Category: English

For six months, I was away on business. Six months, while my fiancé, Ethan, moved into our new home all by himself. He’d even send me a token $50 each month, a little joke he called “rent for my wifey.” It was all cute and games until his Instagram stories shifted from solo dinners to beautifully plated meals for two. A friend texted me, laughing, You better get back there before someone poaches him! I just laughed it off. But the comment stuck with me. So, I booked a flight, planning to surprise him for his birthday. But now, standing in front of our new apartment, the keypad code was stubbornly, repeatedly wrong. I was just about to call him when the door swung open. A young woman stood there, wearing an apron and holding a spatula. She frowned, looking me up and down, before a saccharine smile spread across her face. “Oh, honey, I think you have the wrong place. This is my home.” 1 I froze for a second, my apology automatic. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I must be on the wrong floor.” “No worries,” she chirped, her voice dripping with false sweetness. “Just be more careful next time, sweetie. You wouldn’t want to walk into the wrong home again.” She called me “sweetie” one more time before shutting the door in my face. I looked up. The plaque on the door clearly read 1015. This was it. The spacious downtown apartment Ethan and I had bought together. We hadn’t even had a housewarming party before my work trip pulled me away for half a year. But I was the one who oversaw the entire renovation. I’d been here countless times. I knew I wasn’t mistaken. I pulled out my phone and dialed Ethan, my voice sharp. “Ethan, did you change the code to the apartment? And why is there a woman living here?” His voice on the other end was choppy, full of static. Just then, the elevator dinged open, and there he was, juggling grocery bags. “Zoe, the signal’s terrible here. I’ll call you back later.” He hung up without a second thought, then looked up and saw me. Our eyes locked. “There you are, Ethan!” The door to our apartment opened again, and the young woman bounced out, her voice a playful whine. “You were taking forever! I heard the elevator and came right out to get the door. See how much I care about you?” I hadn’t eaten all day, rushing back here on an empty stomach. A bitter, acidic pain churned in my gut. “Ethan,” I said, my voice dripping with ice, “you had better have a very good explanation.” 2 “Oh my gosh, Zoe! I’m so sorry, I didn’t recognize you earlier!” The woman, whose name I would learn was Amber, clasped her hands together in a theatrical plea for forgiveness. Ethan dumped the groceries in the kitchen and cleared his throat, his expression a mask of awkwardness. “Zoe, I didn’t know you were coming back early, I forgot to tell you. This is Amber, she’s an intern at my company. You know how it is, the internship is six months, and they’re on a shoestring salary. She’s from out of town, no place to stay. After paying for a room, she’d have no money left for food. I found her crashing at her desk a few times. I’m her supervisor, I felt sorry for her, so I decided to rent the spare room to her temporarily.” Amber, who had started setting up a hot pot on the dining table, stuck her tongue out playfully. “It’s true! Ethan’s been a lifesaver. If it weren’t for him, I’d be sleeping on the street. Please don’t be mad at him, Zoe. Look, to repay his kindness, I was just about to celebrate his birthday for you! But I’m totally useless in the kitchen, and I couldn’t let the birthday boy cook for himself, so I figured a hot pot would be a nice treat. You’re back just in time! You can join us.” Amber couldn’t have been long out of college, radiating a bubbly, almost naive energy. But I heard the boast in her words loud and clear. She couldn’t cook, which meant Ethan had been cooking for her. She was celebrating Ethan’s birthday for me. Was she trying to audition for the role of my replacement? Ethan and I met in college. He pursued me for three years before I finally said yes. We’d done everything by the book: dating, the proposal, even setting the wedding date. Our parents had helped us buy this very apartment. And now, he was pulling this stunt? 3 “Oh, Zoe, we only have guest plates and chopsticks. You don’t mind, do you?” Amber arranged a set of matching, ‘his and hers’ bowls for herself and Ethan, then shot me a bright smile before waltzing into the kitchen to help him wash vegetables. Their laughter and playful banter drifted out, painting a perfect picture of a happy young couple. And there I was, a stranger in my own home, perched awkwardly at the edge of my own dining table. The sight of the bubbling pot made my stomach churn. I had no appetite. “Ethan, you said you’re renting to her,” I said, my voice cutting through the cozy kitchen scene. “Where’s the lease agreement?” Ethan’s brow furrowed in annoyance. “Zoe, it was just a formality to help her out. We didn’t need to sign a contract.” “Right,” I scoffed. “And the rent?” “Amber transferred it to me. I can send it to you if you want. But honestly, she’s been looking after the place while you were gone. If anything, we should be paying her a maintenance fee.” I almost laughed out loud at his audacity. Amber chimed in, twisting a strand of her hair. “So, should I start sending the rent to you now, Zoe? Ethan was so considerate, he knew I was broke, so he only charged me $50 a month. I haven’t even paid this month’s yet. Here, you can add me on Venmo, I’ll send it to you right now.” She held her phone out, her bright eyes fixed on mine, glittering with an unmistakable challenge. “$50?” I stood up, my gaze locking onto Ethan’s suddenly evasive face. The anger I’d been suppressing boiled over. “This is a 1,800-square-foot luxury apartment in the heart of downtown, a few minutes’ walk from your office. A place like this rents for at least five grand a month, and you’re letting her stay for fifty bucks? Ethan, are you renting out a room, or are you renting her?” He flushed, a mix of shame and anger. “Zoe! It’s my birthday! Did you come back to celebrate with me or to start a fight? There is nothing going on between Amber and me. She’s my subordinate. What’s wrong with helping her out? Why are you so jealous? A dirty mind sees dirt everywhere.” 4 Being attacked like that was the last straw. “This isn’t just any apartment, Ethan!” I shot back, my voice shaking with rage. “This is our marital home! We’re not even married yet, and you’re already renting it out. What, are you having second thoughts about the wedding?” His face went pale, and his tone softened. “No, of course not, Zoe. It’s not a big deal. I’ll ask Amber to move out before the wedding.” Meow. A soft sound made me look down. A small tabby cat was rubbing against Amber’s slender legs. She scooped it up, cooing, “Oh, my sweet baby.” Then she turned to Ethan, her eyes welling up with tears. “Ethan… we found this little guy on the street together. He finally has a home. We’re both so used to it here. After you get married… does that mean we’ll be homeless again?” The two of them, the girl and the cat, looked like a portrait of pitiful abandonment. Ethan’s jaw tightened. He looked at me, his voice strained. “Zoe, it feels cruel to just kick them out like this. Maybe… maybe we could postpone the wedding for a little while? Just until Amber finishes her internship and saves up enough to find a place nearby?” It felt like I’d been hit over the head. The man standing in front of me was a complete stranger. For an intern and a stray cat, he was willing to rent out our home for pennies. And now he wanted to postpone our wedding? It all clicked. Three months ago, I’d called him late one night, around 9 PM, just missing him after a long day at work. I could hear the sound of a running shower, and he told me he was in the middle of one. But over the water, I’d heard a distinct meow. I asked him when he got a cat. Back when we were together, I had wanted a dog, but he claimed he was allergic to pet dander, so I’d dropped it. He’d insisted I was hearing things and rushed off the phone. The pieces clicked into place with a sickening dread. The cat was already here three months ago. Which meant she was already here three months ago. He wasn’t allergic to pet dander. He was just allergic to me getting a dog. A wave of nausea washed over me. The very sight of him made me sick. 5 “Ethan, you want to postpone our wedding… for an intern and a cat?” I pulled out my phone and opened my contacts. “Fine. You want to postpone? You can call my parents and your parents right now and explain why. If you have the guts to tell them the real reason, I’ll do more than postpone. We can call the whole thing off.” Ethan’s face was a mess of conflict. He didn’t dare take the phone. He’d spoken impulsively, moved by Amber’s crocodile tears, but he knew he couldn’t actually go through with it. Forget my parents; his own would skin him alive. “Oh, no… it’s all my fault,” Amber sobbed, seeing Ethan’s resolve crumble. “It’s me and the cat. We’re causing all this trouble for you. We’ll leave right now.” She dramatically scooped up the cat and made for the door. “Wait, Amber!” Ethan rushed after her, grabbing her from behind. “You don’t know anyone in this city! Where would you even go?” “But… but I don’t want you to fight with Zoe because of me,” she whimpered into his chest. “Amber, you’re just too sweet, too considerate. That’s why people take advantage of you,” he said, stroking her hair. He then turned to me, his voice firm. “Zoe, let’s both take a step back. What if we just rent another apartment nearby to use as our marital home?” I snatched my water glass off the table and hurled its contents at the two of them. “Ah! Zoe, you’ve gone too far!” Ethan shielded Amber from the water, glaring at me as if I were the one trying to tear them apart. “Are you insane, Ethan?” I screamed. “We bought this apartment! Who in their right mind buys a home and then goes and rents a different one to get married in? Did you leave your brain at the office? If you’re so desperate to live with your little intern, then you can go rent her a damn apartment yourself! Stop freeloading in my house, you shameless piece of trash!” I guess he thought my claws had been permanently retracted. He was wrong. “What are you talking about, living together? We’re not!” he stammered, still trying to deny it. Amber, her damsel-in-distress act vanishing, glared at me. “You know, Zoe, I shouldn’t say this, but you and Ethan aren’t actually married yet. His family bought him this apartment as a wedding gift. He has every right to do what he wants with it. If you keep acting like a shrew, you might just find yourself without a fiancé or a place to live.” Her defiant words struck me like lightning. It all made sense now. A glance at Ethan’s guilty face made me laugh, a cold, sharp sound. “Wait a second. You seem to have one very important detail wrong. Who ever told you his family bought this place…”

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I broke up with my boyfriend the year he was the most broke. A year later, he was a star, married to a girl prettier and more vibrant than I ever was. During a TV special, the host asked him, “You’ve swept the awards at such a young age. Do you have any regrets?” He pulled his wife, Stella, closer, his arm around her waist. “I’d just like to know,” he said, his voice smooth as silk, “how she’s doing now. After we broke up.” The host paused. “She’s… not doing well at all.” A slow, satisfied smile spread across Oren Pearce’s face. “Good. That sets my mind at ease.” “But… Ms. Nolan left behind a box of tapes before she died.” Oren’s smile froze. On the tapes were the days and nights of my life, from the moment I left him until the moment I died. 1 “Before she died?” Oren’s hand, resting on Stella’s waist, tightened for a fraction of a second. Then he let out a short, contemptuous laugh. “Is this part of the show? Some kind of gimmick?” The host simply shook his head. On the massive screen behind them, my face appeared. My smile. “Hey everyone, it’s Quinn! And as of today, I’m officially single!” The girl on the screen—her head shaved clean—was trying on a wig. “What’s that? You’re asking if I’m sad about dumping the sweet, handsome guy with a future brighter than the sun?” She looked at the camera and grinned. “Nah. What would be sad is him seeing me like this. Hahaha!” “Hey, why are you shaking? You’re making the shot all wobbly.” In the video, I reached out and steadied my best friend Tessa’s trembling hand. Tessa’s voice cracked. “I don’t want to do this… I’m going to cry my eyes out. I can’t film this…” “No way. You promised. You promised you’d document every single day until I’m gone.” “Can’t I back out?” Tessa pleaded, her voice thick with tears. “Nope!” I pouted. “My grand finale deserves the best director. I can’t trust anyone else with it.” Seeing she was still crying, I tugged at the corner of her shirt. “Come on, Tess. You’re all I have left in this world.” That only made her sob harder. “Fine, fine! I’ll film, okay? Just… stop.” 2 [So Long, World – April 17, 2023, 9:34 AM — You Can Take It All] After so many years, I was back at the old family house in the countryside. Tessa trailed behind me, phone in hand, as I walked our old golden retriever, Buddy, down a dirt path between fields. Her light laughter drifted on the breeze. “I was wondering why Oren suddenly posted that song on his story. It’s because you took Buddy, isn’t it?” I turned. “What song? I blocked him the day we broke up.” “That old breakup anthem. ‘Take It All’.” Tessa and I looked at each other for a moment, then burst into a fit of laughter and tears. “You can take it all, every single thing,” we sang, our voices shaky. “I’ll take what’s left of this broken mess.” “Just leave our dog, he’s my only friend…” Tessa was laughing so hard tears streamed down her face. “He didn’t want anything but the dog, and you didn’t take anything but the dog! Hahaha!” Our laughter echoed across the fields, slowly, painfully, dissolving into tears. 