Category: English

I am the brainless, busty “villainess” in a high school romance novel. My only hobbies? Trying to seduce the male lead and framing the female lead. Unfortunately, I failed at both. In the end, my true colors were exposed, and I was expelled. To prevent this tragic ending, I decided to find a new target and avoid the male lead like the plague. But the male lead, who was supposed to be a perfect gentleman in the original story, pinned me against the wall like a madman. My uniform skirt wrinkled under his grip as his hand tightened around my waist. His voice was low and bewitching, laced with an imperceptible madness: “Sophie, didn’t you say you liked me the most?” 1 The third time I used “delivering milk” as an excuse to seduce Caleb Vance, I awakened my memories. I realized I was the villainess in a novel. In the original story, I was the daughter of the housekeeper working for the Vance family. Since childhood, my mother instilled in me the twisted idea of climbing the social ladder. Living under the same roof, Caleb was the best target I could find. Unfortunately, he had no interest in a beautiful idiot like me. Instead, he favored the resilient, “white lotus” female lead, Lily Hart. Jealous, I made things difficult for Lily at every turn. But my schemes were clumsy and always exposed. In the end, I was expelled and kicked out of the Vance estate with my mother, never to be heard from again. Expelled? That means no high school diploma! In this economy, without a diploma, I wouldn’t even be able to get a job shaking bubble tea. So, “never to be heard from again” probably meant starving to death in a rental apartment. The thought made me shiver. I dared not covet Caleb anymore. But just then, the door in front of me opened. Caleb looked down, seemingly tired of my clumsy tricks. “What is it?” Startled, my hand shook. The glass slipped from my fingers, shattering on the floor with a crisp sound. I didn’t care about the milk splashing onto my nightgown. I immediately squatted down. Just as my fingers were about to touch the shards, Caleb grabbed my wrist. “Do you want to lose your hand?” His voice was cold. I tried to pull my hand back timidly. But Caleb didn’t let go. Confused, I looked up at him. I found his gaze landing squarely on my chest. Wait! Tonight, to seduce Caleb, I had chosen a sheer nightgown. Now, soaked in milk, the already translucent fabric became even more revealing. What Caleb was seeing… was self-evident. I yanked my hand back from his grip. Covering my chest in panic, I stammered, “I, I… I’ll clean it up later!” I ran back to my room and changed. Long sleeves, long pants, plaid pajamas. Covered up tight. Then, ignoring my mother’s disappointed look, I obediently cleaned up the glass shards and milk stains. After finishing, I looked up at his closed door. I swore in my heart: Stay away from Caleb Vance. Stay safe. 2 I had nightmares and didn’t sleep well. The next morning, unsurprisingly, I woke up late. Yawning, I stuffed a piece of blueberry toast in my mouth, put on my shoes, and ran out. Unexpectedly, I bumped into Caleb at the gate of the estate. The standard school uniform looked different on him. The crisp collar and the metal emblem on his blazer reflected the blinding sunlight, making him look noble and upright. Seeing me, Caleb didn’t say much. “Get in.” I took half a step back. Wait, this wasn’t what I planned. I grew up in the Vance household with my mom. While I wasn’t family, Mrs. Vance took care of me because I was young and sweet-talking. Thanks to her, I could attend the same elite private high school as Caleb. My mom even pushed her luck, asking for me to share a car with him to and from school, creating opportunities for me to seduce him. Unfortunately, Caleb was an unmelting block of ice. No matter what I did, he was unmoved. I wanted to use being late as an excuse to start going to school separately. I didn’t expect him to wait for me. I hesitated, wanting to refuse, but swallowed my words under Caleb’s gaze. “Hurry up, we’re going to be late.” “…Okay.” I dared not disobey and got into the car. Throughout the ride, I pressed myself against the window, trying my best not to touch Caleb. Almost there! Almost at school! I clenched my fists, cheering myself on. Suddenly, the car lurched. Caught off guard, I lost my balance and fell toward Caleb. My forehead slammed into his shoulder. Pain blinded me, and I almost cried. Covering my forehead with one hand, I searched for a support point with the other to push myself back. But my hand slipped, and I fell onto Caleb again. This time, I saw clearly. My palm wasn’t pressing on the leather seat, but on Caleb’s thigh. 3 This was fatal. If the driver hadn’t stopped the car right then, my escape would have counted as jumping from a moving vehicle. I didn’t dare look at Caleb’s expression and bolted toward the classroom. Maybe shame buffed my speed. I wasn’t late. Caleb, on the other hand, walked in unhurriedly just as the bell rang. I rejoiced. Thankfully, Caleb had refused my request to be desk mates, citing he wasn’t used to having people next to him. Otherwise, I would be sitting on pins and needles, preferring to drop out. That morning, contrary to my usual behavior, I didn’t pester Caleb. Not even eye contact. The second to last period was PE. The noon sun was blinding. I leaned against the only tree on the field providing shade, slacking off. No special reason. My mom was afraid I’d get tanned. She once said: “Men are visual creatures. If you’re fair and your skin is tender, they’ll worship you without you even smiling. If you’re dark and ugly, they won’t appreciate you even if you die for them.” Is that true? I don’t know. But I was happy not to sweat on the field. PE ended quickly. I followed the crowd back to the classroom. Looking down, I saw my jewelry box open under the desk. It was empty. I froze. This scene felt familiar. Before I could think, a hand picked up the box. It was my desk mate, Bella. “Sophie, did you lose something?” Her voice was loud, attracting attention. I remembered. This was my first confrontation with the female lead in the novel! I had stuffed my necklace into Lily’s bag during PE to frame her. But I failed, and my necklace was exposed as a fake. In reality, I bought it with real money! I wanted to cry. But right now, my necklace was still around my neck. What was missing was the bracelet Caleb gave me. He tossed it to me on my seventeenth birthday, saying it wasn’t worth much. I wore it happily. But yesterday, I decided to distance myself from him. If Lily misunderstood my feelings because of a bracelet, I’d never clear my name. Better to put it away. I waved my hand to stop Bella. “It’s nothing, just a bracelet… not worth much.” Unexpectedly, Bella got excited. “You mean the bracelet you always wear? That’s Sugilite! Ice-grade cherry blossom pink! It’s worth at least twenty grand!” Twenty grand?! I jumped up in shock. That’s my mom’s annual salary! Is this what rich people mean by “not worth much”? I blinked in confusion. Bella said indignantly, “Who is shameless enough to steal Sophie’s stuff? Return it now, or I’ll search your bags!” Whispers started. Someone mentioned Lily. “Besides Lily, who else is poor enough to steal? No wonder her parents sold everything to send her here. Stealing a bracelet would cover the tuition.” Mocking laughter erupted. Lily’s eyes turned red, holding back tears. Bella rushed to search Lily’s bag. Seeing things spiral out of control, I hugged Bella’s waist to stop her. “Wait! We can’t accuse her without evidence! Being poor doesn’t mean having bad character!” In the book, Lily was the epitome of integrity and resilience. But maybe too resilient. Lily slammed her bag on the desk and dumped it out. Contents scattered. Clatter. Caleb’s bracelet lay there conspicuously. Silence fell. Lily’s face changed. She seemed confused about why it was there. Then, she looked at me coldly. “Did you frame me?” Me? Me? The study representative added, “I saw Sophie return to the classroom during PE.” Everyone’s suspicious gaze fell on me again. I opened my mouth to explain but couldn’t say a word. A sense of powerlessness washed over me. What does this mean? I have to take the blame? My reaction looked like guilt. Plus, I had been hostile to Lily because she was close to Caleb. Framing her seemed logical. “Check the surveillance, then call the police.” Caleb, sitting by the window and silent until now, looked up. His gaze swept over me briefly. I felt uncomfortable. Someone asked, “Wasn’t the camera broken?” “I had it fixed,” Caleb said, looking indifferent, then lowered his eyes again. A voice broke the deadlock. A boy picked up the bracelet and sneered, “Just a joke. Lily is always so cold and aloof, so I borrowed Sophie’s stuff to prank her. No need for police, right?” He handed the bracelet back to me. I held the pink bracelet. And did something unexpected. I slapped him across the face. “It’s not funny at all!” 4 The framing incident passed without disaster. I was relieved. In the car home with Caleb, I fidgeted with my skirt and tentatively spoke: “Caleb.” He turned, his dark pupils like bottomless whirlpools. I handed over the bracelet. “Here, take this back.” He didn’t take it. I swallowed and explained, “I didn’t know your gift was so expensive. I feel uneasy wearing it. Please take it back.” After a moment, Caleb reached out. He picked up the bracelet. His hand was slender and well-proportioned. The cherry blossom pink bracelet hung on his knuckles. I noticed him looking at a bead cracked by Lily. “Sorry, I didn’t take good care of your gift.” Caleb didn’t respond. He deftly disassembled the bracelet, removed the cracked bead, and replaced it with a wooden bead from his own bracelet. The crystal pink bead and the wooden one looked mismatched. I didn’t understand his intention. Caught off guard, he grabbed my wrist. His temperature was cool, making me shiver. He methodically put the bracelet back on my wrist. His movements were serious, like putting a collar on a pet. “Wear it.” Caleb repeated what he said on my birthday. “It suits you.”

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The blizzard had sealed us in and cut the power for four days, and the indoor temperature had dropped below zero. My five-year-old daughter, Maisie, was shivering in my arms, wearing only a thin sweater. My husband, Gary Miller, was outside. He had taken the last of our emergency heating briquettes and arranged them in a giant heart shape in the snow. He did it because the woman living next door had texted him, saying she wished she could see some fireworks. He lit the briquettes. The firelight reflected, warm and satisfied, on his face. He waved enthusiastically toward the woman’s second-story window. I pulled my gaze back and touched Maisie’s forehead. It was already burning up. Gary burst through the door, tracking snow. He was beaming as he told me, “She smiled, Audra. Sherry actually smiled.” He added, with a dismissive wave of his hand, “We have parkas and blankets. We’ll tough it out.” I held my now semiconscious daughter closer and pushed away the hand he reached out to me. “Get out of my way.” He was right. From this moment on, I wasn’t going to “tough it out” anymore. I was going to take my daughter to a spring he would never be a part of. … Gary Miller pushed open the door, letting in a gust of frigid air and the faint, cloying scent of gardenia, his signature cologne. I tightened my hold on five-year-old Maisie. She was tucked deep into a sleeping bag, and her breath misted in the cold air. The power had been out for two days. Our only remaining heat source was the few boxes of coal briquettes stored in the utility closet. Gary walked straight to the closet, hauled out two full boxes, and started for the door. I slid off the bed and blocked his path, my eyes locked on the boxes. “What are you doing? That is the last of the fuel.” He looked at me with an expression of weary martyrdom. “Sherry Kinsley lives next door. She’s alone, the power’s out, and she’s already complaining about the cold. She’s delicate. What if she freezes? Neighbors help neighbors, Audra.” I grabbed the edge of a cardboard box. “Maisie has a fever. The temperature in this house is dropping fast.” I kept my voice low, but it vibrated with cold fury. “If you give her the coal, how are we supposed to survive? Are you trying to let your own wife and daughter freeze to death?” Gary easily yanked the boxes free. My hand scraped against the rough cardboard. I stumbled backward, hitting the coat rack. He smoothed the collar of his thermal shirt, giving me a quick, disdainful glance. “Audra Price, when did you become so selfish? We have down coats and blankets. We can tough this out. Sherry doesn’t even have proper winter gear.” He paused, his lip curling. “You can’t just think about yourself. Be generous. Don’t make me think you’re nothing but a bitter nag.” The front door slammed shut, letting a blast of wind and snow into the hall. I scrambled up and pressed my face to the windowpane, looking through the ice-frosted glass. In the backyard, Gary dumped the boxes of fuel onto the snow, meticulously arranging the black briquettes into a massive heart shape. He pulled out a lighter and ignited them. Flames shot up, bathing his face in an unnatural, satisfied red glow. He tilted his head back, waving up toward the second-floor window next door, where a single candlelight flickered. The curtain moved. A silhouette appeared—a slender figure in what looked like a thin slip dress, holding a wineglass. Gary pulled out his phone and sent a voice message. I could hear the tinny sound through the wall. “Sherry, honey, this fire might not be as pretty as fireworks, but it’ll warm your little heart. See how the flame looks exactly like my heart for you?” I turned away. Maisie whimpered in the sleeping bag. Her forehead was like a furnace. I picked up the old tablet, hoping to put on a show to distract her, but a message popped up: “Subscription Expired.” Gary came in humming, brushing snow off his coat. He was sending another voice message as he kicked off his boots. “Alright, alright, stop pouting. I already renewed your Platinum VIP account. Watch whatever you want. Don’t worry about data, I put you on an unlimited plan.” I shoved the tablet at him. “Maisie wants to watch Paw Patrol. Can you renew the account for the house?” Gary pushed my hand away. “Renew it? Are you kidding? We have no cash to spare right now. Besides, too much screen time is bad for a kid’s eyes. It’s good the power’s out; maybe she’ll break the habit.” I stared into his eyes. “You just spent hundreds of dollars on a Platinum VIP account for Sherry Kinsley.” Gary’s face hardened. He quickly locked his phone and jammed it into his coat pocket. “Were you spying on my phone? Audra, where is the basic trust between a husband and wife? Don’t I deserve privacy?” I pointed to the bedroom. “Maisie’s fever is spiking at 102 degrees. Go get the Motrin. It’s on the top shelf of the utility closet.” Gary shook his head, already turning for the door. “It’s just a fever. Bundle her up; she’ll sweat it out. Stop being so dramatic. Sherry’s water pipes might have burst. I need to go help her fix them.” He snatched his toolbox. “She’s a single woman living alone. If I don’t help her, who will? Can’t you be reasonable for once?” He charged out into the storm. I held the limp Maisie in my arms, listening to the faint sound of laughter drifting over from the next house. Around 3 AM, I checked my phone and saw a new post on Sherry’s social media feed. The photo showed two shadows cozied up in front of a blazing hearth. The caption read: “Snowy night, warm company. So glad to have you.” The fuel in that hearth was the last of the coal from my house. I put the phone down and began systematically searching the house, packing every usable supply into my old hiking backpacks. The next morning, Gary returned, a tell-tale hickey visible on his neck. He collapsed onto the sofa. “Honey, do we have any food? I’m starving.” He groaned, rubbing his back. “I was up all night fixing pipes. My back is killing me. Make me a big bowl of hot soup noodles. Put two eggs in it.” I was in the kitchen, carefully feeding warm water to Maisie. I glanced at him. The pot on the stove held a small amount of thin rice porridge—all that was left, and it was reserved for Maisie. I picked up the pot. In front of him, I slowly, deliberately poured the entire contents into the trash can. Gary shot upright. “Are you insane?! That’s food! Do you have any idea what the situation is outside? And you just dump it? Are you sick in the head?” I tossed the empty pot into the sink. “I’d feed it to the dog before I gave it to you.” Gary pointed a shaky finger at me. “Audra Price, what the hell is your problem? I just went to help a neighbor fix a leaky pipe! Why are you being so passive-aggressive? Your heart is the size of a pinprick! Why can’t you be understanding, like Sherry?” I turned toward a cabinet, searching for a piece of hidden chocolate Maisie had stashed months ago. Gary spotted it, snatched the candy bar from my hand, and shoved it into his pocket. “This is mine. Sherry has low blood sugar; she woke up dizzy this morning. She needs this for an emergency boost.” I reached out to grab it back. “That’s for Maisie! She hasn’t eaten anything solid in a day!” Gary shoved me hard. I stumbled and hit the wall. He protected his pocket. “Kids shouldn’t eat too much candy, it ruins their teeth! Sherry needs this for survival!” He paused, straightening his coat. “Besides, I’m just cultivating a good relationship with her. She can help us out later if we need it.” He hurried toward the neighbor’s house. Through the window, I saw Sherry standing at the second-floor sill, wearing my expensive, delicate lace thermal undershirt. The neckline was pulled low. She bent over to smile at him, the garment hanging loosely on her. Gary reached out, pinching her waist through the windowpane, and they shared a long, private smile. Thirty minutes later, Gary was back. I pointed to his phone, which he’d left charging on the nightstand. “Sherry is wearing my clothes.” Gary’s eyes flickered. “Oh. Her clothes got wet, she didn’t have a spare. I just lent her a set for an emergency. You have so many clothes, it’s not like you’ll miss one thermal set.” He scoffed. “Look at you. Why is your mind always in the gutter? She borrowed a shirt, and you’re already spinning a sordid story. You are utterly irrational.” I didn’t argue further. I walked into the bedroom. Seeing my silence, Gary just huffed. “That’s right. It’s normal for a man to have a little fun. As long as you behave and stop being so suspicious, this house is still yours.” He went into the bathroom. I heard the shower turn on. I picked up his phone, which was plugged in on the nightstand. I typed in Sherry’s birthday as the password. I opened his banking app and transferred every liquid cent from his primary account. Then, I opened his insurance folder and purchased a massive accidental death and dismemberment policy, listing Maisie as the sole beneficiary. I deleted the confirmation texts and placed the phone back on the nightstand. From under the bed, I dragged out a signal booster. The screen flickered a few times and finally connected to a faint satellite signal. I sent my coordinates and a short message to a former contact: “Coordinates confirmed. Awaiting extraction.” The reply came back instantly: “Received. Blizzard too heavy for rotary. ETA: Three days.” Gary emerged from the bathroom, toweling his hair. He saw me sitting on the edge of the bed. “Honey, make a pot roast tonight, okay? Sherry said she’s craving home cooking. I’ll take a plate over to her.” I avoided his hand and gave him a faint, chillingly calm smile. “Of course. I’ll start preparing right now.” Gary paused, then grinned, relieved. “That’s my girl. A woman who knows how to be supportive. Don’t worry, I’ll be nicer to you now. As long as you don’t make a fuss.” I touched the small folding knife concealed in my pocket. Deep in the night, Maisie began to convulse beneath the blanket. Her jaw was clenched, her eyes rolled back, and a horrible rattling sound came from her throat. I frantically searched the medical kit, finding only half a bottle of liquid Motrin. As I struggled to twist the cap off, Gary’s phone chirped. It was a voice message from Sherry, her voice laced with a dramatic sniffle. “Gary, my head hurts so much. I think I’m coming down with something.” Gary, who had been playing a video game, instantly bolted up. He lunged across the bed and snatched at the medicine bottle in my hand. “Give it to me! Sherry isn’t feeling well!” I held the bottle in a death grip. “Maisie is having a seizure! This is life-saving medicine!” My voice was a desperate hiss. “Sherry only has a headache! Maisie could die! Are you even human? She’s your daughter!” He brutally wrenched my fingers apart. “Kids get fevers all the time! She’ll shake it off!” He was shouting now. “Sherry is delicate! What if she gets a high fever and damages her brain? Can you pay for that? Give me the damn medicine!” In the struggle, his elbow slammed into my cheekbone. Smash. The bottle flew from my hand, shattering against the stone floor. The pink liquid mixed with shards of glass, splattering everywhere. The silence was broken only by Maisie’s shallow, ragged gasps. Gary froze, then his face