Category: English

1 I always thought I couldn’t dream. Then one day, my husband brought me a tonic to calm my nerves. I drank it and dreamed for the first time. In the dream, his struggling company made a miraculous comeback, becoming an industry leader. Days later, it came true. But joy was brief. A sudden car accident left my legs paralyzed. When pain kept me awake, he brought the tonic again. I dreamed a second time: my son, who always struggled in school, aced the entrance exam and got into a top university. Days later, he ranked first in the state. At that same moment, I was diagnosed with acute liver necrosis. Half my liver was removed. After surgery, my husband held my hand, crying, “Don’t worry, I’ll never leave you.” Then he brought another bowl of the tonic. I trembled, trying to push it away. But he pried my mouth open and poured it in. “Be good, Mindy. It’s a family recipe—a painkiller. Drink, and the pain will go.” My consciousness faded into a third dream: my father-in-law, dying of cancer, fully recovered. I woke with a jolt, a metallic taste in my throat. My heart stopped. I died instantly. Then I opened my eyes—back to the day he first handed me that bowl of tonic. … My husband, Joey, came from a long line of herbalists, and the Dream-Soothing Tonic was his family’s secret recipe. He’d recently improved the formula, claiming it not only helped you sleep more soundly but also guaranteed beautiful dreams. As I stared at the bowl, its unique herbal aroma filling the air, goosebumps erupted on my skin. In my past life, driven by curiosity about the dreams I could never have, I had drunk Joey’s tonic. And just as he’d promised, I had a beautiful dream. Not only that, but the dream came true. But I never imagined the price for making my dreams a reality was my own life. Joey carefully blew on the spoonful of hot liquid. “Honey, you said you wanted to know what it’s like to dream. Come on, try it!” “I even added some honey, so it tastes great and works even better!” I scooted back on the bed, away from the proffered spoon. “You know, I think I’m fine without dreams. Every medicine has its side effects. I think I’ll pass.” He persistently pushed the spoon toward my lips. “These are all restorative herbs. I promise, there are no side effects.” I pressed my lips together, refusing to drink. Clatter! The spoon clattered back into the bowl. Joey’s face darkened. “Mindy, don’t you trust me? Do you think I’m trying to hurt you?” His voice was tight with suppressed anger. If I provoked him further, I knew he would do the same thing he did in my past life—pry my mouth open and force it down my throat. I stared at the murky green, life-draining liquid and clutched my stomach. “Of course not! It’s just… my stomach is acting up. I don’t feel like eating anything.” Joey hesitated. He was about to say something else, but I curled up on the bed, feigning a wave of pain. He had no choice but to take the tonic and leave. “Alright, you get some rest. If it’s really bad, we’ll go to the hospital.” I let out a long breath. I had dodged a bullet. A few minutes later, Joey returned with a packet of stomach medicine. “Feeling any better? Take this, it’ll help.” I sat up immediately. “Much better! I don’t need it.” I couldn’t risk taking anything he gave me. He didn’t force me this time. He helped me out of bed. “Well, come have dinner then. Mom made her special chicken soup to soothe your stomach.” I had no reason to refuse. I went to the dining table. My mother-in-law ladled a huge bowl of soup for me. The broth was fragrant and clear, dotted with vibrant green scallions. It looked delicious. It seemed to have nothing to do with the murky green tonic. My son, Leo, quickly downed two bowls. My mother-in-law put a drumstick in my bowl. “Go on, Mindy, eat up! You always loved my chicken soup. It’ll get cold if you wait!” The whole family was eating heartily, paying no attention to me. I cautiously took a sip. If everyone is eating it, it must be fine, I thought. I can’t just stop eating forever. I forced down a few bites and left the table. I thought that by avoiding the tonic, I had avoided my fate. But as soon as I fell asleep, I started dreaming again. 2 Just like in my past life, I dreamt that Joey’s failing company landed a massive contract, rocketing to the top of the industry. I woke up in a cold sweat. I felt no joy, because I knew that Joey’s success was meant to be paid for with my legs. Seeing me awake, Joey asked with concern, “What’s wrong? Did you have a dream?” I stared at him suspiciously. “Did you give me the tonic?” He shook his head, his face a mask of innocence. “Of course not. You said you didn’t want it.” I racked my brain. I truly hadn’t consumed anything suspicious. Could it all be a coincidence? Was the tonic unrelated? Joey stroked my head, his voice full of sympathy. “Is your stomach still bothering you? If you’re not feeling well, just take the day off work.” The memory of being crippled made me shiver. I took a week off. I decided I wouldn’t set foot outside my house. That way, there was no chance of a car hitting me. After Joey left, I went to the fridge and took out the leftover chicken soup from last night. When I lifted the lid of the clay pot, my pupils constricted. At the very bottom was a pile of familiar herbs. No wonder I’d dreamed again. The chicken soup had been brewed with the tonic’s ingredients! But why, if the whole family drank it, was I the only one paying the price? I collected the herbs from the pot and sent them to a lab for analysis. I was going to find out what was so special about that tonic. Before the results came back, I got a call from Joey. His voice was electric with excitement. “Honey, I landed a huge contract! The company’s fortunes are turning around!” My breath caught in my throat. In my past life, I had received this same call on my way home from work. And then the accident happened. Thank God I was at home this time. There was no way I could get into a car accident here. But a few moments later, a message popped up in the parent-teacher group chat from my son’s homeroom teacher. “The school bus has broken down. Parents, please come pick up your children after school today.” School ended in two hours. I had a terrible feeling that the moment I stepped outside, I would be hit by a car. I couldn’t go. My son was an adult now. He could surely make his own way home. I decided to let him. But two hours later, a torrential downpour began. Leo called me. “Mom, where are you? The rain is insane, and I can’t get a cab!” I told Joey to go pick him up. But he claimed he was in a critical meeting and couldn’t leave. Leo’s calls kept coming, one after another, as the storm raged on. It felt like the entire world was conspiring to force me out of the house. In a flash of inspiration, I remembered that his teacher lived in the building across from ours. I quickly called her and begged her to walk Leo home. She readily agreed. Soon, I heard a knock at the door. “Mom, open up! I’m home!” Relief washed over me. I stood up to let him in. But as I took my first step, a hard object tripped me. The world spun, and I crashed heavily onto the floor. Before I lost consciousness, I saw what had tripped me. It was my son’s remote-control car. 3 I woke up in a hospital room. Joey sat by my bed, his eyes red-rimmed. I couldn’t feel my legs. I never would have imagined that a toy car could leave me paralyzed. Was there truly no escape from the tonic’s curse? Joey’s voice cracked as he tried to comfort me. “Don’t be sad, honey. I’m rich now. I can take care of you for the rest of your life!” He held out another bowl of the tonic. “You must be in so much pain. This will help. Drink it, and the pain will go away.” I swiped the bowl from his hands, sending it crashing to the floor. I screamed, not caring who heard. “Your company’s success was bought with my legs! And you still want me to drink this poison?” Joey looked bewildered. “Mindy, what are you talking about? How could one be exchanged for the other? What does this have to do with the tonic?” A notification pinged on my phone. The lab results were in. I laughed coldly. “If it has nothing to do with it, why did you put the tonic’s herbs in the chicken soup? Don’t even try to deny it. I have the lab report right here. I’m calling the police!” Joey looked utterly baffled. “Those herbs were just for flavor! They’re not poisonous! The whole family drank the soup. No one is trying to hurt you. Why would you call the police?” I wasn’t listening. I opened the report. And then I stared, dumbfounded. The report stated that the herbs were not only harmless but were actually high-quality, beneficial supplements. How could that be? If there was nothing wrong with the tonic, why was Joey so insistent that I drink it? And why did I, a person who never dreams, suddenly start dreaming after drinking it? Maybe the herbs in the soup were an incomplete formula? Seeing my silence, Joey picked up the bowl from the floor, scooped up some of the spilled liquid, and drank it himself. “See, Mindy? The tonic is perfectly fine. I drank it, and nothing happened. Why would I ever hurt you?” I was completely lost. Even if the soup was an incomplete version, what he just drank was the real deal. He’d done it without a second’s hesitation. Joey set the bowl down. “I understand you’re having a hard time accepting this, and you’re suspicious of everything. How about this: for a while, just order takeout. Focus on getting better and try not to overthink things.” I lay back on the bed, feeling defeated. But I still didn’t believe the tonic was harmless. I collected the residue from the shattered bowl. This time, I sent it to a well-known psychic. Leo’s college entrance exams were over. It was only a few days until the date I’d lost my liver in my past life. I couldn’t let my guard down. I ate only one meal a day, prepared and delivered by my own mother. But two hours before the exam results were to be announced, I unexpectedly fell asleep. I dreamed that my son, who had always been at the bottom of his class, scored a 690. I was shaken awake by Leo himself. “Mom! I got a 690!” he shouted, ecstatic. A searing pain shot through my abdomen, and my face went pale. I had been so careful. How was this happening again? As the doctors wheeled me away, I saw Leo staring at my IV drip… with a smile on his face. My heart sank to the bottom of my stomach. The liquid in the IV bag was a faint, pale green. Like diluted Dream-Soothing Tonic. 4 When I woke up again, the doctor looked at me with pity. “I’m sorry. You suffered from sudden acute liver necrosis. We had to remove half of your liver.” The incision in my abdomen throbbed. Leo was crying his eyes out. “Don’t be scared, Mom! I’ll get into a great school, and I’ll make something of myself so I can take good care of you!” Joey hugged me tightly. “Honey, what is happening? Why is our luck so bad?” My eyes were vacant. I had thought Leo was oblivious to all of this. But that one look I saw before I passed out sent a chill through my soul. They all knew. They all knew the tonic was dangerous, and they were deliberately using my life to secure their own good fortune. I wouldn’t let them win. I would not close my eyes again until the psychic gave me an answer. As long as I didn’t dream, I was safe. After three sleepless days and nights, the psychic contacted me. “Are you, by nature, a person who does not dream?” I sat up, my heart pounding. “Yes! How did you know?” The psychic sighed. “That explains it. There is a dark, karmic ritual involving a Fortune Transference Tonic. It allows a person to make their dreams a reality, but at a cost of flesh and blood.” “Normally, a person’s dreams are too chaotic to control. But if the desired dream is written on a special talisman, burned, and dissolved into the tonic, then fed to a naturally dreamless person, the dream can be controlled.” “And the corresponding backlash is borne entirely by the dreamless one.” I gasped. So that was it. That’s why it only ever affected me. The psychic continued, his voice grave. “You have already paid the price twice. A third time will likely cost you your life.” “This tonic is incredibly potent. A single drop is enough. It will be almost impossible to guard against.” I begged him to help me. He sent me a talisman and told me to place it under my pillow. After three days, I was to burn it to ash, mix it with water, and drink it. It would nullify the tonic’s effects. I hid the talisman from Joey and Leo, just as the psychic instructed. Joey started visiting more frequently. He was getting impatient. Three days later, he brought me a bowl of bird’s nest soup. “Honey, Dad was so worried when he heard you were sick. He insisted I bring this for you.” The soup was in a pristine white porcelain bowl. But I could have sworn it had a greenish tint. I claimed I was feeling unwell and refused to drink it. Joey’s face twisted into a snarl. He grabbed my chin, forcing my jaw open. “My father is dying of cancer, and he’s still worried about you! How can you be so ungrateful?” He was stronger than me. The soup was poured down my throat. Joey smiled, satisfied. “There, that’s better. I’m only doing this for your own good.” Just then, the pillow on the bed slipped to the floor, revealing the talisman underneath. Joey snatched it up. “What is this?” This was my last chance. I bit down hard on his hand, grabbed the talisman, and quickly burned it. I mixed the ashes with the dregs of the soup he had brought and drank it all down. “It’s the Fortune Transference Tonic, isn’t it?” I laughed, a wild, desperate sound. “I already know everything!” The color drained from Joey’s face. But for some reason, my eyelids were growing heavy. As I collapsed onto the bed, the third dream began. I dreamt my father-in-law’s cancer was miraculously cured. I struggled to wake up, and when I did, I coughed up a mouthful of blood. I was on the operating table before I could even process what had happened. I drank the counter-talisman, just like he said. Why did I dream again? My breathing became shallow. A doctor shouted, “Her heart rate is dropping! Get the defibrillator!” My vision blurred. Am I going to die again? I fought to keep my eyes open, wanting one last look at the world. And suddenly, my pupils constricted. That’s it. I finally understood the truth.