3 [So Long, World – April 17, 2023, 10:08 AM — Do Dogs Know You’re Leaving?] The old wooden door creaked open. I swatted away a spiderweb. “You know, ever since Oren and I moved to LA for college, I barely came back here. After Mom and Dad were gone, we took Buddy with us. This is the first time he’s been back.” The camera perspective shifted. Now I was holding it. “Hey, hey! It’s Quinn, and welcome to my immersive tour of the old family homestead!” Tessa, wearing an apron and holding a broom, scowled. “My lady, I’m the one doing all the work!” “I’m the patient! You have to spoil me!” After a round of laughter, I emerged from the kitchen, my face smudged with soot. Tessa snatched the spatula from my hand, her expression dark. “I told you, no cooking! Have you forgotten how bad you are at it? Out! Go sit down!” I coughed, a smile playing on my lips, and sat on the sofa. The moment Tessa was back in the kitchen, the smile vanished. I propped the phone up on the table and gasped for air, my chest heaving. My hand trembled as I took a few deep pulls from a small oxygen canister before turning back to the camera with a weak smile. “Sorry about that. The breathing thing… it’s been happening more and more lately. Ahem! I’m actually a great cook, you know. Really.” “Watch me brave the kitchen once more!” As I stood, a furry weight settled on my feet. The camera panned down. It was Buddy, his eyes droopy, lying on my sneakers. “You hungry, boy?” I offered him a piece of jerky. He took it gently, then lay back down on my feet, unmoving. “Come on, Buddy. I’m going to go check on Tessa. Up.” He didn’t budge. “What’s with you? You’re so clingy today.” I stroked his fur, which had grown coarse with age. “I get it. You’re getting old too, huh? Too tired to move? Okay, then. I’ll stay with you a little longer.” I leaned back on the sofa. “I won’t have many more chances to, anyway.” Buddy let out a low, soft whine. 4 [So Long, World – April 17, 2023, 11:21 AM — Is a House Still a Home with No One in It?] When I woke up on the sofa, Tessa was kneeling at my feet. She looked up when she heard me stir, her face slick with tears. “Quinn… they say that dogs can sense when their owner is about to leave, so they go on ahead to wait for them in the next life. Is that true?” The phone in my hand nearly fell. I scrambled to touch Buddy. He was still. There was no breath. He had passed away quietly, lying at my feet, while I had drifted off to sleep. I tried to laugh, but it came out looking more painful than a sob. “What are you talking about? Buddy was ten years old. It was just his time.” When the camera was on again, I was on the hill behind the house, patting down the earth on a small mound of dirt. My breathing was ragged, my face pale. Wiping sweat from my brow, I pointed back toward the house. “Home is straight that way. Don’t you lose your way, now. And whatever you do, don’t go to Oren’s…” I stopped myself. With a small, sad smile, I dropped my hand. “Actually, don’t go back. It’ll be empty soon enough. You just wait for me. We’ll build a new home down there, with Mom and Dad.” A sob came from behind the camera, making it shake. I looked up, smiling at the person holding it. “What are you doing? You can’t even hold the camera steady.” Tessa’s crying grew louder. “You’re the one! What are you saying?!” I laughed and beckoned to her. “Look at you. Come on, let’s go home. I’m ready for some of your famous cooking.” “Quinn! If you keep talking like that, I’m going to stop speaking to you!” I walked over, grinning, and slung an arm around her shoulder. “Don’t you worry. Your girl Quinn is invincible. This little cancer? Handled.” I made a little pinching gesture with my thumb and forefinger. “Hahahahahaha!” 5 [So Long, World – April 18, 2023, 8:27 AM — Sometimes, I Forget I’m a Patient] “Quinn! Quinn, open the door!” Tessa was pounding on the bedroom door. The camera was propped up nearby, angled awkwardly, capturing only her frantic legs. From inside the room, my voice, raw and broken, screamed, “Go away! I said, go away! Leave me alone!” The screaming was followed by the violent sounds of retching. Tessa sounded like she was about to cry. “Quinn, I’m going to break the door down! What’s wrong? Let me in!” “GO AWAY! JUST LET ME BE ALONE!” My heart-wrenching sobs echoed through the screen. Tessa threw her shoulder against the door. The old wood groaned and splintered open. Inside, I was knelt by the trash can, strands of hair matted to my face with vomit. I was a wreck, a ghost of the girl who had been laughing and singing just the day before. I looked up, my eyes bloodshot and filled with despair. “Tessa…” “Quinn.” She knelt, ignoring the mess, and pulled me into a fierce hug. My hands trembled as I wrapped them around her, burying my face in her shoulder, my tears soaking her shirt. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled at you… But sometimes, when I wake up, I forget. For a moment, I think I’m just… normal Quinn. And then I stare at the ceiling for what feels like forever until it hits me… I’m sick… I’m sick, Tessa…” I couldn’t speak through the sobs. Tessa held me tighter. “I know. It’s okay. It’s okay, Quinnie. You can get through this. You can… You’re… you’re Quinn Nolan, for God’s sake…” 6 [So Long, World – April 21, 2024, 4:34 PM — Sometimes, Forgetting Is a Kindness to the Departed] I was leaning on Tessa’s shoulder, my sleeve pushed up to reveal an arm covered in black-and-blue bruises. My voice was hoarse. “What am I going to do, Tess? They’re running out of places to stick the needle. It hurts so much.” “Oh, now you feel the pain? Where was this energy last night when you were up all night fighting for tickets?” I pouted. “I have to see my ex-boyfriend’s first major concert since he made it big, don’t I? It’s been a while. I need to see if his singing has improved.” Tessa fell silent. After a long moment, she nudged me. “You said you broke up with him because you didn’t want to be a burden. If he still has feelings for you… would you ask him for help now?” “Never.” My voice was firm. “But a single song of his can earn millions now. He could afford to get you the best treatment.” “Still no! And you’re not allowed to tell him, either!” “But, Quinn, right now you’re…” I put my hands on my hips, the IV line in my hand leaving a faint blue mark on my skin. “I’m fine right now! Besides, I dumped him when he had nothing. What would it look like if I came crawling back the second he made it, saying I was sick? No. Don’t worry.” I gave her a weak grin. “I’m Quinn Nolan! This little cancer? Handled.” I made the pinching gesture again. Tessa just watched me for a moment, then sighed. I waved her on. “Come on, let’s go. There’s no guarantee spending a fortune would even cure this. I’d rather use what I have left to enjoy myself. Let’s go, let’s go! We’re going to the amusement park tonight, right? But first, I found this amazing barbecue place…” “Oof!” I walked straight into someone. I was apologizing profusely when I looked up and saw his face. I froze, then stumbled back several steps. Tessa gasped. “Oren?” Even with the mask and sunglasses, I knew. You always know the eyes of the person you loved. “Quinn?” His handsome eyes, the ones that always seemed to smile, were wide with shock. Then, the shock hardened into anger. Resentment. Without a second thought, I turned and ran. The camera shook wildly as Tessa scrambled to follow me. A cancer patient was running faster than she ever had when she was healthy. Behind the sound of my ragged gasps for breath, a voice roared my name. “Quinn! Do you hate me that much?!”

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The horde was at our gates, and Lena, my wife and Vanguard leader, took her team to celebrate her ex’s birthday. The Commander ordered me to retrieve them. I refused. Last life, I’d raced to bring them back. We won, but her precious James got cornered and eaten by zombies—just his head left. Lena went berserk retrieving his corpse. She locked herself away for a week, then acted like nothing happened. When my serum cured humanity, she drugged me and fed me to zombies. “You lured the horde here,” she hissed. “You stole his research. Go to hell.” I woke up back at the attack. This time? Let her party. 1 The symphony of gunshots and screams was the sound of my rebirth. I was heading for the door when the Commander burst in, his face pale. “Dr. Larry! The horde is here! Get Lena to rally the Vanguard, now!” Before I could answer, the voice of Marcus, our logistics chief, cut through the panic. “Commander! I’ve searched everywhere. The Vanguard is gone. Every last one of them. And they took our remaining armored trucks!” A wave of terror washed over the faces of the survivors huddled in the lab. The Commander froze, his eyes wide with disbelief. “Gone? Where did they go?!” I let out a heavy sigh, the truth a bitter pill. “They went with Lena. To the Exchange, for James’s birthday party.” “What?!” The Commander’s face was a mask of shock. “We had intel yesterday! A horde was on its way! They were all put on high alert! And they left—all of them—for a goddamn birthday party?” Behind him, the whispers turned to furious muttering. The survivors’ fear was curdling into rage. To abandon the entire Sanctuary for one man’s birthday… The roar of the horde grew closer, punctuated by another volley of gunfire. People screamed and ducked, the lab dissolving into chaos. The Commander took charge. “Everyone with a firearm, secure the main gate! The rest of you, get to the research wing’s basement! Do not come out until you hear a friendly voice, you understand?” After directing the stream of terrified survivors, he turned to me, his expression grim. “Dr. Larry, you’re a pyrokinetic, and you know their weaknesses better than anyone. There’s still a small jeep in the research garage. You have to go after them. Bring them back.” I shook my head, a knot of futility tightening in my gut. “Commander, it’s not that I don’t want to. But even if I reach them, Lena won’t believe a word I say.” A heavy silence fell over the room. Everyone knew. Ever since James, another researcher, had arrived at the Sanctuary, Lena’s infatuation had been a public spectacle. Everyone knew we fought constantly over him, that we had divorce papers drawn up and waiting. As they stared at me, trapped and helpless, Marcus stepped forward. “I’ll go,” he said, his voice firm. “I’ve got a rifle and some charges. I can make it out. The serum is in its final stage. We can’t risk the Doctor.” The Commander nodded, and Marcus didn’t waste a second, peeling out of the emergency tunnel in the jeep. The Commander led the armed defense, a desperate stand against the tide of the dead, while the rest of us huddled in the basement. Two hours later, Marcus returned. Hope flickered in every eye as he staggered through the door, but it was extinguished in an instant. He was alone. One of his team members rushed to his side. “Marcus? What happened? Where are they?” Marcus’s eyes were bloodshot. He fell to his knees, his body trembling. “I’m sorry… I failed,” he choked out. “Lena… she called me a liar. Said I was in on some sick joke with you, Dr. Larry, just to ruin the party.” He looked up, his face a canvas of pain and betrayal. “I begged them. I told them the whole Sanctuary would fall. They just… they used their powers to hold me down while they laughed. They said I’d get what I deserved for trying to trick them.” He was covered in bruises and cuts, the jeep behind him a mangled wreck. It was clear they hadn’t been gentle. The story ignited a firestorm of fury. “Vanguard Captain? She’s nothing but a whore, circling that pretty boy James while we all burn!” The angry shouts were cut short by a deafening boom from outside. The ground shuddered. Panic erupted again. The Commander reappeared, his face streaked with grime and despair. “An Alpha! It’s here, commanding the horde! The main gate won’t hold!” “We’re going to die, aren’t we?” a survivor sobbed, their voice trembling with terror. I looked at the terrified, soot-stained faces around me and raised my communicator. “I’ve already contacted the military. A rescue convoy is on its way, but it will take time. We have to hold on!” I turned to the group. “I’ll go find help. I’ll go to the neighboring outposts and beg for reinforcements. We just need to buy more time!” Marcus’s eyes lit up. He struggled to his feet, ready to go, but swayed and nearly collapsed. The others caught him, and as they helped him to a seat, they saw it: a massive, grotesque gash on his back, the unmistakable mark of a zombie’s claws. He managed a weak, bitter smile. “Let me go. I’m already infected. If I can bring back help… let that be the last thing I do.” The logistics team turned away, unable to watch. Soft sobs echoed in the cramped basement. “You’re not going anywhere,” I said, pulling a vial of pale blue liquid from my coat. I hesitated for only a second before holding it out to him. “This is the latest version of the serum. It’s been successful in animal trials. I have no idea if it will work on a person… but right now, it’s all we’ve got.” Ignoring the protests, I grabbed the keys to the battered jeep and headed for the exit. The Commander stopped me at the door. “Dr. Larry, be fast. Our ammo will last two hours, tops.” I gave him a solemn nod. I had barely cleared the Sanctuary’s perimeter when headlights appeared, coming straight for me. My heart leaped. I slammed on the brakes and waved frantically. The driver was Rhys, the Vanguard captain from the northern outpost. I jumped out of my jeep, grabbing his arm in relief. “Rhys! Thank God you’re here! There’s no time, you have to come back to the Sanctuary with me…” He shoved my hand away, his face contorted in a sneer. “Still putting on a show, Larry?” 