Category: English

At my wedding, I stuffed the Bouquet into my best friend’s arms, wishing her to find her own happiness soon. Best friend’s smile froze, playfully blamed me: “Don’t curse me, I dedicated my rest life to art, no time give men a look.” But less than a year, I found her naked in my husband’s office. I made a huge scene, hung banners downstairs company, exposed their dirty relationship. Printed their embarrassed look in bed into flyers distributed everywhere. Went to best friend’s school report, looped their small video on her graduation ceremony. But Julian Vance still protected her, let her successfully graduate from top art school in country. I killed red eyes, destroyed solo art exhibition Julian prepared for her. Finally exchanged three years prison, and Julian’s sentence full of disgust: “Back then my mom cheated with your dad you could forgive, why can’t forgive me?” Five years after divorce, I met Julian in a luxury department store. Sales associate was packing the tie I picked for my husband, seeing him tone became warm. “Mr. Vance is here, suit your wife picked for you is ready.” Man nodded slightly, gaze stayed on tie in my hand. “Pay hers together.” I politely rejected, put cash in hand on counter. He seemed sighed. “Rory, so many years passed, you still hate me.” I smiled, didn’t speak. Where have so much time hate him. Long put down. I took packing bag, casually put into canvas tote bag full of vegetables, turned leave. Early autumn wind whistling, walked all way to bus station following memory, wind let hair paste eyes, I somewhat can’t open eyes. Wait pushed away hair in front eyes, but saw Julian’s car stopped in front. See me red eyes, his brows tight frown. “Get in, I send you.” “No need, thanks, I take bus.” He sized me up from top to bottom, glimpsed canvas bag on my shoulder, carefully asked out. “These years, have you lived well?” “Quite good.” Julian obviously not believe. “Get in, let me send you.” Bus behind kept honking, he however motionless. Under public eyes, I helplessly got in car. “Peace Community.” I casually reported address. Air silent moment, man voice difficult. “Why you live in that kind place? There long abandoned, let alone you a woman, also…” He couldn’t say down. I however knew what he wanted say. That is place my mother died, ten years ago today, she refused attend wedding of me and Julian. From 10th floor roof, jumped down. Back seat position spacious, but heating too strong, I lowered car window a bit. “You blow wind will catch cold, better close, if feel hot I turn down temperature.” I shook head smile. “Now won’t, you casual fine.” Man no more voice, moment later his phone rang. “Hubby, did you get clothes? Where are you now?” Voice in car audio familiar, but carried few points enthusiasm coquetry strange to me. “Got it, just met Rory, send her a ride.” Phone other end silent for a moment. “Is Rory back? Also long time no see, why you not say early, gathering together not call me?” Known Scarlett more than ten years, I never heard her use such tone speak. Past she introverted quiet, only whole heart dive in painting, robbed competition quota by people also only hide cry. Still me carried baseball bat publicly smashed that person’s entry work, wrote letter report competition shady curtain plus squatted three days juvenile detention, then asked justice for her. Sure enough, absolute partiality will let people grow flesh and blood. “Just encounter, people have business, send her finish I come back.” “Encounter explains we have fate ya, treat old friend a meal what wrong ma.” “Scarlett, don’t make trouble.” Phone other end silent. Julian when coaxing people always gentle, but thing he decided, no one can stop. Scarlett should clearer than me this point. Phone hurriedly cut off, car just stopped downstairs community. “Arrived.” Polite thank, I got off car go. Man took back gaze from surroundings, called me. Chapter 2 “Rory, can I ask, who did you buy that tie for?” “My husband.” Man supported forehead bitter smile, seemed feel I say these words still betting gas with him. “Same brand and style, 5 years ago you also often bought for me.” “So what?” I met his eyes, gaze calm no wave. “Actually you no need brave in front of me, so many years passed, I just hope you live well, not current this look.” What look? Community gate glass reflected my shadow. A set of casual suit, ordinary flat shoes under feet, plus canvas bag full of vegetables. Look is ordinary person dressing for livelihood. But for me used to wearing fancy clothes and jewelry, this look nothing bad. I smiled, also didn’t angry. “I feel quite good.” Man expression had moment loose stunned. “Rory, you seem really different from before.” “Mm, many people say so.” Finished I turned leave, never turned back. Climbed up 5th floor following stairs, open door. Room layout decoration no different from this time last year. Beside old TV set mother’s portrait, candle in front of her long extinguished. I skillfully set new candle, put on apron walked into kitchen. Soon finished three dishes one soup, opposite table set a bowl rice no one eat, I also eat very slow. “Mom, I met Julian Vance.” “Don’t rush angry first, he can’t bully your daughter head, besides I also not as silly as before.” Respond me only boundless tranquility. Appetite not good, I put down chopsticks walked into bedroom, flipped out an old photo album. “Look at our mom’s flourishing beauty, always look that black white really no fun.” Album not opened yet, dropped a photo from inside on floor. Bent pick up then saw clear faces on it. Julian, me, Scarlett. Three faces overflowing with youth wantonly smiling in front of camera. I held two people’s arms stood in middle, smiled most happily——right tiger tooth position empty a piece, appeared bit silly. That was midsummer of 13 years old. Debt collectors found Julian home shout beat shout kill, surrounding neighbors no one dare help, even my parents dare not. But I rushed up. That fist should hit on Julian face caught off guard hit on my face. Teeth shattered on spot, face swollen big half month. Mother heartached me, let me not interact with Vance family. But didn’t expect Julian mother dragged disabled legs knelt in front of my parents, non-stop kowtow thank. So she soft hearted. Near ten years spring summer autumn winter, my family dining table often added a set of Julian bowl chopsticks, new clothes added during festivals also added a boy style. She not busy time help Julian mother set stall, someone bullied to head full fire open scolded that person dare not come again. They called each other sisters. But no one expected, always cowardly inferior even stutter speaking sister, climbed onto sister husband bed. When I returned home, all things smashed pieces. Mother stood in middle of room crying out of breath, five finger prints on cheeks clear terrible, father then protected woman in arms tight. “Divorce, all things belong you, I only want Linda.” Julian standing beside me dyed panic, want pull Linda hand. But slapped two slaps by mother. I pushed her a push, watched her fall on ground, unbelievable looking me. Chapter 3 That time I also cried, said however heart punishing words. “Mom, based what you hit Julian.” Memory messy, froze on this small photo in hand. Back then divorced with Julian, I burned all things related to him, didn’t expect here still fish slip through net. Just prepared throw thing into trash can, outside door suddenly rang knock sound. I thought is Auntie Zhang used to come visit this time every year, then straight opened. Didn’t expect saw actually is Scarlett holding Julian. She smile盈盈 (full): “Rory, long time no see! So many years no see, you actually didn’t change a bit.” “Julian can’t twist me, we sudden visit won’t disturb you right?” I calm look two people. “I won’t invite you in sit, have matter?” Scarlett met a not soft not hard nail, somewhat aggrieved looked at man beside. “Scarlett she just want see you, also brought gift for you, no other meaning.” Finished man straight put things in hand on foyer cabinet. Scarlett immediately actively introduce up. “This skincare is I recently use very like, just happen home extra a set, before we also often share respective things, just thought bring give you.” I lowered eyes looked once, seem same as my home nanny auntie use that brand. “That photo…” Scarlett suddenly wet eyes: “Rory, so many years, you still didn’t put down right.” I balled photo, casually threw into trash can: “Not as to.” She like want come hold my hand, but stopped in mid-air. “I know you still harbor grudge, if you and Julian still together, today also exactly your wedding anniversary.” “Back then matter I also body not self control, if you really not care, just let us treat you a meal, you life have what we can help also tell us, all old friends.” Almost no need think, I just prepared refuse. Candle in front shrine suddenly “Bi Bo” a sound. I shallow smile, suddenly changed mind: “Okay ah.” Scarlett words more than before. Small actions also frequent. While saying romantic travel with man in Turkey last month, while waiting red light use finger apply own lip balm to man. “Every year once autumn winter need me remind then remember, last time kissed harder still bled, you not long memory ma?” Man grabbed her moving hand, like somewhat annoyed: “Don’t trouble.” “Aiya, look I forgot, still have Rory. Rory, you won’t mind right? Me and Julian used to get along like this…” I extremely tolerantly interrupted her. “Of course not.” “Back then you guys rolled on one bed look I all seen, how would mind now this bit small scene.” Car cabin fell into a piece silence. Finally quiet down. I looked scenery along way, thinking if mother still here, should also exclaim at current change. Back then father insisted divorce for Linda, almost forced her crazy. And me secretly became couple with Julian this matter, directly took her life. At first, I only hated father and Linda. Is they betrayed mom, forced her short time from an invincible woman became a resentful woman surprised at little things. Time on her body flow seemed exceptionally hard, bit by bit took away her vitality. Chapter 4 Later, I hated myself. Sorrowfully held funeral for mother, I alone went South during time should honeymoon, stayed a month. During that time, I only didn’t hate Julian. He is a pearl covered by dust, is fate bitter but powerless child. Before leave, I asked Scarlett help me take care him. She took care very well, movement sharp capable cooking in our wedding new house, five dishes one soup looked selling appearance excellent. I sincerely thank her. This year, our three relationship closer than before. Julian treated me better. Company earned first bucket gold, he all used buy that set gem bracelet I like. My birthday, he set off fireworks whole city celebrate. Every month period days, he would push all offline meetings, accompany me work at home. I never suspected. He loves me to bone. Until a certain accidental, I alone went his office. Inside secret door ajar in office, dense unbearable moan. Push open door. White two bodies, like knife stabbed into my eyes. I uncontrollably lost voice scream. Action he protect woman under body rapid decisive. “Who let you come in!” “Get out!” I crazy like grabbed all things hand can reach smashed them. Julian forehead flowed blood, but still remember dead protect woman in arms. I smashed all things in room. But late dare not approach them—— That once was two people I loved most in life ah. Fear deep into bone marrow, I shaking teeth try calm. “Scarlett, you look at me.” Woman cried red face, in quilt wrapped into a ball kneel to me. “Rory, sorry.” “Me and Julian is shouldn’t, but we already uncontrollably fell in love.” “Beg you, fulfill us okay?” Her low three down four look, like extreme that year first meet, she surrounded by few bully girls at alley mouth look. Also that year, to protect her, as model student me completely offended that group people, very long time dare not walk small road. I once personally gave wedding bouquet to her. Bless her can find happiness belong herself. And she now lie in my husband arms, beg me fulfill her. Tears flow down, my voice very light. “When started?” She trembling lips can’t say out. But someone answered for her. “Is this important? Troubled enough or not, here is company, not your home.” “Is this not important?! Julian Vance! Is this not important?!” I hysterically questioned him. He naked, gaze however calm. “Good! I tell you!” “Last year March, you threw me alone ran South, that time we just together.” “I not intentional want hide you, just you just lost mother, I don’t want hurt you again, so followed your temper maintain this marriage.” “Scarlett already suffered many bitter, I don’t want see her worry fear for me again, I originally planned wait your mother death anniversary pass, mention divorce with you.” “Since you already discovered, then simply spread words talk.” “Divorce, you want what all okay, I only want Scarlett.” Until that moment I then thoroughly understood. Back then I stood Julian side, that palm pushed to mother, how heavy. Before divorce with Julian, I still made big trouble a round.

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My best friend, Chloe, spent her entire life devouring billionaire romance novels. She was convinced that one day, she’d marry into high society. I used to think she was just talking big. But to my absolute shock, she actually managed to hook up with Arthur Sterling, the wealthiest man in the city. Their romance was a whirlwind, ending in a surprise wedding. For two weeks straight, the news was plastered with clips of their extravagant ceremony. When she FaceTimed me, she was on her honeymoon in Hawaii, lounging in Arthur’s arms with a beaming smile. “Babe,” she giggled, “Arthur and I talked it over. Next month, as soon as we get back from the honeymoon, you’re moving in with us!” Arthur chimed in from the side, “My wife’s friends are my friends. We’re family now.” A month later, I stood in front of the Sterling estate, luggage in hand. I smiled at the butler and said, “Hi! I’m Chloe’s best friend. I’m moving in to stay with her!” The butler froze. “Chloe? Who is Chloe? Mr. Sterling has always been single.” 1 The smile on my face instantly vanished. “You’ve got a great sense of humor, sir,” I let out a dry laugh. “Chloe! Arthur Sterling’s wife! I met you at the wedding reception—I even handed you a pack of expensive cigarettes. Stop teasing me.” The butler looked at me with a completely stone-faced expression. “I don’t have time for jokes. There is no Chloe here. Only Mr. Sterling and I live in this house. If you keep making a scene, I’m calling the police.” With that, he moved to shut the gate. “Wait! Don’t close it!” Panic set in. I grabbed the iron bars of the gate with one hand and frantically pulled out my phone with the other. “I have proof! It was a massive wedding—how could you just forget? Are you suffering from dementia or something?” I pulled up Instagram, scrolling through my saved folders for the livestream of the wedding. I remembered taking screenshots and sending them to Chloe, crying happy tears of envy. But as soon as I clicked the link, a pop-up appeared: [This content has been deleted or does not exist.] My head started spinning. How was that possible? Refusing to believe it, I opened my browser bookmarks to several news articles: “City’s Top Billionaire Spends $100 Million to Marry Cinderella” and “Chloe: The Girl Kissed by God.” The moment I clicked them, every single link went dead. “How… they were working last night…” The butler watched my every move with cold indifference. “Miss, faking news and spreading rumors is a crime. Are you that desperate to climb the social ladder?” “I’m not making this up!” I screamed, my fingers trembling as I switched back to WhatsApp. “I have our chat logs! Look! Just one minute ago, she sent me a message!” On the screen, the chat box with Chloe’s selfie as the profile picture was clear as day. [Babe, I just put on a face mask… the butler will let you in…] “Just you wait! I’m calling her right now!” My voice cracked with desperation. “When she comes down to get me, you’re fired!” The next second, a cold, robotic female voice came through the speaker: “The number you have dialed is not in service. Please check the number and try again…” I went numb. Out of service? I looked at the WhatsApp screen again. She was literally just talking to me a second ago. A terrifying chill crept up my spine. Instant replies on chat, but a dead number on the phone? What kind of horror movie was this? The butler’s expression didn’t shift an inch. He gave me one last look, full of pure disgust. “Get lost. If you stay, I’m calling security to throw you down the hill.” BAM! The gate slammed shut. I stood there in the blistering sun, yet I felt like I had fallen into an ice cellar. What was going on? Chloe was clearly inside—why was the butler denying it? Why did all the news vanish? Had something happened to her? Was Arthur Sterling keeping her prisoner, erasing her existence so he could pretend to be single again? My scalp felt tight with fear and rage. No, I couldn’t leave. If I left, she’d be truly alone! Gritting my teeth, I dragged my suitcase to the center of the driveway and sat down. I didn’t believe for a second that Arthur wouldn’t come out eventually. Sure enough, ten minutes later, a black Maybach slowly approached. I recognized it—it was the same car Arthur used to pick Chloe up on their wedding day. In a moment of blind heat, I lunged forward, spreading my arms wide to block the car! “Arthur Sterling! Get out! Where are you hiding Chloe?!” The driver turned pale and was about to hop out to curse me out when the rear window slowly rolled down. It was him—Arthur, Chloe’s new husband. I rushed to the window and roared, “Mr. Sterling! Your butler says you’re single and that Chloe doesn’t exist! We FaceTimed two weeks ago while you guys were in Hawaii! What the hell is happening?!” Arthur’s brow furrowed slightly, a flicker of confusion in his eyes. “Chloe? Hawaii?” I thought he was playing dumb and was ready to explode, but he simply signaled his staff to open the gate. “Since you’re here, come inside and explain yourself. I’d very much like to know…” “Exactly who this ‘Mrs. Sterling’ is that you’re talking about.” 