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In one week, I’m boarding a flight for a medical mission in the remote Rockies, and then I’ll never have to see Victoria again. I found out about everything a month ago. Including the secret of the child growing inside her. Just now, she went to the restroom and handed me her phone to hold. The screen lit up with a message from her best friend: Hey, prenatal checkup today. Make sure your husband isn’t with you. I scrolled up through the chat history and found something that hit me like a physical blow. Her friend had asked when she planned on telling her husband she was pregnant with some college kid’s baby. Victoria’s reply: I promised him one life, one love, just the two of us. If I break that promise, we’re over. For good. So she had decided never to tell me. To let the secret die with her. She even wrote that she’d have the child call me Dad. Just then, Victoria returned. She guided my hand to my cane and cooed, “I was only gone for three minutes and I missed you like crazy.” She didn’t notice that my sight had returned weeks ago. She didn’t see me watching her, really seeing her, from behind the dark lenses of my sunglasses. 1 I placed the phone back in her hand and urged her to go on home. “I can handle submitting my resignation myself. You should head back.” Victoria’s brow furrowed, ready to insist on staying with me. But then, a voice called out from across the hall. “Vic! Fancy seeing you here. Did you get my text?” A young man with an easy smile strolled over. “Coming to the hospital, and you didn’t bring Henry along to help?” Victoria froze, a wave of panic washing over her face. She leaned in close to the newcomer and whispered harshly, “Can’t you see him standing right here?” The guy, unfazed, simply waved a hand right in front of my face. Then he gave Victoria a playful nudge. “Relax. Henry here wouldn’t know a thing, no matter what you get up to.” He grinned at me. “A smart man knows when to let his woman be, right, Henry?” I just nodded along. “Go with your friend. You don’t have to stay with me.” With that, I turned and walked away. Victoria reached for my hand, but the young man, Liam, intercepted her, his expression a mask of feigned hurt. “Vic,” he whined, “you’re not going to leave me to go to the appointment for our baby all alone, are you?” Her feet stopped moving. Her hand instinctively found his and squeezed it. Her voice, when she spoke, was syrupy sweet, a tone I’d never heard her use before. “Of course not, silly.” When I submitted my resignation, the hospital director was overjoyed to hear my vision had recovered. But then he asked, again and again, if I was absolutely certain about the medical mission in the Rockies. It was a three-year commitment. I just gave him a firm, steady nod. Leaving the director’s office, I walked past the ultrasound room. Through the crack in the door, I saw it all. Liam, his ear pressed gently against Victoria’s stomach, listening. And Victoria, her hand stroking his hair with a tenderness she once reserved for me. Liam planted a soft peck on her belly, and she let out a little gasp of a laugh. A nurse nearby reminded her to avoid any strenuous activity for the time being. Victoria nodded dutifully, but her friends, gathered around, couldn’t contain their giggles. “Oh, how’s our boy here supposed to contain all his… energy!” one of them teased. Liam ducked his head, a shy smile on his face, and mumbled, “Yeah, I mean, we were all over each other on your and your husband’s bed just a few days ago.” It was the first time I had ever seen Victoria blush like that. The others piled on. “This is more like the Vic we know! Seriously, what’s a blind man like Henry Anderson got to offer you anymore?” “Besides, even if he found out, what could he do? No one wants a blind man. He’d never leave you.” The blush vanished from Victoria’s face, replaced by a dark, thunderous expression. “Don’t you dare let a word of this get back to him. Understand?” she warned, her voice low and sharp. Her friends just waved her off dismissively. “Yeah, yeah. You and Liam could do it right in front of his face every day and he’d never know.” “Relax, Vic. It’s fine.” Just then, a nurse behind me called out. “Dr. Anderson? You left this in the director’s office.” The chatter inside the ultrasound room died instantly. Victoria shot up from her seat, her eyes wide with panic as they darted toward me. “Henry,” she stammered, her voice trembling slightly, “you… you didn’t hear anything just now, did you?” A flicker of guilt crossed her face, but she didn’t seem to notice that her hand was still intertwined with Liam’s. “I just got here. Didn’t hear a thing.” She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Then, she quickly added, “I was just here with my friend. For her and her husband’s prenatal checkup.” As she spoke, Liam hooked his pinky around hers, his eyes meeting mine over her shoulder with a look of pure provocation and contempt. I lowered my head. “I’m heading home. You guys carry on. I won’t disturb you.” I turned and walked away, my pace quickening until it felt like I was running. Once in my car, I stared out at the blur of traffic, a knot tightening in my chest. A bitter sting pricked my eyes, and my vision blurred for a different reason now. Even though I had already made my decision to leave, the pain was a physical, crushing weight. Before the accident, my eyes were fine. I once had a patient, a man who had gone blind. His family treated him like a burden, and the woman he loved left him without a second thought. I remember telling Victoria about it, and she’d said with such conviction, “That kind of woman is just trash.” She swore that even if the world ended, she would love me until her last breath. And now, here we were, at a fork in the road. And I was choosing my path first. Back home, I collapsed onto the floor, the stark white light of the ceiling fixture stabbing at my newly healed eyes. I met Victoria in a university club. She was the campus queen—perfect grades, scholarships piling up. I fell for her the moment I saw her. She was gentle even in her rejections. Every day, I’d stand under her dorm window like a fool, bringing her breakfast I’d made myself, even as she politely turned me down. Until the day one of the guys she’d rejected came at her with a knife. I stepped in front of her. And that was how I lost my sight. My future, shattered. The surgeon I was meant to be became a psychologist. In that chaotic moment, she had pressed her trembling hands to my bleeding eyes, her voice choked with tears. “Henry, I’ll be your girlfriend, just please, don’t scare me like this.” And so we were together. She was relentless in my recovery, massaging my eyes every day, buying the best medical equipment. She promised to be my eyes. The sound of the lock turning snapped me back to the present. Victoria stepped inside. Seeing me sitting there in the dark, she chided gently, “Why are you still up? It’s so bad for your eyes.” I didn’t answer. She must have sensed the shift in my mood. She came closer, leaning in to kiss my eyes as she always did. But my gaze fell on the man’s jacket draped over her shoulders, and a wave of revulsion washed over me. I flinched away, pushing her back. A look of stunned surprise crossed her face. The timing of my recovery had been a cruel twist of fate. A month ago, I woke in the middle of the night to a sharp, stabbing pain in my eyes. I blinked them open, and to my astonishment, I could see. The world rushed back in blurry shapes, then sharpened into focus. I turned my head, ecstatic, ready to wake Victoria and share the miracle. But I saw a third person in our bed. Liam and Victoria, tangled together right beside me. At the height of their passion, I heard her whisper, “Keep it down… you’ll wake him.” I choked back a sob, clamping my hand over my mouth to stifle the sound. I didn’t sleep a wink that night. The next day, I applied for the medical mission in the Rockies. “Henry, don’t scare me like this.” Victoria’s voice was laced with a genuine, painful confusion. I brought myself back to the present, closing my eyes. “I’m just tired. That’s all.” But her mind was already racing, connecting dots I hadn’t intended for her to see. “Henry, this morning at the hospital, I swear I was just there with my friend for her checkup.” Suddenly, she wrapped her arms around me, holding me tight. Her voice trembled. “Henry, I love you, as God is my witness. If I didn’t have you, I don’t know who would ever love me.” That night, she clung to me as she slept, her arm a dead weight across my chest. She never let go, as if she was terrified I’d vanish by morning. The next day, she prepared a huge breakfast, a feast laid out just for me. She watched with hopeful eyes as I sat down to eat. It was the middle of summer, but she was wearing a turtleneck. If I hadn’t seen the dark, angry love bites on her neck the night I regained my sight, I might have asked her if she was feeling sick. She noticed my gaze and looked away. “I think I’m coming down with a cold.” My stomach churned. I forced down a few bites before putting my fork down. Victoria watched me with a worried expression, then suggested we go on a date. This time, she didn’t grab my cane. She led me by the hand straight to the car. As I settled into the passenger seat, my eyes landed on a pair of men’s briefs lying on the floor mat. Victoria’s face went pale. She snatched them up, folded them neatly, and stuffed them into her pocket. She drove us to an orphanage on the outskirts of the city. She seemed to know the place well, pulling me by the hand toward a group of children playing in the yard. She passed out candy, encouraging the kids to come and talk to me, to cheer me up. Their laughter was a balm, and for a while, the knot of tension in my shoulders began to ease. Victoria watched me the entire time, rushing to my side if I stumbled while playing with the kids, her hands hovering, ready to catch me. When she finally saw a genuine smile on my face, she visibly relaxed. Then, when the moment felt right, she approached me, her voice soft and gentle. “Henry, you’ve always wanted a child, haven’t you?” “I have some wonderful news. I’m pregnant!” As if on cue, Liam appeared, walking slowly toward us. Victoria pulled the folded briefs from her pocket and discreetly passed them to him. He gave her a knowing look. Then, she took my hand and placed it on her flat stomach. “This is my friend’s husband,” she explained smoothly. “He’s been a great help to her during her pregnancy. Since it’ll be harder for me to take care of you now, I was thinking… maybe he could move in with us for a while? To help you out?” The joy I’d felt playing with the children evaporated. A chill spread through my veins. My voice was colder than I had ever heard it. “Are you sure it’s my child?” Rage, hot and blinding, surged through me. Help me? Or help them carry on their affair under my own roof? Make me a father to her lover’s child? I wasn’t interested. My question made Victoria flinch. “Henry, what are you saying? That’s not a funny joke.” The rage boiled over. In a single, fluid motion, I spun around and drove my fist into Liam’s jaw. He crumpled to the ground. The next thing I knew, Victoria was screaming at me. “Henry Anderson, you’ve gone too far this time!” It was the first time she’d ever used my full name. The first time she’d ever raised her voice to me in anger. I let out a bitter laugh, playing right into Liam’s hands. “So what if I have?” For a second, her hand rose, ready to slap me. But it hung there, trembling in the air, for what felt like an eternity. Finally, she lowered it, her jaw tight. “I’m taking Liam to get some ice for his face,” she said, her voice strained. “You can find your own way home.” She helped Liam to his feet and wrapped her arm around his, leading him away without a backward glance. After she left, the sky opened up. A cold, driving rain began to fall. It seemed she had forgotten she hadn’t brought my cane. She had forgotten what it was like for a blind man to be abandoned in an unfamiliar place, with no one to guide him. But I wasn’t blind anymore. I walked over to a nearby trash can, pulled the dark glasses from my face, and dropped them inside. With my own eyes, clear and sharp, I looked down the road and walked out of that place for good. In the final days before my flight to the Rockies, Victoria was rarely home. When she was, a message would pop up on her phone, and she would leave in a hurry. Believing I couldn’t see, she made no effort to hide the screen. That’s how I discovered her second account, a private one she used to message only one person: Liam. Three days before I left, Liam posted a picture of an ultrasound on his social media. Friends commented on how much the baby already looked like Victoria. That day, I took everything Victoria had ever bought me on our dates and donated it to the orphanage. Two days to go. Victoria’s private account posted a photo of a heart-shaped breakfast she’d made for Liam. I listed the wedding suit she’d bought me on a second-hand website. The final day. Liam used Victoria’s main account to post a picture of her sleeping peacefully. The comments were flooded with congratulations. My flight was boarding soon. I picked up my suitcase, ready to walk out the door. And then she appeared. She stood in the doorway, phone in hand, her eyes red and swollen. “Henry,” she demanded, her voice shaking with rage, “why is your name on the list for the Rockies medical mission?!” Her words barely registered. Of course. As the Head of Surgery, she would have to approve the list of volunteers. Her agitation was a stark contrast to my own profound calm. “I wanted to go, so I went. What’s the problem?” “The problem? It’s a three-year post, Henry! Three years! Not three hours, not three minutes! If you’re not here, what am I supposed to do all by myself?” she shrieked, all composure gone. I gave a small, careless shrug. “Oh, but you’re not alone. You have Liam. And, of course, your baby.”

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At the company victory party, Sophia took the mic and announced to everyone that she wanted a new husband. The words hit me like a physical blow, freezing me where I stood. But down in the crowd, a young man named Ryan erupted in laughter. He loudly mocked the idea of an old guy like me being scared stiff at the thought of being dumped. He then urged Sophia to make good on their bet. She’d wagered the most, he crowed, and now she owed him a cool $5,200. The room joined in, roaring with laughter. Sophia, without a second glance at me, stepped off the stage. After transferring the money, she even playfully nuzzled against Ryan’s chest. Only then did she turn back to me, her voice light and dismissive. “It was just a joke, Alex. We were just having fun with the kid, livening things up. Don’t take it seriously.” She must have thought I’d swallow my pride and let it go, just like I always did. But this time, I picked up the microphone. “Funny you should say that, Sophia,” I said, my voice perfectly calm. I let the silence hang for a beat before adding, “Because my wish was exactly the same.” 1 The laughter died instantly. Sophia’s face darkened. “Everyone’s just messing around,” she snapped. “What are you trying to prove?” Before I could answer, she waved a dismissive hand at the crowd, her tone dripping with condescension. “Our CEO, Mr. Reed, has been a bit emotionally unstable lately. I apologize on his behalf.” Ryan tilted his head, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “Could it be a mid-life crisis? Tell me, Sophia, can you smell the old man on him when you’re in bed at night?” He clapped a hand over his mouth in mock innocence. Sophia feigned a scolding tone. “Ryan, don’t be rude.” But the look in her eyes, the tone of her voice… there was no reprimand in it. Only pure, unadulterated indulgence. Ryan caught it, too, and his arrogance swelled. A chorus of snickers rose from the crowd. The eyes on me were filled with mockery and contempt. A sharp pain lanced through my chest, a spiderweb of hurt spreading through my body. Ten years. I had been with her from nothing, watched her build an empire. And this was my reward: to be publicly shamed while she shielded a younger man, treating me as if I were worthless. I swallowed the bitterness in my throat and took a deep breath. “Ryan,” I said, my voice steady, “you should know that illegal gambling and public slander are grounds not just for termination, but for a lawsuit. I could have you arrested.” The color drained from Ryan’s face. He shot a panicked look at Sophia. Their shared glance was a knife in my gut. In the next second, she stepped forward. Just like she used to do for me, she planted herself firmly in front of Ryan, a human shield. “Don’t you pull that ‘boss’ act with me, Alex Reed,” she spat. “Weren’t you the one who cried his eyes out ten years ago when you got fired over two hundred dollars?” I looked at her, and a bitter laugh almost escaped my lips. She was right. If she hadn’t gotten into that fight back then, I wouldn’t have been fired. I wouldn’t have been two hundred dollars short on rent, feeling like my world was ending. Back then, she had cupped my tear-stained face, her eyes fierce and devoted. “Anyone who dares to hurt you,” she’d sworn, “I’ll give my life to make them pay.” Now, the very person who had promised to protect me for life was the one holding the umbrella that sheltered the man stabbing me in the back. The irony was suffocating. Tired of the standoff, Sophia grabbed my arm and dragged me into an adjacent private room. She shoved me hard. The new leather shoes I was wearing, stiff and unforgiving, dug into my ankle, drawing blood. I hissed in pain. Sophia paused, her voice cold. “You insist on wearing them even if they don’t fit. Always making things harder for yourself. No wonder you have to pick on a kid like him.” “If you’re done, you should just go home. I’m busy.” Without another glance, she turned and left. I sat on the sofa, stunned, for a long time before I finally pulled out my phone. An employee had posted from the party. Ryan’s post was the most prominent. Just two pictures. One was a screenshot of the $5,200 transfer. The memo read: From my idol~ The other was a photo of him and Sophia, their heads close together. Ryan looked blissful; Sophia was smiling down, a soft look on her face. The comments were full of his thinly veiled jabs about me being bad-tempered and unromantic. I looked down at the expensive, ill-fitting shoes on my feet and finally accepted the truth. Some people are only with you for the struggle, not the success. The warmth of the past, the promises—they were real. But the coldness of the present, the change of heart—that was real, too. I picked up my phone. The two cruise tickets I’d booked months ago stared back at me. I had tried so many times to patch up the thousand little cracks in our ten-year history. But now, with a simple tap of my finger, I cancelled Sophia’s ticket. Then, I made an appointment with a divorce lawyer. For the rest of my journey, I realized, I no longer had to wait for anyone. It was late when I got home. In my dreams, I was back in the blizzard from ten years ago. In our tiny rented room, Sophia and I huddled together for warmth. No parents, no connections, just our own two hands to build a life. Back then, I was constantly anxious about being five years older than her. But one day, she came home, a mysterious smile on her face. She rolled up her sleeve to reveal my name, Alex Reed, freshly and bloodily carved into the pale skin of her forearm. Her eyes shone with a frightening intensity as she rushed to reassure me. “See? Now you don’t have to be scared. If I, Sophia, ever stop loving you, my life has no meaning.” Those days of struggling, of finding warmth in each other, churned over and over in my sleep. When I opened my eyes, I was back in the fractured reality of the present. Sophia was sitting by the bed, her voice devoid of emotion. “So you just hide under the covers and sulk when I’m not home? Alex, what would it cost you to just soften up a little?” I turned my back to her, unwilling to speak. She took a deep breath and sat on the sofa behind me. “You know, Alex,” she said casually, “you can’t even give me a child. By all rights, I’ve already done more than enough for you.” “And I came back today to tell you that Ryan is dealing with depression. I need you to stop targeting him.” Her tone was light, but her words plunged a knife into my deepest wound. I shot up, grabbing the bedside lamp and hurling it at her. My voice was a ragged tremor. “Sophia, if I hadn’t walked for two hours in that blizzard to close that deal for you, our little Lily would be here right now, calling me ‘Daddy’!” “How can you say that, Sophia? Are you even human?” Maybe the raw vulnerability on my face was too much for her. She looked at my reddened eyes, and her expression finally softened. “I can’t be expected to chain myself to a man who brings no value, can I? You know, even the most loyal woman gets tired.” I wiped a tear from the corner of my eye, my laugh sharp with scorn. “What? And I’m supposed to be grateful for that?” A flicker of anger finally ignited in her eyes. “Are you ever going to let it go? In the end, it was your carelessness that we lost Lily. You deserve this!” “Ryan is so much younger than you, but he’s a hundred times more thoughtful. Look at you now! You’re being completely irrational!” She slammed the door on her way out. I didn’t sleep a wink that night. The next morning, Ryan was the first person I saw at the office. He sauntered in with a cup of coffee, his smile a venomous