2 I stared at him, completely baffled. “What are you talking about? Didn’t you get the distress call?” Rhys blocked my path, his eyes filled with contempt. “You mean the distress call from your own impending escape? Captain Lena radioed me this morning. She told me everything. Told me to wait here and stop you from running away like a coward.” He spat on the ground. “And to think we all respected you, ‘Doctor.’ That serum of yours is a load of crap, isn’t it? Just a cover for your getaway. You’re a real piece of work.” I stood frozen, the world tilting on its axis. It took me a moment for his words to sink in. Lena had said something similar, right before she’d had me killed in my past life. She said I lured the horde to kill James. That I stole his research to create the serum. My heart plummeted. It hit me like a physical blow. Lena… she’d been reborn, too. That’s why Marcus couldn’t convince them. And now… she’d cut off our last lifeline. Thinking of the desperate faces back in the basement, I pushed aside my shock. “Rhys, listen to me! Get your team and follow me back to the Sanctuary right now. If I’m lying, you can do whatever you want to me! I swear on my life!” I grabbed his jacket. “There are hundreds of people in there. I would not joke about this!” He just rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Nice speech. How do I know this isn’t another one of your tricks? And even if the horde did show up, Lena and her Vanguard are there. You expect me to believe they can’t handle a few zombies?” I yanked him closer by his collar, my voice raw with fury. “Yes, it would be easy if Lena was there! But she’s not! She took her whole team to a birthday party for James!” I was screaming now, my face hot with rage. “Do you know why she called you yesterday, Rhys? She planned this! She sent you here to stop me, to make sure no one interrupted her precious celebration!” For the first time, a flicker of doubt crossed his face. “No… that’s impossible. Lena wouldn’t abandon her post, not for… personal reasons. She wouldn’t risk the entire Sanctuary.” He shook his head, trying to convince himself. “You’re lying.” I looked at him, and all the fight went out of me, replaced by a wave of crushing despair. I used to trust her like that, too. Unconditionally. We’d met in college. When the world fell apart, we’d survived it together, side-by-side. I thought she was the one person I could always count on. I thought we would see the end of this nightmare together. But that all changed the day James arrived. She would snap at me, accusing me of alienating the “new guy” whenever James was in a mood, even though he was a worthless nepotism hire who knew nothing about real research. She would find time in her packed schedule to cook special meals for him, fawning over him in front of everyone, making no secret of her affection. While I, her husband, stood by and watched. A familiar, bitter taste filled my mouth, but this was no time for self-pity. If he wouldn’t help, I’d go to another outpost. Even a single squad of reinforcements could be enough to turn the tide. I scrambled back into my jeep and slammed my foot on the accelerator. Rhys immediately swerved his own truck, blocking my path. “You’re not going anywhere, Larry!” I saw red. I didn’t care anymore. I floored it, aiming straight for him. If I had to die today, I was dragging reinforcements back with me. My move startled him. He reacted instantly, a wave of kinetic energy erupting from his hands, shredding the front of my jeep and killing the engine. I slammed my fists on the useless steering wheel, my voice cracking. “Rhys, get out of my way! They’re dying in there!” He ignored me, his jaw set, planting himself in front of the wreckage. “I’ll go with you. But if you’re lying to me…” “Then radio your team!” I cut him off, my voice hoarse. “Tell them to get ready! I’m not lying!” One man wasn’t enough. We needed his entire Vanguard. Rhys stared at me, his resolve finally wavering. He pulled out his communicator. The next second, the emergency broadcast channel crackled to life, a robotic voice cutting through the silence. [ALERT. ALERT. SOUTHERN SANCTUARY UNDER CRITICAL SIEGE BY ZOMBIE HORDE. ALL AVAILABLE VANGUARD UNITS IN THE SECTOR ARE TO PROVIDE IMMEDIATE ASSISTANCE.] [REPEAT: ALL AVAILABLE VANGUARD UNITS ARE TO PROVIDE IMMEDIATE ASSISTANCE.] The color drained from Rhys’s face. 3 By the time Rhys and I made it back, the Sanctuary was a slaughterhouse. The air hung thick with the stench of blood and gunpowder. Gunshots and screams echoed through the research labs, now overrun with the dead. Limbs and torsos littered the corridors, a gruesome testament to the failed defense. My eyes burned with tears. No matter what I did, I was too late. Rhys stood beside me, speechless, his face ashen. I ignited my power, fire erupting from my palms, incinerating the closest zombies. The shock finally broke Rhys’s trance, and he joined the fight, a whirlwind of motion and controlled violence. Just as my energy reserves began to bottom out, a zombie lunged at me from my blind side. I had no time to dodge, only to wrap myself in a desperate shield of flame, bracing for the impact. BANG! A single gunshot sent the creature stumbling sideways. Marcus was standing at the entrance to the basement, a pistol in his shaking hands, picking off the undead one by one. At the same time, the silhouettes of more Powered fighters appeared at the main gate. Reinforcements had arrived. A surge of desperate hope flooded through me. We fought side-by-side with the newly arrived teams, a coordinated storm of power and bullets that drove the horde back. When the last zombie was finally cut down, I collapsed to the ground, gasping for air. The basement door creaked open. But when the survivors emerged, my relief curdled into horror. Barely a tenth of them had made it. The smile died on my lips. Rhys approached me, his head bowed in shame. “I’m so sorry, Larry. This is my fault.” Before I could respond, a cheerful, lilting voice echoed through the ravaged hall. “Well, look at this! Are all you guys here to throw a surprise party for James?” And there she was. Lena, walking in with James’s arm wrapped around her waist, her Vanguard team trailing behind them, all smiles and laughter. Her smile faltered as she took in the carnage. Her eyes landed on me, and a cruel, mocking smirk spread across her face. “So, is the little drama over, Evan? How does it feel to have your plan fall apart?” She waved a dismissive hand. “Whatever. It’s James’s birthday. Don’t be an eyesore. We have a party to get back to.” She was practically giddy, completely oblivious to the daggers being stared at her from all sides. Her own team members were starting to notice the bodies, their cheerful expressions slowly dissolving into confusion and horror. James, meanwhile, pulled Lena into a deep, theatrical kiss right in front of me. When he broke away, he shot me a smug, triumphant look. “Sorry, Dr. Larry. Lena lost a dare. She has to be my girlfriend for the day. You don’t mind, do you?” His smirk was wiped off his face by a bucket of filthy water. A survivor, his eyes blazing with hatred, stood trembling before them. He and the others began grabbing anything they could find—metal pipes, broken equipment—and started advancing. “You son of a bitch! What are you gloating about? Enjoying the party you paid for with our lives?” “You monster! Why aren’t you the one lying dead on the floor?!” “Get out! We don’t need you two traitors protecting us!” …

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I’m a Beta. My secondary differentiation decided to hit right as I was about to fight my arch-nemesis in a back alley. “Get ready, grandpa’s about to fold you like a pretzel!” I threw a punch, but my legs gave out, and I collapsed right into his arms. My rival arched an eyebrow. “Oh? A new way to throw yourself at me?” Dammit! Before I could spit out a curse, the scent of mint wafting from him had me completely hooked. So good… so nice… so comforting… 1 I was a Beta. I never imagined that my body would choose a moment meant to display peak masculine prowess—a street fight—to undergo a secondary differentiation. The change sent me straight into a heat, my vision swimming and my legs turning to jelly. That’s why the punch I threw was pathetically weak, and I ended up tumbling right into Chris Fitch. Chris and I had been at each other’s throats all through high school. Whatever I wanted, he’d fight me for it, and after winning, he’d parade in front of me, gloating. I knew he just couldn’t stand me. This particular fight started because I’d sent a sexy, post-shower mirror selfie to my best friend, asking him to rate it. He took half an hour to reply. Not Human: I’d give it thirty… minutes. It took my brain two seconds to crash after seeing the contact name. I sent it to the wrong person! Realization dawned, and I let out a furious roar at my phone. “Chris Fitch! Go to hell!” He… he actually dared to get off to my picture! And that’s how we ended up in this alley. But of all the rotten luck… I had to go and differentiate! 2 The minty scent coming off Chris was so fresh, so intoxicating. The punch I’d thrown turned into a weak slap that landed on his shoulder. My body, acting on pure instinct, pressed closer against his. Chris stumbled back, and I pinned him against the wall. “What’s the plan today? A body slam?” He was a good half a head taller than me. He looked down, the playful mockery in his eyes undiminished. “You smell… so good…” I mumbled. Chris seemed to freeze for a second. “I thought you couldn’t smell pheromones?” My gland was burning, a throbbing, stinging heat at the back of my neck. The mint scent in the air was so alluring I couldn’t control myself. I was burning from head to toe, driven by instinct, his words not even registering. My hands roamed over his body as my nose desperately tried to pinpoint the source of the scent. I finally found it—the side of his neck—but a warm hand immediately pressed against my face, stopping me. Chris’s brow was furrowed, his voice serious. “Kai, are you having a secondary differentiation?” How would I know? All I knew was that Chris’s pheromones were incredible. They were cool and refreshing. Pressing against him felt like stepping into an air-conditioned room on a blistering summer day—soothing and comfortable. As a Beta, I’d never been able to smell his scent before. Now, my body was making up for lost time. “And yours is… honeysuckle,” Chris noted, tilting his head with a soft tsk. “Forget the fight. I’m taking you to the hospital.” Chris was being so loud, chattering on about something so trivial. Annoyed, I cupped his face and leaned in. As I moved closer, a single string of sanity vibrated in my mind. Dammit! Why am I feeling this desire?! This is my enemy! I’m going to get my ass kicked! But that sanity lasted all of thirty seconds before a devious piece of advice from my best friend flashed in my head. “The best way to deal with a rival is to kiss him. Just go for it. He’ll be too shocked to do anything in the moment. He’ll be embarrassed, disgusted, and he’ll never mess with you again.” At the time, I thought it was a terrible, self-destructive idea. Now? It seemed brilliant. What better time than the present? Besides, he was the one who got off to my picture… Desire shot through me like a rocket. Chris didn’t stop me, but the hand gripping my wrist tightened. Before I could register what happened next, the fever finally consumed me, and I blacked out. 3 I woke up in a hospital. Chris was taking a report from a doctor. “The test results are conclusive. It’s a small probability, but it happens. He’s differentiated into an Omega.” Who? Who were they talking about? My mind was foggy from sleep, and I couldn’t make sense of the situation. One, why was I in a hospital? Two, why was this bastard Chris here? Three, who the hell differentiated into an Omega? Then, the doctor’s eyes met mine. “The differentiation triggered an early heat. The fever will likely last a few more days, so take it easy.” “Who?” I stared at the doctor, my voice a croak of disbelief. A half-smile played on Chris’s lips as he walked over, ruffling my hair. “Stop petting me like a dog,” I snapped, swatting his hand away. Unfazed, Chris handed me the report. I stared at the words. Secondary Differentiation: Omega. I immediately fell back onto the bed. The doctor said a few more things, but I didn’t hear a word. My mind was reeling. I had gone from being a regular Beta to… fair game for any Alpha. Tragic. I caught a glimpse of Chris’s smirk and shot up from the bed. “Seen enough? Why don’t you get lost?” Chris straightened up, a faint smile on his lips. “We haven’t settled the score from last night.” He was right! Furious, I pointed a finger at him. “Have you no shame? How dare you get off to my—” He might be shameless, but I wasn’t. I couldn’t finish the sentence in front of the doctor. Chris gently pushed my hand down, rubbing his nose as he chuckled. “I was just messing with you.” “Liar!” “I was lying to you, yes.” Listen to him! Is that how a human being talks? Before I could curse him out again, Chris spoke up. “So, what about you leaning in to kiss me without a word? How do we settle that?” Holy hell! Th-that… wasn’t my fault, was it? I immediately turned to the doctor for help. The doctor cleared his throat, completely unfazed. “Don’t worry about it. It was a normal physiological reaction, given that your differentiation coincided with the onset of your heat.” “But that was my first kiss,” Chris sighed dramatically. So was mine! My eyes widened. Finally, I just gave up. “Then we’re even!” “I won’t press the issue about the picture.” Chris’s eyes darkened, but he said nothing. 