2 The moment the gate opened, I didn’t even wait for Arthur to get out of the car. I bolted toward the villa with my suitcase. The butler tried to stop me, but I shoved him aside. “Don’t touch me!” I knew the layout of this place perfectly. On the wedding day, I had spent hours in the master suite on the second floor with Chloe. “Chloe! Come out!” I kicked the bedroom door open. I rushed in, my eyes frantically scanning the room. Nothing. No Chloe. There wasn’t even a single trace of a woman living there. “How…” Refusing to accept it, I threw open the walk-in closet. “The closet! Yes!” I remembered it clearly! On the wedding day, there were two entire walls of Hermès bags behind this door! I had hugged a Himalayan Birkin and screamed while Chloe laughed, telling me she’d give me one. Whoosh— I pulled the closet doors open with sheer force. My hands froze in mid-air. Empty. Only a few dark, custom-tailored suits hung there, lonely and cold. No Hermès. No Chanel. “Impossible… this can’t be…” I knelt on the floor, my hands frantically feeling the bottom of the wardrobe, trying to find a single long strand of hair or a stray earring. But there was nothing. The place was as sterile as a model home. Arthur leaned against the doorframe, his voice flat. “Have you seen enough, Miss Woods?” I slumped on the floor, my mind a mess. Was this a long con? Was the Arthur Sterling that Chloe met an imposter? But… this villa was real. Could a con artist be so powerful that they could rent out the wealthiest man’s estate just for an act? And if it was a scam, why was the real Arthur Sterling living here now? “I don’t believe you!” I scrambled up, pointing at Arthur. “You’re the scammer! You hid everything, didn’t you? I’m calling the police! I have video evidence! You were on a honeymoon in Hawaii two weeks ago!” Arthur looked at me like I was an incurable lunatic. He took out his phone and dialed 911. “Hello, this is Arthur Sterling. I have a trespasser at my residence. Please send someone over.” Ten minutes later, the police arrived. “Officers! I want to report a missing person! Chloe Sterling is gone! He did something to her! I have proof! They were in Hawaii two weeks ago!” The officers looked at me, then at Arthur. Arthur looked purely exasperated. “Officer, I’ve been in the city for the past two weeks handling a corporate merger. I haven’t been to Hawaii in over a year. You can check my travel records.” The officer checked his terminal immediately. Two minutes later, he turned the screen toward me. “Miss Woods, the system shows that Mr. Arthur Sterling has no record of leaving the country in the last three months.” BOOM! It felt like a lightning strike in my brain. No travel records? “Impossible! I saw it… the waves, the sand…” The officer put the terminal away, his expression stern. “Miss Woods, filing a false police report is a crime. Since you seem genuinely confused or perhaps scammed, I’ll give you a verbal warning this time. Leave now, or we’ll process you for disorderly conduct.” I stood there, frozen, my hands and feet ice-cold. A massive wave of terror swallowed me. Arthur stood to the side, his eyes as indifferent as if he were looking at a bag of trash. “Butler, show her out. If she ever sets foot on this property again, call the police immediately.” The butler stepped forward, roughly pushing my suitcase toward the door. “Miss Woods, after you.” I bit my lip so hard it bled, shaking with rage. I couldn’t accept this! Everything was real—why was it suddenly turning into my own personal delusion? I dragged my heavy suitcase out, looking back at every step. As I passed the large porcelain vase near the foyer, my suitcase wheel clipped the edge of the trash can. Clatter. The trash can tipped over. A pile of crumpled papers rolled out. The butler barked at me, “Stop playing games and get out!” But just then, a crumpled-up receipt caught my eye. Looking at it, the blood in my veins turned to ice. It was a convenience store receipt. Item: Orange Crush Menthol Cigarettes. Time: Yesterday, 2:30 PM. That was Chloe’s favorite brand of cigarettes. I secretly snatched the receipt and tucked it away, walking out of the villa without making another sound. 3 At dawn, I called Chloe’s former coworker, Maya. “Maya, it’s Avery! Where’s Chloe? Has she contacted you since the wedding?” There was a pause on the other end, followed by a sharp yell: “Avery, are you crazy? Chloe doesn’t even have a boyfriend, let alone a husband!” My heart dropped. “The wedding livestream last month? Arthur Sterling? You didn’t see it?” “You’re delusional,” Maya interrupted impatiently. “She quit her job and moved back to her hometown last month!” Before I could react, she hung up. With trembling hands, I called Chloe’s mom. “Auntie! Something’s happened to Chloe! Arthur Sterling is denying everything! You have to come to the city!” Chloe’s mom was silent for five seconds. “Avery… what kind of nonsense is this? Since when did Chloe get married?” I froze. “The dowry! Didn’t he send you $1.5 million?” “What dowry? Child, do you have a fever?” Her voice grew urgent. “Chloe told me last month she was going to the countryside to clear her head. She even sent photos! What boyfriend? Don’t go ruining her reputation with this talk!” Click. The phone went dead again. I was completely stunned. Had even her own mother been bought off? I didn’t believe it. I took a cab straight to my own mother’s house. The second I walked in, I grabbed my mom. “Mom! Chloe’s in trouble! Everyone is lying to me!” I poured out everything that had happened. My mom listened, then touched my forehead. “Avery, when did Chloe get married? Why don’t I know about this?” My brain felt like it was exploding. “Mom! Stop joking! We watched the livestream together last month! You even said Arthur was handsome!” My mom frowned. “Last month you were working overtime, and I was watching my soap operas. When did we watch a livestream?” I pulled out my phone and shoved it in her face. “Look! Here’s the evidence! Chloe brags about her trophy wife life every day! Yesterday she even told me to come over!” My mom glanced at it and sighed. “Avery, this is just that ‘Marry a Billionaire’ roleplay game you girls used to play as kids. Stop it before you cause real trouble.” Roleplay? I stared at the screen. A massive question nearly drowned me. If it was roleplay, what was that wedding? If I was dreaming, how did I know the exact layout of the Sterling bedroom? More importantly, if Chloe didn’t hook up with Arthur, I wouldn’t even know who that man was! And the most critical question: Where was Chloe now? Suddenly, I remembered something. There was one more place that could prove it! I ran out and hailed a cab. “The Grand Plaza! Everlasting Weddings!” Chloe’s wedding was handled by the biggest wedding planning company in the city. I didn’t believe a company that size could just vanish into thin air! Ten minutes later, I stood in front of a door covered in official government seals. [Everlasting Weddings is closed for restructuring due to poor management.] The date on the seal was exactly two weeks ago. The day after Chloe’s wedding ended! I looked through the glass doors. The place was a wreck—chairs flipped, documents scattered everywhere. They ran? The city’s biggest wedding planner gets a $100 million contract from a billionaire and then goes bankrupt the next day? I pulled out my phone and dialed the owner’s number. “The number you have dialed is not in service…” Another dead number! A chill ran from my toes to the top of my head. Everyone and everything related to that wedding was being erased one by one. This only proved that something was definitely wrong. I refused to give up! There had to be something they didn’t clean up! “The spa! Yes!” I remembered! A week before the wedding, Chloe took me to a top-tier luxury spa for a treatment. To show off, she loaded $75,000 onto a VIP card for me! “Babe, keep this card. Use it whenever you want. It’s on Arthur’s black card anyway!” I rushed to the spa. “Check the balance on my membership card!” The receptionist tapped a few keys. “Miss Woods, your VIP card has a balance of $74,800.” I felt a surge of pure joy! Over 70 grand! I was a regular office worker making $3,000 a month—where would I get $75k to load a spa card? “Quick! Show me the transaction history! Who loaded it?” The receptionist turned the screen. “You loaded it yourself, Miss Woods.” I froze. “What do you mean I did? Chloe swiped her card! Arthur Sterling’s secondary card!” The receptionist looked confused. “Chloe? We don’t have a member by that name.” “Impossible!” I roared. “Check the security footage! Chloe and I came here together!” The manager came over, looking annoyed. “I’m sorry, Miss Woods, security footage involves client privacy. We can’t just show it.” “Oh, you won’t show it?” I sneered, pulling out my phone. “Then I’m calling the cops! I’m reporting suspicious funds of nearly a hundred grand. The police have the right to see it!” Twenty minutes later, the police arrived. And walking in behind them was Arthur Sterling. He had that same look of weary pity. “Miss Woods, how much longer are you going to keep this up?” “Shut up! Watch the footage!” At the officers’ request, the manager reluctantly pulled up the footage from that day. Everyone stared at the screen. On the screen, I walked through the door. I was… completely alone. I pulled a black card out and handed it to the receptionist, my mouth moving as if I were talking to someone. But by my side, from beginning to end, there was no one. The room went dead silent. The officers looked at me with a mix of sympathy and caution. Arthur sighed and stepped forward as if to pat my shoulder. “Miss Woods, go to the hospital. I’ll cover the bill.” I stood there, paralyzed, shaking. Was I really alone? Was I truly insane? Had I made all of this up in my head? But just as the police were about to take me away, I realized something. I looked up and stared at Arthur Sterling. “Arthur, stop acting. I know where Chloe is.” 4 Arthur’s hand stopped in mid-air. His eyes narrowed. “Miss Woods, do you even hear yourself?” The officer frowned and reached for my arm. “Miss Woods, let’s go to the station and calm down.” I shoved the officer’s hand away and pointed at Arthur. “You’ve all been tricked!” “The footage shows me alone, but that actually proves Chloe was there! Because that day, Chloe never got out of the car!” I talked fast, pinning Arthur with my gaze. “Chloe drove me here that day. She stayed in the car to take a call and told me to go in and load the card first! She gave me the black card and told me the PIN! If I’m crazy, if I’m delusional, how could I possibly know the PIN to Arthur Sterling’s secondary card?” Arthur’s face finally changed. That split second of stiffness was all I needed to see. The officer turned to Arthur immediately. “Mr. Sterling, explain. Why does Miss Woods have your card and your PIN?” Arthur was silent. He looked at me, his eyes turning dangerously dark. “Miss Woods, you stole my card, and now you’re playing the victim?” “Stole?” I sneered, pulling the crumpled convenience store receipt from my pocket. “What about this? Did I steal this too? Orange Crush Menthol Cigarettes! Yesterday at 2:30 PM, bought at the convenience store right outside your estate!” Arthur’s pupils shrank. He blurted out, “My driver bought those!” I laughed, now certain of my theory. “Really? Because yesterday at 2:30 PM, your driver was at corporate headquarters delivering documents for you! It’s on the HQ security cameras! So you tell me… who bought the cigarettes?” Arthur stepped forward, reaching for the receipt. “Avery Woods! You trespassed and dug through my trash? Give that to me!” “Why are you panicking?” I stepped back behind the officer. “Arthur, why do you think I lured everyone to this spa? It’s called a distraction!” I held up my phone, showing a call in progress with my mom. “While we were arguing here, I had my mom go to that convenience store! You’re a billionaire, you can control the news and buy off spa managers. But that convenience store is a national franchise with cloud-synced security. You can’t delete it!” Arthur looked genuinely panicked now. His high-and-mighty elegance vanished, and a thin layer of sweat broke out on his forehead. “Avery! Don’t you dare!” “Why wouldn’t I?” I yelled into the phone. “Mom! Send the footage! Let the police see who bought the cigarettes yesterday! Once the footage is out, we’ll know exactly where Chloe is!” Ping. A WhatsApp notification. My mom sent a video. My heart was racing. My hands shook. I won! The truth was coming out! I clicked the video and held the screen up for everyone. “Arthur Sterling, open your eyes and look! Is this Chloe?!” The next second, the smile on my face froze. A bone-chilling cold rushed from my feet to my skull. In the footage, the person buying the cigarettes… was me.

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When the car pulled over onto the highway shoulder, I thought Lucas just needed to use the restroom. “Sophie’s asleep. Try not to wake her,” I said, pulling my daughter’s little blanket up higher. Lucas didn’t look back, his fingers drumming on the steering wheel. “Grace. Take Sophie and get out of the car.” I froze. “What?” From the back seat, Sarah spoke in a soft voice. “Lucas, darling, it’s alright. We can manage, it’ll just be a little crowded.” Her daughter, Ava, immediately started to cry. “No! I don’t want to sit with that sick little girl! She was coughing all over!” Lucas turned around, and his eyes were colder than I had ever seen them. “Did you hear me? Get out.” “My sister Tiffany is already on her way. She’ll be here in half an hour.” “You two can wait here.” The day before Christmas Eve, on the side of the highway, in below-freezing temperatures. I held my three-year-old daughter and watched him start the car again. The red of the taillights grew smaller and smaller in the swirling snow. Until they disappeared completely. … The snow was coming down harder now. I stood by the guardrail on the shoulder, holding Sophie, trying to shield her from the wind with my own body. “Mommy, where’s Daddy?” Sophie whispered, her cheeks flushed red from the cold. “Daddy… Daddy went on ahead to Grandma’s house,” I forced a smile. “Aunt Tiffany is coming to get us soon.” “But it’s cold…” I wrapped her inside my down coat, using my scarf to cover her head. My phone had 30% battery left. I called Tiffany. Once. Twice. Three times. Finally, she answered. “Grace? What’s up?” The background was loud, like she was at a party. “Tiffany, your brother said you were coming to pick us up. Where are you?” “Huh? Pick you up?” Tiffany paused. “Oh, right, right, I remember. He told me.” “But I’m out with friends right now, I can’t really leave.” “You guys just wait a bit, I’ll head over later.” “Tiffany, it’s freezing on the highway. Sophie can’t take it…” “Oh, come on, Grace, don’t be so dramatic. What’s wrong with waiting a little?” “My brother said Sarah and Ava can’t be out in the wind, that he had to get them home right away.” “There are two of you, an adult and a kid. A little wait won’t kill you.” The line went dead. I clutched my phone, my fingers numb with cold. I tried Lucas. Voicemail. Again. Still voicemail. Sophie was shivering in my arms. “Mommy, I want to go home…” “Soon, sweetie. We’ll be home very soon,” I whispered, kissing her forehead. My eyes burned. In four years of marriage, I never knew Lucas could be this cruel. To abandon his own wife and daughter on the highway for another woman’s child. All because Ava whined, “I don’t want to sit with that sick little girl.” Headlights cut through the gloom in the distance. I waved frantically. A black SUV slowed and stopped in front of us. The window rolled down, revealing a young man. “Need some help?” I felt like I was grabbing a lifeline. “Could you give us a ride? Just to the next service station would be amazing!” The man looked at the child in my arms and frowned. “Get in.” “Thank you! Thank you so much!” I reached for the door handle… “Grace?” I froze. Another head popped out from the car. It was Lucas’s cousin, Ryan. He looked at me, then at the empty stretch of highway. “Grace, what are you doing out here? Where’s Lucas?” I quickly explained what had happened. When I finished, Ryan’s face was dark with fury. “Is he insane? He left you and Sophie out here?” “So Sarah’s daughter is a delicate flower, but his own isn’t human?” He cursed under his breath, then said to the driver, “Rick, let’s get them in the car. We can squeeze.” The front was full, and the back seat was packed next to Ryan. “There’s no room…” the driver said, looking troubled. Ryan immediately got out of the car. “You guys go on. I’ll wait here.” “No way!” “Just go!” Ryan pushed me toward the car. “Sophie’s lips are turning blue. She can’t stay out in this cold any longer!” I climbed into the back seat with Sophie in my arms. The blast of warm air was so intense it made my frozen skin ache. Ryan shut the door and knocked on the window. “Grace, call me when you get to the service station! I’ll have my brother come get you!” “Ryan, it’s too cold out here, what will you do…” “I’m a grown man, I’ll be fine! Think about the kid! Now go!” The car pulled away. Through the rear window, I watched Ryan’s figure shrink in the swirling snow. A lump formed in my throat. My own husband had abandoned us on a highway. And in the end, it was a near-stranger who came to my aid. Sophie fell asleep in my arms, her small face an unhealthy shade of red. I touched her forehead. She was burning up. “Sir, can you please go faster? My daughter has a fever!” The driver nodded and accelerated. I took out my phone, intending to call Tiffany again. No signal. The highway cut through a mountainous area, where service was spotty. “How much further to the service station?” “About fifteen miles. In this weather, at least half an hour.” Half an hour… I held Sophie tighter, constantly checking her temperature. She was getting hotter. “Baby, wake up. Don’t sleep…” Sophie’s eyes fluttered open. “Mommy, I don’t feel good…” “I know, sweetie. We’re almost at the hospital. Just hold on a little longer.” She suddenly started coughing, a deep, wracking cough that made her face turn purple. I patted her back, the tears finally starting to fall. “Sir, please, I’m begging you, go faster!” The driver was getting anxious too. “This is as fast as I can go! The roads are slick with ice!” Sophie’s coughing grew more violent, her breathing a ragged, wheezing sound. “Mommy… I can’t… breathe…” I unzipped her coat and saw her chest heaving violently. It was acute pneumonia. She’d had it once before, last year. She almost didn’t make it. “Sophie, look at Mommy. Don’t close your eyes!” “Mommy will tell you a story, about the little white rabbit…” Her eyes were half-lidded, her breathing growing fainter. I started pounding on the window like a madwoman. “Help! My daughter is dying! Somebody help!” But on the highway, there was nothing but the wind and the snow. The SUV finally pulled into the service station. I ran with Sophie into the convenience store. “Is there a doctor? My daughter is sick, she needs help!” The clerk looked terrified. “We… we don’t have a doctor here…” “Call 911! Now!” “The cell tower is down… The call won’t go through…” My legs gave out, and I nearly collapsed. In my arms, Sophie had gone silent. At the small motel attached to the service station, the owner rummaged around and found a box of fever reducer and some antibiotics. “Maybe try giving her this?” My hands were shaking so badly I couldn’t tear the packaging open. Sophie lay across my lap, her breathing so shallow it seemed like it could stop at any moment. I managed to get the pill into her mouth, but she didn’t even have the strength to swallow. “Sophie, please, swallow it. I’m begging you…” The pill, dissolved in saliva, trickled out of the corner of her mouth. The motel owner couldn’t bear to watch. “Look, I can drive you to the county hospital. But with this snow, the roads might be closed…” “Go! We have to go now!” I pulled all the cash I had from my wallet and shoved it at him. “Please!” He clenched his jaw. “Alright. I’ll risk it.” The car crawled along the snow-covered road. With every bump, Sophie’s small body seemed to go limper. I held her hand, talking nonstop. “Sophie, remember how you wanted to go to Disneyland? Mommy will take you.” “We’ll ride the biggest carousel.” “And you can wear an Elsa dress, right?” “Mommy will take you to Universal Studios, too. We’ll see the Transformers, your big heroes, okay?” Her eyelashes fluttered. But her eyes remained closed. Suddenly, my phone vibrated. Signal! My hands trembling, I dialed Lucas’s number. It rang for a long time before he finally picked up. “Hello?” The background was quiet, like he was at home. “Lucas…” My voice was so hoarse I could barely speak. “Sophie is sick. It’s… it’s really bad…” “Where are you?” His voice was terrifyingly calm. “On the way to the county hospital. You have to come…” “Grace,” he interrupted me. “Didn’t Tiffany go to pick you up?” “She never came! She never showed up!” “That’s impossible. She just posted on social media that she was on her way.” I froze. I opened my social media app and found Tiffany’s profile. Her latest post, ten minutes ago. A selfie, with the highway visible in the background. The caption read: “On my way to pick up my sister-in-law! So sweet of my big bro to think of them~” The location tag was sixty miles away from us. She hadn’t moved. She was lying to Lucas. And she was lying to me. “See?” Lucas said. “Tiffany will be there any minute. Just wait.” “We can’t wait! Sophie is dying! Our daughter is dying, Lucas!” “Grace,” his voice turned cold. “It’s Christmas. Don’t say such unlucky things. What’s all this talk about dying?” “Sarah and Ava just got here, and Mom is in a great mood. Don’t ruin it.” “When Tiffany gets you, just take Sophie to a clinic.” “Kids get fevers. It’s normal. She’s not going to die. Stop being so dramatic. Be good.” He hung up. I stared at my phone, the blood turning to ice in my veins. The driver glanced at me in the rearview mirror. “Your husband?” I nodded. “Bastard,” he muttered. “Hang on tight. I know a shortcut. We can’t let anything happen to this little girl.” The car turned onto a mountain road. The snow was even heavier here. I could barely hear Sophie breathing anymore. I felt for her heartbeat. It was so faint, it felt like a hallucination. “Sophie… don’t scare Mommy…” “Mommy was wrong. Mommy was an idiot to fall in love!” “Mommy was wrong to marry him…” “I shouldn’t have let you suffer…” Sobbing, I reached into an inner pocket and pulled out a small, button-sized metal device. My father had given it to me. “Gracie,” he had said, “the Harrison family has always favored sons. If they ever mistreat you because Sophie is a girl, press this.” I pressed it. There was no sound. But I knew a signal had been sent. My father had promised that if I ever pressed it, his people would be there within three hours. But three hours… Could my Sophie last for three hours? We finally reached the county hospital. I burst into the emergency room carrying Sophie, my throat too raw to scream. A nurse saw Sophie’s condition and immediately called for a doctor. “Acute pneumonia! Heart rate is dropping! Get ready to resuscitate!” I was blocked from entering the trauma room. Through the glass, I watched as doctors intubated Sophie, hooking her up to monitors. Her tiny body, lying on that big bed, looked like it could vanish at any moment. I sank to the floor in the corner, shaking uncontrollably. My phone rang again. Lucas. I answered, but said nothing. “Grace, where are you now?” he asked, his voice impatient. “My mother is waiting to eat dinner.” I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. “Talk to me!” “The hospital…” I managed to squeeze out the words. “Sophie… they’re trying to save her…” “What?” He paused. “What are you doing at a hospital? Where’s Tiffany?” “She didn’t come…” “Impossible. She just texted me. She said she picked you up.” I opened our family group chat. Twenty minutes ago, she had sent a message: “Bro, got them. On our way back now.” Attached was a blurry photo taken from inside a car. The back of a woman in the passenger seat, wearing a coat that looked just like mine. It was an old photo she had taken of me. She was playing him. With a picture she had saved for this very purpose. “She’s lying,” I said. “Lucas, you need to come to the hospital. Now.” There was a few seconds of silence. “Grace. Are you trying to get out of coming for Christmas?” “Are you upset that Sarah is here?” “Is that why you’re making up these lies?” I was stunned. “You think I’m lying to you?” “What else am I supposed to think?” he scoffed. “Why would Tiffany lie to me?” “She’s my sister. What are you?” “A woman who was useless after giving me a daughter.” I gripped the phone, my nails digging into my palm. “Lucas, if Sophie dies today, I will never forgive you as long as I live.” “Whatever,” he said. “Besides, my mother already said Sarah can still have a son.” “If you can’t give me a son, you should make way for someone who can.” He hung up. I listened to the dial tone, slowly sliding to the floor. The doors to the trauma room opened.