went purple with rage. He hauled back and slapped me across the face. “You crazy bitch! If neither of us can have it, then no one can!” He didn’t even glance down at his daughter. “You couldn’t even handle this one simple task! You ruined Sherry’s medicine! You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” He shoved the door open. “God, you’re toxic! I’m going to check on Sherry. You stay here and reflect on what you’ve done!” The door slammed. I threw myself over Maisie. I rushed to the yard, scooped a basin full of snow, mixed it with what little cold water was left in the pitcher, and created a slush bath. I soaked a towel and began relentlessly wiping Maisie’s forehead, armpits, and the palms of her hands. The water was icy, and my hands quickly swelled and reddened, but I didn’t dare stop. By three in the morning, Maisie’s temperature finally dropped, and the convulsions ceased. A video call came in. It was Gary’s mother, Maureen. On the screen, Gary sat beside her, peeling an apple. Maureen glared at me from the screen. “I heard you wouldn’t give that nice Sherry woman the medicine she needed?” Her voice was harsh and self-righteous. “Audra, you need to have foresight. Miss Kinsley’s family owns factories! They have money!” She leaned closer to the phone. “Gary is at a critical point in his career! He needs people like her to back him up. What do you do besides raise a child? You’re useless! Don’t get in Gary’s way!” She gave me a severe look. “If you take care of Miss Kinsley, you’ll be rewarded. If you cross her, you’ll be out of the Miller family!” Gary took a bite of the apple. “Mom’s right. Sherry can elevate my career. Just be a good wife, and your place as the main one is secure.” He smiled mockingly. “I won’t be home tonight. Sherry was upset and needs company.” I stared at the mother and son on the screen. I ended the video call and circled the next day’s date on the kitchen calendar. That was the final confirmed date for my extraction. I looked at Maisie sleeping peacefully in my arms and kissed her forehead. “Just a little longer, baby.” The fifth day. The blizzard had passed, but the temperature had plunged even lower. Early in the morning, the front door was kicked open. Gary supported Sherry, who walked in, looking rosy-cheeked and wearing the down parka he’d obviously taken from my closet. She pinched her nose. “Gary, what is that smell? It’s awful in here.” Gary gave a weak, appeasing laugh. “That’ll be my wife, the sour-faced hag. She hasn’t bathed in days. I’ll make her scrub up later.” He looked at me, his face turning cold. “The heating pipe next door burst completely. It’s uninhabitable. Sherry will be staying here from now on. Clear out the master bedroom. Change the sheets, she likes things spotless.” He threw me a blanket. “Take Maisie to the utility closet. It has no windows, so it will hold heat better. You can stay there.” Sherry walked over to the sofa and picked up Maisie’s favorite bunny stuffed animal. “Oh, this is disgusting. So many germs.” With a flick of her wrist, she tossed the bunny straight into the cold, empty fireplace. “No!” I lunged forward, but Gary grabbed my arm. Flames quickly consumed the rabbit. Maisie cried and tried to fight past Gary to save it, but he kicked her legs out of the way. “Stop crying! It’s better this way! Out with the old, in with the new!” He looked at Sherry. “Sherry is doing this for your health, you ungrateful child. You might have gotten a bacterial infection.” I stared at the ashes in the hearth. I looked up at Gary. “You’re absolutely right. Out with the old, in with the new.” Gary frowned at my tone. “Why are you smiling? Go make dinner! Sherry is hungry. Get out the best food we have. I’m going to have a couple of drinks tonight.” I nodded. “Fine. I’ll get ready. I’ll make you both a feast tonight.” I went to the kitchen and gathered the last of the preserved meats, canned goods, and dry provisions. Into the bottle of expensive red wine, I crushed ten sleeping pills. Ground to a fine powder, and shaken well. At dinner, Gary’s cheeks were flushed. Under the table, one hand rested intimately on Sherry’s thigh. “See, Audra? This is perfect. You can handle the cooking and cleaning, and Sherry can handle my social engagements and business networking.” He grinned. “The three of us, happy and successful. How perfect is that?” Sherry leaned into his embrace and smiled a saccharine smile at me. “Thanks for doing all the hard work, older sister. I’ll make sure Gary takes good care of you.” I refilled their glasses. “Drink up. It’s cold outside. You need to keep warm.” I watched them drink glass after glass until they finally slumped, unconscious, over the table. The smile instantly dropped from my face. I dragged their limp bodies into the master bedroom and dumped them on the bed. I stripped them both naked and arranged their limbs into a compromising embrace. I took out my phone, snapped a dozen photos, and recorded a short video. Then, I began to move. I emptied the house of every staple: the last of the rice, the flour, the oil, the clothes, the blankets, the remaining medicine, the hand warmers. I went to the emergency generator shed. I unscrewed the spark plug and dropped it into the sewer drain. Without that single part, the generator would be inert. Finally, I strapped the unconscious Maisie to my chest, threw the two heavy hiking packs over my shoulders, and opened the front door. In the blizzard night, a heavily modified off-road vehicle waited at the curb. I settled Maisie into the back seat, then glanced back at the house. The light was still on in the master bedroom, where two bodies were asleep. I shut the car door. “Let’s go.” The tires ground against the packed snow and sped away. The next afternoon. Gary woke up, shivering violently. He groaned, reaching for the blanket, but his hand hit a cold, naked body. He opened his eyes, saw a nude Sherry beside him, and a flood of last night’s memories rushed in. He grinned weakly and called out, “Honey, turn the heat up. Why is it so damn cold?” No response. Silence. He crawled out of bed, finding only his own shirt covering his body. The bedding was gone. He stumbled out of the bedroom, yelling “Audra Price!” The sound echoed in the empty house. On the living room table was a single sheet of A4 paper, weighed down by the signed divorce papers. Pasted onto the paper was the picture of him and Sherry, naked and intertwined. Below the photo, written in stark red ink, were four words:

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The ninth time my husband’s mistress had the audacity to change the locks on our front door, a flicker of genuine annoyance finally crossed his face. I, on the other hand, was the one to calmly soothe him. “She’s just a kid, Alastair. She doesn’t know any better. Don’t get worked up.” Alastair’s hand, poised to smash the lock, froze mid-air. He turned and stared at me, his eyes boring into mine. “You’re not angry?” I was almost at a loss for words. After five years of marriage, this kind of chaos was routine. If I got angry every time, I’d have died of a stroke long ago. Besides, my own young boyfriend could be a real handful himself. All I felt for my husband was a strange sort of commiseration. “No, not angry.” … I thought he’d be relieved, but his expression turned uglier. He grabbed my arm, his grip almost brutal, and pulled me inside. He stared at me for a long moment before lighting a cigarette. “I already told you, it’s over between us. You don’t have to act like this.” I watched the glowing tip of his cigarette pulse in the dim light and gave a weary nod, turning to change into my slippers. I’d heard those words a hundred times. Fought about it a hundred times. The worst was on our wedding anniversary. We were celebrating with family and friends when his little lover, sporting a prosthetic baby bump, burst in and turned our home into a war zone. In that moment, the mask I wore shattered completely. I lunged at her like a madwoman, ready to tear her apart. But Alastair pulled me back too hard, and I fell. A warm gush of blood pooled beneath me. In the end, her pregnancy was a lie, but my child was gone. My life had become a sick joke. “What are you smiling about?” Alastair straightened up, his hand clamping around my wrist. “You don’t believe me?” His mood was volatile, and to avoid an endless argument, I gave him a placating lie. “I believe you. Of course, I believe you.” I’d spent the whole day managing a temperamental young man; I had no energy left to deal with him. I just wanted peace. But my compliance only seemed to fuel the fire in his chest. He let out a cold laugh and suddenly seized my face, his fingers digging into my cheeks. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing. You’re trying to piss me off. I hate that dead look on your face, so don’t even think you can manipulate me.” I wrenched my face from his grasp, about to spit back a sarcastic retort, when my phone vibrated. I glanced down. It was another photo from his mistress, Sierra. This time, a barely-there thong bikini. Doesn’t this look better on me than it does on you, Rowan? Alastair says he loves how young I am… he can never control himself when I dress like this… I wasn’t angry. I almost wanted to laugh. Her little tricks were child’s play compared to his first conquest. That one had made her debut at our wedding. A year of planning, our friends and family waiting, and Alastair was nowhere to be found. After a frantic search, I finally found him in a dressing room. Beneath him, a naked woman. Seeing my ashen face, Alastair calmly pushed her away. He straightened his own clothes before reaching out to wipe the tears streaming down my face. “She seduced me,” he’d said. “I promise, it won’t happen again.” For the rest of the day, he held me, a hollow doll, and we went through the motions. I thought it was a one-time mistake. I never imagined it was the beginning of my own personal hell. Seeing that I wasn’t reacting, Alastair frowned and peered at my phone screen. A second later, he snatched it from my hand and deleted the message. “That girl is asking for it! I’ll teach her a lesson she won’t forget!” With that, he gave my cheek an apologetic caress and stormed out. It was one of his mistress’s classic moves. With Alastair gone, I knew he wouldn’t be back tonight. So I washed up and went to bed alone. But in the middle of the night, a pair of hot hands began to roam my body. Alastair’s lips were on me, his kisses urgent, but his voice was laced with complaint. “Why didn’t you wait for me? You used to always wait up, no matter how late I was.” I stiffened. The drowsiness I felt curdled into a wave of nausea. He reminded me of how pathetic I used to be. Soon after we were married, he started coming home late. I’d wait from ten to one, from midnight to dawn. He hated it when I called to check on him, so I’d just pace the house like a caged animal. On the lucky nights, he’d come home, bringing the scent and marks of other women with him. On the unlucky ones, I’d watch the sun rise alone. I had cried. I had thrown fits. He’d just watch me with cold eyes until I was exhausted, then drop a single, icy line. “Stop acting like a lunatic.” Annoyed by my distraction, Alastair pinched my cheek, his tone self-congratulatory. “I taught her a lesson. Canceled her credit cards. She’ll be here to apologize to you tomorrow.” I frowned, pushing away his wandering hands. I got out of bed and started for the guest room. “I’m on my period. It’s not a good time.” Alastair’s face tightened, a fire igniting in his chest. He stared at me, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “You were on your period last week, and you’re on it again this week? Rowan, are you taking me for a fool?” I ignored him and tried to close the door, but he lunged forward, blocking it. “I know I was a bastard before, but I’ve changed, Rowan. Can’t you see that?” His voice was pleading. He took my hand and pressed it against his chest, over the tattoo there. Rowan. My name. For a moment, I was lost in a memory. We were eighteen, and we got them together. His family wanted him to go to a military academy, but all he wanted was to study abroad with me. In an act of rebellion, he went and got my name inked over his heart. When I found him, I burst into tears. He hadn’t used any anesthetic. His face was pale with pain, but his eyes were blazing. He touched my face, his voice full of a beautiful, wild arrogance. “No one is ever going to take you away from me.” Back then, I was naive enough to believe that was forever. So when another woman sent me a photo of her lips pressed against that same tattoo, I completely dissociated. I couldn’t feel sadness, couldn’t feel pain. The only thing that brought a sliver of relief, a gasp of air in the suffocating darkness, was the sight of my own blood. My fingers curled into a fist. I forced a gentle, understanding smile onto my face. “You’re overthinking it. I really don’t feel well. Let’s just forget the past. We don’t need to talk about it anymore.” Alastair faltered, a hint of guilt in his eyes. “Really…?” The silence stretched for a few seconds before he spoke again, his voice laced with disappointment. “Alright, then. Get some rest. If you’re not feeling better, you should see a doctor.” I nodded, ignoring the desperate longing in his eyes as I shut the door in his face. The moment it clicked shut, my phone lit up. A picture from Nico, showing off the championship trophy from his baseball game. He was like a proud puppy waiting for praise. Funnily enough, I had Alastair to thank for meeting him. Three years ago, Alastair was having a passionate affair with a college student. I tracked them down at her campus, ready for a confrontation. Instead, he shielded her, slapped me so hard I fell to the ground, and then walked away with his arm around her. A crowd of students gathered around me, their eyes filled with pity. That was the day something in me finally broke. I walked to the tallest building on campus and climbed to the roof. Just as I was about to jump, someone tackled me, slamming me back onto the concrete. Nico’s arms were like steel bands around my waist, his warm breath ghosting across my face. He seemed to be searching for the right words of comfort. After a long moment, he came up with a line, delivered with a reckless grin. “He can cheat, so why can’t you?” He was right. Why the hell couldn’t I? A young, athletic body, the clean, fresh scent of youth… wasn’t that a hundred times better than an old, stale man? From that day on, we began our secret affair. Amazing. Keep it up. After praising my puppy, I turned off my phone and went to sleep. The next morning, I was woken by the sound of laughter and playful whispers. I walked out of the guest room, a headache already forming, and saw Sierra pressed up against Alastair at the door of the master bedroom. “Don’t worry, Alastair,” she cooed. “I’ll be on my best behavior and apologize to Rowan.” While Sierra was a picture of nonchalance, Alastair seemed distracted, his brow furrowed. “Just stop causing trouble. And don’t do anything to make her angry.” “I know, I know. Now, can you kiss me?” Sierra stood on her toes, and Alastair didn’t pull away. The moment our eyes met, I thoughtfully closed their bedroom door for them. “Rowan!” I heard frantic footsteps behind me, and then Alastair’s hand was on my arm, gripping it tightly. A vein throbbed in his forehead; he was barely containing his rage. “What the hell was that?” His question baffled me. “What was what?” His grip tightened, and I winced, my face paling. “Are you crazy? Let go!” He didn’t loosen his hold, his face dark. “Are you blind? Didn’t you see her kissing me?” The words that had been simmering inside him for days finally boiled over. “Rowan, stop playing the part of the dutiful wife! I’d rather you scream and shout and tell me everything you’re feeling than look at me with that dead face!” Sierra’s eyes welled with tears. She approached me, her voice small and timid. “Rowan, it’s all my fault. I’m the one who won’t leave him alone. It has nothing to do with Alastair. Please don’t be angry with him.” She sounded so sincere, so heartbroken, as if she wasn’t the one who sent me photos from their bed, as if I was the one making a scene for no reason. I slowly turned to Alastair, my eyes filled with an exhaustion that went bone-deep. “What do you want from me?” You want me to fight with you, like before? To watch your every move, like before? To lose myself completely, turning into a ghost of a person, like before? Alastair was so damn selfish. Looking at his thunderous expression, I suddenly didn’t want to pretend anymore. “Let’s get a divorce.” The room fell into a dead, shocking silence. The sound of Alastair grinding his teeth was audible. A horrifying laugh escaped his throat. “A divorce?” He shook his head slowly. “In your dreams.” He studied me, a calculating look on his face, then let out a sharp, derisive laugh. “Rowan, I was wondering what your next move would be. So this is it? Trying to threaten me with a divorce? You picked the wrong guy.” With that, he shoved me away, wrapped his arm around Sierra, and slammed the door behind them. I rubbed my reddened wrist and, as if nothing had happened, got ready for work. After that day, Alastair resumed his old habit of staying out all night. It was as if he was deliberately trying to provoke me, with new rumors of his affairs popping up constantly. The mocking whispers from those around me started up again. “Mrs. Vance? Please. She’s just clinging on. It won’t be long before she’s kicked to the curb, hahaha…” “She was always a social climber. Now that she’s older and lost her looks, she can’t keep her man on a leash. It’s pathetic, really.” … I pretended not to hear any of it. At the office, I focused on my work. After work, I’d go to the secret apartment I shared with Nico. I thought we could continue in this quiet stalemate. But then Sierra had to go and drag my mother, whose health was already fragile, into her games. She sent my mother the intimate photos of her and Alastair. The shock sent her into a coma. Shaking with rage, I stormed over to Sierra’s apartment. She answered the door in a bathrobe, fresh from the shower. Seeing me, she flashed a triumphant smile. “Ms. Vance, what brings you here?” She covered her mouth in a parody of surprise, her eyes glinting with malice. “Oh, don’t tell me your mother passed away and you need Alastair to come home for the fun—AH!” My fury exploded. I grabbed a fistful of her hair and slapped her across the face with all my strength. “You bitch!” Sierra’s shriek quickly brought Alastair running. He yanked me off her, throwing me to the floor. “Rowan, have you lost your mind?” A dull ache spread through my limbs, but it was nothing compared to the agony in my heart. I fought back a surge of tears and pointed a trembling finger at Sierra, who was now playing the victim. “She sent our bed photos to my mother! My mom is in the ICU right now, in a coma!” Alastair froze, his gaze snapping to Sierra. Sierra was sobbing uncontrollably, her whole body shaking. “My phone was hacked! I don’t know who sent them! Rowan, if you’re still angry, just hit me! Blame it all on me, I’ll take it!” She started slapping her own face, sharp, stinging sounds filling the air. Her cheeks were red in seconds. “That’s enough!” Alastair roared. He grabbed her hands, then turned to me. “What’s the point of bullying her? She’s with me all the time. When would she have had the time to bother your mother?” I struggled to control my shaking body and lunged for her. “If you have nothing to hide, then come with me to the police station.” “Ah!” Sierra cried out in pain as I grabbed her. CRACK. Alastair’s hand connected with my cheek. Time seemed to stop. My head buzzed. I slowly turned back to him, cupping my swollen face. A flicker of regret crossed his eyes. The hand that had struck me curled into a fist. But all he did was scoff, his voice laced with scorn. “If you weren’t so damn aggressive, I wouldn’t have had to hit you! You’re just jealous, so you’re looking for any excuse to blame Sierra.” I swallowed the metallic taste of blood in my throat. “Are you going to let me take her or not?” His voice was ice. “Never.” My fingernails dug into my palms. I smiled, though tears threatened to spill. All these years, whenever it came to his mistresses, I was always the one to be sacrificed. My child, my reputation, my dignity. All of it, gone. How many times had I gotten into fights with his lovers, only for him to pull me away, holding me back while their fists and nails rained down on my face? He would turn a blind eye to it all, only showing a flicker of concern when I spat blood. Then he would offer a few half-hearted rebukes. But now, I was done. I was so utterly sick of this disgusting relationship. Alastair was still lecturing me, his tone self-righteous. “Rowan, if you apologize nicely and stop giving me this attitude, maybe I’ll find it in my heart to take pity on you—” “Let’s get a divorce.” I cut him off coldly, throwing the divorce papers I’d had prepared onto his face. The smile on his face vanished. He stared at the documents scattered on the floor, then advanced, trapping me against the wall. “I told you, this little game of yours won’t work on me.” He looked so sure of himself, so certain that I was still the same Rowan who couldn’t live without him.