sneer. “Alex, Sophia told me last night I need to take good care of my body. I guess she’s finally tired of a man like you.” I didn’t even look up from my desk. “Take care of it for what? To be a better toyboy?” Ryan’s face changed, and he opened his mouth to retort, but then we both heard Sophia’s footsteps approaching. He lurched forward, “accidentally” spilling the scalding coffee all over me. My arm instantly turned an angry red. He grabbed me, his fingers digging into my flesh. “Mr. Reed, I was sincerely trying to apologize! Even if you don’t like me, you could at least cut me some slack, knowing my health isn’t good.” Sophia kicked open my office door. “Alex, don’t push it! Do you really think you can do whatever you want?” “I’m telling you, if anything happens to Ryan, I will make you pay!” With that, she helped Ryan to his feet and walked out, right in front of a crowd of gawking employees. The burning pain in my arm was nothing compared to the desolation that flooded my heart. Before I could even form a response, a sharp pain lanced through my chest. My vision went black, and I collapsed. When I came to, I was in a hospital bed. As I struggled to sit up, a nurse who had come to change my dressing gently pushed me back down. “You have a weak heart,” he said. “You can’t overwork yourself like this. Don’t be so reckless with your job.” I froze, staring at him in disbelief. Just then, Sophia’s voice echoed from the hallway. She strode in, her eyes completely void of concern. “You really know how to put on a show, Alex. Ryan’s in the hospital, so you have to be in the hospital too? Are you that desperate for attention?” I looked up at her, intending to tell her what the doctor had said about my heart. But her baseless accusations made any explanation feel pointless. The passion I once had for her had long since rotted away, silenced by her constant, blatant favoritism. Seeing my silence, her voice grew colder. “Fine. Play your little games for as long as you want. I’m not participating.” She turned and left. The room was deathly quiet. I placed a hand over my chest, which for the moment felt steady. As soon as I’m discharged, I thought, I’m leaving. Leaving Sophia, and leaving this place of endless pain. The exhaustion of the past few days washed over me, and I drifted off to sleep. When I opened my eyes again, it was pitch black outside. And standing by my bed, holding my medical chart, was Ryan. Hearing me stir, he whipped his head around, his eyes burning with resentment and malice. “Alex, why did you have to pick now to fight me?” I tried to push myself up, but my body felt leaden. Ryan saw me move and immediately assumed I was going to call for Sophia. He stepped forward, blocking my path, his voice twisted with hate. “Shameless! You cling to your position as Mr. Reed, and now you’re pretending to be sick to solidify your status.” I had no energy to argue. I reached for the call button on the bedside table. But Ryan shrieked and lunged at me. “Since you won’t listen to reason, then you can just die with that broken heart of yours!” The unexpected force of his shove sent me off balance. My chest slammed hard into the corner of the nightstand. An explosion of pain erupted in my chest, radiating through my entire body. The world spun. I felt a warm trickle of blood at the corner of my mouth. The door to the room opened—I don’t know when—and Sophia rushed in. I saw her brow furrow in concern as she started towards me. “Sophia, help me…” Before I could finish, Ryan grabbed her arm, his grip like a vise. He clutched his own chest, his voice trembling and pitiful. “Sophia, it’s not Alex’s fault. I’m the one to blame for falling in love with you. If punishing me makes him happy and makes things easier for you, then I’m willing to accept it.” “But Sophia,” he choked out, tears streaming down his face, “my chest… it hurts so much. Am I going to be okay?” Sophia’s expression changed in an instant. The flicker of concern in her eyes when she looked at me was replaced by cold accusation. “Alex, losing Lily doesn’t give you the right to make everyone else pay for your misery! You’ve gone too far this time!” “I couldn’t save Lily. I refuse to lose another.” She gently helped Ryan up and hurried out of the room. The door slammed shut, leaving me alone. Sticky blood soaked the collar of my shirt. I slowly closed my eyes. I knew that my battered, broken heart had just been crushed one last time. I was woken up by my phone. It was a voice message from Sophia. No apology, no concern. Just a perfunctory, matter-of-fact statement. “Ryan wants to see the ocean, so I’m taking him. There’s no one here to watch your performance, so you can stop the act.” I slowly lowered the phone, placing a hand on the dull ache in my chest. The pain was gone now, replaced by an endless, echoing numbness. I opened my contacts and found my old friend, James. I arranged to transfer all of my company shares and business assets to him. I had considered an amicable divorce, for old times’ sake. Now, it seemed, that was no longer necessary. In the days that followed, I focused on two things: my recovery and finalizing the divorce settlement and asset transfers. Once everything was in order, I went back to the house to pack. The place was a mess, littered with traces of her and Ryan. I ignored it all, quietly packing my things. There was no nostalgia, no regret. Halfway through, Sophia called. “Ryan’s not feeling well. Move out so he can move in.” I tossed the wedding photo from the wall into a box. “Okay,” I said calmly. There was a silence on the other end of the line. She clearly hadn’t expected me to agree so easily. In the past ten years, whenever a situation like this had come up, I would have fought her, screaming and refusing. A note of surprise crept into her voice. “This is our marital home. Have you forgotten?” My hands stilled. A bone-deep chill spread through me. So she did remember what this place meant to me. And yet, she still chose to trample on it, to provoke me in the cruelest way possible. I composed myself. “It’s fine,” I said softly. “Do whatever you want.” My compliance seemed to infuriate her. “Fine. Great. Since you don’t care about anything, then you can give your General Manager position to Ryan!” I didn’t say another word. I hung up, mailed the package, and checked the time. My cruise departed in five hours. Just as I was about to leave, a crew of workers swarmed in and started demolishing the interior of the house. I stopped them, frowning. “Who let you into my home?” The foreman didn’t even look up. “Ms. Sophia’s orders. Tear everything down and redecorate it to Mr. Ryan’s liking.” Just then, Ryan appeared at the door, a triumphant smirk on his face. “See, Alex? No matter how much you struggle, Sophia chose me in the end. You should just give up.” I looked at his smug face and found it laughable. Not bothering to argue, I walked towards the elevator. But as the doors opened, I came face-to-face with Sophia. “Where are you going?” “A business trip.” Hearing this, her posture relaxed slightly. “Don’t think you can use a business trip as an excuse to miss the promotion meeting,” she said. “I’m telling you, you have to be there!” I didn’t even spare her a glance as I stepped into the elevator. How could she know that in a few hours, I would be on a cruise ship? And that after the trip, I would be flying directly to James’s country. Never to return. Sophia watched me go, her voice laced with a petulant threat. “You’d better not regret this, Alex Reed! When you come back crying and begging me to take you back, I won’t!” The elevator doors closed, and the world outside fell away. I had finally left behind the place that held all my youth and all my pain. Sophia, still thinking I was just throwing a tantrum, decided to play along. At Ryan’s promotion meeting, all the company executives were present. Ryan clutched his chest, looking weakly at Sophia. “Sophia, do you think… do you think Alex didn’t come because of me? It’s all my fault. If I hadn’t accepted the promotion…” Sophia’s brow was furrowed, her displeasure obvious. “He’s taking this tantrum too far, bringing it into a company meeting. When he gets back, I’ll make sure he apologizes to you.” She said it with such certainty, as if I would walk through the door at any second, crying and admitting I was wrong. Just then, there was a soft knock on the conference room door. The receptionist walked in with a local courier package. “Ms. Sophia, this is for you. The sender said it was a special gift and that you had to sign for it personally.” Sophia’s eyes lit up. A small, almost imperceptible smile touched her lips. This had to be it. My peace offering. She had won again. Her voice held a hint of eager anticipation. “Open it.” The assistant did as she was told, but the next second, her face paled. Inside, there were no flowers, no apology note. Just two documents. One was a signed divorce agreement. The other was a share transfer certificate.

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1 I became a wisp of smoke, hovering in the interrogation room. Below me, Gideon, the country’s most wanted drug lord, was finally caught. He used to be my boyfriend. Everyone was searching for me, the “dirty cop who went rogue for love.” The department even live-streamed the interrogation. The lead interrogator was my father—the narcotics captain who swore to arrest me himself. He slammed the table, roaring, demanding to know where I was. But Gideon just laughed, tears streaming down his face. “You hate her?” he asked scornfully. “Without the intel she gave her life to pass, how could you have caught me?” “I thought she loved me completely. I never imagined she was undercover!” His eyes were red, almost bleeding. “I couldn’t bear to kill her, but she was so damn tough. I had to break her bones, one by one, to make her crack.” Then Gideon’s tone changed. “Captain Stevens, the text that sold out your daughter… it was sent from your phone. Your precious adopted daughter did it.” The broadcast fell silent. My father laughed sharply. “Nonsense! Lies even now! My traitorous daughter put you up to this!” I watched the disgust on his face and screamed without sound: Dad, he’s telling the truth. In the end, they didn’t leave me a single whole bone. … “Captain Stevens, I feel sorry for Kate. Does her death not even earn a shred of your sympathy?” “You’re still protecting that adopted girl of yours.” Gideon’s laughter was choked with tears. My father shot to his feet, but his deputy grabbed his arm, holding him back. “Captain, we’re live.” My father braced his hands on the interrogation table, his voice low and dangerous. “I’ll ask you one last time. Where is Kate? Tell me, and I’ll get you a lighter sentence.” “I’ve got enough on me to be executed ten times over. What do I need a lighter sentence for?” Gideon sneered. “But I do want to see you suffer for the rest of your life.” “The abandoned mine at Black Ridge.” Gideon wiped the tears from his face, his smile that of a madman. “Go take a look, Captain Stevens. See if you can piece your daughter back together.” My father’s pupils shrank. His hand froze in mid-air. “Lies,” he rasped, his voice unrecognizable. “Kate isn’t dead. This is all a setup. The wicked live long lives.” He repeated it, as if trying to convince himself. “She was always so afraid of pain. There’s no way… she could have survived torture.” That’s right, Dad. I was always so afraid of pain. When I was little, a scraped knee was enough to make me cry until you comforted me for hours. But Dad, when I was strapped to that iron chair, I shattered three of my own molars from biting down so hard, and I never said a single word. It wasn’t that I wasn’t afraid. It was that I couldn’t be. Because I am a police officer. You taught me that yourself, Dad: to serve and protect, to lay down my life for my country. The deputy jotted down the coordinates. The live feed was cut. My father strode out of the room. Nina saw him storming out and cautiously offered him a glass of water. “Dad, have a drink. I brought you some soup.” The tension in my father’s face eased slightly. He took the glass and patted her shoulder. “Good girl. Don’t hang around the station. Go home and wait.” Nina’s eyes welled with tears. “Dad, I swear I never used your phone to send any messages! Gideon is just trying to turn you against me!” “Kate didn’t even care about getting revenge for Mom, who was killed by drug dealers. She was determined to run off with that monster.” “Now Gideon is probably just trying to clear her name, making up this horrible story about her being dead and in pieces just to break your heart!” The anger my father had just suppressed erupted again. “Don’t mention that traitor! She deserves to be dead, and if she isn’t, I’ll shoot her myself!” “Everyone, get ready to move out. I’m going to see what kind of sick game she’s playing!” I floated in the air, a sharp, stabbing pain piercing my non-existent heart. It hurt more than when Gideon was shattering my bones. It was always like this. All Nina had to do was shed a few tears, whisper a few poisonous words, and everyone would rush to her side. When I was sixteen, I took a knife for Nina, and it went clean through my shoulder. But Nina just cried and said, “Kate was the one who insisted we take that dark alley.” And my father slapped me so hard my ears rang, calling me a reckless troublemaker. That slap hurt, but not as much as this. Two young officers walking by exchanged a glance. One of them whispered. “Nina is such a good kid. She failed the police academy entrance exam twice, but she’s more devoted to the captain than his own daughter. And look at Kate, a dirty cop, a disgrace to the force. She’s dragged her father’s name through the mud.” The other one nodded. “Don’t even talk about her. People like that deserve to die.” The world of the dead is so cold. 2 The abandoned mine at Black Ridge. The team swept their flashlights across the underground passage. The ground was littered with shattered white fragments, mixed with dried, blackened blood. The medical examiner’s voice was hoarse. “Captain, this could be…” “Can you tell if they’re human or animal bones just by looking?” my father cut him off. The M.E. looked down. “The fragmentation is too severe. I can’t find a single piece larger than two centimeters. We’ll have to take them back to the lab for DNA analysis.” My father looked away. “Send them for testing. I’ll only believe the results.” The team began collecting the remains in silence. My father walked toward a corner, his flashlight beam still searching for any sign that I had staged the scene and escaped. The light fell upon the base of the wall, and he stopped dead. Carved into the stone was a sunflower. The lines were crooked and distorted, etched deep into the rock. The edges were crusted with blackened blood and bits of flesh. When I was nine, my mother was killed in the line of duty. My father, a man of few words, could only point to the side of the road to comfort my sobbing self. “Mom became a sunflower,” he’d said. “She’ll always be watching you grow up.” Every year after that, on the anniversary of her death, we would plant sunflower seeds under the oldest cypress tree in the state forest. It was also where we had buried a time capsule together when I was twelve. The deputy approached him. “Find something, Captain?” “Notify the local precinct. Seal off a two-mile radius around the oldest cypress tree in the forest.” “Kate is trying to lure me there. We’re heading back to the station to sort through the intel first.” My father turned his back to the others, but the fists clenched at his sides were trembling uncontrollably. Dad, just go look under the old cypress tree. There’s a gift there I left for you. … Back at the station, everyone was buzzing about the bone fragments. “They have to be fake. It’s a smokescreen planted by Gideon.” “Exactly. What if there’s a tracker hidden in the bones?” “The Captain said the symbol points to the old tree near his place. It’s definitely a trap.” I thought I had become numb to the pain, but their words still cut deep. I knew every inch of this place, every face. And they were all cursing my name. He sat in his office, staring blankly at our old chat history on his phone. Over a hundred messages from him in the past three years. The first few were angry: “Get your ass back here and face the consequences.” Later, they became more formal: “I’ve signed your arrest warrant. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” The gaps between messages grew longer, until finally, there was just an occasional, desperate question: “…Where the hell are you.” He scrolled through them again and again. Finally, he locked the screen, turned the phone face down on the desk, and buried his face in his hands. I drifted over to him, wanting to give him a hug. But my form passed right through him. I couldn’t even do that one small thing for him anymore. Dad, I always wanted to reply. But I couldn’t. I’m sorry, Dad. I let you down. The office door creaked open. Nina came in with a bowl of soup, her eyes red. She pretended to tidy his desk, but “accidentally” knocked over the only framed photo of my father and me. “I’m sorry, Dad… I’m just so scared,” Nina sobbed, covering her face. “Kate isn’t dead. Those bones are just a trick to fool you! Just now, she had someone send me a message, saying she’ll never let me go, that she’ll kill me to get her revenge…” “Enough!” My father shot up from his chair, his shoe grinding the shattered photo into the floor. “Faking her own death, threatening her family… she’s completely lost her mind!” My father’s fists were clenched, his jaw tight. “Don’t you worry, Nina. This time, I’ll tear this city apart if I have to, but I will drag that monster back here myself.” He picked up the internal phone line. “All units, assemble. We’re heading to the state forest. Full-scale search.” Dad, you still believe her so easily. Why couldn’t you ever believe me? 3 “Captain, we’re five hundred meters from the forest entrance. Should we send in a drone for recon first?” “No need.” My father racked the slide of his pistol. The metallic click was sharp in the night air. “If she’s in there, box her in.” “If she runs, I’ll take her down myself.” I floated beside him, a bitter smile on my lips. You’ll never get the chance to shoot, Dad. I’m already dead. One of the younger officers, Chen, followed behind him, hesitant. “Captain… what if there’s no one in there?” “No one?” My father sneered. “I’ll catch her eventually.” The convoy stopped at the edge of the forest. Flashlight beams cut through the trees. “Report, Captain. No signs of any human activity within the forest.” “Thermal imaging is also clear.” After the bomb squad gave the all-clear, a forensics team began to dig. A shovel hit something hard. It was my time capsule. The metal box was pried open. Inside lay a police badge, and beneath it, a piece of paper with my childish handwriting: “I want to be a hero, just like my dad.” The moment my father saw the badge, a look of pure disgust crossed his face. He snatched it, threw it to the ground, and ground it into the mud with his heel. “Keep digging!” He was the one who had pinned that badge on me. Now, he thought I was unworthy of it. On my graduation day, after he’d pinned on my badge, he had hugged me tightly. “You make me so proud,” he’d said. “Always act in a way that honors this badge.” He had been beaming all day, telling everyone he met, “My daughter takes after me.” Dad, I never once disgraced the badge you gave me. My memory was interrupted by a technician’s excited voice. “We’ve found something critical!” It was a metal box, wrapped in three layers of waterproof material. Inside was a fully sealed, electronically locked crypto-case. The technician examined it from every angle. “Captain, this is high-level encryption. We can’t crack it in the field. We have to take it back.” My father gave the box a cursory glance. “Take it back to the station. Tell the tech department they’re all working overtime.” An emergency meeting was called as soon as they returned. Everyone was convinced the box contained a list of Gideon’s accomplices, or a backup of his distribution network—something Kate had left for herself to leverage a deal. The deputy chief slammed his hand on the table. “If this box contains a list of the network, it means Kate didn’t just go rogue—she was actively involved in drug trafficking.” “Stevens, if the evidence is conclusive, we’ll issue a global arrest warrant immediately.” My father sat at the head of the conference table. His shoulders slumped, then he nodded. “Issue the warrant if you have to.” When did my father start to lose faith in me? It began during my first month on the job. I was leading a stakeout, and my phone was on silent for eleven hours straight. When I got home late that night, exhausted, I was met with his fury. “Do you even remember you’re a police officer?” I stood in the doorway, bewildered. I found out later that Nina had mentioned something to him in passing. She’d been walking past a bar and saw me arguing with some guy with bleached-blond hair. Coincidences like that started happening more and more. A designer watch I’d never seen before would appear in my locker. My work computer would be left open to some disgusting online forum. And every time, Nina would use the most innocent tone, the most delicate words, to convince my father that I was the one responsible. In his eyes, I went from being a promising young officer to a corrupt parasite on the system. It’s not that I didn’t try to defend myself. But he never believed me. After Nina framed me one time too many, we had a massive fight. That was the day my life changed forever.