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The day after I graduated from college, my father threw me out of the house. He made the announcement in the family chat thread. “I didn’t raise him all these years just so he could be a deadbeat mooching off me.” “Two hundred dollars is more than enough to get him started until he finds a job.” “If he can’t make something of himself, I won’t call him my son.” The likes and agreements from relatives poured in immediately. To pay off my student loans, I was forced to rent the cheapest room available and take on the toughest, most exhausting jobs, often juggling three shifts a day. Eventually, I collapsed from sheer exhaustion and died while making a delivery run. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day I was expelled from the mansion. The first thing I did with the two hundred dollars was buy a train ticket to my grandparents’ house. If you won’t let me mooch off you… Then none of us will! 1 I found myself standing in the familiar, yet chillingly cold, living room of the mansion. My father, Victor Caldwell, stood opposite me, his gaze entirely devoid of warmth. There was only unconcealed disappointment and a deep-seated annoyance. My half-brother, Jace Caldwell, slouched on the expensive leather sofa, one leg crossed over the other, a smirk of malicious glee playing on his lips. My stepmother, Sibyl Sinclair, stood at my father’s side, one hand resting on his arm in a show of concern. With the other, she was gently dabbing at tears that weren’t there with a tissue. “You’ve graduated from college, you’re a grown man. Do you plan on just idling around, waiting for the world to hand you a living?” Victor’s voice was like chips of ice, every word a solid blow to my chest. “I didn’t feed and clothe you for two decades just so you could be an unproductive piece of trash, a freeloader!” Sibyl immediately cut in with fake solicitude: “Victor, don’t talk about Kellan that way.” “Kellan is still young, just starting out. He doesn’t know anything.” “If you rush him out so quickly, what if he can’t take care of himself? It breaks my heart to think about it…” Her words, though seemingly meant to soothe, were meant only to fan the flames. Predictably, Victor’s temper flared even higher. He flung Sibyl’s hand away and jabbed a finger right into my face. “Young? He’s twenty-two! What are you talking about?” “Kids from poor families start working after high school to support their families!” “I put food on your plate, gave you clothes on your back, and paid for your college education. My duty is done!” “Starting today, you’re on your own. Get out and make a life for yourself!” With that, he yanked two bills from his wallet and violently slapped them across my cheek. “Two hundred bucks. That’s enough to tide you over until you find a job! Don’t you dare say I didn’t help you!” The floodgates of memory burst open. In my last life, I had listened to those harsh words, seen Jace’s delighted smile and Sibyl’s performance, and felt nothing but righteous fury and injustice. I argued vehemently, insisting I needed time to find a job after graduation, explaining that the world wasn’t as simple as they imagined. I even brought up the student loans—loans Father had insisted I take out, saying it would “keep me focused” during my college years. The response was a thunderous slap. It was heavy and brutal, stunning me into silence. My cheek instantly swelled, my ears rang, and I tasted the metallic tang of blood in my mouth. I stared at Victor in disbelief. The man who once carried me on his shoulders now looked at me with cold disgust. Sibyl pretended to gasp and rushed to intervene, while Jace barely managed to stifle a laugh. That moment was the complete shattering of my dignity, the bleak starting point of my miserable last life. I was tossed out with my humiliation and those two hundred dollars, beginning a dark, relentless struggle that ended on the side of a road… This time, I didn’t argue. I took a deep breath, lifted my head, and met my enraged father’s eyes with a calm that was utterly foreign to him. “Yes, Dad. I understand.” “Before I leave, I just have one question.” “When Jace graduates, will you do the same thing to him?” “Will you hand him two hundred dollars and kick him out of this house to fend for himself?” 2 The living room fell into a sudden, deadly silence. Victor froze, then his face turned a ghastly shade of white. Jace’s smile vanished, and he instinctively sat up straight. Sibyl shrieked, “Kellan! What are you talking about? What does this have to do with your brother?” Victor lunged forward like a lion whose tail had been stepped on. “You ungrateful little bastard!” Instead of another slap, he grabbed my suitcase with a crude jerk. He threw it with all his might out of the open front door, like it was a piece of trash. The suitcase hit the concrete driveway with a dull thud. The latches sprang open, and a few of my faded, worn clothes spilled out. “Get out! Get out now!” “I don’t have a son like you!” He stood there, chest heaving, pointing frantically at the door. Jace raised his phone, openly snapping pictures. His face was a mask of excitement, as if he were watching an incredibly entertaining show. Sibyl gently rubbed Victor’s back, cooing, “Victor, don’t get so worked up. He’s not worth it.” “The boy is foolish; we’ll teach him slowly…” But the flash of triumph in her eyes did not escape me. I silently gathered my scattered clothes, picked up my college diploma, and carefully brushed the dust off the cover. Then, clutching the two wrinkled hundred-dollar bills, I straightened my spine and walked, one step at a time, away from this grand, yet utterly devoid of warmth, “home.” Behind me, I heard Victor’s continued, angry roaring, Sibyl’s feigned comfort, and Jace’s barely suppressed low laughter. The wrought-iron gate of the estate slowly closed behind me with a heavy clank, separating two worlds. The sunlight was harsh. I squinted, looking at the distant city traffic. This time, I wouldn’t be the blind fool of the last life, rushing headlong into the bottom rung of society, letting cheap labor drain my life away. Two hundred dollars was enough. Enough to buy a train ticket back to my grandparents. If you won’t let me mooch, then neither will you! After hours of travel, I finally arrived in the small town, full of the scent of earth and the warmth I remembered. Grandpa Robert (“Bob”) was sitting on his porch swing, rolling a cigarette. Grandma Martha was busy in the kitchen. The smoke from the wood stove curled into the sky, carrying the unique, delicious aroma of home cooking. “Kellan? What are you doing back here?” Grandpa looked up, surprised, then a flicker of confusion crossed his wrinkled face. Grandma heard his voice and came out, wiping her hands on her apron, her eyes crinkling into a warm smile. “Oh, my sweet boy is home! Come in, come in! Have you eaten? Grandma is making scrambled eggs just for you!” Seeing the genuine, unreserved joy in their faces, my heart swelled, and my eyes stung with unshed tears. At the dinner table, as my grandparents constantly piled food onto my plate and asked after me, I didn’t hold anything back. I recounted my experience exactly as it happened, without exaggeration. Grandma’s eyes welled up as she listened, gripping my hand tightly. “My poor baby… your father is just… just completely out of his mind!” Grandpa listened in silence, his face growing darker, the veins on the back of his hand bulging. When I repeated Victor’s line—”If he can’t make something of himself, I won’t call him my son”—he slammed his fist onto the table with a loud thud. “That son of a bitch!” Grandpa shot up, his chest heaving. “Victor Caldwell, he thinks he’s something special, does he? How dare he treat my grandson this way?” He pulled out his old flip phone and dialed Victor’s number. The moment it connected, he roared into the receiver: “Victor Caldwell! Get your sorry self back here now! Now! Immediately!” Victor on the other end seemed to try and explain something. Grandpa didn’t give him a chance, hanging up the phone immediately. A few hours later, Victor’s Maybach pulled up outside Grandpa’s rural farmhouse. He frowned as he got out, his face etched with impatience. “Dad, why the emergency? I have work back at the office.” When he saw me sitting next to my grandparents, a look of displeasure and dawning comprehension crossed his face. “What is it?” Grandpa fought to suppress his fury. “I’ll tell you what it is! I’m asking you, is this how you treat your own flesh and blood?” “Kicking him out the day after he graduates with two hundred dollars?” “Have you completely lost your mind?” A flash of guilt and embarrassment crossed Victor’s face, but it was quickly replaced by self-righteous indignation. “Dad, I’m doing this for his own good!” “It’s called ‘tough love,’ the most prevalent parenting philosophy in the world!” “He’s twenty-two! A man! Should he keep living at home as a mooch? Kids in other countries are independent by eighteen. I’m already late on this!” 3 He spoke with great eloquence, as if he were an expert in child psychology. Grandma shot him a sideways glance. “Tough love? I think that snake Sibyl is the one who put you up to this!” “She can’t stand Kellan, so you go along with her, tormenting my grandson?” Victor’s face changed, and he immediately denied it. “Mom! What are you saying?” “This has nothing to do with Sibyl! It was my decision entirely.” “And Jace is my son too. I’ll treat them both equally in the future, I promise!” He said this with absolute certainty. As if he hadn’t completely lost his temper when I brought up Jace just yesterday. “Equally?” Grandpa Bob let out a cold laugh, full of irony and disappointment. “Fine. ‘Equally,’ you say! Victor Caldwell, you’ve gotten awfully big for your boots, using some foreign parenting fad to turn against your own son.” Grandpa stood up, his gaze like a torch. “Since you believe that once a child is an adult, he shouldn’t be managed and should rely on himself…” “Then fine, I ask you, how old are you this year?” Victor was taken aback, not grasping Grandpa’s meaning. “Fifty-three… Dad, why do you ask?” “Fifty-three. Much older than twenty-two, isn’t it!” Grandpa’s voice suddenly rose. “You go on and on about your son not mooching, but what about you?” “That mansion you live in, the three prime rental properties you collect rent from every month, even the seed money for your company—how much of that did you earn?” “Wasn’t it all built from the ground up by me?” Victor’s face went white instantly. He seemed to sense what was coming and hurriedly said, “Dad, that… that’s not the same! I’m your son. All these businesses will eventually be…” “Eventually?” Grandpa cut him off, his tone glacial. “There is no eventually! You think relying on your parents is shameful and independence is necessary?” “I’ll grant you your wish!” “Starting today, I’ll notify the tenants of those three properties to deposit the rent directly into your mother’s account.” “And the mansion you live in? I’m taking that back, too!” “The three of you, go find your own place to live and be independent!” The words hit Victor like a lightning bolt. He was stunned. He could no longer maintain the facade of his “parenting philosophy.” His face was covered in panic and disbelief. “Dad! You can’t do this!” “I’m your only son! How can you take the family property back?” “This… how are we supposed to live? The company’s cash flow relies on that rent!” He rushed forward, his voice a mixture of pleading and confusion, a stark contrast to the high-minded father of just hours ago. Grandpa looked at his desperate, ugly face, his disappointment deepening, leaving only cold resolve. “Only son? You remember you’re my son now?” “Did you remember you were my son when you were kicking my grandson out?” “You’re in your fifties! You force your newly graduated son to be independent, yet you happily live off the wealth I built?” “Victor Caldwell, have you no shame?” “Get out! Get out now! Take your philosophy with you, and go be ‘independent’!” Victor stood frozen, his color cycling from white to green to red. He looked at Grandpa’s freezing face, then at Grandma’s tear-filled yet resolute eyes, and finally, his gaze settled on me. His expression was complex: anger, resentment, and perhaps a faint, barely perceptible flicker of regret? The air hung heavy for a few seconds. “Dad, Mom, I… I was wrong.” Victor’s voice was dry, a strained attempt at conciliation. “I was foolish, I didn’t think it through. I shouldn’t have treated Kellan like that.” 4 Grandpa looked at him coldly, remaining silent. Grandma turned her face away, wiping the corner of her eye. Seeing the situation wasn’t improving, Victor quickly turned to me. “Kellan, your father was wrong. I was just too eager for you to succeed.” “Please… don’t take it to heart. I promise I’ll change and be a better father to you!” He spoke earnestly, his eyes full of what seemed like sincerity. But I remembered the last life clearly. The rain was heavy that day. I was riding my scooter when a sudden, sharp pain in my chest made me lose control and crash onto the side of the road. My vision blurred. Rain and mud poured into my nose and mouth. In my last flickering moment of consciousness, I saw a familiar black Maybach slow to a stop five feet away due to traffic. The window lowered, and I saw my father. His gaze casually swept over me, without stopping, without confusion, without the slightest ripple of emotion. It was like seeing a dying stray dog on the roadside. The window went up, and when the light turned green, the car sped away. The promises spilling from his mouth now were nauseatingly fake to me. He was giving in, not because he recognized his error, but because Grandpa had cut off his financial lifeline. Once the crisis passed, he would revert to his old self, or perhaps even intensify his cruelty because of today’s humiliation. Unfortunately, my grandparents were ultimately soft-hearted. Grandpa snorted. “You know you were wrong now? What took you so long?” “Victor Caldwell, I’m telling you, this is the last time!” “If you ever dare to mistreat my grandson again, I will change my will immediately. I’ll donate everything, and you won’t get a single penny!” Victor, reprieved, nodded rapidly. “Never again, absolutely never again!” “Don’t worry, I promise I’ll turn over a new leaf.” Before leaving, I said I wanted to buy something at the town store and asked Grandpa to walk with me for a bit… Back in the city, Victor asked me to move back into the mansion and arranged for me to take a middle management position at the company. The following days were calm. Sibyl and Jace greeted me with smiles. But I knew the undercurrents were strong beneath the peaceful surface. At the company’s annual Fall Gala, I was toasted by management until I felt woozy and slipped into an empty private room next door to rest. As I was drifting off, the door was suddenly shoved open. A strange woman rushed in and, before I could react, began to scream. “Help! Rape!” At the same time, she aggressively tore at her own skirt and stockings, exposing her pale legs. My drunken haze instantly evaporated. Before I could process what was happening, Sibyl rushed in with several colleagues and pinned me down. The room erupted into chaos. Someone immediately called the police. Victor was the last to arrive when the officers got there. He stood beside the police, his face a picture of distress. “Officers, this is my failure as a father.” “I never imagined he would do such a thing. Please process this according to the law. I will not interfere.” “He should serve whatever sentence he deserves. The Caldwell family will not harbor a disgrace like this!” Sibyl pointed at me, tears streaming down her face. “Officer, he’s always been bad! When he was a child, he… he used to peep on the maid in the shower!” “I was too scared to say anything, but now I’m terrified to think about it!” Jace instantly backed her up. “I saw it too! I saw my brother stealing the maid’s stockings!” “And his computer is full of porn and shady websites!” The mother and son’s accusations caused a commotion. Colleagues began to whisper. “You can’t judge a book by its cover. He seemed so normal.” “I noticed him staring at the women’s legs in the office! Now he’s drunk, the real colors show. He’s clearly a pervert!” “With a son like this, no wonder Victor Caldwell is acting like a saint.” “It’s dangerous to work with a man like this. Kellan Blackwood belongs in jail!” The murmurs weren’t loud, but I heard them clearly. An officer approached. Just as the handcuffs were about to be clamped onto my wrists, I spoke calmly. “Officer, before you take me, I request to make a phone call.” Victor sneered, crossing his arms. “A phone call? It won’t help, no matter who you call!” “Don’t bother with your grandfather. Not even God himself can save you now!” Jace snickered, his eyes filled with contempt. “Bro, stop struggling. Just confess and maybe you’ll get a shorter sentence.” I ignored them both, speaking clearly, word by word. “According to procedure, I have the right to notify family or legal counsel before being subjected to mandatory measures.” The officer hesitated for a second, then nodded. “Fine. Make the call.” Under the varied stares of everyone in the room, I pulled out a wrinkled piece of paper—a scrap from Grandpa’s tobacco pouch. When he saw the number on the paper, Victor’s eyes narrowed suddenly.