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I was just scrolling, ready to call it a night, when I saw the post from the campus queen bee: [I’m three months into an online relationship and meeting him next week. What do I do if he’s a 300-pound absolute unit?] The top-rated comment was viciously brilliant: [Gift the account and the guy to someone you hate. Let those two hot messes internally combust.] The queen bee was thrilled with the idea and went through with it. I shook my head, silently thanking my lucky stars that my girlfriend wasn’t like that. Not long after, I was on a sweet date with my girl when the queen bee tracked me down, pointing at my girlfriend and screeching: “You bitch! I was supposed to be Silas Archer’s girlfriend! Hand him and that account back right now!” 1 I was about to crash, but the post grabbed my attention instantly. I recognized the poster: Madison Hale, the reigning queen bee of the whole university. Seriously, she was dating someone online? Madison was currently melting down in the comments: [I swear to God, he told me he was six-foot-one and looked like a Greek statue. I bought it for three solid months!] [But I forgot to ask about his weight!] [I had a delivery guy scope him out today. He said a giant stepped out—a mountain of a man with a belly bigger than his chest, like a walking water heater. I want to die right here just thinking about calling a water heater “Baby” for three months!] The replies were a joke-filled disaster zone: [When the destiny drama hits hard and you’re a total looks queen.] [A guy gets hot for someone online and a photo drop brings him back to reality.] Madison was clearly losing it: [This isn’t about being messed with anymore! I’m supposed to meet this guy next week. I want to run over every single Orc on the planet!] Huh. Funny coincidence. My girlfriend and I were also set to meet next week. I flipped to our chat. The last message was from earlier in the evening. X: [Headed to the lab tonight. Don’t wait up for me.] It was nearly ten now. I shot her a quick message: Me: [Baby still swamped?] Me: [Seriously, I just saw this post that is so messed up!] 2 She must have been busy; no reply came for a while. I knew she couldn’t carry her phone around in the lab, so I wasn’t worried. I went back to the thread. In the meantime, Madison had added several more updates, each more brutal than the last: [Ugh, the Orc never quits. He just messaged me again.] [Just seeing his avatar makes me nauseous, let alone chatting with him.] [I need to go throw up.] The thread was mostly people gloating, though a few defended the guy. Madison shot them down without mercy: [Oh, you’re so noble? You talk to the Sasquatch then.] [He looks like that and has the nerve to date online? Has he apologized to me? I’m being nice just by not ripping him a new one!] More suggestions were pouring in. I skimmed through them, losing interest, and switched back to the chat. Still nothing. What was going on? She’d never gone this long without replying. Was she pulling an all-nighter in the lab? I couldn’t stay up. I sent her a quick goodnight, turned my phone off, and passed out. First thing the next morning, I checked my messages. Still radio silence. What the hell? But Madison’s thread had new updates. I frowned at the top comment: [This is super easy to solve. Poster, you can give the account and the boyfriend to someone you hate, let those two hot messes internally combust!] Seriously? That was dark. A lot of replies agreed the idea was shady, but Madison loved it: [Brilliant, sis! I’m so over my cousin, the drama queen. Done!] 3 Madison had a cousin? Never heard of her. Whatever. That was their drama. My main problem was why my girlfriend hadn’t messaged back. I scrolled through our chat history again. Nothing bad. She’d sent me a sushi delivery and proactively told me she was heading to the lab. So why no message? Just as I was considering calling, my phone buzzed. Her: [Good morning, Baby.] I immediately relaxed. Me: [Why’d you ghost me all night?] Her: [So sorry, Baby. Lab got a little intense.] Okay. Just the lab being the lab. I was completely relieved. Me: [Fine. I’ll let it slide, barely.] Her: [Don’t let me off the hook so easily. You can throw a fit if you want, Baby.] I actually blushed a little at the repeated use of “Baby.” Me: [What’s with the sugar rush today?] Her: [Missed you.] I felt my cheeks warm. Me: [We talk every day. You still miss me?] A few seconds of silence before she replied: Her: [So much.] Her: [I can’t wait to see you, Baby.] 4 She was on fire today! A flicker of strangeness crossed my mind, but my heart was racing. I quickly switched apps to scroll and calm down. We’d been dating online for almost four months. She was usually the cool, pulled-together one. She used terms of endearment, but rarely this mushy. Something was off. Seriously off. Was she hiding something? Had she done something bad? The previous night’s thread flashed in my mind. The warmth I’d just felt evaporated, replaced by a cold knot of suspicion. I sent a serious message: Me: [You’re acting weird. Spill. What did you do?] The chat went silent for a moment. Then, a voice message came through: “Busted, huh, Baby? I bought you a coke. Looks like I’m derailing your diet plan today.” I felt a rush of satisfaction listening to it. She’d sent me voice messages before, but they were always a sort of overly sweet, affected “girly” voice. This one, though, was clearer, warmer, and totally melodic. I saved the clip and sent a voice message back: “You are so strange today. Your vibe is strange, your words are strange, and your voice is strange.” She replied quickly: “And this ‘strange’—do you hate it?” Of course not! I’m a total sucker for softness. I cleared my throat and held the record button: “I don’t hate it. Keep it up.” She laughed instantly: “Okay, Baby. Come downstairs and grab your tea.” 5 coke first thing in the morning—pure sin! I mentally chastised myself while sprinting out of bed to brush my teeth. “Silas, you’re up early today,” my roommate, Nolan, said, sounding amazed. I grinned. “My girlfriend sent me a coke. Need me to grab anything for you?” Nolan waved me off. “I’ll go get my own.” I frowned. “You grabbed mine yesterday. It’s my turn.” Nolan was already standing up. “Let’s just go together. I use the stairs as part of my workout.” He was dealing with some health issues and medication that caused weight gain, and he was always quietly trying to lose weight. Since he insisted, we went down together. Deliveries were on shelves near the dorm entrance. It was early, so few people were there. I quickly found the drinks—four of them—with a clear note: [One for my Fawn Baby, three to treat The Fawn’s roommates.] I stared at the note for two seconds and laughed, showing it to Nolan. “My girlfriend’s treating everyone.” Nolan took the bag and whooped. “Thanks, Archer and his lady! Is this an anniversary? Did we just hit the jackpot?” I was surprised, too. She rarely sent me food, and never to share. Did her all-nighter in the lab result in some breakthrough? Was she just ecstatic? I was about to text her when someone called my name up ahead: “Silas?” I looked up, stunned. “Madison.” It was Madison Hale. She walked over, her gaze drifting casually to Nolan beside me. A faint look of disgust crossed her face. Then she glanced at the coke in his hand, and I saw a flash of— Schadenfreude? 6 I hated her look. I cut her off. “Something I can help you with, Madison?” Madison snapped back to attention and cleared her throat. “My club is having a big retreat next weekend. It’s actually really cool. Want to come?” I frowned slightly. Didn’t Madison have a boyfriend? Why was she inviting me? Wait. I paused, remembering the post and the comment. Madison had handed the account to her cousin, the one she hated. So, she was… single? A cruelly single person. I rejected her immediately. “Sorry, Madison, I can’t. I’m meeting my girlfriend next weekend.” Madison’s face froze. “You have a girlfriend??” I held my patience. “Yes. We’ve been dating for a while now.” Ignoring her deep frown, I pulled Nolan along and walked away. “Archer, you don’t seem to like Madison much.” Nolan nudged me. “Didn’t she low-key try to flirt with you last semester? Posted those cryptic messages on the confessional wall?” Sending a few vague messages counted as flirting? Plus, she had an online boyfriend while hitting on people in real life. Her character was definitely lacking. Back in the dorm, I took a picture of the coke and sent it to her. Me: [Thanks for the treat, Wife!] She replied almost instantly, focusing on a peculiar detail: Her: [Wife?] I smiled and held the voice key: “My bad. Thanks for the treat, Girlfriend.” Her: [Say it again.] I indulged her. “Giiiiirlfriend.” Silence for a few seconds. Then, a shower of Venmo notifications hit. I watched a string of transfers—$500, $1000, $999. I was shocked. Me: [Are you insane? Why so much money?] To be clear, in all the months we’d talked, she’d only sent me money once for my birthday—a $5 and a $20, the most awkward $25 ever. Her: [So happy. My Baby needs to be happy with me.] I couldn’t help but laugh. I was about to reply when another message popped up: Her: [Baby, I want to come see you sooner. Can I?] 7 My heart leaped, and the corners of my mouth curled up. Me: [Sooner as in?] She sent a screenshot of a train ticket: departure this Saturday, destination my city. I noticed the booking time: 6:03 AM today. She’d bought the ticket the second the booking window opened. My heart felt warm and fuzzy, but also a little nervous. I looked again at the passenger name: Jocelyn Reid. A beautiful name. Seeing I hadn’t replied, she started to worry: Her: [Baby?] Her: [Was that too sudden?] Her: [Let’s stick to next week then, okay? Don’t be mad…] Mad? How could I be mad? I quickly typed: Me: [Not mad. Just surprised.] Me: [Come! I’ll pick you up at the station! (p≧w≦q)] Jocelyn immediately relaxed and copied my emoticon: Her: [Yay! (^o^)/~] She was such a dork. I scoffed good-naturedly, but I was smiling. I thought for a moment and asked: Me: [Should we swap photos first? Just so we don’t miss each other.] Jocelyn and I met through a game. We’d only added each other’s secondary accounts; neither of us had photos posted. Jocelyn didn’t reply. Minutes ticked by. I started to worry. Was she going to be—unconventionally attractive? After a moment of panic, I sent another message: Me: [At least tell me your height? To narrow down the search?] Still nothing from Jocelyn. I was beginning to understand Madison’s frustration! Just as I was about to give up and make a video call, my phone vibrated. Jocelyn had finally replied. 8 A straightforward selfie. White shirt, long dark hair, a look that was both pure and sultry, and a tiny beauty mark near the corner of her eye. I stared at the face for one stunned second, then slammed my phone face down. Holy hell, she was gorgeous!!! How did I, of all people, end up with her? My phone buzzed again: Her: [Baby, I’m not really pretty… My roommates say I look cold QAQ] Her: [Baby, I promise I’m not cold.] Her: [Baby, you can boss me around.] Where was my oxygen tank?! Where was my oxygen tank?! I let out a groan of disbelief before forcing myself to calm down, replying with forced nonchalance: Me: [Not cold. Very beautiful.] Then a new wave of anxiety hit. She looked like that. What did I look like next to her? As if she knew my thoughts, Jocelyn sent a comforting message: Her: [Baby just knowing what I look like is enough. I’ll love whatever you look like.] That made me sound even more shallow. I wanted to defend myself, but Jocelyn shifted the topic: Her: [Baby, I have my final exam for this class now. Gotta go.] I sent back an ‘OK.’ Looking at the little cat-kiss emoji she sent last, I sighed deeply. I deserved the best, sure, but landing this best made me seriously nervous! After some thought, since I had a light class schedule, I dragged Nolan to the mall. New clothes, haircut, styling… When I was finally done, Nolan squinted at me. “Is the Mr. World competition happening on campus soon?” I laughed. “No, I’m just about to meet my girlfriend!” Nolan shook his head. “Man, you should just wear gym shorts and show her your profile from the balcony.” We were joking around when I accidentally bumped into a passerby. I apologized immediately. “Sorry about that… Madison? You’re shopping, too?” Behind me, Madison Hale had the weirdest expression. She looked me up and down, her brows knitting together. “Silas, are you online dating?” “Are you and your girlfriend… meeting, too?” 9 What the hell? She was eavesdropping and connecting it to herself? My girlfriend was nothing like her! I gave her a quick, vague answer and hurried away with Nolan. Back at the dorm that night, Jocelyn was in an evening class, which she’d warned me about. Bored, I lay on my bed scrolling the university forum. Madison’s post was even hotter, with everyone curious about the outcome. [Poster, what’s the situation?] [You gave the account away, why the silence?] [Did the cousin get busted? Do you need a GoFundMe for her hospital bills?] Madison’s reply was smug: [My cousin is such a thirsty idiot. I told her he was a six-foot-one hottie, and she just nodded along.] [They’ve been talking so much. Calling each other ‘Baby’ constantly. I heard they’re actually going to meet up!] [Damn, my professor just called. I can’t witness the carnage, but it makes me feel so good, hahahaha!] I cringed at her continuous use of the word “Orc.” I’d been a chubby kid growing up, and my grandmother indulged me, making me anything I wanted. In elementary and middle school, I hadn’t thought much of it. It wasn’t until high school that I faced some isolation and bullying because of my size. That’s when I realized that in the teen world, fat guys are definitely not popular. I started desperately trying to lose weight. Though I did slim down, I was still sensitive to those kinds of insults. Disgusted, I was about to close the thread when the page updated. Madison had posted a new comment, but this time, it wasn’t smugness—it was confusion: [I ran into my crush tonight. He’s also online dating and about to meet his girlfriend. What are the odds?] The comments section was full of people laughing: [My dog just took a giant dump. Want to taste-test it?] [Who cares who he dates? Mind your own business!] [Did the Orc crash into your head? You seriously think your crush is your online date?] I narrowed my eyes and coldly logged off the forum. Saturday arrived quickly. I woke up early, got ready, and headed straight to the train station. When Jocelyn booked the ticket, I saw her departure point was just a few hours away within the state. I reached the station just after nine. I clutched the bouquet in one hand and my phone in the other, my heart pounding as I constantly checked the clock. 9:20 AM. Another crowd poured out of the arrival gate. A girl in a white coat instantly caught my eye. She was tall and slender, wearing a white baseball cap pulled low, hiding half her face. But her presence screamed “stunning.” I instinctively took a few steps forward, and our eyes met. She visibly froze. Oh no. Did I get the wrong person, or was she already disappointed? Just as I panicked, a hand clapped my shoulder. That annoying voice came from behind me: “Silas! What a coincidence. Are you here to pick someone up, too?”