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They all say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. For thirty years, I believed them. Every single day, I’d craft new dishes for my husband, David. His stomach was weak, so I was careful with every pinch of salt. Then came the storm. I saw him with my own eyes, his arm wrapped around his old flame, Linda, in a cheap diner, the two of them lovingly sharing a single ice cream cone. I returned home, soaked to the bone, only to stumble upon his hidden medical report: stomach cancer. So, not only had he betrayed me, but he was also planning to let me wither away by his side, none the wiser, so he could cash in my life insurance and run off with her. The worst part? The absolute joke of it all? He had the audacity to ask Linda to learn my recipes, to “take over for me” when I was gone. Fine. If he wanted to eat from two kitchens, I’d be more than happy to plan his menu. If Linda made him crab, I’d serve a rich tomato stew. If she seared him lamb chops, I’d prepare a refreshing watermelon salad. Let’s just see how long his broken body could take it. 1 After I retired, I started posting videos of my cooking online. My followers always said a talent like mine shouldn’t be confined to a home kitchen. Last month, someone recommended an international culinary competition. All expenses paid, a trip around the world, a huge cash prize for the winner, and even funding to open your own restaurant. It was an incredible offer, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t tempted. But my hand hovered over the application page for what felt like an eternity. I just couldn’t bring myself to click. My husband, David, had a terribly weak stomach. He needed constant, meticulous care. For thirty years, my carefully prepared meals were the only thing keeping him going. Without me, he wouldn’t have made it this long. I treated him like a king, but he treated me like the hired help. If a dish was too salty or too bland, if the porridge was too thick or too thin, he’d throw his chopsticks down and demand I remake it. For his health, I endured it. For thirty years. This morning, he surprised me by asking me to buy a chicken to make a broth. A warmth spread through my chest. He never liked chicken soup—but I loved it. And today was my birthday. But just as I bought the chicken, the sky opened up in a torrential downpour. I quickly called him, but he just screamed at me. “You idiot! Can’t you do one simple thing right?” He hung up. The little warmth I’d felt was instantly extinguished. I ran home through the rain, but my feet froze when I saw the diner downstairs. There was David, huddled under a single umbrella with his old flame, Linda, the two of them cooing as they shared an ice cream cone. David wrapped his arm around her. “I had the old woman make you some chicken soup. I’ll bring it over tonight to help you warm up.” Linda pouted playfully. “Who wants chicken soup? I want soda and ice cream. I want to be your sweet little baby.” “Of course,” he cooed back. “You’ll always be my sweet little baby.” I stood there in the pouring rain, smelling the stale cooking oil on my clothes and looking at the blisters on my hands. In that moment, I finally understood just how foolish I’d been for thirty years. When I got home, I was soaked through, but I didn’t bother changing. I went straight to the bedroom and started packing. The competition organizers had said there was a flight tonight. Just then, David walked in. As always, his first words to me were, “Hurry up and make dinner.” I ignored him, continuing to pack my suitcase. When he saw I wasn’t moving, his voice rose. “Are you deaf? I’m talking to you! Did you get the chicken? Get in there and make the soup!” I zipped my suitcase shut and finally looked up at him. “I’m leaving. The house is all yours.” He stared at me for a second, then his face twisted in anger. “What’s gotten into you? So I didn’t pick you up in the rain, and now you’re throwing a fit? I was busy helping a friend!” 2 I stared at the corner of his mouth, where a faint smear of ice cream remained. “A friend? What friend?” He licked his lips reflexively. “Just an old friend. You wouldn’t know her.” “The doctor said your spleen is weak. You can’t have cold things. Next time you and Linda have a date, maybe you should eat something else.” With that, I grabbed my suitcase to leave, but he lunged forward and seized my arm. “You were following me! Have you no shame?” I ripped my arm from his grasp. “You’re asking me about shame?” He faltered for a moment, then, unbelievably, he smirked. “Yeah, I saw Linda. So what? Can’t old friends catch up? Why are you so damn paranoid?” I looked at his smug, uncaring face and remembered the time I’d served him soup that was slightly too cool. He’d slammed his bowl on the table and screamed at me all night. Now, to please Linda, he was ignoring his doctor’s orders. Suddenly, the fire in my chest fizzled out. It felt like even being angry was a waste of energy. I didn’t say another word. I just picked up my suitcase and walked out of that house without looking back. On the way to the airport, he called me relentlessly. I ignored every call. A few minutes later, my son called. “Mom, what are you doing? Where are you going to go without Dad? I’m out of state, I can’t take care of you!” “Don’t worry,” I said flatly. “I won’t be a burden to you.” I had just hung up when my daughter’s call came through. I sighed, speaking before she could. “I already told you, you don’t need to worry about me!” There was a pause. “Mom, what are you talking about? I got a raise, and I wanted to take you out for a nice dinner. It’s your birthday.” Hearing her words, the tears I’d been holding back finally broke free. I poured out all the hurt and humiliation from the day. The line was quiet for a few seconds. “Mom,” she said, her voice firm. “You go. Don’t worry about a thing. Even if you lose the competition, it doesn’t matter. I’ll take care of you from now on.” I clutched the phone tighter, a wave of relief washing over me. At least I still had my daughter. “I promise you, honey, I’m going to win. You just wait for me.” At the airport, the texts from David started flooding in: “You’re sixty years old, stop acting like a child! It was just a damn ice cream cone! Get back here and make dinner, I’m starving!” I was done with his nonsense. I turned off my phone. But as I reached the gate, a staff member stopped me. “Ma’am, airline policy requires passengers over sixty to present a recent health report before boarding.” “But I’m in perfect health! Look, I can carry this heavy suitcase with no problem. I’m fine, really.” “I’m sorry, but it’s the rule.” The competition organizer tried to help. “There’s another flight tomorrow morning. Why don’t you go home and get the report?” I gazed at the boarding gate and sighed heavily. Fine. One more night. As soon as the sun came up, I would be free. I heard the sound of laughter as I approached my front door. When I pushed it open, the scene inside made me freeze. David and Linda were on my bed, their clothes in disarray. Linda scrambled to her feet, frantically straightening her shirt. “Susan, don’t get the wrong idea! I was just making David some dinner. You should have some, too.” I let out a cold laugh. “No, thank you. I’m afraid I might catch something.” “What the hell are you talking about?” David snapped. “If it wasn’t for Linda, I would have starved! You’ve got a lot of nerve coming back here! I thought you were so tough.” I ignored him and started searching for my health report. He kept yelling. “Since you’re back, you better start behaving! You pull that face with me again, and you won’t see a single penny from me!” Linda awkwardly picked up her purse. “Well, since Susan’s back, I should probably get going.” 3 David rushed to see her out. I heard their hushed voices from the doorway. “David, you should go check on her,” Linda whispered. “I think she’s looking for that health report.” “Let her find it! Maybe when she sees she has terminal stomach cancer, she’ll finally shut up and stay by my side where she belongs.” “What do you mean? You mean you still have feelings for her?” “Of course not! While she’s alive, she’s a free maid. When she’s dead, I get a fat insurance payout. I’m going to use her until there’s nothing left!” I stared at the report in my hands. My own name, my own diagnosis: mid-stage stomach cancer. My mind went blank, and my hands started to tremble uncontrollably. The man I had painstakingly cared for for thirty years didn’t just see me as a free maid. He was actively waiting for me to die. I looked at the pot of chicken soup still simmering on the stove, and a cold resolve settled over me. If that’s how he wanted to play it, then I would stay. And I would put my heart and soul into every single meal I made from now on. The moment David walked back in, I ladled a bowl of chicken soup and placed it in front of him. “Drink this while it’s hot. I even added a few slices of ginseng for you.” He eyed me with suspicion. “What’s this all about?” I let out a soft sigh. “You’re right, I overreacted today. It was foolish to make such a scene over an ice cream cone.” A smug grin spread across his face. “It’s about time you came to your senses. Besides, where would you go without me?” My voice cracked as I replied, “You’re right. At my age, where else could I go? This house is all I have.” I pushed the soup towards him. He took it and drank the entire bowl in one gulp. I reached for a napkin to wipe his mouth, but he shoved my hand away. “Pathetic. From now on, just stick to your cooking and stay out of my business.” I nodded. “Don’t worry. I’ll be sure to put my heart into every meal.” As the words left my mouth, he clutched his stomach. “Ow! Why does my stomach suddenly hurt so much?” Watching him stumble towards the bathroom, I clenched the empty bowl in my hands. Ginseng and ice cream. That was just the appetizer. David, your reckoning is coming. From the day I “surrendered,” David became even more brazen. At first, he would meet Linda in secret. Now, he brought her right into our home. “You need to teach Linda how to cook properly,” he told me, his tone matter-of-fact. “That way, when you’re gone, she can take over for me.” I gripped the spatula so hard my nails dug into my palm. The old bastard! I wasn’t even dead yet, and he was already training my replacement. Linda chimed in with a sickeningly sweet smile. “David always says what an amazing cook you are. If you teach me, I can help out and you can finally get some rest.” The old me would have sent them packing with a hot pan. But now, I just smiled and nodded. “Of course. I’d be happy to. Just tell me what you want to learn.” And so, David began eating from two kitchens. He’d have lunch at Linda’s, then come home for the dinner I prepared. On the first day, I taught Linda how to make spicy crab. That evening, I served him a hearty beef and tomato stew. On the second day, I showed her how to pan-sear lamb chops. For dinner, I made a chilled watermelon and lotus seed soup. On the third day, I taught her a simple spinach stir-fry. That night, I made him scrambled eggs with loofah squash. In just three days, David’s face turned as sallow as old newspaper. He spent most of his time clutching the toilet, moaning in pain. The doctor couldn’t find anything wrong with him, just advised him to watch his diet and avoid street food. Hearing this, David became even more dedicated to eating our home-cooked meals. 4 A week later, he was nothing but skin and bones. That day, Linda stewed beef for him. I, on the other hand, prepared only a small plate of sugar-roasted chestnuts. When he came home that night, he slammed his briefcase down and flew into a rage. “The doctor told me I need to eat well to protect my stomach, and this is the crap you serve me?” I slowly peeled a chestnut, my voice low. “Do you remember what day it is?” “What day?” “It’s our thirtieth wedding anniversary.” I pushed the peeled chestnut towards him. “The day we got our marriage license, you peeled them for me just like this. You said our life together would always be as sweet as these chestnuts.” He scoffed, his face a mask of impatience. “We’re almost seventy. You really think I have time for this sentimental garbage? Just go make some real food!” I rose slowly, my eyes locked on his. “Do you know why you’ve been having such terrible diarrhea lately?” “Spicy crab with tomato stew. Seared lamb with watermelon soup. It was all part of a menu I carefully designed, just for you.” He shot to his feet, stumbling back a few steps. “What are you saying? You’ve been poisoning me?” I just stared at him in silence. He scrambled to the sink and began to retch violently. “You venomous bitch! I’m calling the police!” A cold smile touched my lips. “Go ahead. Call them right now.” I slapped the life insurance policy down on the table. “Let’s have the police see who bought a massive policy on me. Let them see who deliberately hid my cancer diagnosis from me. Let them see who’s been praying for me to die every single day!” He stared at me for a few seconds, and then a slow, cruel smile spread across his face. “So, you know. No point in hiding it anymore.” “That’s right, I’m waiting for you to die. But I didn’t give you terminal cancer. You can only blame your own bad luck for that.” “I suggest you go back to being a good little wife and taking care of me. You wouldn’t want to make this a bigger mess, would you? If you’re good, I might even buy you a nice burial plot.” I looked at his disgusting face and started to laugh. I pulled another health report from my bag and laid it in front of him. “Such a shame. I went back to the hospital a few days ago. Turns out, they made a mistake. They mixed up our names on the reports. The one with stomach cancer is you, David. Not me.” He snatched the report, his hands trembling as he read it. His face drained of all color. After a long moment, he looked up at me, his eyes wide with fear. “What are you going to do to me?” “You have terminal cancer. Do I really need to do anything? The divorce papers are on the table. I’ve already signed them.” “I’d suggest you call your dear Linda to take care of you. After all, your little pension won’t be enough to hire a nurse.” “Susan,” he whispered, his voice pleading. “You’re joking, right? This is a joke.” I let out a final, cold laugh, picked up my suitcase, and walked out of the house. He screamed my name behind me, but I didn’t turn back. This time, with a clean bill of health in my hand, I passed through security without a problem. But just as I was about to step onto the jet bridge, two police officers stopped me. “Are you Ms. Susan Clark? We’ve received a report that you are a suspect in an attempted murder. Please come with us.”