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I squatted outside the hospital doors, finishing the last bite of a day-old flatbread, before finally dialing my granddaughter’s number. She was the golden ticket out of Red Rock County, the only one who’d flown out the second she got her college acceptance and never looked back. The only letter she’d sent informed me she was cutting ties, but she would wire my support payment every year. The line clicked open. I had meant to tell her I was sick, that soon I’d forget who she was—a joke to finally give her some peace. But the words caught in my throat, twisting into the familiar, bitter demand: “…Ella, when are you going to send this month’s money?” A cold laugh hissed from the other end. “Getting soft in the head, old man? I wired it at the beginning of the month, just like always. What is it, not enough for the coffin fund yet?” I leaned against the hospital flower bed, a thin stream of saliva running down the corner of my mouth. Ella was a success, all right. Our county’s finest. She even knew I needed a coffin. … Ella’s grown-up voice was nothing like the little girl’s. Squatting there, I suddenly remembered walking her to the village school when she was six. She’d clung to my legs, shaking, her tiny voice choked with sobs: “Grandpa, I… I’m scared…” Her voice had been soft, just like her mother’s, sweet and sticky like slow-dripping molasses. Now, this voice. It was cold. It was hard. If she pitched it right, it could probably leave a bruise. I peeled my lips back, letting the drool slide down my chin. Yeah. This was the voice of a phoenix that had flown out of the dust. Crisp. Efficient. Unapologetic. I swallowed. A strange surge of pride made my throat ache. “Ella, your voice… it changed.” There was a brief pause on the line. When she spoke again, the tone was the same, perhaps even colder. “Let’s stick to business. The money is there. Just check your balance and don’t call me again.” I mumbled, “Oh.” I wanted to say something else. Tell her about the awful noise from Cal, the County Official’s new motorcycle, or how the wild magnolias on the back hill were late blooming this year, or how my mind was getting foggier by the day, how after over a decade, I could barely remember her face. But the words died before they reached my lips. It wouldn’t be right to tell Ella any of that. “Alright then. That’s that.” I tried to mimic her clipped tone, making an abrupt end to the call. The dial tone buzzed in my ear as I slowly pushed myself up. My legs were asleep, and I stumbled. Cal, the County Official, who’d driven me here, caught my arm. He sighed. “Hank, why didn’t you tell her anything?” He pulled out his own phone. “Let me call her back. Just tell her about the sickness. Someone needs to know, Uncle Hank.” I slapped his hand away, my voice booming with a strength I no longer had. “Tell her what? The city doctors say this damn thing is a losing battle! Why bring her back here?” The wind kicked up, bringing the scent of hospital sanitizer and old fryer grease from a nearby food cart into my face. I sniffled, suddenly remembering making flapjacks for Ella when she was small. She’d always complain about too much onion, pouting and refusing to eat it. Now, I wondered if Ella still ate grease-soaked flatbread. Cal steadied me, a look of exasperated pity on his face. “Uncle Hank, your temper… no wonder my mother says you were stubborn as a mule when you were young.” I grunted. “Your mother’s right. Only the stubborn and the hard survive in this county.” Cal fell silent, pulling out a crumpled cigarette. “But you’re sick, you can’t just—” “Can’t just what?” I cut him off, straightening my back. “My Ella is a respectable woman now. She sits in an office with air conditioning. Why would I drag her back to this?” A siren wailed in the distance, a long, mournful sound that twisted my insides. “This county raises people, and it eats people. Her mama was the chewed-up husk left behind. Ella finally… finally flew away, her feathers clean and shining. What happens to me is my business. It has nothing to do with her.” “Come on. Let’s go back to the shack.” “My old place is still standing. When the time comes that I can’t move…” I didn’t finish the thought. When that time came, I’d take care of myself, clean and simple. That was the best way. The phoenix can fly as far as she wants, but she must never look back at this dirty, hard, thorny lump of earth. She had to stay clean and keep flying forward. She couldn’t end up like her mother, Violet. When I was seventeen, my parents arranged for me to take a bride, June, from a neighboring settlement. My folks made the call, and I had no say. The men in this part of the county were, mostly, awful. When I saw June arrive—her eyes full of fear and tears—I knew I couldn’t treat her like the other men treated their wives. I treated her like a person. I was good to her, believing life would eventually get better. A year later, we had a daughter, Violet. My Violet was a good girl from birth. I swore then that my Violet would not go down the same road as her mama. I didn’t know much, but I knew an education was the only way out. So I worked myself to death to keep her in school. She was smart, always at the top of her class. Her teacher said she could be the first girl in the county to go to a major university. I thought books could take her away, to a place I couldn’t see but knew was good. But when Violet was seventeen, on her walk home from school, she was cornered on the dirt path behind the hill by Roy, a trashy local who couldn’t get a decent wife. When I got the news, I grabbed my machete and ran to his place. My Violet, she was always so gentle and compliant. How could she have fought him off? But my own father grabbed me, wrestled me to the ground, and after a long silence, spat out a single sentence. “You’re bringing shame on us. If this gets out, how will our family ever show its face in this county again?” He told Violet she had to marry Roy. I went insane, lunging to kill that animal, but my father and my brothers pinned me down. My mother stood nearby, weeping, and June was nearly fainting from shock and grief. But in the end, my mother was the one who cried as she pleaded with me: “Let it go, son, let it go… Our girl is ruined now. If she marries him, at least she’ll have a roof over her head. It’s better than everyone pointing and whispering.” June looked at me, her eyes hollow with despair, her lips trembling, unable to speak. They had been worn down by this damn world, believing that a woman’s reputation was worth more than her life. But I didn’t agree! My father tied me up, strung me from the rafters, and whipped me with a belt. I cried and screamed, begging him to let Violet go, to send her away, anywhere. He didn’t listen. Violet stood nearby, utterly bloodless, her eyes empty. When they finally cut me down, she walked over, knelt by my side, and gently touched the wounds on my face. Then she said: “Daddy, stop fighting. I’ll marry him.” I’ll marry him. Those three words nailed me, and my Violet, to the coffin. Less than a year later, Violet was gone. She died giving birth. That day, it seemed like everyone in the county came by. They stood in my yard, cracking sunflower seeds and spitting. One said Violet had a low-born spirit, always trying to be some big scholar; she was cursed and it killed her. Another said a woman with no talent is virtuous, that she should have just married when she was supposed to, and that trying to get an education meant she deserved what happened to her on the way home. Later, I took a knife and went to that man, Roy. I gave him every last penny I had to take Violet’s daughter back. He despised Violet’s baby because it was a girl; he wanted to sell her off. But I didn’t care. She looked so much like Violet! Just one look at her, and my heart turned to bitter, burning ash. The baby didn’t cry or fuss. She just stared at the world that had swallowed her mother, her eyes wide and dark. I sat with her on the old plank bed where Violet used to sleep. My only thought was that I couldn’t let her become a second Violet. That thought burned like wildfire, drying up my tears and hardening my bones. I became the most fearsome mule-headed old man in the county, guarding her fiercely. The truck stopped at the edge of the county. Cal helped me out. “Uncle Hank, we’re home.” Home? I looked up at the familiar, yet alien, county, at the silent old oak tree by the road. This was never a home. It was a graveyard. It buried June, it buried my Violet, and it damn near buried Ella. Ella, like her mother, had a soft disposition from birth. And that was my biggest fear. It kept me awake all night, every night. I was terrified she was too pretty, that she would attract the wrong kind of attention, that she would be like her mother—swallowed whole, skin and bone, by this hungry place. I raised her in constant terror, never letting her out of my sight. But then one day, she was coming home from school. A group of men loafing by the county entrance gathered to mock her. “Well, lookie here, Ella’s growing up into a big girl.” “Yeah, couple more years and she’ll be ready for marrying.” Ella stood there, helpless, her face flaming red, unable to squeeze out a single word. The men laughed harder. One of them actually pushed his simple-minded, drooling son, who was squatting by his feet, toward Ella. “Ella, why don’t you be my boy’s wife? You give us a grandkid, and Uncle will treat you like a daughter.” I stood around the corner, watching her silently. Her lips trembled. Her body shook. But she couldn’t even utter a clear “No.” She couldn’t even find the strength to push away that dirty, grinning idiot who was rubbing against her. A surge of pure evil rage shot from my soles to the top of my head. I charged out, grabbed a porch stool, and slammed it down on those loose-lipped bastards. Ella screamed, her voice shaking, “Grandpa!” “You crazy old fool, Hank!” “You’re so old you’ll kick the bucket any day now! I was just offering to take Ella in so she’d be protected! I was helpingyou!” That last line made my heart clench. Yes, I was old. I might not be around to protect Ella. And then, she would surely go the same way her mother did. I looked at Ella, who was crying so silently you could barely hear her. At that moment, I made a decision. She had to learn to be covered in thorns, to protect herself. I was too old. I was running out of time. That evening after dinner, I held her down and hacked off her hair into a choppy mess. I stuffed all her little dresses into the stove. She cried hysterically, but she only shrank into herself, just calling “Grandpa” over and over. I refused to give her a moment’s tenderness. She started working harder around the house, trying to appease me. She’d sneak glances at me, her eyes void of resentment, filled only with an almost primal dependence and submission. But the more she tried to please me, the more timid she became, and the more hateful things I spat at her. I wanted to see her leap up—to point her finger and curse me, even to throw something at me. Anger was life; it was a shield. What terrified me was her gentle, compliant nature. In this poor, hungry place, that was a weakness that would get her eaten alive. I began to escalate my methods. I brought home a large, black dog from the next county over. Ella had been afraid of dogs since she was small. She backed against the wall, pale-faced, looking at me with pleading eyes. I released the leash without a word. The black dog snarled and lunged toward her. Ella’s scream caught in her throat. She kept calling for Grandpa to save her. I stood in the doorway, my hand resting on the rough wooden frame, my nails digging in until they hurt. Ella finally choked on her screams. She looked at me one last time, then abruptly squeezed her eyes shut. Her hand scrabbled along the wall until she found the heavy wooden plank we used as a carrying pole. She swung it with all her might at the dog’s head. In that instant, my body went slack, and the broken nails on my fingers stung. Ella slowly opened her eyes and looked at me again. But this time, I knew something in her eyes had changed. Ella’s need to please was gone, replaced by a cold silence and avoidance. The stone in my own heart finally settled. She no longer needed my lessons. She was hardening. I caught her once. That worthless local from the next county was whistling at Ella while she hung laundry. The fury flared up in my chest instantly. I grabbed the plank by the wall, ready to rush out. But Ella was faster. She picked up the empty wooden basin at her feet and slammed it hard into the man’s side. The sputter of the motorcycle engine stalled for a moment, then revved up in annoyance, and the man sped away, weaving down the road. I stood there, the plank raised, frozen. Ella went inside, expressionless. She hadn’t said a word. But I saw it: the ice in her eyes. Tears welled in my own eyes at that moment. But I was also strangely elated. Even without me, my Ella could protect herself. Ella went to high school, smart as her mother. Her teachers said if she kept up her grades, she was guaranteed a university spot. A new round of gossip started in the county. The same things they’d said about Violet. They said Ella was cursed, that she was aiming too high, and would likely fall to her death like her mother. That day, I went door-to-door with my machete, leaving a slash mark on the doors of a dozen houses. Finally, I stood at the county entrance, my throat hoarse as I yelled: “The way my Violet died—everyone in this county knows the truth! Some of your tongues tasted my daughter’s blood back then, and now you want to lick my granddaughter clean?” “I’m telling you! Half my body is already in the dirt! If any of you so much as think about messing with Ella, I will wipe out your whole damn family! Try me!” The county went silent. But the next day, I went to the little town where Ella went to school. I found a job washing dishes. I had to be closer to her. Every night, in the deep dark, I’d curl up on a makeshift bed of benches and slowly, painstakingly, count the money I’d earned. Ella would need even more money when she went to the big city. Ella was a quick study. Her grades were stellar. She was braver now. I kept wishing for the day she would fly far, far away. But then, Ella’s teacher contacted me through Cal.