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The Department of Vital Records was the last place I expected to run into the ghost of my husband’s past. We were there to register our daughter’s birth. I was holding our newborn, three weeks old and swaddled tight, when the clerk at the window looked up. It was Piper, Adam’s childhood best friend—the one he always referred to with a sigh of responsibility and a faint, unattainable devotion. She stared at the infant in my arms for a beat too long, a subtle, cold assessment replacing the initial surprise. Then, a slow, manufactured smile spread across her face. “Well, isn’t this a coincidence,” she murmured, her voice laced with honey that always felt slightly sour to me. “By extension, I suppose that makes me her… aunt. What’s the little one’s name, Jenna?” “Sophie Grace,” I recited softly, the name we’d chosen meaning exactly what I wanted for her: a life of wisdom and favor. Piper glanced from me to Adam Miller, then back to me, tilting her head. “Lovely. I’ll make sure to expedite this for you both.” I watched as she typed the required information. The printer whirred, spitting out the final confirmation form. My eyes, as always, went straight to the most crucial line: the “Name” field. The breath caught in my throat. The world tilted. —ILLEGITIMATE— “What is this?” I demanded, the polite decorum of the office shattering around me. “It’s supposed to be Sophie Grace! This is more than a mistake, it’s… it’s outrageous!” Seeing my face, Piper let out a small, mocking puff of laughter, the sound muffled by the glass partition. “Oops? Did I make a typo?” she said, feigning innocence. “No, I don’t think so.” She leaned forward, her smile tightening into something cold and vicious. “A child conceived to force a marriage? In the eyes of some, the term is Illegitimate. I thought… it was rather fitting, actually.” “Jenna, dear, don’t you agree?” 1 Time paused. The frantic buzz of the fluorescent lights, the muffled crowd noise, the insistent BEEP of the waiting-list monitor—all of it receded into a distant, underwater hum. My ears were ringing, and the only sound that mattered was the heavy, sickening thump-thump of my own heart against my ribs. My daughter, startled by the sudden tension, began to whimper, a tiny, distressed sound. That cry was a key. It unlocked the blind fury that had jammed my throat. I fixed my gaze on Piper’s still-smiling face and spoke, each word a piece of shattered glass. “Whether this was intentional or a deliberate, malicious act, I want it corrected. Now.” Piper’s smile finally faded. She picked up a desk-side tumbler, sipped her water, and sighed with theatrical patience. “Oh, Jenna, don’t be like that. The system automatically submitted it. To make an alteration now would be a nightmare—a formal process, an incident report, managerial sign-off, the whole nine yards. It’s not something I can just undo.” She gave a helpless shrug, all officiousness and feigned empathy. “I’m sorry, but those are the rules. My hands are tied. Maybe… you two should just come back in a few days?” “How long is a few days?” My fingernails were digging painful crescents into my palm. “Who knows?” she chirped, a flash of pure malice in her eyes. “Days, weeks, maybe months. Anything entered into the system causes a ripple effect, you know. Big government bureaucracy.” “Piper!” Adam finally exploded, his voice loud enough to turn heads. “Stop the nonsense! This is a legal document! Fix this immediately!” Adam’s shout seemed to genuinely shock her. Her eyes widened, and her chin began to tremble, her face turning red with a speed I knew all too well. “Adam, you’re yelling at me?” she sniffled, tears welling up instantly. “How am I causing a scene? I’m just following procedure! The record is submitted. I don’t have the authority to override the system, I can’t just push a button to fix it, Jenna! You know I can’t!” She was sobbing now, the performance in full swing. “I… I really didn’t mean to be insensitive. I was just so happy you got to marry Adam and have his baby… I was just joking! We used to joke all the time! Why are you suddenly so quick to judge me… so cold?” She buried her face in her arms on the desk, her shoulders shaking. Adam looked at her tears, and the anger in his face instantly deflated, like a punctured balloon. He shot me a look—a familiar, weary look that clearly communicated: See? You’ve made her cry again. He turned back to Piper, his voice involuntarily softening. “Hey, Pip, don’t cry… I’m not mad at you. It’s just… this isn’t the kind of thing you can joke about. Our daughter’s name is important.” “How important?” Piper lifted her tear-stained face, her voice choked with sobs. “More important than your little sister? More important than a friendship that’s lasted over a decade? Adam, you only see Jenna and the baby now. Everything I do is wrong. I try to make a joke and it turns into a federal case…” “That’s not what I meant…” Adam rubbed his temples, a gesture of weary, male helplessness. “Then what did you mean?” Piper pressed, tears streaming faster. “I was just jealous of Jenna. I spoke out of turn! I’m sorry, okay? Jenna…” She turned her wet, pleading eyes toward me. “Please don’t be mad. I really didn’t do it on purpose. It was just an automatic reflex…” I watched Adam. He was visibly torn, but his concern—his heart—was clearly on the other side of that glass barrier. The whole scene felt grotesque, a piece of dinner-theater drama acted out in a government office. Yet, I was also chillingly clear-headed. My daughter continued her small, distressed sobs in my arms, a tiny, rhythmic hammer against my heart. I slowly inhaled, took the paperwork with the malignant “ILLEGITIMATE” on it, and gently placed it back on the counter. Then, I stood up, cradling Sophie Grace close. “Adam.” Both he and Piper looked at me. “Since you are incapable of handling this situation,” I said, my voice low and steady. “I will handle it my way.” I turned and walked out of the Vital Records office, my daughter and the awful piece of paper left behind. Behind me, I faintly heard Piper’s tearful voice. “Adam, did you see how she looked at me? She hates me! I didn’t mean it, I swear…” And Adam’s muffled, soothing, exasperated reply: “It’s fine, Pip, stop crying. She’s just… sensitive. I’ll go talk to her and get this sorted out.” The late summer sun was mercilessly bright, hitting me with a sudden blast of heat. I lowered my head and kissed my daughter’s damp little cheek, burying her warm, crying face in the hollow of my neck. “Don’t cry, baby,” I whispered, to her and to myself. “Mama is here.” “Your name is going to be Sophie Grace.” “No one is taking that from you.” “No one.” 2 I didn’t go home. Our house was full of Piper’s subtle, insidious presence. There was the spare, monogrammed bath towel in the guest bath, the forgotten designer sweater in the closet, the artisanal coffee pods she preferred in the kitchen cabinet—all reminders of the “poor girl who needs us to look out for her.” Adam always rationalized it: “She’s on her own in the city, Jenna. It’s the least we can do.” So I looked the other way. For years. On our wedding day, Piper had worn the bridesmaid dress I bought her, and her eyes had been red-rimmed. She’d clung to Adam’s sleeve, her voice a small tremor: “Adam, you’re getting married. Will you still look after me like you always have?” I had felt the current, the subtle undercurrent that was more than just friendship, but I dismissed it, excusing it as the clinginess of a girl Adam treated like a little sister. Later, when she landed her government job, Adam celebrated like she was his own sibling, hosting a dinner party. And then she’d used the excuse of “wanting to get familiar with the city” to crash in our guest room for half a year. I had always prided myself on being the generous, accommodating wife. Now, I realized my goodwill had been utterly wasted. With a heavy foot on the accelerator, I drove to my old studio apartment downtown. I bought it right after a promotion—a quiet space that was entirely mine. Adam had laughed at the time. “The house is huge, what do you need a tiny place for?” He didn’t understand. Some sense of security can only be self-provided. I gently placed Sophie Grace into the bassinet in the master bedroom. She had cried herself out and now lay peacefully, sucking on my finger, tear tracks still faintly visible on her long lashes. I sat on the edge of the bed and watched her sleep. The sharp, searing pain in my heart was slowly being replaced by something cold, hard, and utterly focused. My phone vibrated in my pocket. Adam. I let it go to voicemail. After the call dropped, a barrage of text messages followed. Jenna, where did you go? Don’t run off with the baby. Piper knows she messed up. She’s distraught, she’s been crying for hours. She’s just thoughtless, not malicious. Did you even think about how you made me look, storming out like that in front of everyone? She’s my family, Jenna. It’s just paperwork. We can get the name fixed, eventually. Why do you always have to make such a big deal out of everything? Can’t you just come home and talk? It’s just paperwork. I stared at the last line, a bitter, hollow laugh rising in my chest. Paperwork. The first official document of our daughter’s existence, the symbol that would follow her for life, had been maliciously replaced by his “thoughtless” little sister with the most insulting, demeaning slur. And he called it “just paperwork.” I closed the notifications without replying and immediately called the one person I knew could fix this mess without sentiment. “Mr. Caldwell, it’s Jenna Stone. I need your help, immediately. This is not about a contract; it’s about a criminal act.” 3 After hanging up, I walked over to the desk, pulled open a drawer, and took out a file folder. Inside were scattered receipts, a few printed photos, and an old burner phone. I powered it up. It held the things I had once convinced myself I was “overly sensitive” to see: Screenshots of texts from Piper to Adam at 2:00 a.m.: I’m scared, I think someone is breaking in. Can you come, Adam? A photo of Piper, wearing one of Adam’s dress shirts, making breakfast in our kitchen. The contact name in Adam’s phone, which I discovered had been changed from “Piper” to the nauseating “Pip-Star.” And once, I had found a cheap, sickeningly sweet cherry-flavored lip gloss in the pocket of his suit jacket—one that was not mine. I had always rationalized. They were childhood friends, practically family. Piper had a rough start; Adam was just being supportive. I had spoken up—gently, then intensely—and the response was always Adam’s frustrated impatience: She’s just a kid, why are you so insecure? or, the classic, If there was anything between us, we’d have been together already, you know that. Looking back, I was an absolute fool. I photographed every piece of fragmented evidence, organized it, and emailed it all to Mr. Caldwell. When I was done, a wave of profound exhaustion hit me. I went back to the bedroom and lay beside my daughter. She was sleeping soundly, a little pink rosebud of a face, oblivious to the storm brewing around her. I held her tiny hand and whispered: “I’m sorry, sweetie. I didn’t build a strong enough wall for you right away.” “But I promise you. From this moment on, I will not let anyone, in any way, hurt you. Not a single scratch.” “Your name, your future, is mine to protect.” The apartment was silent. My phone screen glowed again. Adam’s final message, this one heavy with suppressed rage: Jenna, are you done with the drama? You shouldn’t be out this late with a newborn! Come home, we need to talk! I’ll talk to Piper; she’ll go through the proper channels to fix the name. Fine? Don’t be so vindictive! “Vindictive.” I let out a silent, weary laugh at the word, turned off the screen, and tossed the phone aside. Talk? Oh, yes. We were definitely going to talk. But it wouldn’t be me talking to him. It would be the facts, the evidence, and the law doing the talking—to both him and his precious “little sister.” 4 Mr. Caldwell moved with incredible speed. By mid-morning the next day, he called with an update. “Ms. Stone, based on the material you provided, Piper’s actions constitute a serious abuse of public office and the fabrication of facts for the purpose of defamation. Given the target is a newborn, the nature of the offense is highly egregious.” “I have drafted a formal complaint and a request for investigation, filed simultaneously with the Inspector General’s Office for her superior division, and with the District Attorney’s Office.” “Thank you, Mr. Caldwell.” I held the phone, staring out at the hazy sky. “It’s my job, Ms. Stone.” His voice softened slightly. “Protecting your and your daughter’s legal rights is my commitment. Please contact me immediately with any new developments.” I hung up, sitting on the sofa, cradling Sophie Grace after her feeding. My little one, still oblivious to the gravity of the legal procedures her name had initiated, simply cooed and flailed her tiny fists. The calm lasted only until noon. First, a few work friends and acquaintances began texting me with vague, worried messages. Jenna, you okay? How are you holding up? accompanied by a worried emoji. Congrats on the baby! But… I’m hearing some really nasty things going around. Don’t pay attention to it. My stomach plummeted. I opened a direct message to a particularly frank colleague. “What are you hearing? About me?” She took a long time to reply. Jenna, I didn’t want to say anything, but I need to warn you. Someone is spreading a story that… that you were the other woman. That you snatched Adam from his girlfriend, got pregnant to force the marriage, and that’s why the baby… can’t get a proper name, and had to be registered secretly. They’re saying it with a lot of detail, about how the real childhood sweetheart was horribly victimized by you. I know you’re not that person, but the rumors are everywhere—local city forums, social media, a gossip blog. It’s bad. It was exactly as I had suspected. Piper was even more toxic than I had imagined. Not content with the public shaming in the office, she wanted to completely delegitimize me in the court of public opinion, brand me as a home-wrecker, and ensure my daughter would forever live under the shadow of “Illegitimate.” My hands were shaking as I held the phone, not from fear, but from a cold, absolute rage. Sophie Grace sensed my emotional shift and squirmed uncomfortably. I forced a deep breath, calming myself, and gently patted her back. “Don’t worry, baby,” I murmured. “Mama is here.” I pulled up the local gossip blog my colleague mentioned. Sure enough, a prominent, bolded headline was pinned to the top: SHOCKING! INSIDE SCOOP ON THE NEW COUNTY CLERK EMPLOYEE: HOME-WRECKER USED HER PREGNANCY TO FORCE MARRIAGE, AND THE BABY’S BIRTH CERTIFICATE NAME IS A JAW-DROPPER! The anonymous poster claimed to have inside information: A source close to the Department of Vital Records witnessed the whole thing! A woman named Jenna Stone, using her looks, hooked up with Adam Miller while he was with his childhood sweetheart, Piper. She immediately got pregnant, threatened him with the baby, forced him to break up with Piper, and rushed into marriage. The kicker: When Jenna brought the baby in for the certificate, the employee at the window just happened to be a close friend of the scorned girlfriend! The employee ‘accidentally’ typed in ILLEGITIMATE as the child’s name! The home-wrecker went ballistic, but the clerk simply said rules are rules—it was submitted, and it’s a long wait to fix it. Karma is a bitch! The comments section was already a frenzy. OMG! Seriously? That clerk is a hero! ‘Illegitimate’? Amazing! Jenna Stone? Isn’t she the one at [My Company]? She looks so innocent, but you never know! My heart breaks for the original girlfriend. That beautiful relationship destroyed by a tramp. The baby is innocent, but the mother created this mess. The clerk was wrong. A baby is a baby. STFU, Saint! Home-wreckers deserve this! Support the clerk! I heard Piper works at that office. Sweetest girl. Imagine having to process the paperwork for the woman who stole your man. The cruelty! The mob mentality was overwhelming, the narrative entirely against me, painting the “scorned Piper” as the victim. They were starting to doxx my workplace and my school, threatening to report me for “moral turpitude.” My phone vibrated again, wildly. Adam. I picked up.