4 A minute later, I begrudgingly accepted my new reality. I turned to Chris. “Can you get out? This whole room stinks of your mint.” Chris gave me a surprised look, then glanced at the doctor. “What?” I asked, confused. “His suppressant bracelet is on the highest setting. He should have almost no scent right now.” What! I was stunned. Did my nose break during the differentiation? The doctor thought for a moment. “It’s possible that because you were with him during the differentiation, your compatibility is very high. That would make you more sensitive to his pheromones.” Chris looked at me, and on the doctor’s advice, he stepped out of the room. The moment he was gone, the scent seemed to fade a little, and I frowned without realizing it. “What’s wrong?” the doctor asked, observing me. I touched my gland and shook my head. “Nothing.” The doctor continued with his instructions. “You need to rest for the next few days. Your heat isn’t over yet. And you’ll need to carry suppressants with you.” That was the first thing that got through to me. I looked up sharply. “How much are suppressants?” The doctor adjusted his glasses. “Your friend already paid for them.” I clenched my fists. Suppressants… another expense I’d have to budget for. “The suppressants…” I started, then hesitated. Chris came from a wealthy family. He would have paid for the good stuff, but I couldn’t afford that. I bit my lip and asked quietly, “Can you… switch them all for a cheaper brand?” The doctor blinked. “Those aren’t as effective, and the side effects are much worse.” I threw back the covers and got out of bed. “Please, just switch them for the cheaper ones. Thank you.” 5 The doctor was a good man. He exchanged the suppressants for me and refunded the difference. I walked back to my rented room, a bag of supplies in my hand, my mind racing. First, I had to pay Chris back. Then, I needed to find another part-time job. The monthly cost of suppressants was no small thing… As I reached my building, the stray dog I often fed came bounding towards me. “Buddy,” I said, squatting down to pet him. But he was frantic, nipping at my pant leg and pulling me toward the stairs. A knot of dread tightened in my stomach. I sprinted upstairs. The door to my room had been pried open. The inside was completely ransacked. I ran to my bed, dropped to my knees, and felt under the mattress for the cash I’d hidden. It was gone. “Woof! Woof!” Buddy barked from downstairs. A white-hot rage surged through me. I flew back down the stairs and ran towards my father’s house, Buddy at my heels. I kicked the door. “Open up!” No answer. I kicked it twice more. Knowing it was useless, I let out a bitter laugh and went to the woodshed next door, grabbing a rusty old meat cleaver. I brought it down on the door with a sickening thud. “Don’t make me say it a third time,” I snarled. “Open the door!” The door was opened by a drunk woman. The stench of alcohol was so strong I had to turn my head as I pushed past her. “Where’s Marcus Todd?” The woman, Rhonda, leaned against the doorframe, ready for a show. “Marcus! Your son’s here to see you!” The moment my father saw me, he started to tremble. “Give it back,” I said, my voice dangerously calm as I walked toward him. “Wh-what?” he feigned ignorance. “Don’t play dumb. My savings. The three hundred and fifty dollars.” He wouldn’t even look at me. “I don’t know…” “While I’m still willing to talk to you calmly…” I took a deep breath. “Give it back, and I’ll let it go.” I had saved that money for so long, working part-time jobs during breaks and sometimes even skipping class, all to escape this hellhole and focus on my final exams. I just needed to last a few more months. But of course, Marcus had taken it to pay off his gambling debts. He suddenly dropped to his knees, a mess of snot and tears. “It’s gone! I used it to pay them back…” Blood roared in my ears. The fury was about to burst from my chest. I lunged forward and punched him square in the face. He threw his arms up to block his face, whimpering, “Kai, you can’t do this… You have to let me live, Kai! I’ll pay you back…” “You really expect me to believe you?” I laughed humorlessly. “I’m your father!” “Not for a long time!” I punched him again, harder this time. “You stopped being my father when you tried to drown me at age three. When I grew up under your belt. We haven’t been father and son for years.” He was shaking violently. With a sudden burst of strength, he pushed me away, grabbed a stool, and held it in front of him like a shield. “Kai, please try to understand. I had no choice! They were going to kill me!” “Then you shouldn’t have fucking gambled!” I roared. “I… I’ve stopped… I just…” “Why should my tuition money pay for your gambling debts?!” “Because I’m your father!” he screamed back. “I had no choice! They were going to kill me!” “Then they can fucking kill me!” I shrieked, grabbing the cleaver and slamming it into the wooden table. The blade vibrated with a low hum, perfectly wedged in a crack. The room fell silent. As I walked out, I pointed at him. “Never again,” I warned. “Next time, I might just take one of your hands.” 6 I cleaned up my trashed room. Looking at the broken lock, I didn’t even have the energy to fix it. There was nothing left to steal, anyway. The most valuable thing I owned was already gone. I lay on my bed for a long time, utterly defeated. Then I rummaged through the bag of supplies and looked at the receipt for the suppressants. A heavy sigh escaped me. The next day, during gym class, I felt incredibly dizzy. It was supposed to be autumn, but the last couple of days had been stiflingly hot. During free time, I sat alone on the bleachers. My best friend, Leo, tossed me a bottle of water. He plopped down next to me. “Heard you and Chris went at it in the alley again. You never told me how it went.” Just the mention of it made my head ache. “Just shut up.” Leo was an Alpha, and a faint scent of rum drifted from him. I frowned slightly. “Have you been drinking?” “Are you running a fever?” Leo shook the bottle. “Pure mineral water.” “Then where’s that…” I trailed off, remembering the secondary differentiation. I hadn’t told anyone. No wonder I felt so hot and agitated. The doctor did say the heat would last a few days and that I needed to rest. “What?” Leo stared at me. “Nothing,” I said, shaking my head. I was starting to feel worse. “You don’t look well. Why is your face so red?” His scent was making me dizzier, hotter. “It’s nothing. I’m just tired.” Just as Leo was about to say something else, someone called him over to play basketball. As he stood up, he tossed his jacket over my head. Ugh, the smell. I was about to throw it off when someone else lifted it. A faint, almost imperceptible scent of mint drifted towards me. It was so good I instinctively took a deep breath, my body leaning forward. It was so comforting, instantly soothing the dizziness and the throbbing in my gland. My gaze fell on a pair of clean sneakers and the straight lines of two legs in school uniform trousers. I looked up. Our eyes met. Chris was looking down at me. “Why aren’t you home resting?” I frowned. “None of your business.” My mouth said one thing, but my body wanted to get closer to him. For once, Chris didn’t argue. “The doctor said your heat isn’t over yet, you need to—” I shot up, grabbing his hand and putting a finger to my lips. Seeing that no one was paying attention to us, I relaxed. The thought of my differentiation made me glance at him. I hadn’t had a chance to tell him to keep his mouth shut, but then again, he wasn’t the type to gossip. “What is it?” Chris asked. “Nothing.” I stood up to face him. “Kai.” I didn’t know what new game he was playing, so I ignored him and turned to leave. As I passed him, he spoke again, a soft chuckle in his voice. “Beg me.” I clenched my fists at my sides, then shrugged nonchalantly. “Do whatever you want.” I knew exactly what kind of person Chris Fitch was. “I’ll pay you back for the medical bills in a couple of days.” With that, I walked away, oblivious to the intense gaze that followed me. 7 This was no time to rest. I needed money for living expenses for the next six months, money to pay Chris back, and money for monthly suppressants. I found a night shift job at a newly opened restaurant. If I worked full-time, I could make over a thousand a month. I didn’t expect to run into Chris again. Actually, it wasn’t that surprising. Rich kids always had money to burn and were the first to know about any new spot in town. Our eyes met, and we both quickly looked away. Neither of us said hello. I avoided his gaze out of a sense of inferiority. He probably looked away because I was nothing special to him. I was supposed to serve his private room, but the manager suddenly switched me with someone else. “You just cover the main floor. Chen, you take the private room.” I gave him a questioning look. The manager explained, “Is young Mr. Fitch in that room a classmate of yours? He said you don’t need to serve them.” I let out a soft, bitter laugh and went downstairs. Chris was, in his own way, trying to protect my pride. But for someone as twisted up as me, that kind of consideration was worse than none at all. My post-differentiation heat was unstable, and the cheap suppressants only made it worse. As I worked, I started to feel sick again. I told a coworker my stomach was upset, grabbed a suppressant, and slipped into the restroom. Just as I was about to inject it, a hand with long, elegant fingers clamped around my wrist. I whipped my head around in shock. Chris’s brow was furrowed, his voice tight with displeasure. “Didn’t I buy you the good suppressants?” I ignored him, quickly injecting the needle before he could react. The sharp pain momentarily masked my discomfort. I took a deep, shuddering breath. “Kai,” Chris’s voice was low, laced with an unfamiliar anger. “Can’t you take better care of yourself?” I slapped his hand away, a self-deprecating smile on my face. “I’m poor, rich boy.” Chris’s eyes darkened, his expression unreadable. “What’s with that look?” I scoffed. “Pity?” “I…” “I have to get back to work.” I tried to step around him. But he grabbed my hand again. “You can’t keep working like this. The side effects of those cheap suppressants are too strong. And if you’re hiding in here to take them, you obviously haven’t told your manager about your condition.” I turned to glare at him. “What? Are you threatening me? Or do you want me to beg you again? There’s no point in teasing someone like me. I’m always just a pathetic mess in front of you…” When he didn’t speak, I laughed bitterly. “Stop messing around. I have to work. Every minute is money. Unlike you, born with a silver spoon in your mouth. So go ahead and beg—” “I’m begging you.” The hand on my wrist tightened. Chris’s throat worked, his voice a low, rough thing. “I’m begging you.” Before I could understand what he meant, a warm bracelet was snapped onto my wrist, still holding his body heat. “I know you won’t go home and rest, and getting new suppressants would take too long. A suppressant bracelet will be much more effective,” Chris said softly, letting go of my wrist once it was secure. I was stunned. “You…” “Go on.” Chris instantly reverted to his usual careless demeanor, even playfully ruffling my hair. “Tsk.” I shook my head, annoyed. “It’s a mess, like a dog’s fur,” he laughed, then turned and walked out the door. He paused and looked back. “And if you think this is teasing, there’s plenty more where that came from.” I stared at his straight back for a long time before my gaze fell to the bracelet on my wrist. His smile and his words sent ripples across the stagnant pool of my heart. It took me a long moment to pull myself together and return to work.