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I knew very early on that I was the Fake Heiress in a “Switched at Birth” novel. But the most important person in my life was never that rich CEO. It was the True Heiress who saved me from deep waters. But now. Her kidney was dug out, her corpse lying lonely on the operating table. Her most loved husband stood aside without a word. And my lover was gently coaxing the woman who caused all this, telling me not to be crazy. I looked at them, thinking. From today on, they will know what a real madwoman is! … Chapter 1 When I learned from abroad that Serena was undergoing surgery, I immediately booked the earliest flight back to New York. But what greeted me was only a cold corpse. I stood blankly by the operating table, fingers tightly gripping the bed rail, quietly looking at the corpse of the woman I loved most in this life. I raised my hand to lift the white cloth covering her, hand trembling uncontrollably. Her chest was empty, the position of the kidney only left a bloody hole, mottled blood stains on her body seemed to tell me the inhuman treatment she suffered before death. My throat seemed to be strangled by something, breathing became difficult, eyes also pitch black. “How could it be like this?…” I mumbled to myself, turned to look at Quentin. This man who told me he would make Serena happy for a lifetime, this man I entrusted Serena to with confidence. And at this moment Quentin squatted at the operating room door, face pale, eyes empty, like lost his soul. I walked fast to him, fiercely slapped him several times: “What exactly did you do?” And at this time a woman suddenly appeared, grabbed my hand preparing to continue slapping, screamed out: “Don’t hit Quentin, everything is my fault.” I lifted eyes to look at her, she cried out: “Blame me, is I have kidney disease, I need Sister Serena’s kidney, but didn’t expect… didn’t expect surgery failed, all my fault, don’t blame Quentin.” Hearing these, I just coldly looked at her, this look of pitiful appearance no wonder let Quentin want to change kidney to save her. “What thing are you? Roll far away.” I threw away her hand, continue fiercely slapping Quentin. Quentin silent not speak, just blindly taking beatings. At this time this woman actually knelt to me, crying shouted grabbed my thigh: “All my fault, you don’t be like this.” When I wanted to kick her down with one foot, a man suddenly appeared grabbed my hand: “Scarlett, are you done yet?” Then helped up the woman on ground, I looked at him, heart gradually cold down. I coldly looked at this man in front of eyes — my lover, Julian Vance. He at this moment face full of gentleness supporting the woman on ground, eyes full of heartache and concern. “Julian, do you know what you are doing?” I looked at him, voice also like frozen cold. “Scarlett, Serena is already dead, what can you do if you are not satisfied? Now things already happened, Hailey also apologized, you making scene again also useless, right?” “Then I now want to take out her kidney, return to Serena, do you think okay?” I looked at his eyes, coldly asked. Julian silent not speak. “Seems you really care about this woman! Even if Serena died on operating table, you two protect her like this.” I turned to look at Quentin behind who already had no soul, fiercely said. Then I looked at Hailey still hiding behind Julian, she seemed burned by my eyes, whispered crying: “Sister Scarlett, I really didn’t mean to, I just wanted to live.” “Shut up!” I suddenly raised hand, wanted to slap over, but wrist grabbed by Julian. His strength very big, gripping my hand very painful. “Scarlett, you really don’t be crazy again!” Julian’s voice carried warning. “Good.” I looked at him threw off his hand, firmly said. Then I turned walked to operating table side, looking at Serena above, that bloody hole on her chest like a knife, fiercely stabbed into my heart. I reached hand gently touched her face, used voice only we two can hear said: “Serena, you rest assured, I definitely will make all people who hurt you pay price.” Just like long ago she said to me she would protect me for a lifetime, said won’t let me receive a bit hurt that firm. I gently picked up Serena’s corpse, her body cold and stiff, as if telling me her unwillingness. I prepared to hold her walk out operating room, but blocked by a figure: “Based on what you take her away, she is my lover.” Voice issued exactly from Quentin who had no soul till now. “Quentin, did you already forget? Before Serena died already submitted divorce request with you, you already no longer her lover.” Quentin still wanted say something, but blocked by Hailey figure, could only give up. I took Serena’s corpse came to our former home, here still so beautiful, just person fighting with me now changed appearance. I gently put her corpse into cold storage, beside full of her favorite flowers, as if she just fell asleep. Looking at her face, I actually started recalling past. I since small not obedient child, others as long as did bad thing to me, I definitely will double pay back. Like seven years old that year, our neighbor’s kid for fun, threw my schoolbag into roadside pond, I wordless walked into cold pond picked up schoolbag. Next day, I pushed this kid into pond, let him also feel coldness. Parents rushed come time, only saw my indifferent incomparable eyes. Since then, kids in our villa area no longer dare provoke me, my parents also more and more cold to me. Twelve years old that year, parents brought back Serena, I then knew, I never was their biological daughter, I probably is vicious Fake Heiress described in novels. But Serena never gave up on me, even I before robbed her parents love to her, even after she came back I countless times bullied her, she would also always follow behind me call me Sister. This time I then knew, even I time and time ignore her, she still whole heart whole intention trust me. Past me always full of hate to this world, but Serena would again and again grab my hand, tell me as long as have her, I will forever happy. After adult, our parents died due to accident, I alone propped up family company. At this time, many people persuaded Serena, said I am outsider, is want rob Shen Family property, these people all driven away by her with broom. Until she met Quentin, she became happy blissful, seeing them two love each other, I then unwillingly handed Serena to Quentin. I thought Serena would be happy for a lifetime, but didn’t expect what I got was only a cold corpse. Chapter 2 Passed a day, I directly took people went to Quentin and Serena’s previous home. No longer care still lost soul Quentin, directly let people organize Serena’s things before death one by one, put in yard. Her diary, photos, her favorite clothes, even gifts Quentin gave her before. Quentin saw my action, but didn’t stop, just eyes empty stood aside, as if a walking corpse. “Do you know? Quentin?” I coldly looked at him, holding a lighter in hand: “Serena once said to me, her life biggest happiness was meeting you, she believed you would treat her good for a lifetime, she wanted to go down with you forever.” Hearing this, Quentin’s body slightly trembled, lips moved, but didn’t emit sound. “But you?” I lit lighter, flame rapidly burned those items. “What did you give her? You gave her a cold corpse, a bloody hole.” Quentin’s tears finally flowed down, he knelt down in front of flame, hands covering face, voice hoarse said: “Sorry, is me sorry Serena.” “Sorry.” I sneered: “You think your one sentence sorry can make up everything? Serena already died, she never will come back. And you! Quentin, all this is caused by you.” I stepped forward, fiercely grabbed Quentin’s hair, looked at him with hateful eyes: “Serena before death last moment, still thought you would save her, still thought you would like you promised protect her forever, but you? For a woman, even not hesitate hurt Serena, is you, personally killed Serena.” Quentin’s hair was rawly pulled up by me, he could only look up at me, his eyes full of despair and pain: “I really didn’t know would be like this, I just wanted to save Hailey, I really didn’t expect.” “You just wanted to save Hailey?” I let go his hair, interrupted his words: “Then Serena’s life not important? Her life can be casually sacrificed?” “No, no.” Quentin desperately shook head, but voice more and more low: “I didn’t want sacrifice her, I just, just…” I no longer listen his nonsense, just looking at burning flame, tears slowly flowed down. Flame burning Serena’s relics, emitting sizzling sound, like her silent accusation, and Quentin’s crying sound slowly became hoarse, echoing in empty yard. I looked at Quentin this appearance, threw one item on ground, is Serena’s pregnancy certificate. “Do you know? Is Hailey you fought life want save killed your child.” Then I watched him like crazy picked up that certificate, sneered out sound: “Quentin, you deserve it! Person like you not worthy be with Serena.” Finished I turned leave, only left Quentin alone kneeling in front of flame, holding that certificate, painfully crying. Chapter 3 After leaving Quentin’s home, I found all information about Hailey. I found she suddenly appeared beside us, if say me and Serena story like True Fake Heiress novel, hers like white flower growth story. Inexplicably only associate degree Hailey became Quentin’s life assistant, started love kill with Quentin, from inside also knew my husband Julian. I looked at these materials, how also can’t understand always loved Serena Quentin how would like woman like Hailey, even for her, not hesitate everything. Before even for Hailey, moved hand to his business partner for many years, just because partner said a sentence Hailey is seducing mistress. I looked at these, instead fell into silence. Then I immediately found that person beaten by Quentin, from his mouth learned turns out Hailey before always was others mistress, so she was arranged into Quentin’s company, became assistant. Seeing Quentin’s money, she immediately dumped previous person, hooked up Quentin, I also got Hailey and her ex photos from him. Then I immediately sent this photo in Quentin’s company group chat, let everyone know Hailey’s nature. Not only this, I also let people send a file to Quentin’s hand, inside detailed recorded evidence how Hailey secretly bullied Serena, from it can find, Hailey not once slander Serena behind back, even many times create misunderstanding, let Quentin produce suspicion to Serena. Among them also a surveillance video, inside completely recorded video of Hailey knowing Serena pregnant, unhesitatingly pushed Serena down stairs. When Serena wanted tell this matter to Quentin, but was told by Quentin want Serena change kidney to Hailey. Quentin saw these after, immediately contacted me, questioned me file truth, when he heard my affirmative answer, he immediately crazy like went find Hailey. I also went to Hailey’s residence, want watch a good show. When I rushed there, they two were arguing, same time I also saw here my husband Julian who I haven’t seen since operating room. Quentin always angrily questioning Hailey, she at start still quibbling, but in front of evidence, she finally collapsed, admitted everything. “All done by me so what?” Hailey hysterical said: “Based on what Serena own your everything? Based on what own happiness? I am the person should get everything!” Quentin heard this, no longer able control, reached hand want hit Hailey. However, just when his slap about to fall, Julian appeared grabbed his wrist, protected Hailey behind. “Quentin, you calm down a bit.” Julian said with warning voice. Quentin coldly looked at Julian, eyes full of anger and disappointment: “Julian, you till now still protecting her? Do you know what she did? She harmed dead Serena! Also harmed dead my child!” Julian face changed, but he still didn’t let go Quentin’s hand: “Now matter already happened, you pursue again also useless isn’t it? And did you forget? Back then was you let Serena change kidney to Hailey, don’t you have fault?” Quentin heard this, instead crazy laughed out sound: “I know is me wrong, I am also person harmed dead Serena, but you, Julian, you again are what good person? I at least dare admit, but you are a coward.” Then Quentin threw off his hand, looked at me standing far away, said to Julian: “You definitely will have retribution.” Finished turned leave, leaving they two stay in place. Till this time, Julian then discovered my existence, hurriedly came to my side, held my hand, somewhat annoyed said: “Scarlett, you listen me explain, thing not you think like this.” I looked at his pale face, smilingly said: “Julian, looks like you really are a coward, even like Hailey dare not admit, you also really make me disgusting.” Then I also left, no longer care Julian retaining eyes. Because I had a more significant discovery, just now when Julian and Quentin arguing, I heard Hailey talking to a blank space, seemed saying: “System, now what should I do ah?” Moment heard Hailey mention “System”, my brain flashed countless possibilities. System? Could it be her everything behavior have some power support? These all let me feel very absurd. But Hailey sudden appearance also very strange, and she even can make Quentin and Julian both dead heart fall ground to her, these unreasonable places, behind must have some power pushing. Just when I indulged in investigation, Julian suddenly found door, he looked very bad, very haggard. “Scarlett, you now noise enough right? Continue like this good for no one isn’t it?” He looked at me with angry eyes. “Is it? But I still did nothing ne?” I cold eyes look him. “Isn’t you instructed Quentin against me?” Julian looked at me, seemed know self misunderstood something, then he eased tone, peace seeking like said to me: “Now Vance Group and Qin Group fell out, Quentin also like crazy target Vance Group, our cooperation projects also all called stop, stock price also plummeting. Continue like this, bad for Vance and Qin.” He held my hand, begging said: “Scarlett, you help me okay?” I raised eyebrow, tone indifferent: “But these with me have what relation? Didn’t you always protect Hailey? You can let her think way ah!” “These are all my fault, Scarlett, you don’t always blame Hailey, she is a good girl, forget it? Okay?” “Based on what forget it, Julian did you forget? When Vance Group because fund not in place, was me and Serena went find sponsorship pull investment for you, is us everyday drinking exchange for your current things, now based on your one sentence forget it, Serena just vainly died?” “Is you and Quentin forgot Serena’s deeds, you all sorry Serena, based on what want me forget it, now like this all you two self-inflicted! You give me roll!” Finished, I directly pushed Julian out, no longer ignore him. Then looking his leaving back view, I secretly swore. Julian, Quentin, Hailey they all sorry Serena, debts they committed to Serena, I will one by one calculate, one by one ask back from them.