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My husband has Bipolar Disorder. Every time he beats me, he guiltily transfers $10,000. I never resist. I silently accept the money, covering the bruises with foundation. My best friend calls me cheap, urging me to divorce. I count the balance in my account, a sneer curling my lips. “Don’t rush, the pig isn’t fat enough yet.” Until one day, he punched me in the stomach, and I miscarried. Chapter 1 “Venmo received: $10,000.” The mechanical female voice echoed in the empty living room, sounding particularly harsh. I spat out a mouthful of bloody saliva, a bit metallic, like the taste of rust. Lucas sat on the sofa opposite, head in hands, fingers buried in regret. His hair was messy, grabbed by himself during his madness just now. “Sorry… Honey, sorry… I couldn’t control myself…” His voice carried a sob, trembling like a withered leaf in the wind. I didn’t speak. Just silently climbed up from the floor. My knee hit the corner of the coffee table just now, piercing pain. Probably bruised. I walked to the mirror in the entryway. Left cheek swollen. Five finger marks clearly visible, red turning purple. Lucas didn’t hold back this slap. He really wanted to kill me, or rather, the “him” during the episode wanted to kill me. I picked up the concealer, covering it layer by layer. The foundation liquid was cold, touching the burning wound, this temperature difference sobered me up a little. Heavy footsteps came from behind. He hugged me from behind, burying his head in my neck. Tears dropped into my collar pata pata, burning me to a shiver. “Honey, hit me, scold me… I’m really not human…” “It’s okay.” I looked at myself in the mirror, pulling a perfect, tolerant, even saint-like smile. “I know you are sick. I don’t blame you.” Lucas cried even harder, like a child who made a mistake. He took out his phone again. “Venmo received: $10,000.” Plus the one just now, twenty thousand. This slap, twenty thousand dollars. Quite worth it. My monthly salary is only eight thousand, enduring the boss’s bad breath and clients’ difficulties. But at home, taking a beating, just enduring a few minutes of pain, equals three months of my salary. This account, however calculated, is a bargain. Lucas is a Trust Fund Baby, family owns factories, money is just a number to him. To me, it’s life. Chapter 2 Lucas fell asleep. Beating people is also physical work, especially beating hysterically like him. I covered him with the quilt, looking at that face which still seemed a bit gloomy in sleep. If not for the episodes, Lucas actually looks quite good. High brow bone, straight nose, a pair of seemingly affectionate peach blossom eyes. Who would have thought, under this skin, hides a beast? I closed the bedroom door, walked to the balcony, and lit a cigarette. I don’t smoke much, only one when it hurts too much to sleep. Phone lit up. WeChat from best friend Sarah. “Still alive?” I took a screenshot of the bank balance and sent it over. Silence on the other end for a while, then a long voice message. “Nicole are you sick in the head? Do you have masochistic tendencies? Twenty thousand bought you? Do you know domestic violence has only zero and countless times? One day he beats you to death, will you spend these millions in hell?” Sarah scolded fiercely, but I knew she meant well. She is the only one who knows Lucas beats me. I blew out a smoke ring, watching the smoke dissipate in the night. Typed reply: “Soon.” “What soon?” “The pig is almost fat enough.” Sarah sent a string of ellipses, probably thinking I was hopeless. Of course I’m not crazy. I am very sober. More sober than anyone. I touched my belly. It was flat, soft, without any sign of life. But I need it to have one. Lucas’s Bipolar Disorder is getting worse. Used to be throwing things, then pushing, now using fists. Frequency changed from once a month to once a week. I know, that critical point is coming. Once crossing that line, I might really die. But I can’t leave now. The current Lucas, although guilty, is not enough. His guilt value hasn’t reached the amount I want. I want more than these twenty or thirty thousand pocket money. I want his everything. Or, his life. Chapter 3 Preparation work is almost done. That blood bag was bought online, special for movie effects, realistic texture, even with a disgusting b****y smell. As for that “fetus.” Obtained through some special channels. Very small, only palm-sized, an unformed lump of flesh, heart-stopping to look at. I hid it in the bottom freezer drawer, wrapped in three layers of black plastic bags. Every time I open the fridge for milk, I feel that lump staring at me with cold air. This is crazy, I know. But to hunt a beast, the hunter must be crazier than the beast. This Friday is Lucas’s birthday. According to custom, he will drink some wine. Alcohol is taboo for Bipolar Disorder, especially mixed with medication. But I still prepared the best red wine for him, Screaming Eagle, costing a small half of my savings from a year of beatings. Investment, always has costs. At 7 PM, Lucas came back. He looked in a good mood, carrying an Hermès bag. “Wifey, happy birthday.” I froze: “Today is your birthday.” Lucas smiled, walked over and kissed my forehead: “I know, but I want to give you a gift. As long as you are happy, I am happy.” At that moment, I was even a bit dazed. Ignoring those violent nights, Lucas is really a perfect husband. Rich, romantic, gentle. Pity, he’s a lunatic. I opened the gift, a limited edition Birkin bag. “Like it?” He looked at me expectantly. “Like it.” I nodded smiling, “Let’s eat, I made your favorite Sweet and Sour Ribs.” On the table, candlelights flickered. Lucas drank one glass, two glasses, three glasses. His eyes began to blur, cheeks flushed, voice louder. I knew, the drug effect started. Not the alcohol, but the “seasoning” I added to the wine. It’s a neuro drug that amplifies emotions and induces rage. Lucas has been taking Lithium Carbonate prescribed by the doctor recently, but I swapped the pills. Swapped for vitamin tablets that look exactly the same. And the real strong medicine, is all in this wine. “Nicole…” Lucas suddenly smashed the wine glass on the table heavily. Red wine splashed on the white tablecloth, like an exploding blood flower. “Do you look down on me?” His eyes changed. That familiar, violent, murderous look returned. Show time. Chapter 4 I pretended to be panicked, shrinking back. “Hubby, what’s wrong? How could I look down on you?” “You just look down on me! You think I’m a lunatic! You think I live off my family!” Lucas stood up abruptly, knocking over the chair. He walked around the table, approaching me step by step. I didn’t retreat but advanced, protecting my belly desperately. This action stimulated him greatly. “What’s in your belly? Huh? Is it a bastard!” This step I didn’t expect. His paranoia flared up worse than I imagined. But it fits my plan perfectly. “Lucas! Are you crazy? This is your child! I’m three months pregnant!” I screamed, voice shrill. “My child? Hahahaha! I can’t have children at all! I’m sick! I’m a lunatic! How can a lunatic have children!” Lucas roared, like a wild boar losing reason. He rushed over, grabbed my hair, and smashed me against the wall. Bang! Very painful. But I endured. I fell to the ground, curling into a ball. “Don’t hit me… please… don’t hit the child…” I cried out, voice getting weaker. But this didn’t awaken his conscience, instead acted like a catalyst, making him crazier. “Die! All die!” Lucas raised his foot, kicking my belly viciously. Once. Twice. I felt the illusion of broken ribs. But I must wait for that hardest hit. Now! I pressed the blood bag hidden in my clothes fiercely. Warm, viscous liquid gushed out instantly, soaking my dress, flowing down my thighs all over the floor. Bright red blood, spreading on white tiles, shocking to the eye. I let out the last scream, then pushed the prepared “fetus” out from under my skirt. It mixed in the blood pool, a small lump, purple-black, hideous and terrifying. The world went quiet. Lucas stopped moving. He panted heavily, eyes staring dead at the pool of blood on the floor, and that lump of flesh in the blood. His pupils shrank violently, whole person like struck by lightning, frozen in place. I also “fainted.” But the moment before closing my eyes, I saw the expression of extreme collapse on Lucas’s face. That was fear. Pure fear. Not because he hit me, but because—he killed someone. Chapter 5 When I woke up, I was lying on the bed in the bedroom. The sheets were new, but I was still wearing that blood-stained dress, even the blood stains had dried and hardened. Lucas didn’t dare change my clothes. Nor dared send me to the hospital. He was afraid. He was currently huddled in the corner of the room, like a frightened mouse, hugging his knees and shivering. The room was filled with a heavy smell of blood, and the smell of urine. Seems he peed himself in fear. I moved my fingers, letting out a weak moan. Lucas looked up sharply, eyeballs full of red blood streaks. “Wifey… you woke up… you didn’t die… great…” He crawled over, wanting to touch me but daring not, hand trembling in mid-air. “Child…” I spoke weakly, tears flowing from the corner of my eyes. “Where is my child…” Lucas’s face instantly pale as paper. He pointed to the bathroom, voice shaking uncontrollably: “In… inside… I… I don’t know what to do…” “Lucas, you killed him.” I looked into his eyes, saying word by word. “That was your own flesh and blood, a boy, I already named him… but you killed him.” “Ah!!!” Lucas covered his ears, letting out a beast-like wail. “I didn’t mean to! I really didn’t mean to! I didn’t know… I didn’t know you were pregnant…” “I’m calling the police.” I struggled to reach for the phone on the bedside table. Lucas pounced like crazy, snatching the phone, smashing it hard against the wall. Phone screen shattered, like a spider web. “No police! No police! Police mean I’m done! I’ll go to jail! I’m mentally ill, but I don’t want to be locked in a mental hospital for life! Nicole, please, don’t call the police!” He knelt by the bed, kowtowing to me frantically. Thud thud thud. Forehead broke quickly, blood flowing all over his face, but he seemed not to feel pain. I saw the timing was about right. The torture of this night, plus the side effects of drugs, his psychological defense had completely collapsed. The current him is a lump of mud for me to knead. “No police is fine.” I looked at him coldly, tone suddenly becoming calm, eerily calm. “But you have to pay the price.” Lucas looked up, face covered in blood and dirt, eyes dull: “What price? How much do you want? One million? Five million? Ten million? I’ll give you all! As long as no police!” I shook my head. “I don’t want money.” I propped myself up, enduring the severe pain (it really hurt this time, he hit too hard), pulling out a document from under the pillow. This was prepared long ago. “Sign it.” Lucas took the document with trembling hands. By the dim light, he saw the title clearly. [Voluntary Organ Donation and Full Body Disposal Power of Attorney Agreement]. Beneficiary/Executor: Nicole. “What is… this?” Lucas looked at me blankly. “This is your indulgence ticket.” I leaned close to him, whispering in his ear, voice like a devil’s whisper. “You killed my child, that’s a life of yours. Since you don’t want to go to jail, give your life to me for safekeeping.” “As long as you sign, this agreement takes effect. In the future, whether you live or die, your heart, your liver, your kidneys, even your corneas, are under my control.” “If you dare touch me again one day, or when I want you to die…” I extended a finger, gently sliding across his carotid artery. “I’ll take you apart, sell pieces one by one, to sacrifice to our child.” Lucas shivered. This is actually a threatening document with no legal effect, even absurd. But in the eyes of a lunatic on the verge of mental collapse, deeply mired in guilt of killing his son, and poisoned by drugs, this is a judgment from hell. And his only straw to clutch at. “I sign… I sign…” Lucas grabbed the pen, hand shaking like Parkinson’s, crookedly signed his name. Last stroke fell. I smiled. This time, not a saint’s smile. It’s a hunter’s smile. Pig, finally in the cage.

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“Your husband got a half-million-dollar bonus this year! What are you guys doing for the holidays?” It was the company’s annual gala, and my husband Nathan’s colleague’s wife, Laura, was smiling at me. I froze. Half a million? Nathan told me it was five thousand. He said business was slow this year, that everyone took a pay cut. I stared at Laura’s genuine, smiling face, suddenly at a loss for words. “Oh, you know. The usual,” I heard myself say, my voice sounding distant and hollow. On the drive home, I replayed the last eight years in my mind. Business is slow. The company’s struggling. Just wait a little longer. I had been listening to those words for eight years. 1 When I got home, Nathan was on the sofa, scrolling through his phone. The TV was on, the volume barely a whisper. A half-empty glass of cold tea sat on the coffee table. “You’re back?” He glanced up at me for a second before his eyes returned to the screen. “How was the gala?” “It was fine.” I put down my purse and went to the kitchen for a glass of water. Standing at the kitchen doorway, I watched the back of his head. Eight years. We had been married for eight years, and he never let me manage our finances. “I’ll earn it, you’ll spend it,” he’d promised when we got married. But what had I spent in these eight years? The house we lived in, he bought before the wedding. The car was his before we married, too. The year I quit my job, he said, “Just stay home and take care of the kids. You’ve got me.” I believed him. “Nathan,” I said, walking over to sit beside him on the sofa. “How much was the year-end bonus?” His thumb froze over the screen. It was a tiny, almost imperceptible hesitation, but I saw it. “I told you. Five thousand. Business was slow this year.” “What about Kevin?” Kevin was in the same department as him, having joined the company two years after Nathan. “Him?” Nathan frowned. “Probably about the same. Why?” “No reason.” I didn’t press him further. But I remembered what Kevin’s wife, Laura, had said at the gala. “Your department did great this year! My husband got $400,000, so yours must have gotten even more.” Even more. That’s what she’d said. Even more. That night, after Nathan showered, he left his phone charging on the nightstand. I lay in bed, pretending to read. He went out to the balcony for a smoke. I stared at the phone, my heart hammering against my ribs. In eight years of marriage, I had never gone through his phone. He had never gone through mine. We were the kind of people who “respected each other’s privacy.” But tonight… My hand reached out and picked up the phone. I knew the passcode. Our wedding anniversary. I opened his messages, scrolling through the chat history. Nothing out of the ordinary. I opened his payment app and checked his transactions. Nothing there either. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding, about to put the phone down— When a single line item caught my eye. “Transfer to Bank Account ending in 8856: $35,000” Thirty-five thousand dollars? I scrolled down. The same account, last month: $28,000. The month before that: $32,000. And further back— Every single month. A transfer. The amounts varied, the lowest being twenty thousand, the highest fifty. My heart began to beat faster, a frantic, painful rhythm. I didn’t recognize that account number. It wasn’t any of our cards. The balcony door slid open. My hand trembled. I quickly placed the phone back on the nightstand and squeezed my eyes shut. Nathan came back to bed. He climbed in beside me and fell asleep almost instantly. But I lay awake, staring at the ceiling, until the sun came up. The next morning, after Nathan left for work, I dropped our daughter, Phoebe, at her kindergarten and didn’t go home. I went to the bank. “Hello, I’d like to check the account holder’s information for this card.” The teller glanced at me. “And you are?” “I’m his wife.” “I’m sorry, ma’am. We can’t disclose another person’s account information.” I paused, then forced a smile. “Of course. Thank you.” I walked out of the bank and stood on the sidewalk for a long time. Account ending in 8856. Twenty to thirty thousand dollars a month. That was three to four hundred thousand a year. Over eight years… I didn’t dare do the math. Back home, I opened my laptop and logged into Nathan’s email. The password was his mother’s birthday. I knew it by heart. I found his pay stubs. A monthly salary of $48,000. With benefits and bonuses, his annual income was nearly $800,000. Eight hundred thousand dollars. He had told me it was $300,000. He said business was slow, that everyone was taking pay cuts. He said the bonus was only five thousand, that I should be careful with money. And me? The last time I bought a coat for $200, he gave me the silent treatment for a week. “Why do you spend so much? It’s not like you don’t have clothes to wear.” I returned the coat. That afternoon, I went to a coffee shop near Nathan’s office. I wasn’t there to see him. I was there to see Laura, Kevin’s wife. We’d met a few times. We weren’t close, but we had each other’s numbers. “Sophie? What’s up?” Laura looked curious when she arrived. We rarely met up alone; she probably thought it was strange. “Nothing much, just wanted to chat,” I said, smiling as I ordered her a coffee. “I had to leave the gala in a hurry the other night, didn’t get to finish our conversation.” “Oh, really?” “Yeah.” I looked at her directly. “So you said your Kevin got a $400,000 bonus?” “That’s right,” Laura beamed. “It was a great year. He said their department was number one, and everyone’s bonus was up almost fifty percent from last year.” “So what about Nathan? He’s the department head. He must have gotten more, right?” Laura paused for a second. “I guess so? Kevin said Nathan got the biggest bonus in the department, something over half a million, he heard. Why?” I smiled. “No reason. Just curious.” Half a million dollars. He told me it was five thousand. When Nathan came home that evening, I had a full dinner waiting for him. Braised short ribs, sweet and sour fish—all his favorites. “What’s the special occasion?” he asked with a grin, taking a seat at the table. “Did I win the lottery?” “No reason. Just felt like cooking.” I served him a bowl of soup. “Nathan, how long have we been married?” “Eight years,” he said, picking up a piece of pork. “Why the sudden question?” “Eight years, and I’ve barely traveled anywhere,” I said. “How about we take Phoebe on a trip for the holidays this year?” “A trip?” Nathan’s brow furrowed. “Where to?” “Maybe Hawaii. Phoebe’s been saying she wants to see the ocean.” “Hawaii?” He put down his chopsticks. “That’s so expensive. Flights and hotels during the holidays would be tens of thousands.” “But didn’t you just get your bonus?” “It was only five thousand. What’s that going to cover?” he said, shaking his head. “Besides, I’m swamped with work after the new year. I don’t have time to go anywhere.” I just looked at him, saying nothing. He went back to eating as if nothing had happened. I suddenly remembered when Phoebe was three. I told him I wanted to take her to Disneyland. Nathan said it was too expensive. Maybe later. Phoebe is six now. “Later” still hadn’t come. After dinner, Nathan went to the balcony for his smoke. As I was clearing the table, his phone rang in the living room. I glanced at the screen. The contact was saved as “Mom.” But it wasn’t his mom. I had his mother’s number saved. The last four digits were 3344. This one ended in 6677. I answered the call. “Hello? Nathan? Max has a fever. Can you come over?” It was a woman’s voice. Young, with a hint of a sweet, wheedling tone. Max? Who was Max? “Who is this?” Her tone changed instantly. “Who’s on the phone?” I didn’t speak. Neither did she. Three seconds later, she hung up. I stood there, phone still in my hand, frozen. Nathan walked in from the balcony and saw the look on my face. He stopped. “What’s wrong?” I held the phone out to him. “Who is Max?” 2 The color drained from Nathan’s face. It was only for a second, but I saw it. Then he chuckled, taking the phone from me. “Max? Oh, that’s my subordinate’s son. She’s a single mom, things are tough for her. The kid got sick, she must have panicked and called me.” “A subordinate?” “Yeah, her name’s Isabelle. Just started last year. Her husband’s working abroad, so she’s raising the kid on her own.” He slipped the phone into his pocket. “I’m her boss. I have to help out sometimes.” I stared at him. He met my gaze, his expression open and honest. “You don’t believe me?” He smiled. “Fine, I’ll delete her contact. Here, you can watch.” He pulled out his phone, opened his contacts, and scrolled to a name. The profile picture was of a very young woman, posing with a little boy. The child looked about five or six, with a bright, happy smile. Nathan hit delete. “There. Happy?” He waggled the phone at me. “Seriously, you’re overthinking things.” I didn’t say a word. He patted my shoulder and walked into the bedroom. That night, he slept soundly. I didn’t. I waited until I was sure he was asleep, then quietly got out of bed and took his phone. He had deleted the contact, but not the call history. I found the number—the one ending in 6677. There were so many calls. At least two or three every week. Sometimes he called her, sometimes she called him. The longest one was forty-seven minutes. I wrote down the number, put the phone back, and returned to bed. The next day, I contacted a private investigator. It wasn’t that I couldn’t find things out myself. It was that I needed professional, undeniable proof. “This phone number. I need to know who it belongs to, where they live, and what they do.” The investigator was a man in his forties with a calm, seen-it-all expression. “Alright. You’ll have your answers in three days.” I went home, and life continued as normal. I cooked, took care of Phoebe, and waited for Nathan to get home from work. He acted just like he always did. Came home, ate dinner, scrolled on his phone, showered, and went to bed. As if nothing had happened. On the third day, the investigator called me. “Mrs. Davies, we have the results.” “Tell me.” “The number belongs to a Ms. Isabelle Reed. She’s thirty-two years old and currently resides at the Willow Creek Estates in the southern district.” Willow Creek Estates. I knew the place. A new luxury development that opened three years ago. The average price was over a million dollars for a condo. The place we lived in was worth a quarter of that. “She owns a 1,300-square-foot condo, which she moved into in 2022. She also has a car, a BMW X3, purchased in 2021.” “Did she buy the condo and the car herself?” “The property was paid for in cash,” the PI said, pausing for effect. “The payer was not her.” My knuckles went white as I gripped my phone. “Who was it?” “The system shows a wire transfer from a corporate account. The legal representative of that corporation is—Nathan Davies.” Nathan. I closed my eyes and took a deep, shaky breath. “What else?” “Isabelle Reed has a son. He’s eight years old, his name is Max. The father’s name is left blank on the birth certificate. However—” He paused again. “However?” “We checked through some other channels. The boy’s private kindergarten and elementary school tuition fees were all paid from Nathan Davies’s bank account. And every year, during winter and summer breaks, Nathan is the one who takes the boy on vacation.” I heard myself laugh. A quiet, dry, brittle sound. “Is there more?” “One last thing,” the investigator said. “The title deed for Ms. Reed’s condo has two names on it. Hers, and—” “Nathan Davies.” “Correct.” I hung up the phone and sat in my car for a long time, the engine off. Eight years old. The boy was eight years old. Nathan and I had been married for eight years. Our daughter, Phoebe, was six. That meant the boy existed before Phoebe was even born. Before we were married—no, wait. We got married in 2016. The boy was born in 2016. I thought back to the spring of 2016. Nathan and I had just gotten engaged and were planning the wedding. One night, he told me he had a last-minute work emergency and had to go on a business trip for three days. When he came back, he gave me a diamond necklace, saying he’d picked it up for me while he was away. I was so happy. I thought he loved me so much. It turned out he spent those three days with another woman while she gave birth to his son. I went home. Nathan wasn’t back from work yet. I sat alone in the living room, staring at our wedding photo on the wall. It was taken eight years ago. We were smiling so sweetly. I was twenty-six then. I had just quit a decent job at a good company, ready to become a full-time housewife after the wedding. Nathan had said, “Just relax and stay home. You’ve got me.” I believed him. Not only did I believe him, I was grateful. I thought I was the luckiest woman in the world to have found a man who wanted to provide for me. For eight years, I never bought a piece of clothing that cost more than fifty dollars. Because every time I bought something a little more expensive, Nathan would frown. “Our budget is tight. You need to be more frugal.” I switched my skincare from designer brands to drugstore ones. I swapped my designer-adjacent handbags for ones I found online. I even used the personal savings my mother gave me to help with household expenses. Because Nathan said business was slow, and he was under a lot of pressure. I felt sorry for him. I wanted to share his burden. And him? He bought another woman a luxury condo. He bought another woman a new car. He sent her tens of thousands of dollars every month, for eight straight years. Over eight years, that had to be at least three million dollars. I did a quick calculation. An average of $30,000 a month is $360,000 a year. Over eight years, that’s $2.88 million. Add the down payment on the condo, the car, the private school tuition— At least four million dollars. And what about me? How much money had I spent in those eight years? I tried to think, but I couldn’t calculate it. Because the amount was so small. So small I couldn’t even remember what I’d bought. At six o’clock, Nathan came home. “You didn’t cook tonight?” he asked, taking off his shoes and walking into the living room. I sat on the sofa, watching him. “Nathan.” “Yeah?” “Who is Isabelle Reed?” He stopped in his tracks. But he recovered almost instantly. “I already told you, she’s my subordinate.” “Then who is Max Reed?” This time, his expression finally cracked. “You’ve been investigating me?” “I wasn’t investigating you,” I said, standing up. “I was investigating the woman who’s been living off our family’s money for the past eight years—to the tune of four million dollars.” Nathan was silent. He stood by the doorway, not moving forward, not backing away. After a long moment, he sighed. “I was going to tell you, when the time was right.” I laughed. “The right time? You couldn’t find it in eight years?”