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The moment the fraudulent heiress kicked me out of the game’s safe zone, I collapsed outside, sobbing. That’s when the Boss happened to pass by. He must have mistaken my simple white dress for some kind of employee uniform, because he simply took me with him. “Done crying over there? Come cry over here.” Just when everyone thought I was dead, a monster was introducing me to my new colleagues. “This is our new hire.” “She’s an excellent crier. We’ll make her our new Atmosphere Engineer.” 1 This whole nightmare started the day I came home. I was dragged into a horror game—a twisted world blending Eastern mysticism with Western rules—by Claire, the girl who had stolen my life. It was a scenario straight out of the melodramatic dynastic dramas my adoptive mother used to watch, only this was real. I was the long-lost daughter, and Claire was the fraudulent heiress. In a corner where no one else could see, she smiled and winked at me. “Let’s make a little wager,” she whispered. “Blood ties are no match for eighteen years of shared history. They’ll never choose you.” She wanted me to understand my place. She was the meticulously groomed successor, a shareholder in the family company since she turned eighteen. Poised, confident, with a resume that shone like gold. I was timid, a shrinking violet who flinched at her own shadow. I would never be the one they chose. Even my return, in her eyes, was an act of audacious ingratitude. Claire turned to our parents, her voice dripping with practiced sweetness. “It’s just a game, Mom, Dad. You’re both so busy, it’s rare we get to do something fun together. Besides, it’s a great chance for my new sister to get to know us.” I was the “new sister” she spoke of. Our parents, utterly charmed by her, agreed without a second thought. I trailed behind them in silence as we walked into a forest shrouded in a black, clinging fog. Deep within the woods stood a dilapidated, ramshackle mansion. Claire pointed at it, her eyes alight with excitement. “There it is!” The starting point of the game. She gathered the hem of her dress and sprinted ahead. Only I noticed it. Peeking out from beneath the overgrown weeds was a rusty, bloodstained sign. 【YOU ONLY LIVE ONCE.】 Die in the game, and you die for real. 2 I was thrown out on the very first night. I had barely settled onto the sofa in our designated apartment when large, crimson letters began to bleed through the white paint of the wall. 【EACH APARTMENT CAN ONLY HOUSE THREE PEOPLE.】 “Those are the rules of the game,” Claire announced. “Break them, and you’re forcibly ejected.” She turned to me, a picture of feigned apology. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know the rules beforehand. I only booked one apartment.” My mother looked at her, a hint of chiding in her tone. “Why didn’t you book more? It’s not like we can’t afford it.” Claire’s lip trembled. “To make it feel real, you have to book the rooms with Grave Tokens. I just… found it too morbid.” It was a good excuse. “I suppose so,” my mother conceded. Her gaze then shifted to me, heavy with hesitation and a sliver of guilt. “Stella…” “It’s just a game. Please don’t blame your sister.” I choked back a sob and nodded. “Okay.” Without another word, I picked up my bag and turned the doorknob. No one tried to stop me. I only heard the collective sigh of relief from behind me. “We knew you’d be understanding.” They wanted me gone. They’d just found a polite way to say it. I pulled the door shut. The moment it clicked, I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I leaned against the cold hallway wall and wept. 3 I could have had a good life. A wonderful one, even. It was my adoptive mother who had swapped me with Claire at birth. Karma came for her in the end; she was diagnosed with a terminal illness in her early forties. Only then, on her deathbed, did she finally confess the truth. I didn’t have to start working grueling summer jobs in high school. I didn’t have to endure my alcoholic adoptive father snatching my tuition money. All of it, just because of one woman’s selfish desire. And now, even after being reunited with my real parents, I was homeless once again. Dressed in a simple white dress, my hair unbound, I crouched outside their door and cried. When the grief hit, the world around me simply ceased to exist. In the dim hallway, the motion-activated light flickered on and off, on and off, a silent witness to my despair. My hands trembled as I messaged the game’s support line. 【Can I still book a room after the game has started?】 The reply was a stark, three-word sentence. 【No.】 Dusk was falling. A string of red exclamation points materialized on the corridor wall. 【PLEASE RETURN TO YOUR APARTMENT BEFORE NIGHTFALL.】 I pushed myself up and tried knocking on other doors. No one answered. Defeated, I stumbled back to my original spot and sank to the floor, my sobs escalating until I sounded like a teakettle at full boil. The sky bled from orange to deep violet. Footsteps echoed down the hall. Something was prowling nearby. I couldn’t see it, but its massive, distorted shadow danced on the wall, growing closer and closer. A low, deep voice rumbled from directly above me. “Starting your shift this early?” 4 I froze. I’d been crying so hard my eyes were raw and swollen. My hair was a mess, damp strands stuck to my tear-streaked cheeks. I was still hiccupping, struggling to catch my breath, and couldn’t manage a single word. An icy hand clamped onto the nape of my neck, lifting me as if I weighed nothing. My legs dangled in the air, kicking instinctively. “Don’t move,” the voice commanded, its tone chilling me to the bone. I went perfectly still. A moment later, it set me down. “Done crying over there? Come cry over here.” I found myself sitting at the far end of the hallway, utterly bewildered. The entity offered a helpful clarification. “Start from here.” Confused but compliant, I took a ragged breath and began to cry again, my wails echoing through the empty corridor as I started to wander like a lost spirit. My voice was raw from overuse, and I could no longer summon that initial, world-ending shriek. Suddenly, my phone screen lit up. A message from Claire. 【Are you okay?】 【It’s pretty intense out here. There’s some kind of ghost, just crying its head off.】 【Think you’ll run into her?】 The walls were thin. They could hear everything. My biological parents had listened to my heartbroken sobs all afternoon and had done nothing. The thought drained the energy from my weeping, but then a fresh wave of despair washed over me, and the tears came renewed, bitter and sharp. I didn’t reply to her. Instead, I drifted right up to her door and let out the most mournful, blood-curdling cry I could muster. Suddenly, I felt a tug on the hem of my dress. “Sister, it’s time to switch shifts.” My gaze traveled down. I shuddered. It was a baby, its skin a mottled canvas of blue and purple. It was standing, staring up at me with hollow, vacant eyes. “It’s my turn to cry now,” she said softly. The scene was profoundly bizarre. It was like going to a pediatrician and finding out your doctor was a toddler. I clapped a hand over my mouth. “Oh, right. You go ahead.” 5 The walking infant was surprisingly capable. She could cry and talk to me at the same time. “Aren’t you going back to rest, sister?” My own wretched situation flooded my mind again, and a fresh wave of tears streamed down my face. She jumped, startled. “Wow, you really can cry.” For them, it was a job. For me, it was my miserable life. “I have nowhere to go,” I sobbed. “I’ll just stay here and keep you company.” She clearly misinterpreted my meaning. “No dorm? Are you a new hire?” “I can be,” I whispered. I stayed with her for half an hour, until a zombie shambled up the stairs to take over her shift. She told me her name was Pip, she was thirteen months old, and had been working here for thirteen years. This game wasn’t just inhumane; it was a violator of infant labor laws. The employee-monsters occupied the first four floors when they were off-duty. The human players lived on the floors above. Pip led me to her employee dorm. It was a nursery. I felt the tears welling up again. Even a strange, ghostly baby was kinder to me than my own parents. Pip stood on her tiptoes, offering me her baby bottle. “Don’t cry, sister. Have some milk-milk.” Not wanting to hurt her feelings, I took it and managed two small sips. Gag. It was coppery, metallic. Like blood. “Sorry, I really can’t… urgh…”

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I’d just gotten back from two weeks of shredding the slopes in Aspen with my best friend. Around midnight, my phone rang. Someone told me to move my car. Half-asleep, I figured it was a prank call, mumbled “You’ve gotta be kidding me,” and went back to sleep. A few minutes later, a man claiming to be a cop called. “Move your car immediately, or we’re having it towed.” All sleepiness vanished in an instant. But my car was parked in my own designated spot. Where was I supposed to move it to? 1 The man’s voice on the phone was a raw, angry bark. “You parked in the wrong spot. Move it, you hear me?” I frowned, my patience worn thin from two weeks of travel and being woken up in the middle of the night. “You must have the wrong number. I’m in my own parking spot. Where am I supposed to go?” “Your spot? I’ve been parking here since the day I moved in. You better move that piece of junk, or I’m not responsible for what happens to it.” His words sent a shiver of doubt through me. What if I really had parked in the wrong place? I threw on some clothes, grabbed my keys, and headed down to the parking garage. The moment I approached, a burly, menacing man pointed a thick finger in my face and started screaming. “You goddamn bitch! Shameless slut, you dare take my spot? You got a death wish or something?” The sudden torrent of abuse stunned me. Tears welled up in my eyes, hot and involuntary. But then I looked up and saw the number painted on the concrete wall: B3502. My spot. A wave of humiliation and rage washed over me. “Say that again,” I said, my voice shaking. “Whose spot is this?” The man’s fleshy jowls quivered with fury, his finger still aimed at me like a weapon. Spittle flew from his mouth, landing just inches from my feet. “Are you fucking stupid? Get your piece-of-shit car out of my spot, now! Don’t think I won’t hit you just because you’re a woman.” His sheer belligerence ignited my own anger. “Watch your mouth. And for the record, this is my spot. I’m parked here legally. Why should I move?” He sneered, his eyes bulging. “Screw you, you worthless cunt. I’ll say whatever I want. Now move the damn car before I smash it to pieces.” I clenched my jaw, tears blurring my vision. “I told you, this is my spot. You have no right to make me move.” He brought his heavy boot down on my car door. A sickening thud echoed through the garage, leaving a deep dent in the metal. “My right is that I’m your fucking boss right now. Are you moving it or not? The next kick lands on you.” I glanced up at the security camera mounted on the ceiling. “No,” I said, my voice dripping with fury. “Go ahead. Try it. I’ll make sure you rot in a cell.” He spat on the ground, a disgusting glob of yellow phlegm landing on my shoe. “Ooh, a tough little bitch, are we? Fine. I won’t kick you. I’ll just smash your car.” He stomped over to his own vehicle, a massive black Mercedes, and returned a moment later with a baseball bat in his hand. “Last chance. Are you moving the car?” “No.” He raised the bat with a savage grin. “It’s illegal to hit you. But it’s not illegal to smash a piece of junk parked in my spot.” CRUNCH. CRACK. SMASH. He brought the bat down again and again, caving in the front of my car. The thunderous noise set off a sickening chorus of car alarms throughout the garage. A security guard came running, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “What’s going on? What are you two doing in the middle of the night?” 2 Seeing the guard, the tears I’d been holding back finally streamed down my face. The bully, Frank, beat me to it, smoothly offering the guard a cigarette. “Hey, man, sorry about the noise. It’s this little bitch here. Parked in my spot and refuses to move. Stubborn as a mule. You know how these young women are, think they’re princesses and the whole world has to bow down to them.” The guard saw the premium brand of the cigarette and a greedy grin spread across his face. He tucked it behind his ear for later. Then he turned to me, his expression all stern disapproval. “Miss, if you’re in someone else’s spot, just move. There’s no need to make a scene. You young girls are all the same, spoiled rotten. Not everyone in this world is going to coddle you just because you’re a woman. Now move your car and stop causing trouble.” I stared at him, a fire blazing in my chest. “One cigarette is all it takes for you to throw fairness out the window? This spot is mine. Why the hell should I move?” The guard hesitated for a second. Frank scoffed. “She’s a fucking liar. I’ve been parking here since I moved in. How come I’ve never heard it was your spot? Besides, you drive a cheap piece of junk like that, you think you can afford a parking spot that costs more than your car? You’ve gotta be kidding me.” The guard’s eyes flickered between my old, beat-up sedan and Frank’s gleaming Mercedes. It didn’t take him long to make up his mind. “Come on, lady, it’s the middle of the night. Just move it and be done with it. You’re keeping everyone awake over nothing. How can you be so selfish? Look, there are plenty of empty spots over there. Just park in one of those.” “I told you, this spot is mine. I bought it. I’m not moving.” “Oh, so you want to play it that way, huh?” Frank’s face turned purple with rage. He raised the baseball bat again. “You asked for this. I’m going to turn this heap of scrap metal into a fucking pancake.” With a roar, he began smashing my car with a terrifying, relentless fury. I just stood there and watched, my face a cold mask. He went on for a full half-hour, until there wasn’t a single panel on my car left undamaged. “Hello, I need to report an assault. Someone just destroyed my car and…” I had just raised my phone to my ear when the baseball bat swung through the air and connected with the side of my head. For a second, I couldn’t breathe. My world went silent, replaced by a high-pitched ringing. Something warm and wet trickled from my nose. I touched it. Bright red blood. Frank froze, his eyes wide with panic. He dropped the bat. “God damn it, my lucky day. Fine, don’t move it. Fucking bad luck, wasting my time.” The world swayed around me. I slowly crumpled to the ground. The sounds around me seemed muffled, trapped behind a thick wall of glass. The guard waved a hand in front of my face. “Miss? Miss, are you okay?” When I didn’t respond, he panicked and ran. I pulled out my phone and dialed 911, then called for an ambulance. 