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The day Dad brought “New Mom” home, he suddenly slapped me. “Tiffany has been trying to please you, but you bully her everywhere, causing her depression. Now you even throw away the peach she gave you, are you trying to force her to death?” I just wanted to explain I was allergic to peaches, but strings of bullet comments floated before my eyes: [Little Villain is acting up again! All day hindering male and female leads relationship, later will frame stepmom, causing leads almost divorce!] [Don’t be angry, this little brat’s ending is satisfying! In two years she will find out she is not CEO’s biological child, finally kicked out of house and die miserably on street!] What, I am actually the Little Villain in the story? Chapter 1 Seeing me stunned in place not speaking, new mom Tiffany red eyes held Dad’s hand. “Julian, forget it, child is still small, maybe not intentional, I should be more tolerant.” I recovered from those strange comments, looking at Tiffany pretending aggrieved opposite and Dad busy coaxing her. Grievance in heart bubbled up like bubbles. Dad said bringing new mom home, I specially arranged my favorite Barbie Dolls all over sofa, wanted to play with her. Didn’t expect just because I dodged that eaten peach, Dad got angry. Dad heartached holding back Tiffany’s hand, looking at me, doting in eyes usually long gone. “Lily, hurry explain to Auntie you not intentional, then sincerely apologize!” “Auntie recently because you refuse accept her, already very sad, doctor said she has depression tendency, you mess around again, her illness will be more serious!” At this time, those strange comments appeared again: [Wuwuwu, Little Tiffany really human bitter melon, childhood never felt family warmth, lucky met male lead who knows cherish her.] [Little Tiffany really so gentle ah, so patient to stepdaughter, still being targeted.] [Although know this bear kid is to push leads relationship, but still hate her, can let her be quiet!] I sadly pursed mouth tight. Gentle? If really gentle, how could let me be scolded by Dad just met? I looked at Dad I relied on for so many years, voice carrying crying tone: “Dad, you scold me for new mom?” Dad face stiff, look at me eyes full of impatience: “Lily, you grew up, should be sensible, don’t throw temper easily.” “You shouldn’t throw toy she gave you into pool last time, more shouldn’t smash bowl throw temper in today’s occasion.” More I thought more aggrieved, last time clearly was that doll broken arm, I then angry threw toy. I pointed at Tiffany said: “You said I threw toy? But clearly because that toy broken, is it you broke toy intentionally?” Tiffany wiping tears, small voice sobbing: “Julian, sorry, is me accidentally broke child’s toy…” Dad face colder: “Lily, Dad didn’t expect you so insensible, since you don’t want apologize now, then go back your room calm down first!” “Wait when you realize mistake, sincerely apologize to Auntie, then come out!” Finished, he supported Tiffany to living room sofa sit. I looked at full table favorite Sweet and Sour Pork Ribs and Fried Chicken Wings, tears spinning in eye sockets. Suddenly remembered comments said, I ran to Dad’s room, secretly took few hairs on comb, ran to mirror pulled one my hair. I want know, am I Dad’s biological child. Chapter 2 Next day, I secretly put tissue wrapped mine and Dad’s hairs into pants pocket, heart up and down slipped out of house. Taking advantage of Kindergarten nap time, I ran to community clinic at gate, tiptoed handed tissue pack to auntie wearing white coat: “Auntie, can help me check, me and Dad are biological or not?” Nurse auntie smilingly touched my head: “Little friend, this needs Mom and Dad come together then can oh.” I disappointed clutching tissue pack walked out outpatient hall, but saw Tiffany walking in from outside. She also saw me, face flashed a trace surprise. I turned head didn’t want care her, pretended not see continue walk out. Just then, Tiffany phone rang. She picked up phone, listening listening, face “Swoosh” became pale, hand trembling. She just hung up, I just want speed up run away, she however fierce rushed over, grabbed my arm, then “Plop” kneeled on concrete floor in front of me. I scared stunned in place, she already started crying shout: “Little friend, Auntie knows wrong! Auntie shouldn’t be with your Dad!” “Beg you forgive Auntie, don’t let your Dad drive me away okay?” I completely confused, didn’t know which play she acting again. I was baffling, both angry and anxious, those annoying comments like flies surrounded again: [God, female lead father just called said medical fee not enough going to stop medicine!] [This Little Villain too hateful, actually force stepmom kneel!] [Male lead quick come see your daughter’s good deed!] Tiffany crying shout attracted more onlookers. Adults looking at us, pointing fingers, discussion one after another. “Current kids how so powerful, dare let adult kneel?” “Must be spoiled by family, no breeding at all.” “Stepmom is also mom, this child too outrageous!” I angry face red, try hard want throw off her hand: “You lie! I simply didn’t let Dad drive you away!” Tiffany cried whole body trembling, paralyzed on ground mumbling: “Useless… your Dad listens you most, you say don’t like me, he definitely won’t want me…” Comments started scrolling again: [Heart ache stepmom, met such a bear kid!] [Little Villain hurry go offline, annoying looking!] [Stepmom eyes cried swollen, really so miserable!] [Little Villain die bad death!] Surrounding adults more and more excited: “Whose child also not manage!” “So small so vicious, grow up how terrible!” “Quick apologize to your stepmom!” I was surrounded in middle, various ugly words and phone cameras facing me, scared and helpless, tears unpromising flowed down. I try hard break Tiffany hand grabbing my arm, “You lying, you framing me, let go me!” I try hard hold back tears, use phone watch call Uncle Lee. Uncle Lee quickly brought security over. Seeing security, crowd quarreled more fierce: “Rich family kid just bullying ah!” “So small know call security bully people!” Tiffany sitting on ground suddenly light laughed once, tears non-stop falling down. Just then, an angry voice came from door: “What are you doing to my daughter!” Chapter 3 Crowd quiet down, automatically made a way. Dad fast step rushed in, saw Tiffany kneeling on ground crying, actually angry pulled me back! I completely no defense, pushed by him stumble back few steps, butt fell on ground, elbow and butt fell painful, then “Wah” cried out. I sat on ground look up, saw Dad angry red face: “How I told you yesterday? Want you get along well with Auntie, why you bully her again?” “Why you just can’t accept Auntie Tiffany?” Surrounding people watching fun started pointing again, saying what “Not discipline now, later is society scourge” kind ugly words. Maybe because yesterday Dad’s partiality, and those strange comments said “Not biological”, let small me heart also had knot. Pushed and shouted by Dad like this, besides pain and fear, more is a kind unspeakable grievance. I just want climb up, far away from them. But I fell too painful, momentarily can’t stand up, had to continue sitting on ground crying. Lift teary eyes, Dad angry twisted face and those floating comments all became blurry. [Great male lead came! Female lead saved!] [Wuwuwu, lucky Dad is sensible, didn’t spoil this bad girl!] Dad saw my tears spinning in eye sockets, stunned a bit, seemed bit regret, just want reach hand pull me, Tiffany cried more severe. I sniffed nose, carrying crying tone ask: “Dad, you believe all words she said, right?” Dad frowned tight: “I just saw live stream on phone, you still want lie?” “If you still want stay in this home, not allowed bully Auntie Tiffany again!” He heartached helped up Tiffany, look not look me once. That Dad said I am his most loved baby, want forever protect me, now for others treat me like this. Tiffany leaning in Dad arms sobbing, heard Dad words, lift teary eyes, take advantage Dad not see, showed a bright, proud look to me. Those strange words still praising Dad and Stepmom are true love. Dad holding Tiffany, saw she seems uncomfortable, prepared take her see doctor. He turned back looked me once, tone stiff said: “Can cry then stand up yourself, go home settle account with you!” Finished, he half holding Tiffany walked to emergency room direction. Onlookers saw no fun to watch, also slowly scattered. I myself hard climbed up from ground, clothes dirty, elbow also scraped bit skin. I used phone watch sent help message to Uncle Lee, closed eyes didn’t want look again. Uncle Lee hurriedly came, saw my scraped palm, hurry called nurse auntie help me disinfect bandage. While nurse auntie putting Band-Aid on me, I small voice said to Uncle Lee: “Uncle, can help me ask for today gate surveillance?” Uncle Lee nodded, but face difficult. He hesitated long time, then small voice said: “Little Miss, just now matter posted online by people, many people scolding you… and your Dad.” I not surprised at all: “It’s okay, let them say first.” Uncle Lee more anxious: “But continue like this, will affect your Dad company!” I thought of those strange words said I am not Dad’s biological child, handed tissue pack always clenched in hand to Uncle Lee: “Uncle, wait check result out, we show surveillance together to everyone, they will know who lying.” Uncle Lee just took tissue pack, clinic door suddenly pushed open, Dad stood at door, face ugly: “Surveillance can’t post!” Just then, nurse auntie holding a report walked in, gently said to me: “Little friend, you and Dad check result out.” Report bottom line clearly wrote: [Exclude biological parent-child relationship between Mr. Sterling and child.] I stared at that line for long long time, recognized word by word. “Biological parent-child relationship” these words I still not know, but “Exclude” and “Not exist” I understood. Turns out, I really am not Dad’s child… But, I clearly remember childhood Dad always said, I am little baby he held out from Mom belly ah. I thought of those strange subtitles said, I am child of Dad and other woman, heart more sad. Other kids all have mom, only I don’t have. Dad said Mom went very far very far place. Now, even Dad is not my real Dad? Dad snatched that small USB Drive from Uncle Lee hand, tone very tough: “This surveillance absolutely can’t post online, Auntie Tiffany just now just thought you really called me drive her out, then misunderstood you.” “If video posted, uncles aunts online don’t know truth, will scold Auntie Tiffany.” My mouth moved, passed good while then emitted small, carrying crying tone voice: “So?” So, I scolded by everyone as bad child it’s okay, but Auntie Tiffany can’t suffer grievance, is it? Dad voice slightly soft down a bit, “Baby, Auntie Tiffany she… recently mood very bad, she needs be taken care, you be sensible a bit…” His words like fine small needles, pricked my heart so uncomfortable. This moment, no matter he is my real Dad or not, his words let me feel so sad, like abandoned. “Plop” a tear fell on phone watch screen, halo open a small water stain. Dad somewhat flustered squatted down, reached hand want help me wipe tear. I turned head, dodged his hand, used sleeve hard wiped eyes myself. Dad voice bit hoarse, carrying bit coaxing meaning: “This time just wrong our baby a bit, okay? Dad promise you, later buy you that super big Transformer you want most, and a whole set Pokemon Cards, as compensation, okay?” Finished, he seemed suddenly thought something, hurry took out phone call Auntie Lin, let her come immediately. Auntie Lin soon came, eyes redder than just now, she always lowered head, refused look me. Dad held her hand, said to her: “Tiffany, just now matter is you misunderstood Lily, you apologize to child.” Tiffany fierce looked up, eyes full incredible. Those annoying words floated out again: [Wtf? Dad brain water entered? Actually let stepmom apologize to bear kid?] [But say back, stepmom just now indeed wronged kid…] [So what? If not this little ghost always trouble acting up, would stepmom be so sensitive? Besides, scolding people are those onlookers, what relation with our gentle stepmom?] Tiffany red eye sockets soon filled tears again. She stubbornly looked at Dad, voice carrying thick crying tone and grievance: “Hubby…” Dad seeing Tiffany this look, heartache almost full out. He reached hand want hug her, Tiffany however side body dodged. She turned to me, suddenly squatted down, almost bowed to me. “Little friend, sorry!” Voice trembling, but inside can hear a reluctant stubbornness. Dad heartached immediately helped her up, then turned to me, tone like finished a task. “Look, Auntie Tiffany apologized to you, this matter passed, you be obedient, Dad tonight back bring you delicious food, play with you, okay?” Finished, he couldn’t wait supported still softly sobbing Tiffany went out. Walked to ward door, Tiffany took advantage Dad not notice, turned head looked me once, although eyes still contained tears light, mouth corner however quietly, carrying bit provocation hooked to me. Always quiet standing aside Uncle Lee, wait they completely left, then carefully walked forward, bent down soft voice ask me: “Little Miss, then now… this USB Drive, what we do?” I pinched that wrinkled report written terrible result in pocket again, then looked up, looking Uncle Lee, using still nasal but clear voice said: “Uncle Lee, can please you help me go security uncle there again, ask a copy of today hospital gate surveillance video?” I paused, small hand tightly clutching shirt corner, mustered courage continue said: “Also Uncle, can you help me ask, my mom… now where?” Chapter 4 My photos scolded by many people online, also someone sent ugly drawings to home. Dad company stock also fell a lot. Dad spent money let those scolding words disappear, adults more angry, said Dad use money bully people. Night after dinner, I let Uncle Lee post yesterday hospital gate surveillance video, and photo of that report written “Not exist parent-child relationship”, together online. But only passed three minutes, Uncle Lee anxious told me, posting account can’t use, just posted video and photo also gone. I stunned, heart unspeakable uncomfortable. Just then, phone watch rang, is Dad called. Just picked up, heard Dad very angry voice: “Lily Sterling, why you post those things, didn’t I say can’t post? Didn’t Auntie Tiffany apologize to you?” “Also that what check report, where you got from? Is it you random drew?” My voice sounded calmer than I imagined: “Didn’t you see all?” Phone other side, Dad breathing became heavy, quiet for a while, his voice bit shaking: “I… I don’t believe!” Finished, he hung up phone. Although video and photo quickly deleted, but still some fast hand adults saw, they discussing again: [I just seemed scroll a video, is hospital gate that kid and adult? How refresh gone?] [I also saw! Also a picture, look like check list something, didn’t have time click open see detail.] [Is it that ‘bear kid’ made new things again?] My mood messy, because ankle still bit pain, I early climbed bed sleep, carefully folded that wrinkled report well, stuffed under pillow. I know, tomorrow might need me very brave. Next morning, I just woke up, Uncle Lee holding a yellow file folder walked in. He saw my small hand reaching out take file slightly trembling. I deeply sucked a breath, said to Uncle Lee: “Uncle, you read for me listen.” Uncle Lee neatly opened file bag, but looked few times, however long long time didn’t open mouth. In this silence, my heart beat faster and faster, more and more sinking. I grabbed folder, first page, enter eye curtain is a photo——Dad and a Auntie I never seen together, that Auntie belly round. Date written beside photo, is exactly time Mom pregnant me. I quickly flip back, want know where my real Mom is, live good or not. Short few pages paper, however told me a secret hidden many years. Turns out Dad long together with this Auntie, I simply not Dad’s child. Last page, pasted a small, bit blurry photo. Above is a look so gentle so gentle Auntie, holding a small baby in arms. My eyes tightly staring that photo, tears unknowingly flowed full face. Uncle Lee small voice said: “Little Miss, this should be your biological mother…” I choked, used sleeve wipe tears, firmly said to Uncle Lee: “Uncle Lee, now, we now go find Mom, okay?” Just then, my room door “Bang” sound force pushed open. Dad holding Tiffany walked in. First glance see me, Dad steps paused, eyes first time flashed is impatience. But next second, he saw clear file I holding. He regardless everything rushed up, snatched file. When he saw clear content inside, surprised eyes wide open. Immediately, he angry threw file on ground. “Go who there? You want find who?” His voice very loud. Tiffany picked up file on ground, see clear content above, eyes also flashed surprise. Those annoying colorful words floated out again: [Eh? This Little Villain how so fast knew own background? Plot advanced?] [Is it for let her offline faster?] Dad voice full of hate: “Where you got these?” I jumped from bed, force pushed Dad once. Dad pushed by me, dumbly stood there, unbelievable look me. Instead side Tiffany, anxious step forward block in front Dad, then raise a face, angry stare me: “Based on what you hit people!” I angry again reached hand pushed Tiffany once. Crisp sound still in room, next second, I pushed by Dad force down on ground. He like an angry lion, red eyes stare me: “Why you hit Auntie Tiffany!” Looking them two protect each other look, I only feel both angry and sad. Butt fell so painful, I shouted to security uncles standing at door: “Come people, invite them out, this is my room!” Dead like silence. Door security uncles like didn’t hear my words, silent stood in place. Seeing my surprised expression, Tiffany first couldn’t help laughed out sound, tone carrying pride: “Little friend, you don’t forget, this home is Dad say count oh.” “Not to mention you now even not his child, have what qualification use them!” Dad looking me sitting on ground, eyes no longer usual doting, only left cold: “No matter what, I also raised you so many years, you rest assured, I will continue raise you.” “Also… your that mom,” he paused, “If she behave bit, I can allow her occasionally come see you.” I can’t bear anymore, grabbed pillow force throw him: “Not allow you say my mom!” Dad eyes complex looked me few seconds, finally protected Tiffany left. Uncle Lee helped me up, picked up pillow, small voice ask me: “Little Miss, then we now still go find… find your mom?” I lowered head, silent long time, then shook head. Wait Uncle Lee out, I took out my phone watch, found a number long long time didn’t contact from contacts, dialed out. “Hello, is Uncle Lee? I am Lily, you… can you help me find my mom?”