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As teens, my childhood sweetheart Wyatt and I were in his room watching a forbidden movie. He kissed me just as the door opened—both sets of parents saw. Under their scolding, Wyatt vowed to marry only me. We became Crestview’s golden couple, but as the wedding neared, he vanished after taking down a Southeast Asian black market ring. I searched globally, found him—but he’d lost his memory. He kept his promise, and we married. Yet for seven years, our home was cold and silent. He eventually moved to a remote Zen retreat, leaving me alone in our mansion. Then my father was framed for fraud. Wyatt used all his influence to clear our name, and took a poisoned needle meant for me. Dying, he whispered, “In this life, I’ve failed no one but Evanna. I owe her a life. In the next, don’t look for me. Let me live simply with her in the Old City Tenements.” Through tears, I agreed. When I opened my eyes, I was back to the day I first found Wyatt. … The evening breeze from Victoria Harbor carried the damp, salty scent of the sea, and the city’s neon lights shimmered like scattered jewels. Beside me, Mrs. Quinn was weeping with joy. “Is Wyatt really here?” “Yes, ma’am,” an assistant confirmed. “A Miss Evanna Ross rescued him from the docks. They’ve been living together in this tenement building ever since.” “I’ll go up myself.” I snapped back to reality. The smart watch on my wrist cast a cool, blue glow in the fading light. Before me, the worn façade of the tenement building was a chaotic web of electrical wires. A cheap, festive wedding decoration was taped to one of the windows, its bright red color jarring against the grime. This was it. The place Wyatt had spoken of over and over again as he lay dying. The Old City Tenements. On instinct, I reached out and stopped Mrs. Quinn. “Wait.” She turned, her expression puzzled. “Autumn, what’s wrong?” In my past life, by the time I found this place, Wyatt had already fallen in love with the bubble tea girl who had saved him. They were about to get married. I had tried to reason with him, but he was adamant about staying in the tenements with her. To bring him back, I had called in Mrs. Quinn and a team of top neurologists. And it was on this very night that Wyatt, after seeing his mother, finally agreed to undergo deep hypnosis therapy. The next day, his memory returned, and he agreed to come back to our life on the Peak. But no sooner had we left, the bubble tea girl, Evanna Ross, committed suicide by overdose. Her death became an unbridgeable chasm between Wyatt and me, a knot that could never be untied. Even as he lay dying to protect me, his last wish was for another life, a chance to have a happy ending with her. Thinking of this, I suppressed the sharp pain in my chest and spoke in a low voice. “Mrs. Quinn, they’re about to be married.” Mrs. Quinn patted my hand reassuringly. “Silly girl. Wyatt has only temporarily lost his memory. Once he remembers, he’ll know who the most important person in his life is.” “You two grew up together. We’ve all seen the bond you’ve shared for over twenty years.” I took a half step back. “There’s something I’ve never had the courage to tell you. Seeing Wyatt fall in love with someone else because of his amnesia… perhaps it’s a sign from fate.” “I… my uterus is damaged. It’s very unlikely I’ll ever have children.” The only sound was the distant horn of a ferry. Mrs. Quinn’s face went white, her lips trembling. “You’re still so young. Modern medicine is so advanced…” “The world’s leading specialists have already confirmed it,” I said, my tone firm. For two years, I had traveled through the most dangerous parts of the world searching for Wyatt. The physical toll had been immense, and I’d never paid any mind to my irregular cycles. It wasn’t until our relationship thawed years into our marriage, when we started trying for a child, that the doctors told me my chances were almost zero. After a long silence, Mrs. Quinn let out a heavy sigh. “Even so, the Quinn family will not abandon you. And that boy, Wyatt, he wouldn’t care about that.” I bowed slightly. “My mother passed away when I was young, and you have always treated me like your own daughter. I am forever grateful for your kindness, but I cannot let the Quinn family line end with me.” In our past life, though Wyatt’s memory had returned, he always believed that his mother and I were responsible for Evanna’s death. He treated us with an icy indifference. He spent his years in that remote monastery, and during that time, not only did I lose a husband, but Mrs. Quinn effectively lost her son. Mrs. Quinn sighed again, a sound heavy with resignation. “Fine. We won’t disturb Wyatt today. We’ll reconsider our options.” When we returned, Mrs. Quinn immediately summoned her private medical team to examine me. The results confirmed what I had told her. The lead physician considered the charts. “With several years of intensive conditioning, there might be a slim chance, but… there are no guarantees.” I handed back the engagement gift, a ring that was also an encrypted chip. “My fate with the Quinn family has run its course. Since Wyatt no longer remembers, perhaps it’s best to let nature take its course. We can all go our separate ways and find peace.” Mrs. Quinn’s expression was a mix of sorrow and conflict. The next day, I continued to press my case. At first, she still refused to accept Wyatt’s marriage to the bubble tea girl. But then she saw it with her own eyes: the fierce, protective way Wyatt shielded Evanna. In the end, her heart softened for the son she had almost lost forever. We returned to the tenements. The iron gate creaked open. When Evanna Ross saw me, the color drained from her delicate face. My previous visits had already put her on high alert. She wore a cheap red dress, her eyes wary. “What… what are you trying to do now?” “I’ve told you, Wyatt’s head injury hasn’t fully healed. If you try to force him to leave, you’ll only hurt him.” “When did I say I was taking him?” I replied calmly. “Wyatt is the sole heir to the Quinn Corporation. His mother now approves of your relationship. There’s no need to rush the wedding.” During my previous attempts, Evanna had always used Wyatt’s injury as an excuse to keep me away, blocking me at every turn. Evanna bit her lip. “You’ve come to see my fiancé again and again. How do I know this isn’t some scheme to break us up?” Hearing this, Mrs. Quinn, standing behind me, bristled. “Are you suggesting I would lie about a promise I made myself? Besides, even if my son is injured, he has access to the best medical teams in the world. You don’t need to be so alarmist.” Mrs. Quinn came from a prestigious family and carried an aura of command. Evanna seemed intimidated, and tears welled up in her eyes. She stumbled backward and fell to the ground. “But… but his headaches… only my massage can relieve them. It’s a family technique…” “What are you doing here?” A tall figure strode forward, helping Evanna to her feet and pulling her behind him. He looked at us with the cold, unfamiliar eyes of a stranger. “I’ve said it before. I don’t care who you are. Evanna saved my life, and she is my wife. If you continue to treat her like this, don’t blame me for being rude.” At his words, Mrs. Quinn swayed. I had been prepared for this and quickly stepped forward to support her. “This is your mother,” I said, my brow furrowed as I met his deep, familiar yet alien gaze. Wyatt froze. His eyes scanned Mrs. Quinn’s face, noting the subtle resemblance in their features. After a moment, he spoke. “…Mom? I’m sorry.” From behind him came Evanna’s soft sobs. “Wyatt, so it’s true… Are you… still going to marry me?” The plan today had been to bring Wyatt and Evanna back to the Peak, but Evanna insisted on having a simple ceremony here first. Mrs. Quinn had no choice but to agree. Inside the cramped tenement apartment, two figures stood side by side, their every movement filled with a tender affection. I stood off to the side, my mind drifting far away. I saw a sun-drenched terrace at our villa in Repulse Bay. A boy with a bright smile tossed a custom USB drive to me. “Autumn Caldwell, I’m going to marry you someday. This is my promise.” I looked up, but his face was a blur against the backlight. Only his voice remained, warm and resolute. I snapped back to the present just as the two of them exchanged cheap, simple wedding bands. The ceremony was complete. The next day, we set off for the Peak. Along the way, Mrs. Quinn, seemingly unwilling to give up, deliberately brought up stories from Wyatt’s and my childhood. “At your first birthday party, you weren’t interested in the keyboard or the model gun. The first thing you reached for was Autumn’s hand.” “When you were seven, you stole the original Bitcoin wallet from your father’s safe. You got a thrashing for it, but we later found out you’d given it to Autumn.” Mrs. Quinn was getting animated, but I noticed Wyatt’s expression growing darker and darker. I quickly cut in. “There’s a coffee shop up ahead. Why don’t we take a break?” Mrs. Quinn nodded. After we got out of the car, Evanna looked at me, her voice small and hurt. “Mrs. Quinn… she doesn’t like me, does she?” “You’re overthinking it,” I said flatly. Evanna mumbled a quiet “oh” and turned back to the car. From inside, we heard Wyatt’s voice. “My head is starting to hurt again.” “I’ll massage it for you,” Evanna said, her tone full of concern. A flicker of suspicion sparked within me. I didn’t remember him having this problem in my past life. Before we set off again, Wyatt approached me alone. Before I could react, he pulled me into a dark alleyway nearby. “Did you put my mother up to saying those things?” he demanded, his deep-set eyes narrowed, his expression cold. I was stunned. “I didn’t…” “It doesn’t matter if it was you or not,” he cut me off. “From now on, please don’t let my mother do anything that upsets Evanna again. As for you and me, whatever was between us in the past… Evanna is the only one in my heart now. Please… just forget it all.” Wyatt gave a slight, formal nod, his posture distant. I opened my mouth, then closed it. Finally, I gave him a serious answer. “Alright.” I turned and walked out of the alley first. Evanna, waiting by the car, saw Wyatt emerge right behind me. Her eyes instantly turned red. Wyatt lost all of his previous composure. He rushed past me to her side. I got back in the car. For the rest of the journey, I could faintly hear Wyatt’s low voice, coaxing and reassuring Evanna. “There’s nothing between us.” “If you’re worried about me recovering my memories, I’d rather have amnesia forever.” … The weather was clear when we arrived at the Peak. At the entrance to the Quinn estate, I helped Mrs. Quinn out of the car. Just as I was about to follow her inside, Evanna’s voice rang out from behind me. “Speaking of which, I still don’t know who this young lady is. Is she allowed to come and go from the Quinn household as she pleases?” I paused and turned around. Evanna was clutching Wyatt’s sleeve, looking at me with undisguised resentment. Wyatt’s gaze was calm as he looked at his mother. “Mom, Evanna is right. I’m a married man now. It’s not appropriate to have other women coming and going freely.” Mrs. Quinn’s anger flared. She shot a sharp glance at Evanna. “And since when do I need your approval to decide who can and cannot enter my home?” Evanna’s face flushed. “That’s not what I meant… It’s just that Miss Caldwell clearly has feelings for Wyatt, and Wyatt has promised to love only one person for the rest of his life. I just don’t want to see her waste her time.” “It was my idea,” Wyatt added. “I have a family now. I shouldn’t be involved with people from a complicated past.” Twenty years of friendship, erased by amnesia, reduced to a “complicated past.” The irony was laughable. Wyatt truly hadn’t changed. He was fiercely devoted in his affections. As a boy, he had made me a solemn vow. “After we’re married, I will be completely devoted to you. I will never get involved with any other woman. I will never fail you.” But now, I was the “other woman” he was so desperate to distance himself from. Mrs. Quinn’s expression was grim. She was about to speak again, but I gently squeezed her hand. I turned and said calmly, “Mr. Quinn, you’re worrying for nothing. Our families have been friends for generations, and Mrs. Quinn has always treated me like a daughter. I only think of you as an older brother, and I respect Mrs. Quinn as I would my own mother.” Mrs. Quinn’s eyes reddened. She grasped my hand. “Alright. Today, I am officially making Autumn my goddaughter. From now on, anyone who bullies her will be making an enemy of the Quinn family.” Evanna’s eyes flashed with resentment, but Wyatt, upon hearing his mother’s words, seemed momentarily lost in thought. I paid it no mind. I accompanied Mrs. Quinn into the house and then made an excuse to return to my own family’s home. One problem was solved, but another remained. Seven years from now, my father would be framed for stock market manipulation by a once-trusted subordinate, a man who was currently a senior executive at our company. Ever since I woke up in this new life, I had been using my hacking skills to monitor him. Recently, I had finally detected suspicious activity. After gathering all the evidence, I took an encrypted hard drive to my father’s study. We talked late into the night. I laid out all the information I had on the traitor. My father, a veteran of the business world for decades, would not be caught off guard like he was in the last life. As for my marriage, my father sighed, his eyes filled with sorrow. “I never imagined that one international operation would lead to so much trouble. Since it’s come to this, there’s something I should tell you.” “Before you were born, your mother and her best friend arranged a marriage between you and her friend’s son. Later, when you grew up and fell in love with Wyatt, I politely declined their offer. We were in the wrong, really. The boy’s family is in San Francisco, a very good environment.” “Why don’t you… take this opportunity to go away for a while, clear your head?” Having lived one life already, I had seen through the illusions of marriage. I shook my head. “I don’t want to leave Crestview, and I don’t want a new relationship.” My father looked at me with concern. “Are you staying in Crestview because you still can’t let go? I know you’re a sentimental person. If you just say the word, I won’t let Wyatt get away with breaking the engagement.” I shook my head again. “I was the one who called it off. I’m over Wyatt.” My father sighed softly. “He’s not the only good man in the world. I just want you to be able to move on.” I gave a faint smile and changed the subject. “I heard you had some contact with a hypnotic investigation team from Southeast Asia years ago. I’d like to invite a few professionals to Crestview to look into Evanna Ross.” My father was taken aback. “You think there’s more to Wyatt’s change in behavior? Then you…” I looked up, my gaze steady. “Whether there is or not, I don’t care. This is just a precaution.” My father nodded. For the next half month, I lived a quiet life—coding, drinking coffee, and diving. It was a rare period of peace. Then, I received an invitation to a yacht party from the daughter of the Lu family. I had heard the rumors swirling during my seclusion: that I was heartbroken after being jilted, a recluse who couldn’t face the world. Now that I was rested, it was time to reappear. I gladly accepted the invitation. The party was a swirl of champagne and chatter. The other socialites treated me as they always had, but now there was a hint of pity in their eyes. When they saw my calm demeanor, that pity quickly turned to curiosity. “You have no idea. That Evanna girl is acting like the lady of the manor now. She’s the one who doesn’t know the rules, but she always acts like we’re the ones bullying her.” “Exactly! Last time, she accidentally spilled wine on my dress, and I didn’t even make a fuss. But she dragged Wyatt over to my house to apologize, making it seem like I was deliberately giving her a hard time.” “So petty. I don’t know how Wyatt puts up with her.” As they were talking, a figure dressed in the latest designer fashion walked in. The chatter immediately died down. I looked up. Evanna Ross, wearing a diamond hair clip and a lavish gown, had shed the rustic air of the tenements. She looked refined, almost elegant. I deliberately ignored her. Halfway through the party, I found an opportunity to leave, but she caught up with me on the deck. I stopped. “Is there something you need?” Evanna bit her lip. “Miss Caldwell, you’re still waiting for Wyatt, aren’t you?” I frowned. “Where did you hear such a ridiculous rumor?” “If you weren’t waiting for him, why haven’t you left Crestview? Why have you turned down all the marriage proposals you’ve received?” I was silent. Not leaving was, in a way, an obsession. Wyatt had died for me. I wanted to see with my own eyes if he would truly be content after getting his heart’s desire. My silence, however, was taken as an admission. Evanna pressed on, her voice sharp. “And my struggles in high society… you’re the one secretly telling people to target me, aren’t you?” “My marriage is my own business, and your situation has nothing to do with me,” I said calmly. “I admit, I didn’t like you from the moment I met you. But I wouldn’t stoop to targeting you. It was just a relationship. To me, it’s something I can take or leave.” From the moment I found Wyatt, I had decided that if he was in love with someone else, I would not interfere. But I had sensed something strange about Evanna. She was frail, yet she insisted that she alone had rescued Wyatt from a gunfight at the docks. She seemed vulnerable, yet she harbored an inexplicable hostility toward me, which was why I had been so insistent on restoring his memory in my past life. I understood now that whether Evanna was a good match for him or not, it was Wyatt’s choice. I had no right to intervene. But now, a flicker of a cunning smile crossed Evanna’s face. “Miss Caldwell, so you finally admit you hate me.” I sensed something was wrong. I started to step back, but I saw Evanna lean backward, her body going limp as she plunged into the cold sea.