3 When the police arrived, I vaguely remember trying to explain what happened. Then, I blacked out. When I woke up, it was noon the next day. The doctor told me I had a severely perforated eardrum. The tear was so large it would require surgery to repair. I also had a concussion and needed to rest. After the doctor left, two police officers came in to take my statement. “Didn’t I tell you everything last night?” I asked, confused. The officer shook his head. “You were mostly crying and just kept saying a big man hit you. We didn’t get any other useful information. And the security camera for that area was broken.” My heart sank. The management in my building was usually pretty good about maintenance. How could the camera just happen to be broken? “Was it just that one camera?” The officer nodded. “The property manager thought it was strange too, but that’s the situation. Do you know the man who attacked you?” I shook my head. “Wait. There was a black Mercedes parked next to my spot. It belongs to him. Maybe you can identify him through the car.” “Okay, we’ll look into it. Is there anything else?” I remembered the security guard. I told the police everything. 4 A few days later, the police informed me they couldn’t find the Mercedes in the garage. They couldn’t find the security guard, either. “Are you sure you remember correctly?” one of them asked. I shook my head. How could I forget? The events of that night were burned into my brain. They replayed in my nightmares, waking me up in a cold sweat. Two weeks later, I was discharged from the hospital. The first thing I did was go to the property management office. “Who was the security guard on duty for Building 7 on the night of July 8th?” A young woman with a bob cut helped me. She checked the records. “That was Leo. Do you need to see him?” “Yes,” I nodded. A few moments later, a slightly overweight man walked in. “You were looking for me, ma’am?” I looked at him, and my stomach dropped. It wasn’t him. The guard that night had been tall and skinny, with sly, calculating eyes. “Were you the only one on duty that night?” The man looked annoyed. “One guard for the night shift isn’t enough? What is this about, anyway? The cops have already asked me eight times.” I lowered my head and mumbled an apology. I walked out of the office, feeling completely defeated. Just as I was leaving the building, I saw him. The bully. The man I had been searching for. I calmly dialed the detective in charge of my case and began to follow him, keeping my distance. I waited for him to get on an elevator, then watched the numbers light up. Luckily, he was the only one inside. The elevator stopped on the 18th floor. Our building has two apartments per floor. It wouldn’t be hard to find him. The police arrived shortly after. We went up to the 18th floor and knocked on the first door. An elderly woman answered. After a few questions, she confirmed she was home alone. That meant he lived in the other apartment. My heart pounded as I pressed the doorbell. It rang and rang, but no one answered. My hope began to fade. Unwilling to give up, I held the button down, letting it buzz incessantly. Finally, there was a noise from inside. “Who the hell is it? In such a goddamn hurry to die? Ringing and ringing, you got a problem…” The door flew open. The man froze when he saw us. He recovered quickly, a greasy smile spreading across his face. “Officers. What can I do for you?” “Where were you at 3:30 AM on July 8th?” The man, Frank, scratched his head, putting on a look of simple-minded confusion. “I was at home, sleeping. Why? Did something go missing? Was there a murder?” The officer’s face was grim. “Can anyone verify that?” Frank was smug. “Sure. My wife.” He yelled into the apartment. “Honey, come out here! The police have some questions. We’re law-abiding citizens, gotta cooperate, right?” As he spoke, he shot me a look of pure, unadulterated triumph. “Coming.” A woman, just as large as Frank, emerged from the apartment. “What’s wrong? My husband was home with me all night.” “We haven’t even asked a question yet,” the officer pointed out. “How do you know what we’re here about?” 5 Frank’s wife froze for a second. The color drained from his face. Then she laughed, a little too loudly. “Oh, I heard you from the other room. Weren’t you asking where he was on the night of the 8th? What happened?” I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I pointed at Frank, my voice shaking with rage. “Stop pretending! You’re the one who called me in the middle of the night, and when I wouldn’t move my car, you smashed it to pieces and hit me with a baseball bat! You ruptured my eardrum!” Frank clicked his tongue. “Tsk, tsk. Oh my, who would do such a terrible thing to a young lady? That’s just awful. I feel for you, really. Too bad we can’t find the guy who did it.” His wife was even worse, rolling her eyes at me with contempt. “Listen, girl, I’m not trying to be mean, but why did he hit you and not someone else? Maybe you should think about what you did wrong. Sometimes, if you’re not such a bitch, you don’t get hit.” She covered her mouth in mock surprise. “Oh, sorry. I’m just a little too honest. No offense.” The officer glared at her. “Are you certain your husband was home at 3 AM on July 8th? This is an official inquiry, and we are recording. Lying to an officer is a crime.” Frank’s wife, clearly confident we had no proof, stood her ground. “Don’t worry, officer. We’re good, law-abiding citizens. We would never commit perjury.” “Alright then.” The officer sighed. “We’ll need to see your IDs for our report.” The couple reluctantly handed them over. After we left, the officer told me, “We’ll run a check on any vehicles registered to them. In the meantime, please be careful.” I nodded weakly, all hope draining away. Even if they found the car, what then? People like them would never admit to anything. But a bitter sense of injustice churned in my stomach. Was the victim supposed to just take it, while the attacker walked free? Agitated, I found myself walking down to the parking garage. I stared at the mangled wreck of my car sitting in its spot, a heavy weight pressing down on my chest. It wasn’t an expensive car, and it was a few years old. But I could never bring myself to replace it. I had saved for so long to buy it after graduation. It was my first major purchase. Even later, when I had enough money for a house and a much better car, I couldn’t part with my old partner, the one that had been with me from the very beginning. I ran my hand over the dents and gashes, and the tears I’d been holding back finally broke free. Suddenly, a small light on the dashboard flickered. It was as if my old friend, my silent companion of so many years, was trying to say hello. My mind exploded. How could I have been so stupid? My dashcam. It recorded 24/7. And I had cloud backup, with storage for up to 90 days of footage. 6 I practically flew back to my apartment, memory card in hand. Before I could even plug it in, I got a friend request on my phone. The profile picture was of Frank. The message read: “Accept. Urgent.” My hands trembled as I accepted. Was he here to apologize, knowing about the dashcam? I was wrong. He was here to gloat. “Sucker. You deserved it.” “That’s what you get for taking my spot.” “What’re you gonna do? Cry to the cops again? They can’t do shit without proof. Bet you’re pissed.” My fingers flew across the screen, my knuckles white. “The law has a long arm. You just wait.” He sent back a rolling-eyes emoji. Then came the final, infuriating message. “Hahaha, stay mad. Go on, try and get me arrested. I’ll be waiting. And I know that spot is yours now. Soon as you move that piece of junk, I’m parking there again. Thanks for buying me a parking spot, bitch!” He followed it up by spamming me with a dozen GIFs of a smirking man saying “Thank you!” Then, one last taunt. “Come on, little slut. Call the cops again. I’ll be right here at home, waiting for them to come get me. ;)” “Okay.” I sent the single word, a cold smile on my face, then blocked him. He was so brazen because he knew the number and the social media account were untraceable burners. Fine. I didn’t need trash like him cluttering up my phone anyway. I took a deep breath, plugged the memory card into my laptop, and found the video from that night. “You goddamn bitch! Shameless slut, you dare take my spot? You got a death wish or something?” “She’s a fucking liar. I’ve been parking here since I moved in… Besides, you drive a cheap piece of junk like that, you think you can afford a parking spot that costs more than your car? You’ve gotta be kidding me!” … “You asked for this. I’m going to turn this heap of scrap metal into a fucking pancake.” “God damn it, my lucky day. Fine, don’t move it. Fucking bad luck.” Every frame, every word was captured in crystal clear quality. The video and audio were perfect. I made a copy, grabbed the original memory card, and headed straight for the police station.

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The head table at the Stewart Industries annual gala was a sacred space, reserved exclusively for core family members. So when I walked into the ballroom, I was surprised to see my husband, a man famously aloof, with a young, unfamiliar woman seated beside him. The girl offered a sweet smile and greeted me. “Good evening, Mrs. Stewart. I’m Julian’s new assistant, Alice Reed. It’s my first time at an event like this, so please bear with me.” I glanced at the head table. The seat that should have been mine was now occupied by her. Julian looked up and saw me, his expression unchanged. “Stephenie, this is Alice. I brought her tonight to give her some exposure.” I knew, in that moment, that this man was no longer worth my breath. As Stephenie Stanley, the jewel of the Stanley family, I would never stoop to squabbling over a man with his flavor of the month. It was beneath me. 1 I kept my eyes fixed on Alice. The girl immediately put on a wounded expression. “Mr. Stewart said he was just showing me the ropes… I’ll go find another table right away…” She said the words, but her body remained perfectly still, showing no intention of leaving. I looked at Julian. He was in a hushed conversation with the CFO, completely oblivious to our little drama. Alice added, “I accidentally tore my dress, and Mr. Stewart was kind enough to let me wait here for a replacement.” Only then did I notice the small tear in the hem of her skirt. My heart plunged into an icy abyss. The head table at a Stanley family event was reserved for blood relatives and their spouses. When Julian and I first married, even my own cousin was politely asked to move when he tried to sit there. In the business world, Julian Stewart was known as a block of ice. He kept everyone at a distance, his boundaries absolute. He wouldn’t even clink glasses properly with a female board member he’d worked with for years, let alone arrange for a replacement dress for a junior assistant—such a personal gesture. When had this man, so defined by his principles, started making exceptions for others? I remembered our engagement night, what he told me: “The Stanley family rules are my rules.” The focus in his eyes then had made me believe in him, in his principles. Now, something was silently crumbling. But I, Stephenie Stanley, was no pushover. “Get up.” My voice was quiet, but it cut through the low hum of the head table, silencing it instantly. Alice clearly hadn’t expected me to challenge her so publicly. The hand holding her dinner knife froze over her napkin. “Mrs… Mrs. Stewart…” Her eyes reddened instantly, and she cast a helpless, pleading look at Julian. Julian finally looked up, his brow furrowed. “Stephenie, she’s just sitting here for a moment. It’s not a big deal.” He paused, then added, “She’s just an intern. Don’t make a mountain out of a molehill.” “Julian,” I interrupted, my fingertip tapping lightly on the table. “Do I need to repeat the rules of this family to you?” The entire table held its breath. Alice finally grasped the gravity of the situation. She scrambled to her feet, knocking over a champagne flute in her haste. “I’m… I’m so sorry…” she stammered, a few strands of hair falling from her meticulously styled bun. Julian rubbed his temples. “Just go to the powder room for now.” I watched his attempt to smooth things over and found it utterly laughable. I gestured to the head butler. “Please escort Ms. Reed to one of the side lounges. And have all the place settings at the head table replaced.” As I turned, I caught a glimpse of Alice’s clenched fists, the tips of her ears burning red with humiliation. And Julian? He was checking to see if she’d been cut by the broken glass. “The gala is cancelled,” I announced to the room. “Please, enjoy the rest of your evening.” I walked toward the exit without a backward glance. Julian caught my arm. “Stephenie, are you angry?” “She’s just an intern. Why humiliate her in public?” I looked at the way he was defending her and suddenly wanted to laugh. My husband was pleading with me on behalf of another woman. “Julian,” I said, smoothing a non-existent wrinkle on my sleeve, “are you sure you want to have this conversation here?” He understood my meaning immediately. I was forcing him to choose, right here, in front of everyone: defend the little assistant, or preserve the dignity of our marriage. Julian took my hand and walked with me out of the ballroom. “This is the first time an outsider has ever dared to sit at the Stanley family table.” My voice was soft, but it made Julian’s spine go rigid. He knew exactly what I was referring to. Who in our world didn’t know about Julian Stewart’s boundaries? Countless heiresses and socialites had tried to get close to him, only to be coldly rebuffed. Female assistants sent by business partners never even made it past their probation period. He let out a low chuckle, his fingertips tracing my tense jawline. “So, the great Stephenie Stanley does get jealous?” His warm lips pressed against my forehead. “She’s just a clueless new hire. I’ll have her transferred to a branch office tomorrow.” Julian tilted my face up, his eyes, magnified by his glasses, were focused and deep. “There will only ever be one mistress of my life, and that is you.” I stroked the diamond ring on my finger and said nothing. Don’t disappoint me, Julian. 