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During the holiday weekend road trip, Mark insisted on stopping at the abandoned rest stop. He said the car was stuffy and he needed some fresh air. He promised he’d be right back. I waited alone in the car for a full twenty minutes. A gnawing unease made it impossible to just sit there, so I finally got out to find him. When I reached the derelict gas station, the scene before me struck me like a bolt of lightning—Mark and Katina were locked in a passionate kiss. Katina was nestled in his arms, her voice a seductive purr. “Isn’t this thrilling? Your wife is waiting in the car, and you’re out here doing this with me.” Mark let out a low chuckle, his tone indulgent. “You little minx. Keep it down, you don’t want to make my wife angry.” I froze around the corner, my mind flashing back to when he was trying to win me over. I’d told him then that I despised cheaters more than anything in the world because my own father had ruined my mother’s life that way. He had looked me in the eye and said with the utmost seriousness, “Audrey, I would never do that to you. If I ever do… I’m yours to command.” Now, he had betrayed me after all. And everything I had ever given him—it was time to take it all back. 1 I answered a phone call, then turned and walked back to the car. “Audrey!” Mark called out from behind me. I didn’t stop. Katina’s voice followed, laced with tears. “Audrey… I’m so sorry… It’s all my fault…” I pulled open the driver’s side door. “Audrey.” Mark caught up, blocking my way. “Give me the keys,” I said, my voice trembling. “My grandmother is dying. I have to go see her one last time.” “I’ll have someone take care of things with your grandma,” he said after a pause. “The best specialists. They can be there tonight.” I stared at him. Katina had followed, her eyes red as she whispered, “Audrey, please don’t blame Mark… It was me… I seduced him…” Her voice broke, and she hunched her shoulders, looking like a frightened rabbit. Mark glanced at her, then back at me. “Look at her,” he said, his eyes filled with a pained tenderness for her. “She’s a wreck. What more do you want from her?” Katina kept her head down, her shoulders shaking as tears splattered on the pavement. I suddenly remembered her first day at the office. She had stood timidly at my door, holding a bubble tea. “For you, Audrey.” I never drank it. Mark said he did, and that she was a sweet kid. Later, I took pity on her, a girl who had clawed her way out of a small town all by herself. It wasn’t easy. I helped her with everything, at work and in her personal life. When I couldn’t help, I asked Mark to. And just like that, they helped each other right into the same bed. “Mark,” I said, turning to face him. “My grandmother raised me. She’s in the ICU right now, and I need to see her one last time.” “You know how much she means to me, Mark.” My voice was shaking uncontrollably. He didn’t say anything. My phone vibrated again. A text from my mom: Grandma is fading. Where are you? I gripped the phone, my knuckles turning white. Mark saw it. He was silent for a moment, then reached out and gently wiped a tear from the corner of my eye. “Don’t cry,” he whispered, his thumb resting on my cheek for a second. “Grandma will be fine. Trust me.” “Just let her apologize,” he said. “She feels terrible. All you have to do is nod. Then I’ll give you the keys.” Katina sniffled beside him, nodding. “Audrey… please accept my apology… I’ll never be able to live with myself if you don’t…” My grandmother was waiting for me. “Fine,” I said. Katina immediately started, “Audrey, I’m so sorry, it’s all my—” “That’s enough,” I cut her off, my eyes fixed on Mark. “The keys.” Mark handed them to me. “Drive safe. I’ll stay with Katina for a couple of days, and then I’ll come find you.” I ignored him, got in the car, and slammed the door. I put the key in the ignition and turned. The engine roared to life. The car didn’t move. I tried again. The wheels were stuck fast. I got out and saw a large, dark puddle spreading on the ground beneath the car. Someone had punctured the gas tank. Mark walked over and glanced under the chassis, frowning. Katina bit her lip, her voice a tiny whisper. “Audrey… I did it. I just wanted a little more time with Mark… I’m sorry…” Mark reached out and tucked a stray piece of my hair behind my ear. “Don’t be angry,” he said. “I’ll have someone come fix it later.” “You wait in the car,” he said, turning to put his arm around Katina. “I’ll see if I can find some tools.” Katina leaned into his embrace and glanced back at me. Tears still stained her cheeks, but the corner of her mouth twitched into a faint smirk. The sight of them walking away together, his arm around her, was like a knife in my eyes. Just then, my phone buzzed. It was a text from my mom: [Honey, Grandma keeps calling your name. Please hurry.] I stared at the words, my hand clenching around the phone. Then, I pulled the diamond ring from my finger. 2 I had to see my grandmother. I searched the entire rest stop. There were no other cars. No other people. No tools. The cell signal was spotty at best. I finally found a place with a decent connection and called for roadside assistance. But the nearest tow truck wouldn’t be able to get here until morning. A section of the highway had collapsed. I hung up just as Mark walked over. “Audrey, let’s just wait until morning,” he said. “Look, you’ve scraped your arm. Come on, don’t make me worry.” I ignored him. A moment later, my phone lit up. It was my grandmother. I answered immediately. “Grandma.” “Audrey…” Her voice was so weak. “When will you be here?” “I’m on my way, Grandma. I’ll be there soon.” “Oh, honey, I miss you. When you were little, you used to love curling up in my lap and having me tell you stories…” “Grandma, save your strength—” “I’m afraid I’m running out of time,” she said with a soft laugh. “When your grandpa passed, I never got to say a final goodbye. Audrey, you have to live a good life.” Tears streamed down my face. “Audrey, that boy, Mark. Is he good to you?” I didn’t answer. “Audrey.” Mark came up behind me. “Let me use your phone,” he said. “Katina’s is dead, and she needs to send a work email.” I clutched the phone tighter and turned my back to him. “I’m on a call. My grandmother—” “I know,” he said, stepping in front of me. “Just for a minute. She’ll give it right back.” “No.” Mark’s brow furrowed. From the phone, I could hear my grandmother’s faint voice: “Audrey? Honey, are you still there?” “Audrey,” his voice dropped, “this client is crucial for Katina. It determines whether she gets a permanent position.” “I said no.” Katina had appeared at some point, standing behind Mark, her eyes red. “Audrey… please… just for a second… it’s really urgent…” Her voice trembled, and fresh tears welled up. “I won’t be long… I’m begging you…” Mark saw her tears, and when he looked back at me, his expression had hardened. “Give it to me.” He held out his hand. I hid the phone behind my back. “Mark, my grandmother is in the ICU—” He didn’t let me finish. He grabbed my wrist and pried my fingers open. He was so much stronger than me. I held on, my nails digging into my own palm. “Mark!” He yanked it free. He turned and handed the phone to Katina. She took it, tears still on her face, and immediately started typing. I stood there, frozen. My grandmother’s last word, “Audrey?”, echoed in my ear. I wanted to snatch it back. Mark blocked me, his face clouded with anger. “It’s one minute. Can’t you wait?” I looked into his eyes. The same eyes that used to look at me with so much love. Now, there was nothing there. Katina finished and handed the phone back. I looked down. The screen showed her social media profile. She had just posted a new picture. It was a photo of her and Mark at the gas station. His arm was around her waist, and her head was resting on his shoulder. The caption read: [Happy holiday weekend! So happy to be out with my man] I stared at the words. Posted from my phone. A picture of her with my husband. During my grandmother’s last phone call. I looked up at Mark. He glanced at the screen and said dismissively, “She’s just messing around. Why are you making such a big deal out of it?” Messing around. I looked back at my phone. The call with my grandmother had been disconnected. I tried to call back. Her phone was off. I stood there, shaking. Mark came over. “What’s wrong?” I didn’t look at him. “The call with my grandmother dropped.” “Her battery probably died—” Mark was silent for a few seconds. “I’ll figure something out first thing in the morning,” he said. “Don’t panic.” Don’t panic. My grandmother could be dying. She could already be— And he was telling me not to panic. I lifted my head and looked straight at him. “Mark.” “Yeah?” I held his gaze. “Let’s get a divorce.” 3 Mark’s expression finally changed. “What did you just say?” “A divorce. We’ll file as soon as we get back.” He stared at me for a few long seconds. “Audrey—I…” “Ahh—!” Katina’s shriek cut him off. She was crouched by a bench, clutching her leg, her face pale. “A snake! There’s a snake!” she cried, her voice trembling. “It bit me…” Mark glanced at me. Then he turned and ran to her. He knelt down, examining the wound on her calf. Katina grabbed his arm, sobbing hysterically. “Mark, am I going to die…?” “No, you’re not.” Mark ripped a strip of fabric from the bottom of his shirt and tied it tightly above the bite. Just then, we heard the sound of an engine in the distance. Help had arrived. A tow truck pulled up, and the driver hopped out. “You the ones who called for a tow?” Mark stood up and pointed at Katina. “She’s been bitten by a snake. We need to get her to a hospital, now.” The driver looked at Katina’s leg, then at me. “There’s only room for two in the cab. You can ride on the flatbed, but it ain’t safe.” Mark didn’t hesitate. He pulled open the passenger door and helped Katina inside. Then he looked back at me. “Audrey, you wait here. I’ll take her to the hospital, then I’ll call a car for you.” “How long will I have to wait?” I asked. “It won’t be long.” It won’t be long. Again. He got in the truck and closed the door without a moment’s hesitation. I watched, paralyzed, as Mark drove away with another woman. And he left me here. I stood alone at the rest stop. No car. No signal. No water. No food. Mark never looked back. He wasn’t coming back for me. I knew it. Not because he didn’t care anymore, but because he was so sure that I would wait for him. Just like every other time he’d told me to wait, and I had. I rummaged through my bag in the trunk and took stock. Wallet, ID, one credit card. It was enough. I started walking along the highway. I didn’t know how far it was to the next town, or how long it would take. The blisters on my feet had already burst, and every step was agony, but I didn’t stop. 4 After about an hour of walking, headlights appeared behind me. A trucker pulled over. “Hey there, what’s a young lady like you doing out here all alone?” “My car broke down. Could you give me a ride? Just to the next town with a train station.” “Hop in.” In town, I bought a ticket for the earliest train. Once on board, I borrowed a power bank and turned on my phone. Dozens of messages flooded in. Not a single one was from Mark. I dialed my lawyer’s number directly. “Mr. Harris, I need you to draw up divorce papers.” “I want him to walk away with nothing.” There was a pause on the other end. “Leave him with nothing? That’s going to be difficult, unless there’s proof of gross misconduct—” “He had an affair. I have proof. Also, that major client his company has, Vertex Corp? I was the one who brought them in. Their contract is up for renewal next month, and I’ve already spoken with them. They won’t be renewing.” “…Understood. I’ll draft the agreement immediately.” After hanging up, I called my assistant. “Sophie, book me a flight out of the country for this afternoon. Anywhere. The sooner, the better.” “Ms. Vance, are you alright?” “I’m fine,” I said. It was two days before Mark finally had his assistant contact me. “Ben, I need you to get in touch with Audrey for me. Her phone’s off. Tell her I’m at the hospital, Katina is still in critical condition, and I can’t leave. Tell her to wait for me at the rest stop, I’ll send someone for her later.” Ben hesitated. “Mr. Arnold, Ms. Vance… she’s already back.” “What?” “Sir, we’ve… we’ve received a divorce agreement from her lawyer. And… a notice of contract termination from Vertex Corp.” Mark’s mind went completely blank. He stood frozen, all the strength draining from his body. He didn’t move for a long time. “Mr. Arnold? Sir, are you still there?”

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1 A sudden car crash left me lying on the operating table. The moment the anesthesia failed, I opened my eyes in agonizing pain. The lead surgeon standing over me was my husband, Dr. Roe Hayes. His face showed absolutely no surprise. His voice was as casual as if he were discussing the weather. “The people who hit you were your parents,” he said. The words pierced my heart like an ice pick. I trembled, trying to demand an answer, but he didn’t even blink. The cold surgical instruments moved inside me. His voice carried a sick sense of vindictive pleasure. “A year ago, you caused my sister to miscarry. She almost died.” “Now, I am personally removing your three-month-old fetus. Consider us even.” When he held up that tiny, unformed embryo right before my eyes, the reality of what I had just lost finally hit me. A gut-wrenching, soul-tearing hatred surged up my throat, only to be swallowed by a deeper, physical agony. He ordered the nurse to dispose of the tiny life, then turned back to me, his tone conversational. “We either get a divorce so I can openly give her the happiness she deserves…” Seeing my face covered in tears, he added one final condition. “…Or we stay married, but you must accept me taking care of her. You are never allowed to cause her trouble again.” Those words were the final straw that crushed my already snapping nerves. My vision went black, and I passed out entirely. When I opened my eyes again, I was lying in a hospital recovery room. Roe was sitting by the bed, holding a steaming bowl of chicken soup. His gentle tone made it seem like the nightmare in the operating room had never happened. “I made this for Chloe. She couldn’t finish it, so she told me to bring it to you to help you recover.” Hearing the tenderness when he said the name Chloe snapped me back to reality. A wave of nausea hit me. I violently slapped the hot soup away. “Tell me,” I rasped. “When did the two of you start sleeping together?” The bowl shattered on the floor, the scalding liquid burning the back of my hand. Roe slowly wiped the spilled broth from his scrubs. His expression shifted to one of cold amusement. “Hard to say. If you mean the first time we slept together, that was a year ago on our wedding anniversary. Right there in my office. For as long as you kept calling my phone, we kept going.” A loud ringing exploded in my ears. My mind went completely blank. So that night, they had been together the entire time. No wonder I called him dozens of times and he never picked up, only texting back hours later saying he had just gotten out of surgery. I thought he was saving lives. I didn’t blame him. I even brought him late-night takeout. Not long after that, my younger sister, Chloe, was beaten so badly she miscarried after being caught sleeping with a married man. She called me for help. Worried about her reputation, I quietly paid off the angry wife and stayed by Chloe’s side in the hospital until she was discharged. It was exactly after her surgery that Roe’s attitude toward me turned freezing cold. He constantly used being “on-call” as an excuse to not come home for days. Our intimacy dropped from three times a week to me begging just to get his attention once. I thought the distance was just because we were both so busy with our careers. So, I gave up my chance to be promoted to regional manager. I became a stay-at-home wife, dedicating my life to taking care of him. People laughed at me for throwing away my career, but I did it willingly because I loved him. I thought if I just tried harder, our marriage would go back to how it used to be. I never imagined his heart had already been given to someone else—and that someone was my own sister. He had even murdered my deeply longed-for child just for her. I stared dead at Roe, my throat so raw I could barely make a sound. “I’m so sorry, Val!” My sister, Chloe, suddenly burst into the hospital room. With red, teary eyes, she threw herself at the side of my bed, intentionally pressing her hands down hard onto my fresh surgical wound through the blankets. “It’s all my fault! I didn’t mean to hurt you…” Roe immediately reached out to support her, his eyes softening to absolute tenderness. But when he looked at me, his gaze turned to pure ice. “Don’t blame her. She begged me to keep this a secret forever. I just couldn’t stand seeing her suffer in silence anymore. I want to give her a real future.” My heart felt like it was being ripped apart by bare hands. The pain made it impossible to breathe. With bloodshot eyes, I screamed. “What suffering?! I didn’t cause her miscarriage!” “You want to give her a future, so you personally murder our baby?!” The moment the words left my mouth, Roe’s eyes turned lethal. His voice dripped with mockery. “Valerie, why are you playing the victim? Three years ago, when my career was on the line, you left a divorce agreement on the table and vanished without a trace. I never blamed you for that, did I?” 2 I froze in place. Roe continued, his face devoid of emotion. “Back then, it was Chloe who went through hell to get that audio recording to prove my innocence. She was almost pushed off a balcony and killed for it. And when it was all over, it was Chloe who flew to Europe with me to help me recover mentally. You didn’t even ask if I was okay. So what victim are you pretending to be now?” The blood in my veins turned to ice. Memories from three years ago rushed back. Roe had been maliciously sued by a patient’s family, who claimed he intentionally let the patient die because they didn’t pay him a bribe. His reputation was destroyed, and he was facing prison time. To clear his name, I secretly tracked down the family. While arguing with them, I managed to secretly record them admitting they had fabricated the entire story. But as I tried to leave, they realized what I had done and pushed me down a flight of concrete stairs. I broke my leg and lost the baby I had just found out I was carrying. The doctors told me I might walk with a limp forever and that it would be incredibly difficult for me to ever get pregnant again. I didn’t want to drag Roe down, and I didn’t want him to spend the rest of his life feeling guilty because of what happened to me. So, I gave the flash drive with the recording to Chloe, asking her to hand it over to him. I also signed a divorce agreement, telling her to give it to him if things got too hard. Then, I quietly left the city to hide in a rehab clinic. During those two months of painful physical therapy, Roe never tried to contact me. I assumed he was buried in legal battles. It wasn’t until I finally healed and went home that I found out his name had been cleared weeks ago. He was just vacationing in Europe. I didn’t want to ruin his trip, so I chose to keep my injuries a secret. When he returned, he never brought it up. I thought the lawsuit had traumatized him so much that we were just silently agreeing to leave the past behind. But the truth was, while I was doing agonizing physical therapy just so I could walk back into his arms, Chloe had stolen the credit for saving his life. She stayed by his side day and night. And he—without ever even asking me for the truth—had started hating me to his core. I remembered the day we got married. He held my hands and said, “I will stand by you unconditionally for the rest of my life. I will always believe in you. No matter what happens, nothing will ever tear us apart.” The metallic taste of blood rose in my throat. I lifted my red-rimmed eyes to look at Chloe. “How was your miscarriage my fault? You were the one who slept with a married…” “Ugh!” Chloe suddenly let out a dramatic gag, cutting me off. Roe immediately tensed, holding her by the shoulders. “Are you feeling sick again?” Suddenly, I realized what was happening. “You’re pregnant?” Chloe immediately chimed in. “I’m sorry, Val. I’m carrying Roe’s baby…” Roe nodded without an ounce of shame. “Two months. Twins. I’m having Chloe move into the house so I can take care of her and the babies properly. That nursery you set up will be put to good use.” I had designed that nursery myself. Every piece of furniture, every stuffed animal, I had picked out by hand. I had fantasized countless times about the baby Roe and I would share. And now, I was watching him have children with my own sister. I practically coughed up blood. My voice was a broken rasp. “What about our baby? Roe, that was your own flesh and blood too!” Roe didn’t even blink. “That worthless mistake is already in the biohazard bin.” 3 Those cold words stabbed through my heart like rusted knives. I remembered all the times Roe had whispered in my ear, “Val, I want a baby with you so badly.” Yet he had murdered my child, just so he couldn’t wait to let Chloe carry his. An immense wave of grief and rage swallowed me whole. I grabbed the heavy glass vase from the nightstand and hurled it at them with everything I had. “Get out! Both