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My childhood friend suffers from severe insomnia. For years, my voice was the only thing that could lull him to sleep. That was until he met the new “It Girl,” and suddenly, he was cured. For her, he fought with paparazzi, blacklisted her rivals, wrote hit songs for her, and shipped me—the girl he found annoying—off to a political marriage. Rumor had it my fiancé was a ruthless, elderly tycoon with one foot in the grave. I ran to my friend, crying, holding a knife to my throat, threatening to end it all. Liam Sterling just scoffed. “Grow up, Chloe. Are you still playing these games?” “If you want to die, hurry up. Do you think everyone has as much free time as you?” “You’re not a child anymore. Sure, he’s a bit older, but for someone like you? It’s more than you deserve.” Suddenly, a stream of holographic text—like a livestream chat—scrolled across my vision: 【Don’t listen to him, girl! Your fiancé is a dark, obsessive Merman! A total tragic villain!】 【He’s been in love with you for centuries! He’s drop-dead gorgeous, loyal to a fault, cries actual pearls when he’s sad, and his biggest dream is to start a family with you!】 I silently lowered the knife. “Um, excuse me. Can we move the wedding date up?” I don’t have any ulterior motives. I just really, really like seafood. Chapter 1 When I pressed the cold blade against my neck, my eyes were filled with absolute despair. Then, the floating text appeared, bombarding my vision. 【Don’t do it! If you die now, no one will even care!】 【Plus, the heroine will inherit your magical voice, and Liam will love her even more!】 Mia Thorne stood behind Liam, shielded from my glare. Her almond eyes were brimming with tears, looking pathetic and fragile as she tugged at the hem of Liam’s designer jacket. “I’m so sorry, Chloe. I didn’t know you hated me this much. I truly just want to be with Liam.” “If you don’t want to see me, I promise I’ll disappear. You and Liam have known each other for fifteen years… you’re his dearest little sister. I don’t want you to get hurt.” She sobbed in hiccups. Liam, seeing this, tenderly wiped her tears away. “Let her throw her tantrum. It’s not the first time.” “Everyone knows she’s terrified of pain. Suicide? Please. She’s just seeking attention.” “You’re too innocent, Mia. That’s why she always bullies you.” He glanced at me with impatience. “Haven’t you had enough? Your arm must be tired holding that knife up.” “Everyone is watching. If you’re going to do it, make it quick.” The boy who once hugged me and refused to let go was now telling me to die for another woman. Chapter 2 Liam Sterling has chronic insomnia. He needs the sound of my voice to fall asleep. My parents died when I was young, leaving me alone. When the Sterlings discovered my voice was the only cure for their son, they adopted me. From the age of eight, I lived under the same roof as Liam. He was clingy. If I left his sight for a moment, he’d panic. Before me, he lived on sleeping pills. After he met me, he never took another pill. Every night, I sang him a lullaby. Growing up, Liam always let me win. Whenever I made him angry, he was the one who apologized, claiming that seeing me cry broke his heart. On his eighteenth birthday, in front of the entire socialite circle of New York, Liam declared he would never marry anyone but Chloe Vance. I thought we would be together forever. Junior year of college, we had a fight. I ran off to Joshua Tree to paint. He drove through the night to find my tent, wrapping me in a blanket under the starlight. Hot tears ran down my neck as he choked out, “Chloe, take me with you next time, okay? Without you, I can’t sleep. My heart feels empty.” I was defeated by his tears. “Shh, didn’t I leave you a recording?” I wanted to say more, but a line of text floated in the air. 【Tragic, isn’t it? Who would have thought the puppy-dog boy who ‘couldn’t live without Chloe’ would drive her to suicide for another woman two years later?】 I thought the altitude was making me hallucinate. I didn’t know then that the man in my arms was the Protagonist of this world. And I was just the fleeting, villainous side character. Chapter 3 After graduation, I became a director at Sterling Entertainment. When Liam came to find me, I was supervising a girl group rehearsal. Mia Thorne was bubbly and cute, but her singing was off-key and her dancing was a disaster. The manager scolded her. Mia blinked, pouted, and instantly dropped a few perfect tears. I turned around and saw Liam staring at her, entranced. A smile played on his lips. Perhaps that was the moment the gears of fate began to turn. I saw the strange “Chat” again. 【Love at first sight! Classic trope check.】 【Mia is so cute, the male lead’s heart just melted. Look, he can’t even blink.】 【The heroine is clumsy, but adorable. No wonder he’s moving on.】 【What? The side character (Chloe) is way prettier!】 【Pretty doesn’t matter. The plot demands he dumps her for the heroine.】 From those comments, I realized I was living in a romance novel. Mia was the “Sweetheart Heroine,” and Liam was her destined “CEO.” I didn’t want to believe it. But from that day on, Mia and Liam grew closer. He came to the studio to “see me,” but ended up laughing with her. She even hitched a ride home in his car every night. I felt panicked, like someone had licked the frosting off my cupcake. I told Liam to stop coming. If he wanted to see me, I’d go to him. He frowned but agreed. One day, I was heading to the Sterling estate with Liam. It wasn’t on Mia’s way. I whispered, “Liam, the ice cream I bought is melting. Can we call Mia an Uber?” Liam thought for a second, then smiled. “Whatever you want.” Halfway there, Mia called. She was crying. “Liam… I think someone is following me… I’m scared…” Liam immediately U-turned. “Don’t be scared. Stay on the line. I’m coming!” When we arrived, Liam jumped out. Mia threw herself into his arms. He stroked her back, his face full of pain. “I’ll protect you. I’ll drive you home every day from now on, okay?” And so, “Drive Mia Home” became a permanent fixture in his schedule. I became invisible. Eventually, I realized Liam could sleep without me. I had been replaced. Even when I fainted from cramps and asked him to take me to the hospital, he was indifferent. “Chloe, stop being dramatic. I called you a car.” “Mia needs me right now. Just hold on. I’ll send my assistant to sit with you.” Later, I found out the stalker was a former employee of Mia’s father. Her family had run a factory into the ground, embezzled the funds, and fled the country, leaving workers unpaid. The stalker, a man named Frank, needed wages for his daughter’s leukemia surgery. When he confronted Mia, Liam beat him half to death. Liam kicked the man until he was unconscious. When the police arrived, Liam’s face was scratched. I tried to clean the wound, but he shoved me aside. He knelt before the terrified Mia, hugging her tight. “I’m sorry I let you get scared.” I was standing right there, but I didn’t exist in his world anymore. Liam knew I was terrified of pain. But when he shoved me, I hit a pile of exposed bricks. My shin was bleeding profusely. But I didn’t cry. Because Liam was wiping Mia’s tears, his face full of adoration. At that moment, I realized it didn’t matter if I hurt or cried. Liam didn’t care. Later, Frank went to jail. Liam made Mia quit the idol group and become his personal assistant. At galas, I was no longer his plus-one. At business dinners, he drank for her and held her waist. The handmade storybook I made him? He gave it to Mia. Worse, he moved Mia into the house. I came back from a business trip to find my room gone. “Chloe, Mia needs to sleep next to my room. I moved your stuff to the attic.” In the attic, my things were scattered. Broken glass, torn photos. Downstairs, the Sterling parents were laughing with Mia. Mia was a master manipulator. Even Liam’s stoic father was smiling. His mother, who suffered from migraines, loved Mia’s massages and gave her an heirloom bracelet. I finally believed it. The world revolved around her. I planned to move abroad. To escape this “Sweetheart Center.” But the Sterlings told me I was to be married off to Silas Hale in Seattle. Silas Hale. Rumor had it he was an arms dealer or a mob boss. Over fifty. Brutal looking. I was terrified. I ran to Liam’s room. “Liam, please. Tell them no. I don’t want an arranged marriage.” Liam pulled my hand away, sipping his tea. “Chloe, you’re not a kid. He’s older, sure, but for you? It’s more than enough.” I felt my heart turn to ash. I grabbed a fruit knife. When I aimed the sharp blade at my neck, Liam didn’t even flinch. Two years ago, if a mosquito bit me, he’d freak out. Now, he watched me prepare to die with boredom. Suddenly, Mia screamed, startling me. The knife nicked my skin. Green text flashed before my eyes: 【Poor side character. The chandelier is about to fall on the knife. She won’t die, but her vocal cords will be severed. She’ll be mute.】 【She thinks Liam and his parents will feel guilty? Nope. They’ll just sigh and move on.】 【By the way, Mia gets her magical voice. Liam sleeps even better.】 【The parents are so touched by Mia that they let her marry Liam immediately.】 【I remember their wedding rings were made from the inheritance left by Chloe’s parents.】 【Yeah, the ‘Mermaid’s Tear’ diamond. Worth millions.】 I went cold. Why? Just because she’s the protagonist? Then, a huge, bold comment appeared: 【Girl, stop crying! Your fiancé isn’t an old man! He’s a tragic, beautiful Merman!】 【That gloomy fish is obsessed with you! When he heard you almost committed suicide, he cried all night. He kissed your wounds!】 【He’s super hot, totally loyal, and—most importantly—he’s rich and obedient. He literally dreams of carrying your babies!】 Chapter 4 I froze. Huh? A Merman? The chat was going wild. 【He’s loved Chloe since he was a fry! He fought his way onto land just to find her.】 【When she loses her voice, he acts out both sides of the conversation. He says the dirtiest things to make her blush.】 【Chloe is tiny, so when the giant Merman hugs her, her feet rest right on his… sensitive scales. He turns bright red.】 【He loves water. When she showers or swims, he gets… naughty.】 【CEO romances are fine, but a possessive, wet, pathetic Merman? Yes please!】 My face flushed. Why didn’t you guys say so sooner? I’m a total monster-lover! If that’s the plot, who wants to die? In the living room, people were still surrounding Liam. “Chloe listens to you, Liam. Tell her to stop!” Liam looked annoyed. He knew I was afraid of pain. I was bluffing to stay in the house. “Chloe, put the knife down! Does it have to be this ugly?” “Mom and Dad are doing this for you. If you don’t want to marry, fine. Stay. But no more bullying Mia.” Before he finished, I dropped the knife. I ran to the Sterling parents. “So, when is the wedding? Can we move it up?” Silence. Liam grabbed my arm. “Chloe, there’s a limit to your jokes.” I rolled my eyes. “Who’s joking with you?” Mrs. Sterling recovered. “If you’re okay with Mr. Hale… next month?” “No problem,” I said. Crash! The chandelier fell exactly where I had been standing. Mia glared at me, hateful that I wasn’t hurt. The chat said she stole my voice “buff” after I got hurt. Not today. “Mia, you look disappointed. Sad I didn’t get crushed?” Mia immediately switched to victim mode, hugging Liam. “No… I was just scared.” Liam glared at me. “Chloe! Where are your manners? Apologize.” In the past, I would have cried. Now, I laughed. “You’re right. I should apologize. Sorry for interrupting the family dinner. Don’t worry, I’m getting married. You won’t see me much longer.” Liam sneered. “Playing hard to get? Chloe, I’ll say it once: Stop playing games.” Mia suddenly whimpered. “Liam… my hand… it’s scratched.” A microscopic scratch. Liam panicked, yelling for the first aid kit. But he paused, glancing back at me. He felt a sudden emptiness, as if I really was leaving his world. “Liam! It hurts!” Mia cried. He turned back. I was just jealous, he told himself. I’d never actually leave him.

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I have never tasted my wife’s cooking. Not once. We’ve been married for five years. Every morning, she wakes up an hour early to bustle around the kitchen. The sounds are methodical, rhythmic—the crack of an egg, the hum of the toaster, the precise chopping of fruit. The aromas drift into the bedroom, filling the air with the scent of caramelized onions, fresh coffee, and searing meat. I asked her once, early on, “Could you make a plate for me, too?” She didn’t even turn around. “Don’t you have a cafeteria at work?” I never asked again. Until one day, I found a bento box in her car. It was empty. Stuck to the lid was a neon-yellow Post-it note. The handwriting was jagged, masculine, sprawling: “The chicken today was insane. Craving those roasted short ribs tomorrow ~” That wasn’t my handwriting. 1. I stared at that sticky note for a long time. “Craving those braised short ribs tomorrow.” The tone was playful, demanding. Like a spoiled child who knows exactly how to get what they want. I flipped the note over. On the back, in the same scrawl: “Meredith is the best!” Meredith. My wife. I placed the container back exactly where I found it and closed the car door. That night, I didn’t say a word. Meredith came home a little later than usual, carrying a grocery bag heavy with premium cuts of meat. Short ribs. “I’m making braised short ribs tomorrow,” she announced, kicking off her heels. “Who for?” I asked, keeping my voice level. “A colleague,” she said, not meeting my eyes as she headed for the kitchen. “There’s a boy at the office, poor health. Immune system issues or something. I’m just helping out.” “Just helping out?” “Mmhmm.” She pulled the cooking wine and pepper salt from the pantry, moving with a practiced efficiency I didn’t recognize. She began to marinate the ribs. Her movements were fluid, almost artistic. I stood in the doorway, watching her back. Five years. In five years, I had never seen her treat a piece of meat with such tenderness. “What do you want?” she asked suddenly, breaking the silence. “What?” “For dinner,” she said. “Should I order something?” I paused. The absurdity of it hit me, and I let out a dry, short laugh. “Whatever. You decide.” “That Thai place again? The basil chicken?” “Sure.” She tapped her phone screen, ordering the takeout. On the stove, the ribs were marinating, filling the kitchen with a rich, savory promise. On her phone, the delivery tracker read: Estimated arrival: 30 minutes. This was our marriage. She cooked; she ate. She ordered out; I ate. I don’t know how long I had been blind to this, but from that moment on, I started paying attention. The next morning, she was up at 5:30 AM. I feigned sleep, listening to the symphony of her affection in the kitchen. The rhythmic chopping, the sizzle of the pan, the soft beep of the microwave. At 6:15, she slipped out the door, quiet as a ghost. I waited five minutes, then got up. The kitchen counters were wiped spotless. The ribs were gone from the fridge. In the trash can: eggshells, onion skins, and an empty bottle of premium sauce. I opened the cabinet where we kept the spare Tupperware—a wedding gift from her mother that I thought we’d never touched. One was missing. I put it together. That bento box left the house every morning at 6:15 and returned before 8:00 PM. It carried meals cooked with my wife’s own hands. It went to a “sickly” male colleague. I called my best friend, Davis. “I need a background check,” I said. “Guy at Meredith’s firm. Male. Supposedly has health issues.” Davis was silent on the other end for a few seconds. “You found out?” “Found out what?” “…Nothing,” he said quickly. “I’ll handle it.” By evening, my phone pinged with a file. Silas Vane. 28 years old. Meredith’s college classmate. They had dated in university. The “one who got away.” The tortured artist type. Three years ago, Silas was hired at Meredith’s company. Same department. The photo attached showed a man who looked like he was made of glass—pale skin, messy hair, thin frame. He looked like a strong wind would shatter him. I zoomed in on the photo. Then I found his social media. His bio read: “Lucky enough to have a personal chef.” Posted two days ago. I scrolled through his feed. It was a culinary diary. Chicken drumsticks, roasted ribs, ham salad, cream corn soup, wild mushroom risotto. Every single meal was presented in the bento box I had seen in the car. I scrolled back. One year. Two years. Three years. Three years. My wife had been cooking for him for three years. And I had been eating takeout for three years. I lowered the phone. My hand was trembling. Not from anger. From the cold. It felt like someone had poured a bucket of ice water down my spine, the chill settling deep in my bones. That night, Meredith came home early. “You’re back early,” I said. “Yeah, just wanted to spend some time with you.” She walked over, reaching out to hug me. I sidestepped her. “I need a shower,” I said. Standing under the spray, the hot water did nothing to thaw the ice inside me. I started to replay the last five years. Did she ever cook for me? Yes. The first year. Maybe a handful of times. Then it stopped. I had asked her why. She said, “You’re not picky. You’re easy to feed.” I believed her. I thought she was just lazy about cooking. I thought she didn’t enjoy it. I thought— I thought I knew her. I knew nothing. 2. The next day, I took the afternoon off. I went to Meredith’s office building. I didn’t go to her floor. I went straight to Administration. The receptionist, a young girl named Sarah, knew me. I’d dropped off forgotten keys and umbrellas enough times. “Guru? What are you doing here?” “I need a favor, Sarah,” I said. “Silas Vane. He works in Meredith’s department.” “Silas?” She blinked. “The guy in Meredith’s team?” “Yeah.” “Is… is everything okay?” “Just need to check something.” She looked around, then lowered her voice. “Guru, I really shouldn’t, but… honestly, take a look.” She turned her monitor toward me. Silas Vane’s employment file. Start date: Three years and four months ago. Referred by: Meredith Hayes. I let out a sharp breath. “Referred by.” “Guru…” “What else?” She bit her lip and opened another folder. “Attendance logs.” I scanned them. He punched in and out like clockwork. But one data point stood out. Lunch Breaks (M/W/F): Off-campus. “What does this mean?” “We have a subsidized cafeteria,” Sarah explained. “If you eat there, it logs on your badge. He doesn’t eat here Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.” “Where does he eat?” “I don’t know. But…” She pulled up a screenshot. It was from an internal company chat group. A female colleague had posted: “Meredith brought another bento for Silas today. It smells amazing.” The replies underneath: “So jealous.” “Meredith is literally a saint.” “Silas must have saved the galaxy in a past life.” Date: 18 months ago. I stared at the words until they blurred. “Guru?” “I’m fine,” I said, my voice sounding distant to my own ears. “Thanks, Sarah.” “Don’t do anything rash, okay?” “I’m not rash.” “But—” “I just need to understand.” I walked out of the building and stood on the curb. Three years and four months. Meredith and I had been married five years. That meant Silas came into the picture when we were barely two years into our marriage. Back then, I thought we were in the honeymoon phase. I thought we were solid. I pulled out my phone and texted Davis: “You knew the whole time, didn’t you?” He replied instantly: “Do you want to see him?” “Yes.” “Friday noon. The small park behind the office complex. He eats the lunch there every Friday.” I stared at the screen. I typed out a response: “No. I need to see her give it to him.” Davis sent a thumbs-up emoji. Then: “Guru, I’ll come with you.” “No need.” “You shouldn’t be al—” “I can handle it.” I hung up and looked at the sky. It was a brilliant, blinding blue. A memory surfaced. Last month. I had a fever of 102. Shivering, teeth chattering, unable to leave the bed. I called Meredith. I told her I was sick. She said: “Just take some Tylenol and sleep it off. I have to work late. I’ll be home when I can.” She did come home late. Eleven o’clock. The next morning, she was up at 5:30 AM as usual to make the bento. I asked her, “What were you working on so late?” She said, “Just catching up on project timelines.” Now I knew. The overtime was real. The timelines were real. But it wasn’t work. It was the timeline for simmering bone broth for Silas. I checked my phone records. That night, at 11:00 PM, she had made a call to Silas Vane. Duration: 27 minutes. And the call to me? The one where she told me to “sleep it off”? 15 seconds. 3. Friday noon. I went to the park behind the office tower. I found a bench in the shadows of an oak tree and waited. At 12:10, Meredith appeared. She was carrying an insulated lunch bag, walking with purpose. I watched her pass right in front of me. She didn’t even see me. Her eyes were fixed on a destination about fifty yards away. There was a bench there. A man was sitting on it. Messy hair, white button-down shirt, looking like a gust of wind would knock him over. Silas. Meredith walked up and sat next to him. She unzipped the bag and pulled out the bento box. “I made the roasted ribbs you like,” she said. I was close enough to hear them. The air was still. “You make the best ribbs,” Silas said, taking the fork with a smile that looked practiced. “And here’s the cream corn soup. Be careful, it’s hot.” She unscrewed a thermos cap and handed it to him. “Meredith,” Silas said suddenly. “Does your husband know?” My heart skipped a beat. Meredith hesitated, then shook her head. “He doesn’t know.” “How long do you plan to hide this?” “It’s not hiding…” Meredith sighed. “We’ve been married five years. The feeling… it’s just gone.” Silas looked down, picking at a piece of rib. “Then why don’t you divorce him?” “It’s not the right time.” “When is the right time?” Meredith was silent for a moment. “When your health is better. When the project is done…” “When, when, when.” Silas put down his fork. “Meredith, I’ve been waiting for you for three years.”