2 The very next day, Julian disappointed me. I’d seen the way Alice looked at him during the gala, the little spark in her eye that gave away her ambition. I had thought that publically ejecting her from the head table would have been lesson enough. But then I was scrolling through my social media feed this morning and saw Alice’s post from the Maldives. “Thank you, Mr. Stewart, for the special reward! My first time flying first class~” The post included a picture of a first-class boarding pass and a screenshot of her chat with Julian. My fingers trembled uncontrollably. I knew that flight number. It was the route for Julian’s private jet. So, when Julian said “transfer,” he meant a transfer to the Maldives branch office. The bitter irony was that today was supposed to be our wedding anniversary. He had told me yesterday he was too busy with work and we’d have to reschedule. A sharp pain, like a needle, pricked my chest. I grabbed my phone, ready to call him. But then I stopped. To lose my composure over someone like her was beneath me. I dialed my travel agent. “Michael, I need you to book out every single five-star hotel room in Tahiti. For today.” The next day, while Alice was still posting selfies from the Maldives, every single employee in the company—except for her—received an all-expenses-paid, seven-day vacation package to Tahiti from me. Even the cleaning staff got one. My executive assistant, being the pro she is, made sure everyone posted about it. 【Thank you, Mrs. Stewart! This is what it feels like to work for the real boss!~】 【[Heart.jpg] Off to Tahiti!】 The posts were all accompanied by photos of first-class tickets and five-star hotel confirmations. The entire company played along with gleeful enthusiasm. In the corporate world, everyone knows which way the wind blows. Within an hour, the entire business community was buzzing about Stewart Industries’ lavish company retreat. The Director of Marketing posted a video of a stunning blue ocean in the 500-person company-wide group chat and then tagged Alice. 【@AliceReed How come you’re not here? Even the entire finance department made it.】 The chat went silent for three seconds. 【Oh, wait, my bad. I just remembered, I don’t think Alice got a ticket.】 He followed it with a “my lips are sealed” emoji. The group exploded. 【I heard there’s a typhoon in the Maldives right now.】 【The weather here is amazing! I just saw Mrs. Stewart going snorkeling.】 【Alice must be holding down the fort at the office, right? Poor thing, working so hard.】 Reading the messages, a satisfied smile touched my lips. When they all returned a week later, the gossip was still flying. “Did she really think she was the lady of the manor?” “Mrs. Stewart’s move was savage.” “The only person in the entire company left to watch the office… hahaha.” Alice frantically tried to wipe away her tears, accidentally knocking over her makeup bag in the process. The clatter of a lipstick rolling across the floor drew even more knowing glances. When Julian returned, he found Alice standing outside his office, clutching an envelope. “Mr. Stewart,” she said, her voice trembling, “I’d like to transfer you the money for the flight.” Julian frowned and took the ticket receipt. “The company group chat is going crazy.” Tears streamed down Alice’s face. “They’re saying… they’re saying I was the only one left behind…” She choked back a sob and showed him her phone, the screen filled with pictures of her colleagues partying in Tahiti. Alice’s fingers dug into the fabric of her skirt, her voice a barely audible whisper. “I honestly didn’t think Mrs. Stewart would be so upset…” She lifted her red-rimmed eyes, looking like a frightened rabbit. “Mr. Stewart, I’m willing to apologize to her in person… I’ll get on my knees and beg for her forgiveness if that’s what it takes.” Julian rubbed his temples. He never looked at employee social media, but the corporate retreat report from HR was currently flooding his inbox with pictures of Tahiti. A report in which Alice Reed was conspicuously absent. “Come home with me,” he said.

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Three years after breaking up with Asher Vance, his socialite mother tracked me down. She claimed he’d become a worthless degenerate and begged me to “save him.” I found him at a club, surrounded by sycophants as he flirted with girls. He froze when he saw me—then sneered. “Want me back? Get on your knees first.” I slapped him hard. Text suddenly scrolled across my vision: [Is this side character insane? Slapping the male lead!] [Our sweet heroine Claire would never act like this!] [Disobedient women deserve to die!] Asher’s face burned red with rage… Then he gritted out, “…Sorry.” The club fell silent. They’d forgotten—three years ago, I’d trained this young master to be my most obedient dog. 1 The day Asher’s socialite mother found me, I was finalizing my plans to study abroad. “Vera, please, I’m begging you. Go back to Asher and save him.” We met at the same café as last time. She got straight to the point, squeezing out a few crocodile tears. “Ever since you two broke up three years ago, he’s been spiraling. Now, he’s a completely degenerate heir who does nothing but party and waste his life away. That boy has been spoiled since birth. His father and I can’t get through to him at all. If he keeps going like this, he’ll be completely ruined!” I stirred my coffee, listening to her entire speech before letting a small, amused smile touch my lips. Because it was this same woman, in this same café, who had thrown a check at my face three years ago and demanded I leave Asher. She had arrogantly called me a gold-digging nobody, unworthy of trying to control her son. That men were born to be on top of women. That I should spend less time social climbing and more time educating myself. That my poverty was a sin and he would be better off without me. She conveniently forgot that it was because of me that Asher had managed to rein in his temper, graduate from college, and was preparing to take over the family business. I looked up at Mrs. Vance, my expression no longer holding the fear and uncertainty of three years prior. It was replaced by a cool, mature composure. “Alright,” I said. “I’ll do it.” Before she could even smile, I delivered the second half of my sentence. “But that comes with a different price tag. How long I stay by his side depends on how much you’re willing to pay. The moment the term is up, I’m gone.” Mrs. Vance’s face turned a sickly green. “Vera, how could you become so mercenary? You can’t put a price on matters of the heart! You’ve disappointed me so much!” I didn’t waste another word. I stood up to leave. Her expression shifted instantly. She scrambled to placate me, fawning and promising to wire the money immediately. I chuckled softly. Kindness gets you bullied. I learned that lesson three years ago. That night, with a five-million-dollar deposit in my account, I found the club where Asher was holding court and pushed open the door to his private room. The noise inside died instantly. All eyes turned to me. 2 Someone barked at me immediately. “Who the hell are you? You think you can just walk in here? Get the hell out!” I ignored the lapdog and scanned the room. It was filled with Asher’s usual cronies, each with a girl in a low-cut dress and a micro-skirt draped over them. Expensive liquor and food littered the table. It was a scene of pure, decadent rot. My gaze landed on Asher, slouched in a corner, leg crossed, a cigarette dangling from his lips. He’d dyed his hair a trendy ash gray and was looking down. Sitting next to him was a girl who was a watered-down version of me. I have an edge of ice; she had an air of innocence. Asher’s childhood friend recognized me, his jaw dropping. “Holy shit! Isn’t that the legendary Ve—” He slapped a hand over his mouth, but it was too late. The moment Asher heard my name, his head snapped up. Our eyes met, and he visibly flinched. The colored lights in the room seemed to dim, and I couldn’t quite make out his expression. When the lights flared back up, his face was a mask of disgust and mockery. Asher leaned back, slinging an arm around the girl beside him. Her cheeks flushed, and she snuggled against him like a delicate bird. A pity Asher didn’t notice her shy display. He was too busy trying to humiliate me. “Well now, look who it is. If it isn’t the gold digger who dumped me for money.” Asher’s eyes raked over me, from head to toe. Seeing not a single luxury brand on me, a smug satisfaction flickered across his face. “Still poor as dirt, Vera. What, you want to get back together? Why don’t you get on your knees and beg?” His friends erupted in jeering laughter. Other than his childhood friend, none of them knew who I was. Their insults were sharp and cruel. “Damn, what kind of idiot dumps a guy like Asher for money? If I were a girl, I’d be licking his boots every day. He could hit me, slap me, I wouldn’t care. I’d call him daddy!” “This chick is just trying to cash in, right? Why does she look so much like Claire? Is that a nose job? Jesus, can you stop with the desperate tactics? You’re not even fit to lick Claire’s shoes. She’s the one who deserves to be Asher’s wife!” Claire. That must be the girl’s name. As pure as it sounded. Hearing these words, Claire looked at me from the safety of Asher’s embrace with a sort of pity, hiding a sliver of triumph and disdain. She probably pitied me for going so far as to get plastic surgery to look like her, just to get close to Asher. And yet, I wasn’t even worthy of sitting beside him. Among them all, only Asher’s childhood friend remained silent, his eyes darting nervously between Asher and me. He opened his mouth as if to explain something, but someone else’s loud jeer drowned him out. Just then, the stream of text appeared before my eyes. [The villainess finally makes her entrance. Supposedly she’s the male lead’s ‘one that got away,’ but she doesn’t look like much. Way worse than our girl Claire.] [Don’t worry, she’ll be gone in a flash. The male lead has already forgotten her. He won’t give her the time of day.] [I always laugh at this part of the story. The side character tries to politely talk the male lead into going back to work, but he won’t even look at her. It’s so humiliating, hahaha!] Honestly, I had planned on being civil with Asher. It was our first time seeing each other in three years, after all. But after reading those comments, I changed my mind. Too much time had passed. Someone had clearly forgotten the rules. He needed a reminder. Asher was still preening, turning to praise his lackey for the insults, when a large shadow fell over him. I was standing right in front of him. I raised my hand high. And brought it down, hard, across his face. CRACK! The room went dead silent. 3 For a few seconds, everyone was frozen, as if someone had hit pause. Mouths hung open wide enough to fit an egg. Claire was the first to react. She glared at me, her eyes brimming with tears of indignation. “Miss, how could you hit him? Have you no decency? Even if you have a poor education and no manners, that’s no excuse to come here and harass people! Mr. Vance is not in your league!” What a masterful takedown, all without a single curse word. I found it amusing. Such a righteous little defender. Funny how she seemed to be enjoying it when they were slandering and insulting me just a moment ago. A selective sense of justice, reserved exclusively for men. [Ahhh, this bitch of a villainess is insane! Does she have a death wish, hitting a powerful male lead like that? She scared our precious heroine! Good job scolding her, sweetie! You were too gentle, though. Next time, tear her apart!] [This moron who’s doomed to die in three chapters is supposed to be his great love? More like a bad memory! With the male lead’s temper, he’s going to beat her face in!] [See, our girl Claire is gentle and considerate. The perfect little wife, born for him. She never talks back, she’s as obedient as a kitten. It’s obvious who anyone with a brain would choose, right?] [No wonder she’s the evil side character! Women who are greedy and disobedient are the worst. A woman’s greatest asset is her willingness to please a man. I hope she dies soon. Can’t wait for the male lead to lose it!] I was astonished. If being a fawning, submissive wife was what it took to be the heroine, then I was perfectly happy being the evil side character. What was a man? A creature born to serve women. They were that eager to see Asher lose his temper with me? I smiled faintly. Then I’m afraid you’re all in for a disappointment. I looked down at Asher from my superior height and said, word by word, “Apologize. To me.” A blond guy next to him spat and stood up, pointing a finger in my face. “Who the hell do you think you’re talking—” “Shut your mouth!” Asher’s roar cut the man off. The red handprint was still stark against his handsome, pale face, his eyes were crimson with fury. He met my gaze, and I saw the glint of tears in the corner of his eyes. But he gritted his teeth and forced out the words. “I’m… sor… ry.” The entire room was in shock. Asher’s friend muttered in terror. “Shit… it’s over… the only demon in the world who can control Asher is really back…” I nodded, satisfied. I was beginning to think they’d all forgotten. This young master of the Vance family had been trained, three years ago, to be my most obedient dog. 4 “All of you, get out!” When Asher gave an order, no one dared to disobey. Everyone except Claire scrambled out of the room, tripping over each other in their haste. The