of you, get the hell out!” As the vase shattered, Roe instinctively pulled Chloe into his arms to shield her from the glass. He turned his head to glare at me, his eyes piercingly cold. “If you can’t handle it, sign the divorce papers. Your parents are already pushing me to marry Chloe as soon as possible. They’ve even picked out names for the twins.” I suddenly remembered what he had said in the operating room: The people who hit you were your parents. So, my parents had known about their affair this entire time. The people I loved most in the world had all betrayed me. It was a pain so absolute, I couldn’t even force out a single tear. I screamed until my voice gave out, chasing them out of the room. I curled into a ball under the thin hospital blanket, shivering violently. The next day, my parents came to the hospital. My father’s tone was harsh and commanding. “What kind of older sister are you? Chloe has always been weaker than you since she was in the womb! Because of you, she lost a baby and almost had to get her uterus removed! Now that she finally has a chance at happiness with Roe, you refuse to divorce him? Are you trying to kill her again?” My mother wiped away fake tears. “They say twins have a telepathic connection, that they’re the closest people in the world. How can your heart be so vicious?” There was no wind in the hospital room, but a freezing chill seeped straight into my bones. I laughed. I laughed until tears finally streamed down my face. “Oh, so you remember we’re twins? I was born exactly three minutes before her! When we were kids, you forced me to let her have everything. Now you expect me to give her my husband too?” “But she is the younger sister! You can’t change that fact!” my mother raised her voice, acting indignant. “If you don’t divorce him, who are Chloe’s babies supposed to call Dad? Do you want her and her children to live in the shadows forever?” “So, you ran me over with your car? Just to clear the way for her? Why didn’t you just kill me?” The moment the words left my mouth, dead silence filled the room. There wasn’t a single trace of guilt on their faces—only annoyance. I clenched my teeth. “I will never sign those papers. I want her to live in the shadows forever. I want her kids to be known as illegitimate bastards!” Smack! My father slapped me hard across the face. “Ungrateful bitch! If I knew you were this toxic, I would have strangled you the minute you were born!” My cheek burned, but the pain in my chest was worse. Five years ago, when my father was hospitalized with liver cancer, I starved myself for a month to lose twenty pounds so I could donate a piece of my liver to save his life. I thought if I sacrificed enough, I could finally earn my parents’ love. But it was never enough. They always wanted more. They wanted to drain my blood and eat my flesh. Seeing I wasn’t backing down, my mother pretended she was going to faint, and my father raised his hand to hit me again. I looked at them one last time. My heart finally died. “Fine. I’ll sign it. I’ll go pack my things today, and from now on, you are no longer my parents.” If I couldn’t have it, I didn’t want any of it. I returned to the house I shared with Roe. As soon as I walked through the front door, I heard sickeningly explicit groans coming from the nursery. “Roe… what if Val catches us in here…” Roe’s voice was thick with lust. “Hold on tighter, baby… Let her find out. Whether she signs the papers or not, you are the only woman I will ever love.” A tidal wave of memories crashed over me. When we first met at the hospital, it was love at first sight for Roe. Known as the untouchable, elite surgeon, he acted like he was addicted to me. To win me over, he cooked and delivered meals to my office every day. The first thing he did after a fourteen-hour surgery was drive to see me. He dropped to one knee at a crowded concert to propose, begging me to stay by his side for the rest of his life. He made me believe in love. He made me think I was his only exception. Suddenly, a weak whimper pulled me back to reality. I followed the sound. It was my six-year-old golden retriever, Buster. He was lying on the floor, a massive pool of blood around his mouth. He was taking shallow, ragged breaths. “Buster…” I dropped to my knees to pick him up and rush him to the vet. But he just looked at me one last time, let out a soft sigh, and stopped breathing in my arms. He had been waiting for me. He waited until he saw me, and then he let go. My mind went completely blank. A soul-shredding agony ripped away the last of my sanity. I kicked the nursery door open. The two of them scrambled apart in panic. Before I could even step forward, Chloe acted as if I had terrified her. She deliberately threw herself backward onto the hardwood floor, letting out a piercing scream and clutching her stomach. “Roe! My stomach hurts so much! The babies… my babies!” Roe’s face went pale. “Don’t panic, I’m taking you to the hospital right now!” He spun around wildly, grabbing clothes off the floor. While his back was turned, Chloe suddenly stopped screaming. She looked at me and flashed a sinister, triumphant smile. “So what if I kicked your stupid dog to death, Val?” she whispered. “All it takes is one word from me, and your baby is dead. You really think you can beat me?” 4 Looking at that face that was nearly identical to my own, the blood rushed to my head. “You psychotic bitch!” I lunged forward, reaching out to wrap my hands around her throat. But before I could even touch her, Roe delivered a brutal kick right into my stomach. “Are you insane?! She’s bleeding and you’re still trying to kill her?! It was just a damn dog!” The dog wasn’t important. The babies were. And I wasn’t. The force of his kick was massive. I was essentially launched backward, crashing hard against the floor. The fresh surgical stitches on my stomach ripped open. Blood poured out, soaking my shirt. Roe looked down at the blood spreading across my stomach. For a fraction of a second, a flash of hesitation crossed his eyes. But then Chloe started screaming again. “Roe… it hurts so much…” “I’ve got you. I won’t let anything happen to you!” He didn’t look at me again. He scooped Chloe into his arms and bolted out the door. By the time he reached the front yard, a crowd of nosy neighbors had already gathered, whispering and holding up their phones to record. Roe didn’t slow down. He shoved through the crowd and carried her away. Through the blurry haze of pain, I saw Chloe peek over his shoulder, giving me one last victorious smirk. I tried to push myself off the floor, but a blinding wave of pain ripped through my abdomen. I collapsed and lost consciousness. When I opened my eyes again, I was tied to a bed in a beachfront vacation cabin. It was the property Roe had bought in my name, a place he used to bring me when he took time off work. But right now, I was hogtied on the mattress. Standing in front of me were three overweight men, covered in disgusting sores and pustules, staring at me like hungry wolves. In the corner of the room, a camera on a tripod was pointed directly at the bed. Realizing what was about to happen, my entire body began to violently shake. I looked toward the doorway, where Roe was standing, his face entirely devoid of emotion. “Roe, what the hell are you doing? No matter what happened, I am still your wife…” This was the man who swore he would support me unconditionally, who promised he would always be on my side. But when he opened his mouth, his voice was dripping with venom. “Valerie, not only did you cause Chloe to almost lose the babies, but you let the neighbors film the whole thing. Now it’s all over the internet. She’s getting cyberbullied. You don’t deserve to be her sister!” “Three years ago, after what you did to me, I never abandoned you! I even thought that if you refused to sign the divorce papers, I would just let it go. We could stay married, even if it was just on paper. But what did you do? Is this how you repay my mercy?” “These three men are patients I pulled from an infectious disease ward… Don’t worry, I won’t let them actually r*pe you. I’m just having them pose with you. We’ll take some photos and post them online. I want you to experience the exact same pain Chloe is feeling. I want you to know what it feels like to have your dignity dragged through the mud.” Seeing him turn to leave, I suddenly remembered something. A year ago, when Chloe was hospitalized for her miscarriage, a man came to visit her. That man was one of Roe’s colleagues from the surgical department! I screamed at the top of my lungs. “Chloe played you, Roe! A year ago, she didn’t get hit by a car! She was caught sleeping with a married man and the man’s wife beat the baby out of her! That man was your coworker! And three years ago, I didn’t abandon you, I—” “Shut up! You literally ran her over, and now you have the nerve to frame her?!” Roe looked at me with pure, unadulterated hatred. “You walked out on me when I needed you most, Valerie. You have no heart!” As I stared at him in sheer disbelief, he delivered the final, fatal blow. “By the way, I had your mother skin that dog of yours and boil it into a stew for Chloe. Dog meat is highly nutritious for pregnant women.” Boom. My brain completely shut down. Buster had been with me for six years. When Roe and Chloe were vacationing in Europe and I was home alone recovering from broken bones and a lost pregnancy, Buster was the only one who stayed by my side. I could see his little head resting on my knees. I could see every moment of the last five years I had spent with Roe. The pain was so excruciating it felt like I was being sliced alive. After Roe walked out the door, the three men lunged toward the bed. “All those stuck-up bitches think we’re disgusting… We haven’t had a taste of a real woman in years…” My scalp prickled with terror. “Roe told you to just take pictures!” “Yeah, well, your sister gave us different orders. She said if we’re gonna put on a show, we might as well make it real. Don’t worry, we’ll make sure you enjoy it.” I shook violently, screaming for help, but Roe was already gone. Just as they ripped my shirt, my hand brushed against a heavy glass lamp on the nightstand. I grabbed it and smashed it directly into the face of the closest man. While the other two recoiled in shock, I scrambled off the bed, sprinted out of the room, and bolted out the front door. By the side of the road, Roe was opening the door to his SUV. Behind me, the sound of heavy footsteps grew closer. I opened my mouth to scream for Roe, but before I could make a sound, I saw Chloe lean out of the passenger side window. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and they kissed deeply. Despair crashed over me like a tidal wave. I thought of my murdered child. My dead dog. My parents who sold me out. And the man who had just died in my heart. I knew I couldn’t outrun those men. And honestly, I didn’t want to run anymore. Without a second of hesitation, I turned sharply and sprinted straight toward the jagged cliff edge. The roaring ocean crashed against the rocks below. I spread my arms and threw myself into the void. In the moment of freefall, I thought I heard Roe’s voice, screaming with a completely raw, desperate agony. “Valerie! No!”

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1 The men at the Institute took his money and cut out a piece of my brain. My frontal lobe. Now, I’m a puppet, devoid of emotion, existing only to obey. It all started when my sister’s assistant, Ryan, showed up with a forged paternity test, claiming I was an imposter. He wept, telling my family I’d used my position as the family heir to lord over him, that I’d broken his leg in a fit of rage. To make it up to him, they sent me to the Institute. When I got out, I just nodded and agreed to whatever they said. Ryan, disgusted, told me to jump in the pool and wash myself clean. I did. My parents pulled me from the bottom of the pool, their faces masks of horror. My sister, Sophia, accused me of putting on a show. She demanded I break my own leg as an apology. I turned and walked straight into oncoming traffic. She yanked me back, her hand trembling uncontrollably. Later, Ryan framed me again, claiming I’d drugged him and thrown him to a woman with an STD. Sophia slapped me, spitting that if he got sick, I was dead. I picked up a knife and aimed it at my heart. My parents froze in the doorway. Sophia grabbed my hand, her grip like a vice. She called me an idiot, asking why I did everything anyone told me to. I’m not an idiot. … The tip of the blade broke the skin, a sharp, wet sound piercing the silence. It was only millimeters from my heart, but I felt nothing. My hand moved to push it deeper. Sophia, her hands slick with my blood, wrenched the knife away. “Nolan! Are you insane?!” But my eyes didn’t even blink. Her shock was absolute. I wasn’t insane. They had performed a lobotomy on me. I had no emotions. I didn’t know what pain was. My mother’s eyes welled with tears. “Nolan, what are you doing?” My father, heartbroken, slapped me across the face, trying to knock some sense into me. “You animal! Your sister was kind enough to bring you home! Who are you trying to guilt-trip with this pathetic act?!” Only then did I stop. Without an order from my family, I didn’t dare continue. I just curled up on the floor. My docile state only seemed to infuriate Sophia more. “Nolan! Stop playing the fool who can’t understand a word! The Ashtons took you back, what more could you possibly want?!” I answered like a machine. “I want for nothing. My sister said I nearly got Ryan infected. I was carrying out my sister’s punishment.” Seven years of “re-education” had taught me that resistance was pointless. Obedience was survival. The slightest frown would earn me unspeakable torture at the Institute. A moment later, the world went black as I passed out from blood loss. At the hospital, the doctor who was supposed to be treating me was called away by Ryan, who was suddenly complaining that his old leg injury was acting up. A nurse just poured alcohol directly onto my open wound. The sting woke me, and the first thing I heard was Ryan’s voice, dripping with false sincerity. “Nolan, man, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have come back and… taken your place. Don’t do this self-pity routine, please. It just makes the family hate me more.” “I haven’t seen you in seven years,” he continued, “but I’ve felt guilty every single day.” A lie. I remembered him clearly. He was the one who told the Institute to perform the surgery. Strange. Why wouldn’t he admit he’d visited me? Blood was still seeping from the gash in my chest. Just as my sister was about to call for a doctor for me, Ryan turned away, his face pale. My mother gasped. “Ryan’s faint at the sight of blood! Someone treat Nolan’s wound, quickly!” Before a doctor could even approach, I had already torn off my shirt, balled it up, and shoved it hard against the wound. At the Institute, when they beat me until I was a bruised mess, I often used my clothes as bandages. The infections nearly killed me a few times. Ryan sucked in a sharp breath. “Nolan, I’m sorry. It’s my fault the doctor left.” Sophia pushed down the flicker of pity she felt for me, her brow furrowed in a deep scowl. “Do you really need the victim to apologize to you?” she snapped. “Seven years of re-education, and the Institute didn’t teach you the price of your mistakes?” Of course they did. I dropped to my knees in front of Ryan, dragging my injured leg as I slammed my forehead against the floor. “Ryan, it’s all my fault! If you’re still not satisfied, I promise the next time I stab myself, I’ll finish the job!” Ryan sighed dramatically. “You lied to this family for seven years. Are you going to keep treating us like fools?” To make him believe me, I started stabbing myself again, each cut deep enough to show bone. For seven years, this was the only way I could earn a bowl of spoiled leftovers at the Institute. Covered in fresh blood, I offered a placating smile. “Do you believe me now, Ryan?” Sophia’s voice was sharp as glass. “You’re disgusting!” “The party is about to start. Stop embarrassing the Ashton family!” As they left, Ryan leaned in close, his eyes glinting. “Nolan,” he whispered, “if you want us to believe you, get on your knees and wash my feet. In front of everyone at the party tonight. Then we’ll know you’re not acting.” I nodded forcefully. After a quick, messy bandaging job, I made my way to the Ashton’s grand ballroom. My mother flinched at the sight of me, wrapped head to toe in gauze. “Nolan, you should be in the hospital! What are you doing here?” Ignoring the confused stares of the guests, I walked directly to Ryan and knelt at his feet. Ignoring the fire in my own wounds, I began to remove his leather shoes to wash his feet. Ryan “accidentally” ground his heel into an open cut on my foot. When my hand trembled, spilling the basin of water, his face twisted from a smirk to a mask of feigned terror. “Nolan! You… you burned me with hot water!” The scalding water had drenched my clothes and skin, but I ignored the searing pain and kept my head bowed to the floor. “I’m sorry, brother.” The guests around us turned pale at the sight of my bloody, mangled wounds. Sophia, however, rushed to his side, cradling the foot that had been splashed. “Ryan, are you okay?” He winced. “Sophia, he’s just trying to drive me away! I… I should just leave the Ashton family for good…” He stood to leave, ignoring Sophia’s protests as she hurried after him. But a friend of the family, a neuroscientist, grabbed her arm, his expression grave. “Sophia, wait. Look at Nolan. Something’s not right with him…” She shot an irritated glance back at me. The skin scalded by the water was already peeling away as I scrubbed at the floor. Blood soaked through the bandages on my torso, but I seemed completely unaware, focused only on cleaning the spill. They didn’t know that at the Institute, a single drop of blood left on the floor meant a thousand times more punishment. “It’s like he doesn’t feel pain anymore,” the doctor said, his voice low. “He’s just a machine executing commands. A normal person wouldn’t mutilate themselves just to follow an order. Sophia, there’s something seriously wrong with his brain!” “That’s impossible,” she murmured, but she hesitated. My father, embarrassed by the scene, scowled. “I doubt it. Making a scene at an event like this… If he’s so committed to the act, why doesn’t he just kill himself?” Without a second thought, I agreed. I grabbed a steak knife from a nearby table and plunged it toward my heart. The doctor moved like lightning, catching my wrist. “Stop!” I obediently froze. Crash. Sophia’s wine glass shattered on the marble floor. My father stood paralyzed. My mother’s eyes filled with tears again. “That boy… could something have really happened to him at the Institute? Even if he’s not our blood, we raised him for so many years…” Strange. I thought they hated me. Why did they seem so afraid of losing me? My mother stared at my wounds, at a loss. My father’s gaze was a mixture of irritation and scrutiny. After a moment, seeing I wasn’t dead, Sophia’s anger returned. She ordered the butler, “Get him out of here. I don’t want Ryan to see him and get upset!” They tied me up in the garden. No one dared to bring me food. For three days, I drank from the sprinkler hose to survive. I slept curled in a pile of dead leaves. Ryan would cruise by in the Maybach, whistling at me like a dog. I’d smile back instinctively, and he’d sneer with open contempt. “Pathetic.” Was I? I didn’t think so. Compared to the seven years of endless darkness and oppression, sleeping here was paradise. One day, Ryan had the driver stop the car. He held out his wrist to me. “Look at you, Nolan. A pathetic stray. What’s the difference between you and a dog?” I gave my customary, agreeable smile. He patted my head. “Good dog. Now, be a good boy and bite me.” I bared my teeth and bit down. The next second, a sharp slap sent my head ringing. Sophia had arrived. “Have you completely lost your mind? When did you learn to bite people like an animal?” I didn’t argue. I just smiled, like a dog. Ryan scrambled behind his sister, feigning terror. “Sophia, look at him! He’s smiling at me! It’s terrifying!” Sophia’s face was a mask of ice. She ordered the bodyguards to take me to a psychiatric hospital. “I think you’ve really lost your mind. Go in there and get it treated!” I memorized her words. That night, I swallowed an entire bottle of powerful sedatives. By the time the night nurse noticed something was wrong, my bed was soaked in the black blood I had vomited. The first thing I saw when I regained consciousness was my mother, sobbing uncontrollably as she gently stroked my hair. “How did my Nolan become like this? He wasn’t… he wasn’t like this before…” She was right. The boy I used to be—bright, dazzling, proud—was dead. He died the day he was thrown into the Institute. A flicker of pity crossed my father’s face, but his words were still sharp. “He’s not our biological son, after all. Bad genes. He’s probably resentful now that he knows the truth, trying to use us, to harm us…” I wanted to say, No, I would never hurt you. But the oxygen tube in my throat silenced me. Ryan’s choked voice reached my ears. “Mom, Dad… if Nolan wakes up and really holds a grudge against me… I don’t think it will be just my leg he breaks this time.” Sophia let out a soft sigh, then made a promise to soothe him. “I’ll pay the hospital ten times their usual fee to… delay Nolan’s