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After the divorce from Anastasia Stacey, the only option left was a quiet kind of downgrade. I married a woman who spoke little, wore faded, thrift-store T-shirts, and always had her hair pulled back into a hasty, messy knot. She’d haggle over every fifty cents at the grocery store. My old friends, the ones who still spoke to me, would look at my life and make condescending jokes: “Your lifestyle took a hit, Cal, but did your taste have to as well?” I just laughed it off. “I told them how I’d smashed Paul Hayes’s laptop into his head in front of the entire Stacey Capital board,” I’d say. “Anastasia sacrificed me to save him. The fallout was nuclear. I was an untouchable after that.” “When I got out of prison, the shame was a physical thing. Dogs would cross the street to avoid me. I was lucky anyone would have me.” As I spoke, my hand moved with practiced precision, filleting a fresh halibut. I bagged it for the customer and called out to the next person in line. “Fresh catch, ma’am. Take your pick.” The person froze, and then a shaky, unmistakable voice whispered, “Cal… you did all this… just to hurt me? To punish me for sending you away?” 1 I didn’t look up. My dulling fillet knife slammed down on the wood block, scattering scales and blood-tinged water onto the tiled floor. Anastasia Stacey stood there. She was wearing a perfectly tailored, unbothered cream suit that looked wildly out of place next to the stench of the fish market. She stared at my hands. They were raw, chapped, covered in shallow cuts and the winter frostbite. Those hands used to type memos and sign multi-million dollar contracts; now they were coarse and stiff, like dry driftwood. “If you’re not buying, move along. There’s a line behind you.” I wiped my hands on the front of my apron and reached for the next customer’s basket—an elderly man named Mr. Rodriguez. Being ignored seemed to be the worst insult. Anastasia’s composure cracked. She stepped forward and, in a flash of manic impulse, swiped my knife off the counter. It clattered on the concrete floor, bouncing twice. “Calvin Brooks, the youngest executive in Stacey Capital history, a Finance grad from Stanford, is gutting fish?” She practically yelled the last part, her voice a mix of disbelief and tightly coiled rage. It drew the eyes of the surrounding vendors and the morning shoppers. “Do you think this is going to make me feel sorry for you? Do you think I’ll regret testifying against you?” Her eyes were overflowing with the kind of high-society pity that felt worse than contempt. She clearly believed I was performing, trying to use my own degradation to manipulate her. I bent down and picked up the knife, rubbing it against my rough canvas apron. “Ma’am.” I kept my voice flat. “That knife cost me thirty dollars. You’ve chipped the blade. You owe me.” I looked at her, then turned to Mr. Rodriguez. “And I don’t know you.” Anastasia was stunned. She was prepared for a fight, for tears, for an apology—but not for a petty demand for thirty dollars. The crowd began to buzz. “Who is that woman? Dressed like she’s on a magazine cover, coming here to hassle a decent man.” “Looks like an old flame. She’s probably here to gloat now that he’s down on his luck.” “He works hard. She needs to mind her own business.” The whispers drilled into Anastasia’s ears. Her face cycled through shades of white and pink. Her assistant, standing awkwardly behind her, made a move to intervene, but she waved him away. She fixed her stare on me, trying to find some trace of the adoration I used to have for her. There was nothing left. Only a profound, dead emptiness. “Stop playing dumb, Cal.” She ground out the words, lowering her voice to a furious hiss. “Your father would spin in his grave if he saw you like this. Your hands were meant to sign documents, not scoop out guts! If you needed money, why didn’t you go to a proper firm? With your background…” She paused, a sharp, cold smile forming on her perfect lips. “Oh, I forgot.” “You have a felony record. I made sure of that.” “So, what is this? A spiteful act of revenge?” The familiar, self-righteous arrogance returned to her face. I ignored her. I turned back to the tank, netted a fresh red snapper, and brought it to the block. I pressed down, the knife moving expertly. Fish blood sprayed out, splattering directly onto the hem of her designer skirt. Anastasia flinched back, a look of visceral disgust crossing her face. I packaged the fish without a word, handing the bag to Mr. Rodriguez. “That’s twenty-five, sir. The QR code is on the wall.” I never looked at her. That blank dismissal was the only weapon I had left. She pulled out a crisp, white linen handkerchief, her hand hovering as if to wipe the specks of blood from my face. I tilted my head away. The handkerchief froze in mid-air. “Ma’am.” I pointed to the wall. “The knife was thirty. Loss of business is twenty. Total, fifty dollars.” “Pay up and stop wasting my time.” 2 Anastasia’s hand dropped. She crumpled the pristine handkerchief in her tight fist. Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she struggled to contain her fury. “Money? Is that all you want?” She sneered, pulling out her checkbook and quickly scrawling a number. Then she pulled a thick wad of cash from her wallet. Splat. She tossed it all—the check and the cash—onto the blood-and-guts-covered counter. “Shut down your stand,” she commanded, her tone brooking no argument. “Come have lunch with me and let’s talk. This is enough for you to sell fish here for a year.” A collective gasp went through the crowd. The stack of bills was easily three or four thousand dollars—a fortune to the market workers. Anastasia stood tall, waiting for me to break down in humiliated rage and throw the money back at her. The old Cal would have. He couldn’t stand being insulted. I looked at the wet, blood-stained bills. I didn’t hesitate. I snatched the damp pile of cash, weighed it in my palm, and stuffed it into my tattered, sewn-up leather waist pouch. “Thank you, boss.” I gave her a curt nod, devoid of any shame. “Anything else? Need me to scale or gut another one?” Anastasia’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Cal… are you serious?” Her voice trembled, her pointing finger shaking. “Have you no dignity left?” “You once froze me out for three days because I didn’t get you a limited edition watch. And now, for this petty cash, you’ll drop all your pride?” I pulled off my fish-stained apron. Underneath, I was wearing a faded, cheap T-shirt with a stretched-out collar. “Dignity, how much does that cost a pound?” I countered, grabbing a nearby hose to rinse the grime off my worn boots. “Let’s go. You wanted lunch, right? But first, a warning: I won’t get past the host stand at any of your high-end places. I don’t meet the dress code.” Anastasia was speechless. She just scowled and followed me. I led her out the back, through the narrow, reeking alleyway behind the market. It was the access point to the run-down walk-up where I lived. The ground was slick with sewage and rotting produce. The air hung heavy with a mildewed stench. Anastasia picked her way along, terrified of ruining her expensive leather heels. “Walk two blocks in these shoes, and you’ll understand why I love cash,” I said, not looking back. At the alley mouth, our landlady, Dolores, was blocking the path, cracking sunflower seeds. Seeing me, she spat out the shells immediately. “Hey, Cal! That power bill from last month? Pay up or I’m shutting off your unit!” “Just opened shop, Dolores. Right now.” I offered a conciliatory smile and pulled out a few of the bills Anastasia had just given me. I handed them over without counting. Dolores’s face instantly softened. “Oh, look at you, hitting the jackpot! Alright, alright. I’ll give you a few more days.” A little further down, Mr. Rodriguez, the junk collector, was pushing his overloaded cart, its wheel jammed in a pothole. I didn’t hesitate; I ran over and helped him heave it free. Afterward, I didn’t forget to haggle. “Mr. Rodriguez, you stiffed me fifty cents on that last batch of cardboard. Gotta square up today.” Anastasia stood watching, her face growing paler, her expression tightening with every transaction. She watched me scrape for pennies, nod humbly to my landlady, and navigate this suffocating, lower-class world with utter familiarity. The stark reality of it was like a series of hard slaps to her face. Finally, she broke. She grabbed my arm and pulled me to a stop. “Stop it!” she hissed. “Cal, stop the act.” “I don’t believe you can live like this. Move out. I’ll find you an apartment. I’ll get you a job.” She pulled out her phone, her fingers flying across the screen. “I’m transferring you a million dollars.” “Just promise me I never have to see you embarrass yourself in a place like this again.” She was desperately trying to use her wealth to wash away her own guilt, or perhaps just to buy back her peace of mind—to prove that she hadn’t completely destroyed me. I stood still, letting her work. A few seconds passed. Ding. It wasn’t the successful transfer notification. It was a failure message. Anastasia frowned, confused. “What? Bad service?” She tried again. Failure. The system notification flashed: Recipient account frozen due to ‘judgment debtor’ status. Restriction on high-value transactions. Anastasia’s hand froze mid-air. She slowly looked up at me. I met her gaze, a sharp, bitter smile twisting my lips. “Mrs. Stacey, you forget so easily.” “Three years ago, to force my hand, you personally filed the motion to freeze all my assets and blacklist my credit.” “It seems the system you built is still standing.” Anastasia’s face went white. She opened her mouth to argue, but no sound came out. The very tool she had used to break me was now the wall preventing her “charity.” The irony was delicious. A deep engine rumble cut through the alley’s noise. A black Maybach pulled up, ridiculously conspicuous. The door opened. A polished, custom-made leather shoe stepped out. I looked at the car and spoke to Anastasia, my tone completely neutral. “Your husband is here.” “Aren’t you going to greet him?” 3 Paul Hayes emerged from the car, immaculate in a bespoke Armani suit. A limited-edition Patek Philippe glinted on his wrist—the very one Anastasia had purchased at auction last month as an anniversary gift. He pulled off his sunglasses, his eyes darting between Anastasia and me. Then, he pasted a warm, sympathetic smile onto his face and rushed over. “Ana, darling, what are you doing in a place like this?” He slipped an arm around her waist, clinging to her possessively, while his eyes cut me like razor wire. “Ugh, what an awful smell!” He clapped a hand over his nose and dramatically backed up, fanning the air with his free hand. “This stench is sickening. Let’s get you out of here, Ana.” He grimaced, the disgust entirely unfeigned. Anastasia’s body stiffened, but she didn’t push him away. She only looked at me with that same complex, unreadable expression. Paul, seeing my silence, moved closer, feigning sudden recognition. “Oh my God, is that Cal?” He covered his mouth in mock shock. “How could you… how did it come to this?” He extended a hand, as if to pat my shoulder, but stopped short, clearly afraid of contaminating himself. “Cal, I know you were distraught when you smashed my work laptop and nearly cost me my career…” He touched his immaculate new laptop bag, his eyes instantly welling up. “But I forgave you a long time ago. You weren’t in a stable place. Seeing you like this… it truly breaks my heart.” He looked on the verge of tears. Anastasia, whose face had been etched with a flicker of regret, hardened instantly. The memory of the violence erased any nascent pity. “Hey, Cal, how much for this fish?” Paul suddenly changed tack, pointing to the bag in my hand. “Since we ran into you, I have to support your business, right?” He reached out to take the bag from me. I didn’t let go. “Mr. Hayes, your hands are too precious to touch garbage.” I tried to lower the bag to the ground. Paul, however, made a sudden, exaggerated grab for it. “Oh, don’t be shy, buddy!” In that moment, whoosh. The bag turned over. The water, along with the dead fish, spilled out, soaking me completely. My already filthy T-shirt was now drenched and clinging to my chest. “Oops! I am so sorry, so clumsy!” Paul yelped, leaping back to avoid the spill. “This fish is so slippery!” As he cried out, his eyes were glued to Anastasia’s reaction. Seeing her scowl, he instantly changed his tone. He pointed at the fish on the ground and shouted: “Cal, is this fish spoiled? The smell is rank! Are you selling rotten fish to people? What if someone gets sick? And I heard that, you know, being in prison, you can sometimes pick up…” He trailed off, but the implication was clear. The surrounding neighbors and shoppers, who were already enjoying the spectacle, leaned in closer. “What disease? Is it contagious?” “Selling bad fish is terrible. I won’t buy from him again.” The tide of public opinion instantly turned against me. For a street vendor, a bad reputation is a death sentence. I stood there, letting the dirty water drip from my hair. My face was expressionless. Instead of lunging at him like I had three years ago, I simply bent down and scooped the fish back into the bag. Then I stood up, looking Paul straight in the eye. “Mr. Hayes.” My voice was quiet, but every word cut through the noise. “My fish were delivered this morning. The people on this block have been eating them for six months without issue.” I glanced pointedly at his slick, over-gelled hair. “The only way this fish is dead is if it was poisoned by the hair gel dripping off your expensive head.” A wave of laughter rippled through the onlookers. Paul’s face turned the color of raw liver. “You!” He pointed a trembling finger at me. “Cal is honest. He never cheats anyone,” Dolores chimed in, chewing loudly on her seeds. “Right,” Mr. Rodriguez agreed, pushing his cart closer. “He’s a good man. You rich folks should stop bullying him.” The public tide instantly swung back. The working-class crowd disliked Paul’s pompous cruelty far more than my supposed crime. Paul turned to Anastasia for backup. “Ana, look at him…” Anastasia looked at me, soaking wet but standing ramrod straight. A look of sheer, miserable irritation flashed in her eyes. She clearly found the entire scene mortifying. “Enough!” she snarled, yanking her arm out of Paul’s grasp. “Haven’t you made enough of a scene?” 4 After snapping at Paul, Anastasia turned her attention back to me. Her brow was deeply furrowed, her gaze a high-handed judgment. “Cal, if you’d been half this level-headed three years ago, you wouldn’t have gone to prison.” Her tone was filled with a patronizing disappointment. “If you hadn’t been so impulsive, so violent, we wouldn’t have ended up here. This is all your fault.” I felt a sudden, cold wave of laughter rise in my chest. Three years ago, at the shareholder meeting, Paul had leaned in and whispered to me, “Your parents’ car crash was karma. They were in Anastasia’s way.” Then he’d added, “She’s been mine all along. She tells me that every time she’s in my bed.” I’d lost control. I’d grabbed the first thing I saw—a laptop—and thrown it. Anastasia only saw the assault. She didn’t listen to a single word of my explanation. To protect Paul and for the sake of what she called “integrity,” she’d handed the evidence to the police herself. And now, she was standing here, lecturing me on self-control? “Mrs. Stacey is right,” I conceded, wiping the water from my face. My voice was hoarse. “I deserved it.” “I was blind.” Anastasia’s face darkened. “What is that supposed to mean?” She pulled another stack of bills—maybe six hundred dollars—from her wallet and, adding it to the damp pile on the counter, pushed it all toward me. “Paul was childish and ruined your work space. Take this, go buy some clean clothes.” “Don’t make a spectacle of yourself here. Go home.” Paul, though chastised, smirked, seeing his wife use money to shame me. He assumed a man like me would gratefully pocket the cash. After all, what is pride worth when you’re worried about the rent? I looked down at the money, then up at Anastasia’s self-satisfied expression. I reached into my patched-up pouch and took out the cash she had given me earlier—the blood-stained, wet bills. I grabbed the new stack, balled it all up, and threw it with force straight at her chest. Thwack. Anastasia was stunned. Paul was stunned. “I don’t want it,” I said, looking her dead in the eye, each word heavy and deliberate. “Your money is filthy.” “Take your dirty cash and get out of my sight.” Anastasia exploded. She had never been treated with such contempt, especially not by the man who had once worshiped her. “Calvin!” She shrieked, the veins in her neck bulging. “Stop this pathetic performance! What do you have now besides the stench of fish?” “Your life is ruined! Who else in the world would even look at you now, except me?” Paul seized the opportunity, his voice dripping with malice. “Now, Ana, don’t upset yourself. Cal’s current situation is truly regrettable.” He looked me up and down with vicious contempt. “He can’t even hold down a proper job, let alone get married and start a family.” “I mean, I hear men who’ve spent time inside… their bodies, you know…” He paused, letting the rumor hang in the air. “Who would risk marrying him? He’ll probably die alone and childless.” My hands clenched into fists, my fingernails digging crescents into my palms. I was about to break. Just before the explosion, a rush of tiny footsteps echoed in the alleyway. A small figure burst through, crashing right into my legs. A boy, maybe two or three years old, wearing a clean but faded little tank top. He wrapped his arms tightly around my thigh, looked up, and called out in a clear, happy voice: “Daddy!”

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