’ll protect her. As for Jordan? He’s dead to me.] Jordan froze. He felt like the floor had dropped out from under him. Madison told Daniel that he forced her? But… before they officially became a couple after Daniel’s death, Jordan had never even looked at her that way. Had he? His memory of that hotel room was a fog of alcohol and blackouts. Something was wrong. He pulled out his phone and started making calls. He needed to find the security footage from that hotel. He needed the truth. 6 The diary pages turned. [May 27th, 2019. Today, Maddie told me she’s pregnant. I’m going to be a father. Finally, something good. A real family. I’m working so much to save up for the baby, so I asked my mom to come move in and help out. My sister, Lucy, just finished her exams and wanted to find a summer job nearby too. But Maddie said no. She was adamant. I decided to rent them a place in the apartment downstairs instead. I just wanted them close in case Maddie needed anything.] [July 15th. Maddie found out Mom and Lucy are living downstairs. She screamed at me for hours. She held a kitchen knife to her own throat and told me if I didn’t kick them out, she’d kill herself and the baby. I was terrified. I agreed to send them back.] [July 18th. I told the landlord we’d be out in a week.] [July 19th. My mother is dead. And Maddie lost the baby.] “Wait, what? How?” “How did the mom die?” “Why was Madison so psycho about the mother-in-law? Bringing a knife to her own throat? That’s extreme.” “Suddenly Daniel isn’t looking like the crazy one here…” I watched the words on the screen, and the nightmare of that day flooded back. I had seen my mom in the elevator that morning. She was carrying groceries, smiling. She told me she was going to make a batch of Madison’s favorite dumplings before she left. In our family, it was a tradition—a mother’s handmade meal to give the pregnant daughter-in-law “good fortune” for a safe delivery. I was in meetings all morning. When I finally checked my phone at lunch, I had forty-three missed calls from my sister. My heart stopped. When I called back, Lucy was hysterical. She said there had been an accident. Both Mom and Madison were at the hospital. I never saw my mother alive again. The story I was told was that Mom had come upstairs to bring the dumplings. She had tripped on the landing and fallen down the stairs, hitting her head. Madison had seen it happen, and the shock had caused her to miscarry. I lost my mother and my child in the same hour. In the hospital room, Madison looked like a ghost. She gripped my hand, her voice a fragile whisper. “Daniel, I’m so sorry. It’s my fault. If I hadn’t been so stubborn, if I’d just let her stay with us, she wouldn’t have been on those stairs…” She was grieving, bleeding, and yet she was comforting me. I told her it wasn’t her fault. I blamed myself for not being there to protect them. I swallowed the bitterness. Looking back now, as a spirit, I see that my mother’s death was only the beginning of the harvest. 7 [July 22nd, 2019. I took two weeks off to take my mother’s ashes back to our hometown for the burial. Maddie was still recovering, so I hired a nurse for her. My dad said he’d meet me at the station. He said he had something important to tell me, something he’d found in Mom’s things. At 4:00 PM, my father was killed in a hit-and-run on his way to meet me.] The police report said he’d lost control of his motorcycle and gone over a cliff. No witnesses. No cameras. An “accident.” I lost both parents in a single week. My hair literally turned white over the next few days. I was a walking corpse. By the time I finished the funerals and returned to the city, it was August. [August 2nd. Lucy got her acceptance letter for the university here in town. With Mom and Dad gone, she’s all I have left. Maddie is my soul, but Lucy is my blood.] [August 24th. I dropped Lucy off at the dorms. I watched her walk onto that campus and prayed she’d have the life our parents wanted for her. A bright future.] [August 30th. Lucy is missing.] [September 1st. Explicit photos of Lucy are all over the internet. Someone leaked them to the university board.] [September 2nd. Lucy jumped from the roof of the science building. She’s gone.] 8 Jax stopped reading. He stared at the page as if the ink were burning his eyes. The chat, usually a storm of activity, went completely silent for a long, heavy moment. I know what they were thinking. They were finally feeling the weight of it. I touched the phantom space where my heart used to be. I’ve been dead so long I’d forgotten what that kind of pain felt like. That year had wrung me dry. It had hollowed me out until there was nothing left but the shell. Finally, a single comment broke the silence: “This is too much.” Then, a flood. Too much. This is a nightmare. Poor guy. Jax sighed, a heavy, ragged sound. “To lose everyone… your mom, your dad, your baby, your sister… all in a few months? I’d lose my mind too.” Someone in the chat pushed back: “Wait, let’s be real. The parents were accidents. The sister was a tragedy, but you can’t blame his wife for that. Just because his life was sad doesn’t give him the right to become an abuser.” “Exactly. He probably snapped and took it out on the only person left. Madison is the one I feel for. She lost her in-laws, her baby, and then had to live with a husband who went psychotic.” In the villa, Jordan clung to that thought. He felt a wave of guilt for doubting Madison. The “internet” was right. Daniel was a victim of circumstance, but Madison was a victim of Daniel. He walked upstairs to check on her. He found her huddled under the covers, sobbing quietly. When she saw him, she lunged into his arms. “Jordan, I’m having nightmares,” she wailed, her body shaking. “I dream about Daniel with that knife… he’s coming for me… please don’t let him get me!” Jordan stroked her hair, whispering promises of safety. He cursed himself for watching that show. It was a circus, a disgusting exploitation of her pain. She was pregnant. She needed peace. He decided to go back down and turn off the TV for good. But as he reached for the remote, Jax flipped to a new page. Jax’s voice boomed through the quiet living room, frozen with a new intensity. [January 1st, 2020. I found it. I found the truth. All of it.] 9 The chat exploded. “January 1st? That was the day of the attack! The day he chased her with the knife!” “I remember the video! It went viral. He was arrested and held for three days.” “Madison did that interview right after, crying about years of abuse. The neighbors backed her up.” “The whole country wanted his head. And then he got out of jail and hung himself. We all thought it was ‘guilt’ or ‘cowardice.’” “Jax, what did he find? What was the truth? READ IT!” Jax teased the camera, drawing out the suspense before turning the journal toward the lens. But the page was blank. “What? Are you kidding me?” Jax flipped through the remaining pages. Blank. Blank. Blank. He reached the very last page of the notebook. There, scrawled in frantic, jagged handwriting, were three lines: [My life is over. If anyone ever finds this, open the third drawer of the desk in the study. Press the false back on the left. The secret of my death is waiting for you there.] Jax scrambled toward the study, the camera lurching with him. He fumbled with the desk drawer, his fingers frantic. He pressed, he pried, and suddenly, a small compartment clicked open. He pulled out an old, cracked smartphone. It wouldn’t turn on, but Jax—ever the pro—popped out the microSD card. “I’ve got a reader in my laptop,” he whispered. The chat held its collective breath as he plugged the card in and synced it to the stream. Two video files appeared on the screen. He clicked the first one. My face filled the frame.

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