medication.” “It would be better… if he just died here.” I suddenly understood what my family wanted. The moment I regained a sliver of strength, I used all of it to rip the tube from my throat. My heart rate and blood pressure monitors screamed. The blaring alarm drained the color from Sophia’s face. She yelled instinctively. “Doctor! Help my brother! Please!” Ryan’s smile vanished, his eyes flashing with jealousy. The doctor who saved me clutched his chest, catching his breath. “A few more seconds and he would have been gone! What kind of family are you, leaving him unattended like this?!” My parents and Sophia stared, speechless, before stammering apologies. Lying on the edge of death, I was utterly confused. Didn’t they want me to die? Why did they save me when I was so close? Ryan’s voice cracked with rage. “Nolan, are you done with your act? It looks like seven years did nothing to fix you!” “I’m going to have Mom and Dad send you back to the Institute!” I listened quietly, my face a blank slate. But unexpectedly, Sophia hesitated, a frown creasing her brow. “Send him back… What if something happens?” My parents fell silent, thinking. After all, when they’d brought me home, I was twenty pounds lighter, covered in bruises, a ghost of my former self. Ryan turned to me. “Nolan, answer me. Are you willing to go back to the Institute to continue your re-education?” I nodded obediently. “Yes. Thank you, Ryan.” A short while later, as Ryan was handling my discharge papers, he gave me a cruel smile. “You’re going back there to die, Nolan.” I had no complaints. I just followed him. He ordered me to get into the driver’s seat of the car. “Get in, start the car, and step on the gas. Aim for me.” I nodded, confused, and was just about to press the accelerator when the Ashton’s Maybach screeched to a halt, cutting me off. A bodyguard ripped my door open and dragged me out. “Nolan! Have you had enough?!” My sister was trembling with rage. “You tried to run Ryan down!” My mother stared at me, her eyes filled with a profound disappointment, before turning to comfort Ryan through her tears. “Ryan, you’ve suffered so much. From this moment on, the Ashton family will show him no more mercy!” I knew I had made them angry again. And mistakes have consequences. I slammed my head against the car. I heard the crack of my frontal bone as it fractured. Ryan’s eyes widened in fake shock. “The more you play the victim, Nolan, the more you must hate me in your heart!” I said nothing, despite the splitting pain in my head. They didn’t like it when I talked back. Seven years ago, it was for refuting Ryan’s lies that they threw me into the Institute, where they performed the surgery that made me so obedient. I was all better now. I would do anything they said. I hoped that would make them happy. “No-lan Ash-ton!” It was the second time my sister had said my name with such chilling coldness. “Hasn’t this family been good to you? You enjoyed twenty years of luxury that belonged to Ryan! Bringing you home was the biggest mistake of my life! You almost got him killed!” My father shoved my fractured head against the pavement, grinding it into the asphalt. “You ungrateful beast! We should have let you die in the hospital!” I coughed up blood and struggled to my feet. I knew they hadn’t forgiven me. I prepared to slam my head against the car again to atone. If I hit it harder this time, hard enough to shatter my skull, surely they would calm down? My mother screamed, a wild, desperate sound. “Enough! Stop torturing yourself…” My father ordered the bodyguards, “Throw him in the Institute. And you, Nolan, you’d better die quickly. Don’t keep Ryan from living his life!” My family watched as the bodyguards tossed me into the trunk like a bag of trash. They were only concerned with taking Ryan back to the hospital for a full check-up. I was back in the familiar place. A bodyguard flicked a lit cigarette into a nearby trash can. “Stay put!” I curled up obediently in a corner, unmoving even as I watched the cigarette ignite the trash, the flames catching on the curtains. As the fire roared toward me, a wall of infernal heat, I calmly closed my eyes and waited to die. I just wanted to ask: I’ve been so good. Once I’m really dead, can I come home? At the hospital, the family breathed a collective sigh of relief as they reviewed Ryan’s perfectly normal test results. My father’s voice was ice when he heard the bodyguard’s report. “Nolan loves his little life-and-death dramas, doesn’t he? Fine. Let him stay there and rot. If anyone in this family so much as mentions his name again, they can get out!” But the neuroscientist frowned. He pulled a file from his desk drawer—the surgical report for my frontal lobotomy. “Ms. Ashton, Nolan isn’t acting. His behavior is the result of a severe brain injury.” Sophia was dismissive. “We all know he’s got something wrong in his head!” “This is different!” The doctor slammed the report on the table. The words “Successful Excision” made a sudden, sickening premonition rise in my mother’s chest. She fought to keep her voice steady. “A frontal lobotomy… what does that mean?” The doctor’s expression was grim. “It means the part of Nolan’s brain that controls impulse, emotion, and resistance has been surgically removed! He has no feelings, no ability to refuse an order. He will do anything to please, to obey a command, even if that command will lead to his own death!” “The Institute he was in for seven years is a notorious black site for abuse! They arranged the surgery through a private clinic! And this,” he said, pointing to the bottom of the page, “is the signature of the family representative who authorized it. Ryan.” Seeing Ryan’s name on the form, their world exploded. At the same time, the doctor produced another document: the real paternity test. “I found the original in the archives. There’s something you’ve been wrong about for seven years.”

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1 Memorial Day weekend. Brody, the frat bro who stole my wife years ago, posted a photo of an oceanfront villa in Cabo. The caption read: “Holiday getaway. Testing out the older woman flavor.” I took a screenshot and sent it to his current wife, who happened to be my ex-wife, Sissi. I added a sarcastic text. “Getting cheated on over the holidays. Feels familiar, doesn’t it?” Minutes later, Sissi didn’t curse me out. Instead, she sent a live location in Cabo and a video. The video showed a luxury sedan with its windshield smashed to pieces. She sent one follow-up message. “Why don’t you check the plates and see who this belongs to.” My blood turned to ice. I took the red-eye flight. When I walked into the local precinct in Cabo, the first thing I saw was my fiancée, Jenny. The woman who was supposed to be working overtime at her corporate firm was currently wielding a plastic waiting room chair, screaming like a lunatic as she tried to swing it at Sissi. Hearing my footsteps, Jenny froze. This was the woman who had pulled me out of severe clinical depression. The woman who once put Sissi in the hospital just so I wouldn’t suffer. Yet right now, her first instinct was to pull a man behind her back, shielding him. I walked up to her, step by step. Looking at a face I knew down to the bone, I felt nothing but a terrifying strangeness. “You told me yesterday morning there was an emergency project,” I said. “You said you had to work through the weekend.” “Is this your new office, Jess?” “Of all the people you could protect, you chose Brody?” “You know exactly what he did to me five years ago. You swore you would make him pay!” Jenny slowly lowered the chair. She brushed the dust off her palms, refusing to meet my eyes. Instead, she stared at the blank precinct wall. “Paul, we’re all adults here. Things happen naturally,” she said. “There’s no need to make this so ugly.” I stood there, stung by her absolute indifference. “Ugly?” I echoed. “You booked a hotel room behind my back with the man who ruined the first half of my life, and you’re annoyed that I’m making things ugly?” Jenny tugged at her collar, dripping with impatience. “All you do is work and stare off into space. You’re completely lifeless,” she snapped. “You don’t have Brody’s spark. Any woman would feel suffocated around you.” Those words smashed into my face. Every illusion I ever held about her shattered into dust. Brody peeked out from behind her shoulder. “Artie, man, don’t blame Jess.” “It’s my fault. I got drunk and cried to her about how Sissi gives me the cold shoulder. You can hit me or yell at me, but please don’t fight with her over this.” Memories from five years ago crashed into my skull. The day I pushed open the master bedroom door, Brody had hidden behind Sissi the exact same way. Sissi had shoved me hard to protect him. I fell, cracking my head open on the nightstand, leaving a permanent scar. That was the day I sank into the swamp of severe depression. A suffocating weight crushed my chest. I gasped for air. Sissi leaned against the wall, wiping a trickle of blood from her forehead. She let out a sharp, mocking laugh. “Jenny, you kept preaching about how much you loved Paul. In the end, you still climbed into my husband’s bed.” Jenny glared at Sissi, her face twisted with pure disdain. “Oh, save the victim act, Sissi,” Jenny spat. “You slept with Paul for years and tortured him until he was a ghost of a man. I just wanted a taste of your husband. I wanted you to know what it feels like to wear the horns. This is called karma.” I stared at Jenny, completely numb. The woman who pulled me back from the edge of the roof, who stayed up countless nights holding me through panic attacks, was utterly unrecognizable. Her closeness, her fierce protection, it was all tainted with a sick, twisted sense of possession and revenge. With a terrifying calm, I pulled the engagement ring off my finger and set it quietly on the officer’s metal desk. “The wedding is off, Jenny.” I turned and walked out the glass doors. Behind me, Brody’s voice echoed. “Jess, he left the ring! Go after him!” Jenny’s voice followed, dripping with arrogance. “Chase him? Why? Once he cools off, he’ll come crawling back.” “Besides, I need to comfort you right now.” I hailed a cab straight to the airport and bought the next ticket back to Seattle. Sitting in the departure lounge, my phone lit up. It was a photo from Brody. Jenny was fast asleep on crisp, white hotel sheets, looking completely at peace. A text followed. “Artie, your girl only plays the saint when you’re around. Deep down, she loves the thrill. I’ll give her back when I’m done with her.” My fingers flew across the keyboard. “Trash belongs in the dumpster. Only you would be thrilled to dig through my garbage.” I hit send and immediately blocked his number. Back at our shared downtown condo, I pulled out a box of heavy-duty trash bags. I ripped open the closet doors, yanked all of Jenny’s designer clothes off the hangers, and stuffed them in. I didn’t hesitate for a single second. I dragged every bag containing a trace of her existence out into the hallway. Just as I threw the last bag out, the elevator chimed. The doors slid open. My mother and my sister, Zoe, stepped out. Seeing the mountain of luggage, my mother’s face darkened instantly. “Paul, what kind of tantrum is this?” she scolded. “Jess is so good to you. You’re almost thirty, stop acting like a dramatic teenager! Are you trying to tear this family apart?” Zoe chimed in right on cue. “Seriously, Paul. Jess runs a massive company. Don’t be ungrateful. I graduate next month, and I’m counting on her to get me a management job!” Looking at the people who shared my blood, I felt a wave of profound sorrow. Years ago, when Sissi betrayed me, my depression was so severe I couldn’t sleep for days. My mother just watched me with cold eyes, calling me an ugly burden. She even tried to force me to give up my high-paying job so Zoe could have my salary for her college allowance. I survived those pitch-black days by waiting tables during the day and spending my meager tips on therapy at night. I crawled out of hell completely alone. From that moment on, I considered myself an orphan. I looked at my mother with eyes as cold as dead ash. “Jenny cheated on me,” I said flatly. “With Brody.” I thought hearing that name would trigger at least a fraction of shock. Instead, my mother blinked, then gave a dismissive wave of her hand. “People stray. It’s just a fling,” she said. “If you can’t keep your woman satisfied, who else is there to blame?” “Besides, Brody is highly connected now. He knows big investors. If he introduces your sister to the right people, her whole career is set.” “Just swallow your pride. Why do you have to make a scene and embarrass everyone?” The last fragile thread tying me to my family snapped entirely. I was about to shut the door when the elevator dinged again. Jenny practically tumbled out, gasping for air. She couldn’t get a flight, so she must have bought an overpriced train ticket and traveled all night. Seeing her belongings piled up like garbage, her face turned thunderous. I leaned against the doorframe, offering a merciless smirk. “Why the rush? Couldn’t bear to leave your boy toy in Cabo? Or did Sissi beat you so badly you had to run?” Seeing Jenny arrive, my mother and sister looked awkward. They muttered a quick excuse and scurried back into the elevator, fleeing the scene. The hallway was dead silent. Just the two of us. I stepped back inside, grabbed the divorce papers I had printed weeks ago for a prenup update, and crossed out a few lines. We had just signed our marriage certificate last month. The grand wedding was scheduled for next month. Now, there was no need. I slapped the papers against her chest. “Sign it.” Jenny didn’t even look at the document. She let it flutter to the floor. She refused to acknowledge the hotel room in Cabo, choosing instead to flip the script. “Can you stop being so irrational, Paul?” she demanded. “Throwing my stuff out in front of your mother and sister? Do you know how humiliating that is for me?” “Sissi kicked Brody out. He has nowhere to sleep. What’s wrong with me helping out a friend?” Listening to her righteous defense, I felt like I was losing my mind. Brody was the guy who stabbed me in the back our entire lives. He stole my homework in high school to win awards. He cut the brakes on my bike, breaking my leg. Because I had better grades, he secretly hacked the school portal to alter my college applications, costing me my university spot. I only found out about his sabotage when he showed up to sleep with Sissi. He ruined my life, and then he stole my wife. Jenny used to hold me in her arms, looking me in the eyes, swearing her loyalty. “I’m here now, Artie. Nobody will ever hurt you again. Whatever Brody took from you, I’ll make him pay back in blood.” Those promises were now nothing but a sick joke. Suppressing the fire in my chest, I pointed a finger squarely at her face. “Help him? You helped him into your bed!” “Brody is a pathetic little…” I never finished the sentence. A sharp, stinging slap echoed in the hallway. My head snapped to the side. My ears rang a high-pitched pitch. Jenny pulled her hand back, glaring at me with absolute fury. “Do not insult him like that!” The burning pain on my cheek was nothing compared to the bottomless, freezing abyss opening in my heart. Jenny stared at her own trembling hand. A flash of panic crossed her face. She took a step forward, instinctively reaching out to steady me. “Artie, I didn’t mean to. Just stop provoking me…” I slapped her hand away. With every ounce of strength I had, I swung my arm back and delivered a brutal, stinging backhand across her face. “You make me physically sick, Jenny!” I roared. “How good is Brody in bed that you women line up to pick up each other’s trash?” I lunged forward, completely unhinged. The sheer weight of years of repressed trauma erupted. Jenny didn’t fight back, taking the impact against her shoulders. The violent movement was too much. Black spots danced across my vision. My knees buckled, and I collapsed onto the hardwood floor, slipping into total darkness. When I opened my eyes again, the sharp scent of clinical bleach filled my lungs. I was lying in a hospital bed, an IV dripping fluids into my vein. Jenny stood at the foot of the bed. Her expression was darker than a thundercloud. Seeing me wake up, she offered zero comfort. Her voice was colder than liquid nitrogen. “You cheated on me.” My eyes went wide. “What kind of insane garbage are you talking about? When did I ever cheat on you?” Jenny let out a humorless scoff and tossed her phone onto my blanket. “Still denying it?” “Brody told me everything! You went to Seattle on a business trip last month. Sissi was in Seattle at the exact same time! Are you seriously going to tell me nothing happened?” My whole body shook with rage. “That was a corporate summit! Hundreds of tech companies were in that city! I didn’t even see her face!” Jenny wasn’t listening. Her mind was already made up. “How long were you going to play me?” she sneered. “You kept crying about how Brody framed you, but he showed me the medical records. He proved you were having psychotic episodes, hallucinating and attacking people like a rabid dog!” “I must have been blind to fall for your pathetic victim act for three years.” My breathing turned ragged. My chest ached with a suffocating pressure. Once trust collapses, every explanation sounds like a cover-up. She would rather believe the man who lied through his teeth than the husband who had slept beside her for three years. Looking down at me like I was a stranger, Jenny delivered her ultimatum. “I’m giving you one week to think about this.” “Clean up your mess. In six months, I’ll consider coming back to this marriage. Otherwise, I’ll see you in court.” She spun around, slammed the hospital door shut, and walked away. The room fell back into a dead, hollow silence. Two days later, I forced myself out of bed and dragged my aching body into the office. The second I stepped into the bullpen, I noticed my desk was entirely cleared out. My framed photos, my mugs, my notes, everything was shoved carelessly into a cardboard box on the floor. My coworkers shot me looks filled with pity and twisted amusement. I didn’t yell. I didn’t make a scene. I walked calmly toward HR to demand my termination paperwork. As I passed the executive suites, my department director walked out, laughing and fawning over a man in a tailored suit. It was Brody. The director caught sight of me and immediately put on a nasty sneer. “Paul, you actually have the nerve to show your face?” he mocked. “I reported your unexcused absences. Corporate decided to terminate you effectively immediately. Grab your trash and get out. You’re blocking our new Regional Manager.” Brody strolled up to me, adjusting his cuffs. “Sorry about this, Artie. Took your spot,” he said smoothly. “But what can I say? Jess is the majority shareholder of this firm.” “I casually mentioned I was bored and needed a gig, and she handed me your department.” I snapped my head up, staring at her empty office in pure shock. Jenny was the majority shareholder? For three years, I bled for this company. I worked overnight pulling together pitch decks. Every time a promotion came up, the director gave me some corporate excuse and handed the title to someone else. I used to come home exhausted, crying to Jenny about the unfairness of the corporate ladder. She would rub my back so gently, telling me to be patient, promising that hard work always pays off. She had the power all along. She held the leash. My heart turned into a block of ice. My eyes drifted down. I suddenly noticed a braided red string wrapped around Brody’s wrist. It was a handmade bracelet. I had woven it myself for our three-year anniversary, placing it on Jenny’s wrist. She swore on her life she would never take it off. Pure, unadulterated fury snapped the last wire in my brain. I lunged forward, grabbing the bracelet and ripping it downward. “Take that off! You don’t have the right to touch it!” Brody immediately let out an exaggerated, theatrical yelp. “Ah! Jesus, Artie! What is wrong with you!” He threw his weight backward, pretending to fall. Out of nowhere, a figure rushed past me. Jenny threw her arms around Brody to catch him, simultaneously shoving me hard in the chest. “Paul! Are you completely insane!” The brutal force of her push threw me off balance. I stumbled backward, my heel catching on the carpet. I went down hard. The sharp corner of a mahogany desk caught me right in the lower back. Blinding, agonizing pain shredded through my nervous system. I slid to the floor, feeling a warm, thick liquid dripping down the back of my head. Gasps erupted across the office. Jenny froze. She stared at the pooling blood on the carpet, all the color draining from her face. I lay in my cheap rental apartment for a full month. During that time, Brody practically lived on Instagram, flaunting his new luxury lifestyle. In the comment sections, Jenny and Sissi were tearing each other apart, fighting over him like wild dogs. Both of them ended up in the ER after a physical brawl at a country club. Watching their circus act, I felt nothing but a dark, cynical amusement. A month later, as the sun set, Jenny finally unlocked the door to our old condo. The place was completely hollow. Stripped of all life. She walked into the living room, annoyed, until her eyes landed on the glass coffee table. Sitting right in the center was the divorce agreement. My signature was already inked at the bottom.