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I am a homeroom teacher who has brought out three consecutive Valedictorians. One night, the parent of the top student in our class suddenly posted a few pages of a diary in the Parent-Teacher Facebook Group. [Class monitor explained the math problem to me, his logic is so clear, I admire him so much…] [He gave me an eraser with little stars on it, I will use it well.] Following were three 60-second voice messages in a row. “Everyone look, what is the grade’s top student thinking about every day?” “Full brain is all men oh!” “Everyday thinking about seducing men, what kind of cheap stuff is inside her head!” Parents in the group persuaded one after another to respect the child’s privacy. But next second, she directly posted a video in the group. … Chapter 1 At 10:30 PM, my phone vibrated crazily. The class group chat was suddenly spammed. [@Miss Parker, you come out for me!] [Why did Lily drop two points in this exam?!] [Is it you guys didn’t explain clearly? Or she simply didn’t study in school?] I was stunned. Lily is the student I admire most, has always been the unshakeable number one in the grade. I immediately typed to explain and comfort. [Hello Mrs. Baker, this exam’s overall difficulty is higher than last time, the grade average score has dropped.] [Lily is still number one in the grade, her performance is very stable, please don’t be anxious.] Next second, her words were like dynamite. [Don’t talk to me about average score! What does others’ score have to do with me?] I sighed, originally thought this was just a mother’s excessive anxiety about grades. Just wanted to comfort her, but Mrs. Baker suddenly threw out a few photos. It was an open diary, I recognized Lily’s neat handwriting on it. [Class monitor explained the math problem to me, his logic is so clear, I admire him so much…] [He gave me an eraser with little stars on it, I will use it well.] Following was a long voice message, tone sharp and piercing. [See that? This is the good student you guys thought, head full of these dirty, shameless things!] [Thinking about men all day long! Mind not on studying, no sense of shame! Heart holding these dirty things, no wonder grades dropped!] When seeing the diary, I was angry to trembling hands. These are the most normal thoughts, most normal feelings of a teenage girl. I immediately typed, tone tough. [@Mrs. Baker, please withdraw immediately! This is the child’s privacy, if you have questions please private message me!] Other parents in the group also persuaded. [Posting child’s diary in group, not too appropriate right…] Mrs. Baker retorted fiercely. [Not appropriate? Is it appropriate for her to write these shameless things?] [Diary counts as what privacy? When she came out of my stomach, why didn’t she say she wanted privacy?] Unreasonable! I immediately exited the group chat, dialed her phone. Phone was picked up, her sharp voice pierced through the receiver. “Miss Parker, your school atmosphere has problems, boys and girls mixing together every day!” “How hard is it for me to raise her alone, she actually has such cheap thoughts in school!” I suppressed my anger: “Lily is very good, you need to trust her.” “Trust? Don’t give me this useless talk!” She directly interrupted me, “I see it’s your loose management, or you took some benefits from those male students, helping to cover up right?” Her tone was vicious to the extreme. Not waiting for me to reply, the phone was hung up fiercely. I didn’t even recover from that vicious speculation, phone vibrated again. Mrs. Baker, posted a video in the class group. In the video, Lily wore an old school uniform washed to white, kneeling straight on the cold concrete floor. She lowered her head, using a voice without fluctuation, repeated over and over. “I was wrong, I shouldn’t score low, I shouldn’t think about men…” Outside the camera, was her mother’s malicious voice. “Say it yourself, this behavior of yours, shameless or not?” Lily’s expression numb, eyes empty, tightly scratching the seam of pant leg, tears sliding from eye corner. “…I am shameless.” In the video background, was cracked concrete floor, faded plastic stool, and a chipped enamel basin. My tears instantly came down. I finally understood why Lily always lowered her head in school, why never participated in any after-school activities, why uniform sleeves always pulled to the bottom. This video thoroughly detonated the parent group. [xx Mom: This is too excessive! How can treat child like this?!] [xx Dad: Mrs. Baker, education is not taught like this! Child has self-esteem!] But Mrs. Baker didn’t allow rebuttal, bit whoever she caught. Finally she @ that male parent who helped speak. [@xx Dad, why are you so excited?] [Did you fancy my Lily?] [Or this little slut also seduced you in school?] This bottomless, groundless rumor malicious speculation came out, the whole class group, instantly dead silent. No one dared to speak again. No one wants to provoke a mad dog. I only felt a bone-chilling cold rising from the soles of my feet. A mother, could actually use such dirty imagination, to publicly slander her own biological daughter. I trembled hands, repeatedly dialed Mrs. Baker’s phone, wanting to stop her behavior. No answer. After a few times, Mrs. Baker directly blocked my number. Huge absurdity and powerlessness, swallowed my whole person. Chapter 2 Monday morning, I stepped into the classroom. I saw many students intentionally or unintentionally sweeping the corner, with curiosity and sympathy. The storm stirred up in the class group over the weekend, ripples not yet settled. I looked at Lily worriedly. She wore a set of old school uniform washed to white, face pale, head buried very low. Her deskmate lowered voice to remind her. “Lily, today is Open House, Miss Parker said to wear white top, why didn’t you wear it?” I just walked to her side, hearing this, my heart thumped. Just wanted to say I have spare white T-shirts in my office, Lily spoke first. Lily’s shoulders shrank a bit, voice very small. “I told my mom yesterday… she said bring it before class.” My brows locked tight. If her mom is coming today, I must have a good talk with her. Open House is about to begin, in the back rows, visiting parents and other teachers took seats one after another. Lily’s body tensed tighter, she gripped the pen, but eyes glanced anxiously at the door from time to time. “Bang——!” The moment the class bell rang, the back door of the classroom was pushed open fiercely. Lily’s mother barged in. She clutched a yellowed old white shirt in her hand, looked around, walked straight to Lily’s desk. Sharp complaining voice resounded through the whole classroom. “You debt collector!” “Do you know how many people I begged to borrow this ragged shirt? I went out before dawn, knocking door to door!” “My old face is all lost! Just for you, do you know?” “You still don’t study hard, repay me well in the future!” Students were dumbfounded, parents and teachers in the back row locked brows, looking at each other. Lily’s face lost all color, head hung lower, wishing to drill into the ground on the spot. Mrs. Baker stuffed that white shirt into her arms. “Still dazing for what? Hurry put it on, don’t delay class!” Lily’s body trembled, whispered begging: “Mom, can I go to the restroom to change…” “Go what restroom?” Her mother’s volume suddenly rose: “Class bell rang, can study wait?” “Every second counts understand? Change right here, quick!” “You a little child, no ghost in heart, have what shameful? Ah? What you hiding? Fear what looking?” I quickly stepped forward, blocked in front of Lily, trying to use body to separate that suffocating gaze. “Mrs. Baker, please calm down, don’t affect class…” “Get out? Based on what I get out?” She pushed me away, strength surprisingly big, voice full of twisted desire to persuade. “Miss Parker, you are also a teacher, you say. Is so-called face important, or seizing time to study important? Ah?” “Let her say herself, is it she insisted on wearing white shirt? I satisfied her, what is she still dawdling for?” Lily’s tears swirled in eyes: “Mom, I beg you, I go out change, one minute is enough…” Mrs. Baker suddenly looked around, looked at the leaders in the back row, proudly said. “Must change here!” “I just want everyone to see, how my family Lily fights for every second!” “Let some spoiled, mind floating students see, what is the look a student should have!” Voice not fallen, Lily closed eyes in despair, she trembled hands picking up the shirt, trying to put it on over the uniform. But the shirt was too tight, her movements clumsy and difficult. Mrs. Baker raged again, caught off guard, a slap fiercely hit on Lily’s face. “Idiot! Why pull so hard?” “This clothes is I borrowed, you stretch it deformed, what I use to return people?” “You have no gratitude in heart! You don’t heartache me, also don’t heartache other’s things?” Finished, she grabbed Lily’s uniform with both hands, savagely lifted up. “Take off uniform, wear shirt directly! Quick!” Students faces all shock and discomfort, one by one lowered heads, chose not to look. Class monitor clenched fists, stood up, but was pulled tight by his deskmate. “Mrs. Baker, you stop!” I could no longer maintain calm, dead grabbed her arm: “You can’t do this, this is a classroom!” Mrs. Baker’s expression suddenly sank, mouth corners down glaring at me. “I change clothes for my daughter violate which law?” I angrily shouted back. “Lily is already big, she needs respect!” “Teenager kid understand what respect, grades are the biggest respect!” “Can’t test into good high school, looked down by people for a lifetime——” Finished, she fiercely threw away my hand, I stumbled hit the table corner beside. And Mrs. Baker used force with both hands, directly tore off the thin uniform on Lily! My brain buzzed. Too late to react waist hit painful, I hugged the girl, quickly put that shirt on her, blocked all sight. Lily motionless, let me manipulate. She didn’t cry, didn’t scream. In extreme shame, expression was total despair and numbness, only silent trembling. In the classroom, filled with strong unbearableness. Parents and leaders in back row some shook heads, some showed disgust and helplessness. Done all this, Lily’s mother tidied her messy hair. She walked to the leader side, sat down in empty seat self-righteously, fawning smiled. “Leaders, laughed at, child not sensible.” “Now conditions too good, move not move talk about dignity. When we were young where care this? I do this all for her good.” Chapter 3 Open House just ended, I immediately chased out, stopped her in the corridor. “Mrs. Baker, please stay.” I took a deep breath, forced down anger in heart. “We must talk, I think your education method treating Lily, I feel has big problem.” Mrs. Baker turned around, arms crossed, mouth corner pulled out cold sneer. “My method has problem?” “If not you there fake benevolence blocking, my daughter early wore clothes sat well!” She stepped forward, aggressive. “Open House, how important face showing chance, just like this ruined by you! Do you know how big impact on my daughter?” I simply about to be laughed by this black white reversed logic. “No matter out of what reason, child is independent individual, she also has dignity and privacy…” My words seemed to ignite her, her voice instantly sharp piercing. This movement, made other classes also look over through window. “I raised her so big, provide her study, she has to listen to me! Don’t say change clothes in public——” “Even I strip her naked let her kneel in school, you also can’t manage!” Her eyes vicious, looking at my face becoming stiff, seemed very satisfied. Reasoning with a madman is useless. I gave up arguing, changed a way, tried to make tone gentle. “Mrs. Baker, we don’t talk right or wrong. I just want to say, recently Lily’s state not too good. Have you thought, child might have depression tendency, you…” “Depression?!” These words like stepped on her tail, she instantly exploded, voice suddenly rose high. “Bullsh*t! Miss Parker who you cursing?” She came up pull my hair: “My daughter very good! Grade first depression what?” “I see is you self psychology dark, life unfortunate, can’t see us mother daughter good!” I grabbed her wrist, forced myself keep calm, insist my stand. “If really has psychological problem, early find early intervene is good thing. Can go see psychologist…” “Psychologist? Pah!” She roughly interrupted me, spit on my face, face full of disdain. “What depression, all western spread poison thought! We childhood who not beaten big? How didn’t see so many diseases!” “All idle out diseases, is excuse trash find for themselves!” Suddenly, she looked at me with venomous eyes, made my hair stand on end. “If my daughter really has any problem——” “That is also you this kind teacher, everyday instill her what self, dignity trash thoughts!” Voice not fallen, she fiercely hit my shoulder, squeezed past me. Shoulder hit painful, but more heavy is that giant stone in heart. I thoroughly understood, with this woman, simply unable communicate. Before I thought she was ignorant. No. She is very sober, she knows her behavior will make Lily embarrassed. But still did so. Chapter 4 After Open House day, Lily’s soul like pumped away. In class her eyes unfocused. When roll call she stood up like electric shock, lips trembling, couldn’t say a word. Her face paler day by day. Until that day break, I saw her back neck collar exposed a patch of deep purple bruise. My heart fiercely sank. A bad premonition spread in heart. I must go to her home look, personal eyes see exactly what environment she lives in. I applied for formal Home Visit to school. Lily’s home is in an old community. Mrs. Baker opened door seeing me, face instantly sank, raised hand want close door. I hurriedly blocked: “Mrs. Baker, I come to report good news!” “School has a city speech contest, Lily very likely win prize, prize money has $1,500!” Her eyes from vigilant to suspicious, hearing $1,500 prize money, eyes became greedy. Living room narrow dim, table still set with bowls and chopsticks. Lily was lowering head, bowl was piled with greasy meat slices. Mrs. Baker glanced at her, suddenly knocked her head with chopsticks. “Look what look? Eat all. Can’t test into good high school, is because your picky fault!” Wait Lily finished eating, we walked into the room. Narrow space set two beds, Lily and her mom live in one room. Closet covered by a cloth curtain, all drawers not locked, glance all view. I closed door, softly asked her: “Lily, recently pressure too big?” Lily didn’t speak, tears fell first. I heartachingly walked over, gently rolled up her wide uniform sleeves. Shocking sight. New old overlapped scars, have blue purple bruises, also have just left not long, burning red swelling. “Lily, these wounds… how matter?” Her body uncontrollably trembled. I said nothing, just heartachingly hugged her into arms. Lily long suppressed emotion finally burst in my arms: “Miss Parker… is my mom beat.” My heart suddenly tightened: “She… always treat you like this?” Lily’s tears rolling down, face was a miserable smile uglier than crying. “Exam didn’t get full score, grades dropped, all deserve beat.” She stroked a new wound on arm, voice numb. “Yesterday night sleeping, I… my breathing sound too heavy, she said I was sighing, complaining her. She used data cable, stroke by stroke whip on my body.” I dead hugged her trembling body, lowered voice, but incomparable firm. “Don’t fear, this is abuse! Teacher will help you, you must leave this environment…” Lily however in my arms despair shaking head. “How help? She is mom ah…” She repeated, like convincing me, also like convincing herself. “She is my mom ah…” “Bang——!” Suddenly, room door was fiercely kicked open!