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My little brother has a gift. He can hear people’s thoughts. When our parents died, our aunt and uncle both stepped up to take us in. Aunt Manon showed up looking ragged and exhausted, wearing faded clothes. Uncle James, on the other hand, was dripping in designer labels from head to toe. But Noah chose Manon. He clung to her because the voices in his head told him she was actually secretly loaded, hiding a massive fortune. As for James? His thoughts revealed his clothes were all rentals. He was just fronting, trying to look wealthy so we wouldn’t feel insecure. When James gently took my hand, Noah shot me a smug, pitying look. He whispered that if I ever wanted to wear nice clothes, I could fish his hand-me-downs out of the trash. He honestly thought he was the main character. He thought his mind-reading made him invincible, the chosen one. What he didn’t know was that I had a secret of my own. I could see the comments. A floating, glowing stream of text that told me exactly what the future held. The comments said Manon was a sinking ship. She was cursed with a toxic fate, destined to drag down anyone foolish enough to tie themselves to her. The comments also said that while James cared too much about his pride, he had a heart of gold. His luck was about to turn, and his family would slowly build a beautiful, comfortable life. Someone in the floating text mentioned that Noah relied too heavily on the voices in his head. And the biggest twist of all? His ability came with an expiration date. The moment he turned eighteen, the voices would go permanently silent. Looking at his arrogant smirk, I could already see the absolute tragedy waiting for him at the finish line. 1 The moment Manon and James stepped into the sterile hospital hallway, my brother Noah practically shoved me toward James. His expensive cologne was overpowering. Noah put on his best puppy-dog eyes and let his lip quiver. “Ollie, you go with Uncle James,” Noah said softly. “I’m younger. I can handle roughing it. You’ve always had it easier, so you should be the one to go live the good life with him.” I watched James’s face twitch with an unnatural, guilty expression. Manon, meanwhile, looked down at Noah with pure adoration and patted his shoulder. “Our little Noah is growing up,” she cooed. “Already learning how to sacrifice for his family.” James looked at Noah, his large hands awkwardly fidgeting with the hem of his rented tailored jacket. “Noah, are you absolutely sure you don’t want to come with me? Don’t you remember? I used to carry you on my shoulders when you were a baby.” Noah forced a pained, conflicted look onto his face. “Uncle James, I know you really care about me. But Ollie was always mom and dad’s favorite. He’s spoiled. He can’t survive eating scraps and sleeping on a hard mattress. As his little brother, I’m used to giving him the best of everything. Please don’t make this harder than it is. Let Ollie go with you.” With that, he gently nudged me closer to James, playing the part of the heartbroken martyr perfectly. If I hadn’t known the truth, I might have actually bought his performance. But right on cue, the glowing text began scrolling across my vision. [Bro can literally hear thoughts. He knows the uncle’s Rolex is a fake and the suit is rented! James just didn’t want the kids to feel poor.] [Manon is the real hidden millionaire here. She’s loaded.] So that was it. Noah could hear the truth. It made perfect sense now. A kid who threw a tantrum if his pillow wasn’t fluffed properly was never going to willingly choose a life of poverty with our supposedly broke aunt. Besides, I hadn’t even recognized the brand of James’s suit. Noah spotted it instantly. I knew exactly why both of them wanted Noah instead of me. Our parents had never hidden their blatant favoritism. Even though I brought home straight A’s and kept my head down, they only ever paraded Noah in front of the relatives. They painted me as the difficult child, the liar, the jealous older brother who needed constant discipline. I couldn’t exactly go door-to-door defending myself to the extended family. Over time, everyone just assumed I was a lost cause. Even now, standing over the tragic reality of our parents’ sudden passing, Manon and James had rushed here to claim Noah. I was just the consolation prize. James finally took my hand. “You’re too good for your own sake, Noah,” James sighed, his voice thick with emotion. “Are you really sure? I promise I’d give you everything I have.” He meant it. James had two daughters at home. He had always wanted a quiet, obedient son, and Noah’s carefully crafted persona fit the bill perfectly. Manon stepped in smoothly. “James, stop pressuring the poor boy. He clearly made his choice. Don’t make him uncomfortable. Besides, you need to think about Oliver’s feelings.” Only then did the two adults seem to remember I had been standing there the whole time, fading into the background like peeling wallpaper. James looked at me, a deep flush creeping up his neck. “Ollie, I didn’t mean to make you feel unwanted. It’s just that you’re older. You understand how these things work, right?” I offered a careless, easy smile. Before I could say it was fine, Noah cut in. “Don’t worry, Uncle James. Ollie has a really good memory. Just make sure you treat him well. I’ll come visit you guys when I have some free time.” A good memory. That was his coded way of calling me vindictive. Even on his way to securing a golden ticket, he couldn’t resist throwing mud at my name. James hesitated for a split second, clearly picking up on the toxic undertone. But the ink was already dry on the decision. As Noah followed Manon down the hall, he brushed his shoulder against mine. He paused, leaning in close so only I could hear. “You’re clueless, Ollie,” he whispered, a nasty grin stretching across his face. “James is totally faking it. Get ready to starve in the slums. Guys like you don’t have what it takes to live at the top.” I watched him strut away like a general who had just conquered a city. A small, genuine smile touched my lips. Because the comments were flooding my vision again. [This kid is so stupid. Manon has cash, yeah, but her fate is cursed! She’s a walking black hole. She’ll drag him down with her!] [Uncle James cares too much about his image, but he’s a genuinely good guy. His karma is insane, he’s going to strike it rich soon.] [The brother relies way too much on his mind-reading. It’s making him lazy.] [Wait till he finds out the gift vanishes on his eighteenth birthday. Poof, gone.] [Yikes. I can already smell the absolute disaster waiting for him.] I shoved my hands into my pockets. I guess we’d see if Noah could actually handle all that heavy, glittering wealth. 2 James guided me out to the parking lot and unlocked a sleek, midnight-black luxury sedan. The soft click of the doors echoing in the quiet lot. He still felt guilty for making it so obvious he wanted Noah. He glanced at me in the passenger seat, clearing his throat awkwardly. “Ollie. Please don’t hold this against me. I have my reasons, things are a bit complicated right now. But since you’re coming with me, I swear on my life I won’t let you suffer.” I didn’t know what his complicated reasons were yet. But the glowing text had confirmed his good heart. He wouldn’t mistreat me. Still, I wasn’t naive enough to blindly trust magical floating words. I was seventeen. I needed a legal guardian and a roof over my head. My plan was simple: keep my head down, study hard, and build my own escape hatch. Once I was on my own feet, I would never rely on anyone’s charity again. I decided to test the comments. I looked out the window and kept my voice perfectly flat. “Uncle James, you can return the car now.” His hands locked onto the leather steering wheel. His knuckles turned bone-white. It made sense. Truly wealthy people rarely drove themselves to pick up grieving relatives in a hospital lot. Plus, James’s worn-out posture didn’t match the crisp tailoring of his suit. He let out a long, heavy exhale. He didn’t get defensive or angry. Instead, a tired, self-deprecating chuckle escaped his chest. “You saw right through me, huh? You’re a sharp kid, Ollie. I just didn’t want you two to feel ashamed of me. Especially since your Aunt Manon…” He stopped himself, chewing on his lower lip. I knew how that sentence ended. He knew Manon was loaded, but since Noah picked the supposedly poor aunt, James didn’t want me feeling like I got the short end of the stick. He held his tongue to protect my pride. The comments were right. He was too good for this world. But if he was so selfless, why had he fought so hard to take Noah instead of me? Our parents had barely spoken to James or Manon over the years. They both lived out of state. I had no clue what their bank accounts looked like. Noah only knew because of the voices in his head. I pushed the questions away. I had spent my whole life accepting whatever hand I was dealt. If my parents gave Noah the world and gave me the scraps, I ate the scraps. I never begged. I never fought for their scraps of affection. Blood didn’t mean loyalty. Relatives could still lie. You could only ever count on yourself. James listened to me. He drove the luxury car back to the rental agency, swapped his designer suit for comfortable, faded jeans and a plain gray sweater, and walked out looking like a completely normal, tired dad. I sat in the passenger seat of his beat-up, rattling sedan. The heater smelled faintly of old coffee. He climbed in, flashing me a warm, goofy smile. “What are you craving, Ollie? Sarah and the girls probably ate already. How about we hit up that fancy burger joint downtown? The one with the crazy milkshakes?” A sudden, sharp tightness gripped my chest. Growing up, money was supposedly tight. Mom and Dad preached the gospel of saving every penny. We were never allowed to eat out. But if Noah whined about wanting a gourmet sundae, they would drop everything and drive him to the nicest diner in town. They never waited for me to get home from school. I only found out because Noah would intentionally bring his leftovers home. He would sit at the kitchen island, scraping the melting, sugary mess into his mouth with painful slowness, making sure I watched him swallow every bite. He would wait hours until it turned to liquid, just to see the hunger and jealousy in my eyes. In my mind, things like diners and milkshakes belonged to a world I wasn’t allowed to enter. James must have asked around to figure out what kids my age liked, just to make me smile. I shook my head and pointed to a dimly lit diner across the street. “Let’s just get some hot soup. I really like soup.” The things I couldn’t have back then, I didn’t want anymore. One day, I would buy everything I ever wanted with my own money. James blinked, surprised, but he nodded. A few minutes later, we were sitting across from each other in a cracked vinyl booth, waiting for our food. “You know, Ollie,” James said softly, swirling his water glass. “You really aren’t anything like what your parents said you were.” His honesty caught me off guard. It also made me realize why he had gone broke renting luxury gear just to win Noah over. If you have to take in a kid that isn’t yours, feed them, and share your home for years, of course you’d want the “easy” kid. He wasn’t malicious. He was just tired. I offered a small, quiet smile. “Time tells the truth about people.” James’s face lit up, the tension finally melting from his shoulders. “Listen to you, sounding like a philosopher. I bet you’re top of your class.” He was right. I was always at the top. Noah was always at the bottom. Once, when we were little, Noah failed a massive math test. He came home, threw himself into our mother’s arms, and sobbed until she bought him a new video game to make him feel better. That exact same day, I brought home a perfect score. I burst through the front door, waving the paper, eager to finally make them proud. But Noah saw it and started screaming hysterically. “Ollie is doing it on purpose! He just wants you to hate me! Make him stop!” That night, Noah got a bucket of fried chicken in his room. I was shoved into the basement without dinner, told to reflect on my toxic, competitive attitude. I learned the rules of the house that night. My excellence was a threat. The only way to survive was to be aggressively mediocre. From then on, I turned in blank test papers. I did the math in my head, wrote the perfect answers on scrap paper to prove to myself I knew it, and handed in nothing. I celebrated my genius in total silence. Looking at James now, seeing the genuine pride shining in his eyes over a simple conversation, my throat locked up. I stared down at my bowl, letting the steam hide the tears that fell silently into the broth. 3 When we finally pulled up to James’s house, his wife Sarah opened the door with a bright, welcoming smile. The moment her eyes landed on me instead of Noah, the smile froze into a tight, brittle mask. She grabbed James by the sleeve and aggressively yanked him into the master bedroom. I stood frozen in the narrow hallway. My chest tightened. I didn’t know if I should take my shoes off or turn around and walk back out into the cold. Thankfully, my two older cousins, Lily and Grace, bounced into the hall. They warmly dragged me inside, fighting over who got to show me my new room and forcing a plate of sliced apples into my hands. As we walked past the master bedroom, the door was cracked just enough for me to hear James’s “complicated reasons.” Sarah’s voice was a harsh, angry hiss. “You were supposed to bring Noah! You brought the delinquent? The liar? How am I supposed to fix a kid like that? I don’t have the energy!” “He’s seventeen, James! His personality is baked in. He’s ruined. We spent all that money renting that stupid car and that suit just to impress Noah, and you bring back the problem child?” James’s deep voice rumbled in defense. “He’s here now, Sarah. Let it go. He’s not what his parents made him out to be. He’s incredibly well-spoken and polite.” Sarah’s anger deflated into a long, exhausted sigh. When they finally opened the door, they found me standing awkwardly near the kitchen. Sarah’s face flushed deep red. She forced a painfully stiff smile. “Ollie. Welcome to the family.” The glowing text flared to life in the corner of my vision. [You can’t really blame Aunt Sarah. Nobody wants a teenager with a terrible reputation. They barely have enough money to survive as it is. She’s just burnt out.] [She’s a good person at heart. She’ll treat him like her own flesh and blood eventually. Noah really messed up. He threw away a family that would have actually loved him.] Reading that, the knot in my stomach loosened. Sarah wasn’t evil. She was just terrified of drowning under the weight of an awful kid. I could fix that. I met her nervous gaze and stood up straight. “Aunt Sarah. I don’t eat much. I will study hard, and I’ll take over the chores. You won’t have to worry about me causing trouble.” Just please don’t hate me. I swallowed the last sentence. As long as I proved my worth, they wouldn’t throw me out. James shot his wife a lethal glare, clearly realizing I had heard every word of their argument. Sarah looked completely lost for words, guilt pooling in her eyes. I didn’t want to drag out the awkwardness, so I picked up my duffel bag. “I’ll go unpack. Just leave whatever needs cleaning for me tomorrow.” I saw Sarah’s eyes instantly well up with tears as she stood paralyzed in the doorway. I ducked into my new room and quietly shut the door, finally exhaling a breath I felt like I’d been holding for years. I looked around. The walls were painted a soft, dusty pink. Faded pop star posters hung near the ceiling. But the bedsheets were a crisp, masculine navy blue. A brand-new desk sat in the corner, and a freshly assembled wardrobe held packs of new socks and underwear. It hit me immediately. This used to be one of my cousins’ rooms. Lily and Grace had shoved a bunk bed into the remaining bedroom just to make space. But this wasn’t done for me. Money was painfully tight, but James and Sarah had emptied their pockets to buy new furniture and sacrifice their daughters’ comfort, all to give Noah the perfect welcome. I was sleeping in the bed they built for him. I was getting his leftovers. Again. Why did he always get the best of everything without even trying? I collapsed onto the mattress. The exhaustion finally caught up with me, and hot, silent tears soaked into the brand-new pillowcase. My cracked phone buzzed aggressively against my leg. It was a barrage of videos from Noah.

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