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Fifth year after being Blacklisted by Julian, I met him in a Bar. He spent thousands, celebrating his “The One That Got Away”, Scarlett, winning the Best Actress Award. And I was here as a Bottle Service Girl. He found me, asked me to come over and drink with them. “Left me, result is being a hostess, thought you had so much guts.” “Julian, don’t say Sister Serena like this, she changed from a big star to a hostess, think about it also not easy, give more tips later.” Scarlett hooked Julian’s arm, proud curves on chest tightly pressed against his arm. Julian leaned back, legs casually rested on the table. “Don’t, people have high integrity, how can look up to others’ charity, tips definitely want to earn by herself ah, right Big Star Serena.” He pointed at that row of alcohol on the table, eyes dark. This bit of verbal humiliation to current me counts as nothing, Lily still waiting for money to save life. I smiled shallowly, “Mr. Julian said right, earning money is not shabby.” Voice fell, I didn’t say second word, drank up that row of alcohol on the table. Then took out Venmo QR code, “Many thanks Mr. Julian.” … Chapter 1 “Panic what, so many people in private room, you accompany well money won’t lack yours.” Originally noisy private room, because Julian’s one sentence became quiet for a moment. Those people’s faces besides disbelief and schadenfreude, still vaguely revealed some expectation. Once I was a top trending star, Julian was just a poor boy whose family went bankrupt and just started business. These people in private room who started business with him, put in past don’t say drink with me, even see me was hard. Because followed right person, now everyone worth a lot. Now they sit on high platform, I fall into dust, naturally no half respect to me. A hand quietly climbed on my waist, accompanied by a pull, I was dragged onto sofa, look closely beside is a wretched face. “Miss Serena, I request not much, just drink a cup of cross-cupped wine.” Voice just fell, “Bang” a sound, wine glass by Julian hand fell ground. Scattered wine, and glass shards, under light refraction reflected his fragmented shadow. Such occasion I see everyday not thousand times also hundred times. As long as not too excessive, for money I choose endure. I ignored this small episode, calmly lifted man’s hand on my waist, stuffed a glass of wine, then smilingly drank cross-cupped wine with man. Crowd seeing situation started jeering, Julian’s face however gloomy down. Scarlett frowned said: “Sister Serena, past anyhow followed Julian, you earn this kind dirty money, not afraid lose Julian’s face.” I faintly smiled, again picked up a new glass of wine. “I am accompanying drink, not accompanying sleep, nothing dirty.” “Past accompany brand side, investors drink, now accompany customers drink, essentially no difference.” “If Miss Scarlett needs, I can also accompany you drink.” Scarlett choked by my words, angry eyes staring at me. “Serena you a hostess also dare yin yang me.” Slap a sound, a loud slap fell on my face. Burning pain hit, I light laughed, “Miss Scarlett, this is another price, remember add price later.” I didn’t care crowd reaction, in everyone surprised eyes, one cup after another almost drank with everyone in private room once, left one person time, stomach started uncontrollably cramping pain. Face just now red because slap gradually became pale, cold sweat on forehead. Hand holding wine started weak powerless, but I haven’t finished, money haven’t got hand, I force support came to last person Preston front. He is Julian’s childhood friend, also that thorn in me and Julian heart. Wine glass sent to mouth blocked by him, Preston eyes gloomy. “Enough Julian, can’t you see Serena already very uncomfortable?” Julian still lay on chair, gaze switch back and forth on me and Preston, full eyes disdain and disgust. “Tsk tsk tsk, should I praise Sister Serena charm infinite ne, or praise President Preston long affection ne?” Scarlett spoke first. “Five years ago, you guys behind Julian cheated, even made a bastard, now preparing continue fate?” That was a night I full heart joy preparing wedding with Julian. Because too many things bit tired, just muddleheaded slept. Wake up again time, I naked slept with Preston together. I scared whole body hair stood up, heart beat fast like want break ribs. Last night memory like lost, how also can’t remember. I hurriedly get up want wear clothes find Julian. Lift eyes but hit a pair eyes wrapped full anger, Julian just stood at door looking me. I want explain, open mouth but don’t know say what, throat dry can’t make sound. “Roll.” Faint one word to me seem have thousand pounds heavy, grievance and tears no longer can hold. After near two months Julian didn’t see me, threw me in south city villa, confiscated my phone, also not allow me see him. I couldn’t stand such coldness, so ran to that apartment nearest company find him. When he work busy would live there, I wanted find him say clear, even if he want break up with me also okay. I but saw him and Scarlett enter out together. That moment my heart like knife twist, we together ten years, just because a not yet verified mistake, he threw into others embrace. Maybe his heart never forgot Scarlett, back then if not Scarlett went abroad, he might not make do with me. I heart gray cold packing own things, bumped into Julian come back take document midway. “You still want separate with me?” He slapped document in hand on table, loud shouted at me, that was first time he threw fire at me in memory. “You have what face separate with me, want separate also I say!” My hand pinching bag stop not shaking, heart like blocked a stone, let me can’t breathe also stab me pain. “Julian, I also don’t know why that thing happened, I really didn’t betray you.” He light hum, picked up that document want go, I cry shout step forward hug him. “Julian we talk, I really didn’t, can you…” He ruthless threw me away, foot unstable, a burst dizziness hit, I fainted. Wake up again I was in hospital bed. Open eyes, first sentence he said was, “Abort the child.” I then react, surprise and helpless touched flat lower abdomen. “Miss Serena uterus has cyst, if this child aborted, future might not have way want child, you guys want consider clear.” Doctor added aside. I knew Julian meaning, he felt this child is Preston’s. Although I can’t remember what happened that night, but maybe woman intuition, I felt child in belly is Julian’s. So I pulled his hand beg said: “Julian, just let me give birth to this child okay.” “If it not yours, I will self watch do.” “And doctor said, this might be my only child.” “Okay not okay, count I beg you.” Julian abnormal cold, disgust pulled away own hand, look me eyes like look dead thing. “Child impossible be mine, so… abort.” “No discussion.” Dropped this sentence, he then left. I lay in hospital bed one day, finally still decided give birth to child. So I hid from Julian left Los Angeles. Ten months later I had a cute daughter, eyebrows eyes extremely like Julian, I full heart joy took daughter go back find him. But forgot, before I left he already with Scarlett together. Two people sweet enter out pair, we already two worlds people. Just want leave, Scarlett found me. “Serena?” Julian followed her voice look over, gaze carried scrutiny, disgust even hate. “You still dare come, still bring your bastard.” Julian raised eyebrow, “Back then left so decisive, now come back do what.” “What, he even own child not care, you can’t raise want let me be pick-up man?” I force endure sadness, walked forward two steps. “Julian, you look this child, she and you…” “Take your bastard far away.” Scarlett pushed me away, “Really treat Julian as fool?” Julian knit brows, “Throw your this bastard, I then let you come back, otherwise don’t think step into my Jiang family one step.” I looked his cold face, suddenly understood, me and him already can’t go back. “I don’t need your charity.” I held daughter resolutely left. Anyway I alone also can raise child well. “Serena, you for this bastard do to this step, you don’t regret.” But very fast I was ruthlessly slapped face by reality. Work already stagnated one year because birth, because various gossip news, and Julian operation snow on frost. Overwhelming marketing accounts talking about me and Preston matter. A time I became bitch seducing brother, everyone shout beat. All work completely pause, agency cancel contract with me. Hard easy have capital look on past affection willing pull me a hand, but at about sign contract, learned someone let words, in entertainment circle, if someone dare give me work, that is against Julian Group. I didn’t expect Julian hate me so much. Entertainment circle can’t mix, I just find other work. When Julian just start business, I occasionally also went company help, many things are interlinked. So I found a normal enterprise enter. Although not earn much as before, but days count stable. Originally thought life just calm go on like this, change happened at company I work had cooperation with Julian Group. Project start second day, I was notified, company want fire me. From then on, no matter which company I go, always stay not two months will be fired. I knew this is Julian revenge. I don’t want compromise, but Julian Group long not past small company, now in Los Angeles can say is thumb one, in industry no one willing offend. I had to find a restaurant serve waiter. Days although bitter, but daughter day by day grow up, my inner heart also by these ordinary happiness fill bit by bit. Pity heaven love joke with me, two years ago, Lily got Leukemia. Bone marrow transplant is a big sum money, I can’t take out. No road to go under I even thought go find Preston, but I can’t contact him, inquire then know after that matter he was sent abroad by Julian, never came back. Lily everyday fee let me unbearable heavy burden, come money fast and legal way I can think only bottle service. Rely on ex movie star identity, accompany drink earn not less, just for Lily medical fee also cup water cart wood. Good thing Lily luck good, already found matched bone marrow. Now just lack last forty thousand then enough give Lily do surgery. So I day night drink wine, this moment even Scarlett want me kneel to her I don’t bring hesitate. Let alone her few sentences verbal humiliation. Thoughts return cage, I force endure stomach pain, accompany smile face, drink down last glass wine. “Mr. Julian, Miss Scarlett, don’t know you guys still satisfied?” “Wine I already drank finish, please settle money ba.” Saying I again extended Venmo QR code. Julian face ugly, open phone action a pause. “I dislike dirty, find my assistant settle bill ba.” Voice fall, he get up just leave still force pull away Preston. Others also followed left, very fast noisy private room only left me one person. Stomach pain let me almost stand not stable, I curled on sofa, pain faint pass. Wake me is manager, “Later no need come, offend who not good bias offend Mr. Julian.” Such scene I familiar no more, but this time I can’t compromise, lose income Lily illness what do! “Manager, can give me another chance, next time Mr. Julian they come not appear, won’t let them find, beg you.” Manager merciless, “Beg me also no use, who dare offend Mr. Julian, not leave I just let people throw you out.” Helpless can only leave. Not walk few steps, received hospital urge me pay money call. “Lily Mom, surgery money you prepare good ma? Pass today still not pay, then Lily surgery want arrange backward, patients arrange behind already start complain, just like this words, again don’t know want wait till when have matched bone marrow, Lily situation not optimistic, anytime have life danger, still want asap surgery good.” “Knew, I today within definitely will gather.” Hang up phone, I first went find Preston. I admit I some shameless, this originally not his responsibility, but I really no way. Pity this time I still can’t contact him, last night when he taken by Julian I should thought. Julian still hate me, naturally don’t want I earn money, otherwise won’t let bar fire me, more won’t even promised accompany drink money not pay. Walk no road, I had to drag pain body run to that apartment, go find Julian, go beg him. He charity me fine, humiliate me fine, I must from him there want money. Now person can save daughter only him. I wait at apartment door, but only waited come Scarlett. “Serena, you come do what?” “Yesterday money haven’t settle, Miss Scarlett can give me ma?” Look at my humble look, Scarlett finally not act. “Hahaha,” she laughed rampant, “Serena ah Serena you also have today.” “You still don’t know right, actually that day you and Preston nothing happened, is I gave you guys drugged, see you now so miserable, also not waste I back then painstaking plan a scene.” That time I heart also suspected, but I no evidence. “Why?” “Me and Julian childhood sweethearts, just because your appearance he actually didn’t wait me, you say you deserve die not.” “Rob things with me people no good ending, I gave you chance, five years ago I just use Preston let you roll away from Julian side, now you since still want come entangle, then I let you see you and your that bastard how die.” Voice fall, she gave herself a slap, then turn body hit on wall, forehead seep blood color, then step forward pull my hand, I haven’t react, she just fall on ground. I then understand she want do what, Julian just came. “Serena! You doing what.” I coldly look he face full worry look, “Mr. Julian, can settle yesterday money ma?” “Or, you don’t want settle, can borrow me ma? I now really need money.” “As long as you willing give me money, you let me do what I all agree you.” Julian light hum, “You think you who, have what is worth me pay money?” I kneel on ground hug his leg like beggar, beg him. “Julian I beg you, I really need this sum money, my daughter…” Scarlett see situation, delicate voice interrupt me, “Julian, I so uncomfortable, you first send me go hospital okay.” Julian glance me, didn’t say what again, took Scarlett left. I look his gradual disappear back, heart like dead ash. Chapter 3 I flip open phone, try find a person can borrow money from inside. But I flip through contacts, find no one can find. These years I took Lily alone live, also made few friends, but finally don’t know why finally all lost contact. Later I then knew this is also Julian instruction. Gradually I side also no what friends. I thought take daughter go other city live, but Los Angeles has best medical condition, especially target Lily illness, in domestic research all walk in front. For daughter, I do what all willing. Fingertip slide to a remark called Wang Nan. Is a middle age real estate developer from outland, over fifty widower. Before come bar time hinted me, if willing follow him, then buy me house buy car. I didn’t plan use body go change money, I think future Lily grow up if know own mom is what kind, she will sad. But this moment, I seem no better road can walk. Future she sad, also always better than no life strong. Hesitate again and again, I pressed dial key. Appointed with him in hotel, right on way rushing past, again received hospital call. “Lily Mom, Lily enter emergency room, you come a bit.” Hear words, I crazy like rush to hospital. When I arrive, Lily just come out from emergency room. Small face pale no blood color, small one lie on sickbed. I reach hand go pull her still warm small hand, but can’t hold, small hand slide away from my palm. I panic hands grab her, question doctor, “What happen, Lily this is asleep? Or anesthesia not wake? Why not put instrument on her.” Doctor helpless pat my shoulder, “Lily Mom, restrain grief.” I don’t believe doctor words, how can? My Lily how can just go like this, she still said wait get better want go amusement park with me. She is most strong child, so small age, every time do chemotherapy even a sentence pain not shout. Impossible, Lily won’t leave me. I hug her small soft body, but never get a trace response. Doctor light sigh, “Lily very good, before enter emergency room, still said with you some, I let nurse record down, already sent your WeChat.” I tremble tremble open WeChat, click that voice message. “Mom… Lily not pain, just miss Mom.” “Wait this time out, Mom then always accompany Lily okay… not okay.” This moment, that tender voice like that sharp small knife, bit by bit slice me. I finally couldn’t help lose voice pain cry. “Sorry Lily, all Mom useless.” “Mom accompany you, lifetime accompany you.” Whole person like pumped dry soul, muddleheaded passed few days. I used remaining money, made daughter ash into Memorial Diamond necklace. Like this I can accompany her lifetime. I return rental room, wait get necklace then leave this place, this destroyed me also destroyed Lily place. I received a stranger call. “Not lack money ma?” “Come apartment take.” Hear this impatient tone, I then react is Julian. I no strength say what with him, I now also don’t need money, so direct hung up phone. Behind few days also successive have stranger call come in, but I one didn’t answer. This day, institution notify me, say necklace done. I first put luggage to airport storage, then rush institution go take necklace. That diamond not big, but very shiny. Hold in hand that moment, inexplicable peace. On way rushing to airport, I met Wang Nan. “Miss Serena, stand people up not authentic.” “Sorry, home had point matter, is I impulsive, we between still…” Voice not fall, he then lean forward come, broad body almost cover me. “You let me bitter wait one night, you just give me this bit explanation, say not past ba.” I low drop head, “President Wang really sorry, but we really not suitable.” “I still have thing just go first.” Wang Nan drag me, “Stinky bitch, pretend what high noble, you think you still before Serena ma, follow me is I look up you.” “Yo, this is where come diamond necklace, could it be you hook up other sugar daddy?” Saying he snatch necklace in my hand. I take out phone, angry voice: “Return necklace me, otherwise I call police.” “Here everywhere monitor, if you don’t want your daughter know dad is a harasser words, then stay far from me.” Wang Nan stunned, I hurry take necklace back from his hand. Turn head but saw a familiar face——Julian. He big step walk to me, “Phone not answer, text not reply, this is your attitude beg people?” “Also, you this found new sugar daddy, think come is not lack money.” He towards Wang Nan direction disdain look once. Immediately again scrutiny necklace in my hand. “Your taste also too bad, this kind goods all look up, before follow me time, this kind diamond when enter your eye.” I finally didn’t hold heart bottom anger, step forward gave him a slap. “Slap” a sound, surrounding all follow quiet. Julian disbelief look me, eyes weird. “Serena, I give you face right.” He hands press my shoulder, like want crush me general. “Roll, I don’t want see you again.” Julian frown, want ask clear but interrupted by a phone call. I take advantage he answer phone time hurry left this place, taxi went airport. Finally can leave here. I last look window outside Los Angeles, pull down shade. I came Seattle, daughter sick time said want come place. Pity that time she can only stay in hospital, now good, she finally can look expect inside Seattle. I casual rent a small yard, just settle down, by a group stranger find door. Lead is a man a woman, I open door they just splash a bottle water on my face. “Shameless mistress, actually dare interfere my sister feeling.” “You also not look look you count what thing.” I start haven’t react, but see this group people body wear all Scarlett support clothes, I just understand how matter. “You guys this is private intrude home, as long as I a phone call, can let you guys in, that time I again post Weibo, you say your sister opponent see, will or not give me free promote.” They stunned, look each other. Suddenly one person high voice said: “This all we self can’t watch down, concern our sister what matter.” “Again say you a mistress, even if whole net know, lose face is also you.” “But as long as you apologize, we can consider let go you.” I cold snort, “I didn’t do wrong, won’t apologize.” A fan click open Weibo, is Scarlett a imply meaning Weibo. Inside video picture, just right is Julian press my shoulder. “You want face or not, with others boyfriend pull pull tear tear.” They more say more excited, start pull tear me. I want call police, phone but snatched, they press me kneel on ground, record video for me. Finally still come find me landlord see this scene called police. Among them except those two lead, most are minors. I look these kids, thought of my daughter. No heart pursue them what, signed understanding letter. And I know, this matter true culprit, is Scarlett hide behind fans. I all left Los Angeles, she still grab not let go, then don’t blame me ruthless. Anyway now Lily not here, I nothing afraid. That night I open many years unused Weibo main account, organized me and Julian between bits and drops, and Scarlett appear time point. Not out expect, this Weibo very fast explode. A time about me and Scarlett good few tags, instant occupy list top five. My comment area also rare appeared start speak for me people. Very fast public opinion then start judge her. After all she such a topic degree artist, every move all under everyone watch. Most people just want watch her fall altar, not care truth. So heat degree stay high not down. Just like back then me. Just this time, I say all facts, also stand netizens deep dig.

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