gossip about the young master getting slapped would probably be all over their social circle before long. Seeing that I wasn’t leaving, Claire frowned. “Miss, please leave! Didn’t you hear Mr. Vance? Can’t you show a little basic courtesy, or did you really drop out of high school?” Asher, dizzy with anger, snapped, “I was talking to you. Get out. Now.” Claire froze, her face crumpling as tears streamed down her cheeks. Though they weren’t officially together, it was clear she had already cast herself in the role of Asher’s girlfriend. She shot me a resentful glare, the kind you give the other woman, before running out of the room crying, her retreating figure like a fragile white flower. Nice. Very delicate. Too bad Asher was completely immune to such charms. He didn’t even glance her way. [What is the male lead doing?! How could he kick out his future wife? Shouldn’t he have yelled at the side character and comforted her?!] [This has nothing to do with the side character. It’s definitely because our girl said a few extra words to the second male lead yesterday, and our male lead saw and got jealous.] [Our male lead is such a little jealous baby! I hope he figures out his feelings soon and makes it up to Claire!] [But I’m still a little mad that he’s using the side character to make Claire jealous. Ugh, is he really letting this bitch get away with it?] [Don’t worry, our male lead knows what he’s doing. He would never let the side character touch a hair on his head. This is all just an act.] After enjoying their ridiculous mental gymnastics, I sat down across from Asher. “Your taste has changed?” Asher looked at me mournfully, ignoring my question. “Weren’t you going abroad? What are you doing here?” I raised an eyebrow. “How did you know I was going abroad?” Asher was speechless. “I…” “Paying such close attention to me… you’re not still in love with me, are you?” I leaned forward, my gaze invasive. The familiar pressure washed over him. Asher instinctively looked away, the tips of his ears turning red, but his mouth was still stubborn. “Who’s in love with you? That’s hilarious. It’s been 1,186 days. I’ve already forgotten all about you!” A smirk played on my lips as I stood up. “Alright. Well, I forgot to tell you, I moved my things back into the apartment we used to live in. Since you’re not interested, I guess I’ll just have to live there by myself.” Asher shot to his feet, his expression a complex mix of emotions. “You never ended the lease on that place? For three years?” I gave him a meaningful look without saying a word and pushed open the door to leave. He started yelping behind me like a desperate puppy. “Hey, hey! We can talk about this, don’t be in such a rush to leave! I never said I wouldn’t go! Dammit, you abandoned me for three years, can’t you at least pretend to beg me a little? Vera, get back here!” The corners of my mouth lifted. I leaned against the wall outside and lit a cigarette. After my foster mother passed away, I’d picked up the habit of having one occasionally. I watched the smoke curl slowly upwards, listening to Asher’s soft, excited muttering from inside the room. “Thank you, God, Jesus, Mary, and all the saints, she really came back for me…” I lowered my eyes, hiding the look in them. You fool. It wasn’t a god who answered your prayers. It was your mother’s money. 5 Asher and I met in college and were together for five years. During that time, he had countless falling-outs with his family. When a rich kid gets his allowance cut off, he’s just as broke as anyone else. So we rented a tiny one-bedroom apartment and lived there together for three years. After we broke up, I never canceled the lease. I would even come by occasionally to clean. If I had to give a reason, it was probably because after my foster mother died, it was the only place I had left that I could call “home.” I never expected it would come in handy like this. When Asher walked into the apartment and I saw the nostalgic, pained look on his face, I didn’t bother to explain the real reason. After all, I was only here for the money. Why would I say anything that didn’t benefit me? Letting him think I was nostalgic for him wasn’t a bad thing. It had only been a week since my last cleaning, so the place was spotless, preserved exactly as it was when we were in love. Asher did a slow circle of the room before turning to face the wall. As he turned, I caught the glint of red in his eyes. I knew he was already lost in his own world of romantic fantasies. Let him be. I was exhausted from the long day. I dragged my suitcase into the bedroom. Asher tried to follow me, but the door slammed shut with a decisive thud, mercilessly blocking him out. When I opened the door again in my pajamas, he was still standing there, his head hung in disappointment. If he had a tail, it would have been drooping. I tossed a set of clean men’s pajamas onto the sofa. “Change into these.” He looked up, his eyes bright, his imaginary tail wagging like a propeller. I added, “I’m sleeping in the bedroom tonight. You’re on the sofa.” And just like that, the tail drooped again. When Asher came out of the bathroom in his pajamas, I almost whistled. They say your face reflects your soul, and for someone as naive and innocent as Asher, it meant he looked young. Even after all these years since graduation, with his hair combed down, he looked as fresh as a college student. And I suspected he’d left the top buttons of his pajama shirt undone on purpose. It was a convenient way to show off his chiseled eight-pack and the V-line of his abs. Add to that his pale skin and the rivulets of water trailing down his chest, and from a purely aesthetic standpoint, I had to admit it was incredibly sexy and tempting. But I hadn’t forgotten my purpose. A financial relationship was better kept simple. I didn’t want to invite unnecessary complications. I calmly turned around, went back into my room, and got into bed. Crack. I thought I heard the sound of a young man’s heart breaking behind me. That night, for the first time in a long time, I slept well. I usually have trouble sleeping, but strangely, I always slept soundly when I was with Asher. Maybe it was because he was so simple-minded that I couldn’t bring myself to put up my guard. I don’t like enclosed spaces, so I left the bedroom door open. When I got up in the middle of the night, I tripped over something almost immediately. I turned on the lamp and froze. Asher was curled up on the cold floor beside my bed, with only his jacket for a mattress. Snapping out of my daze, I crouched down and stared at him, thinking, Is he going to start talking in his sleep now? “Vera… don’t leave me… can we please get back together…” Ha. I knew it. I leaned in close to his ear, my dark hair brushing against his cheek. “Asher, you’re a really bad actor.” Asher’s face turned visibly red. Perhaps he knew that when it came to intelligence, we weren’t in the same league. I had always been able to see right through him. “Then what’s your answer?” Asher threw caution to the wind and opened his eyes. They were as dark and deep as ink. “Let’s get back together. Forget the past and start over.”

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At my own birthday party, I was made to wear the late lady of the house’s sapphire necklace. The moment my ten-year-old son saw it, he shoved me down the stairs. He glared down at me, his eyes burning with hate, and ordered the butler to take the necklace from me. “I knew you were up to no good! You pretend to be so gentle and kind, but you’ve always wanted to replace my mother!” “Just wait until Dad gets home! I’ll make him throw you out!” Warm blood trickled from my forehead, a stark contrast to the ice forming around my heart. I looked at the child I had cared for for a decade. With a sigh of release, I nodded. “You don’t have to wait for him. I’ll leave now.” … Taking the towel our housekeeper offered, I pressed it to the gash on my head and started to go upstairs to change. But Ryan spread his arms, blocking the staircase. “Didn’t you say you were leaving? Then go! Why are you still going upstairs?” he snarled, his eyes wide with contempt. The face I knew so well was twisted with hatred. “I need to change my clothes,” I said, my voice calm. My gown was torn and spattered with blood. It would be humiliating to walk out like this. Ryan’s eyes raked over me, and he scoffed. “You’re so greedy. You wouldn’t even be wearing a dress that expensive if it wasn’t your birthday. What else do you think you deserve to change into?” “You sit at home all day doing nothing! All you know is how to ask my dad for money to buy this and that! And now you’re stealing my mom’s necklace!” “You want to leave? Then get out! Get out now!” Seeing his resolute stance, I sighed again. “Fine. I won’t change. Just let me go up and get Daisy.” Daisy was a cat I had rescued. When I found her in a storm, her umbilical cord was still attached. It took a great deal of effort to nurse her back to health. Ryan blocked me again. “You’re not going upstairs! The cat? I’ll get it for you!” He stomped up the stairs and quickly returned with the cat. He stood on the second-floor landing, holding Daisy out over the railing. A malicious grin spread across his face. “What if I just drop her from here?” he taunted. “You rolled down the stairs and didn’t die. The cat probably won’t either, right?” Before the words had even faded, he let go. Ignoring my own injuries, I lunged forward, trying to break her fall. Daisy was usually so gentle, but now, terrified, her claws shot out, scratching deep lines into my arms and chest. She screeched, scrambled out of my arms, and fled to a corner to hide. Seeing me clutch my bleeding wounds, my face contorted in pain, Ryan burst out laughing from the top of the stairs. “Hahahaha! Serves you right! Who told you to catch that thing? It’s just an ugly stray. Only trash like you would care about it.” I stared at Daisy, trembling in the corner, and said nothing. I had raised Ryan until he was seven, when his father, Ethan, suddenly took him away. He said Ryan was starting elementary school and that I, a high-school dropout, wasn’t qualified to educate him. He sent him to live with another woman. Seven years had woven that child into the very marrow of my bones. Tearing him away was an agony I could barely survive. After my pleas went unanswered, I snuck out to see him on his birthday. When I got there, I saw Ryan sitting on the other woman’s lap, cooing and kissing her cheeks. All the stubborn defiance he showed me was gone. The moment he saw me, he buried his face in her neck, clinging to her as if terrified I would drag him away. Ethan emerged from his study and immediately reprimanded me. “Who let you come here? Leave. Now.” They were a family of three. I was the outsider. It was during the rainstorm on my way home that day that I found Daisy. Her companionship over the next three years slowly began to fill the hollow space in my heart. I silently walked to the corner, soothed Daisy, and picked her up to leave. But Ethan was standing in the doorway. I don’t know how long he’d been watching. The same annoyance was etched on both the father’s and the son’s faces. Seeing my disheveled state, he frowned with impatience. “Alright, that’s enough. Go change your clothes, and then apologize to Ryan.” “Make sure you wear a long-sleeved gown.” “If the guests see your injuries and start gossiping, you’ll embarrass me again!” “And one more thing.” “Don’t you ever touch Lydia’s things again. Or I’ll throw you out of this house for good.” Like father, like son. Even their threats were identical. Blood dripped from my forehead. The scratches on my arms were stark and red. They didn’t ask if I was okay, only that I be presentable for the rest of the party. When I didn’t move, Ethan’s tone softened for some reason. “Fine. I’ll buy you a new set of jewelry tomorrow. Now go and take care of your injuries.” His gaze shifted to the cat in my arms. “That’s not a purebred, and it’s clearly not tame. Get rid of it. I’ll buy you a new one.” His tone, as always, allowed no room for argument. Just like when he had suddenly taken Ryan away, and just as suddenly brought the boy, now full of hatred for me, back home. He had never given me a chance to object. But suddenly, I was tired. For the first time, I refused. “No.” The air went still. Ethan looked at me as if he couldn’t believe his ears. His voice rose. “What did you say? No?” I looked him straight in the eye and nodded calmly. “Yes. I said no.” From twenty to thirty, I had given the best ten years of my life to this family. Day after day of raising a child, caring for Ethan, slowly watching my own youth fade. And in the end, there was nothing that was truly mine. Except for Daisy. I could only take Daisy. Ethan’s face immediately turned to ice. He called to the butler standing by the stairs. “Get that cat out of her arms and throw it out. Then take her upstairs to change.” “Dad!” “That’s enough, Ryan. Be a good boy and don’t make a scene tonight. How about I take you to see Aunt Anya tomorrow morning?” “…Okay, fine. But if this woman steals Mom’s things again, you have to kick her out!” “Alright, alright.” The father and son decided my nonexistent future right in front of me, as if I wasn’t there. I laughed at myself. Haven’t I always been treated this way? I was always just Lydia’s shadow. Ethan and the original Lydia had been childhood sweethearts. They married right after college. A year later, she was pregnant. But she suffered an amniotic fluid embolism during childbirth. They exhausted the city’s blood banks, but couldn’t save her. Ethan was devastated, completely incapable of caring for the newborn. Lydia’s family, afraid a new wife would mistreat the child, found me. I was desperate for money for my mother’s surgery, on the verge of selling a kidney. They told me I was also her father’s child—an illegitimate daughter. They offered me the money for my mother’s medical bills. In exchange, I had to go to the Ethan’s house, raise the child, and hold the position of lady of the house in Lydia’s place. I agreed. And so, I stayed for ten years. I was a mother, a nanny, a secretary. Even a bedmate. I exhaled, as if trying to expel all the bitterness and injustice of the past. Dodging the butler’s outstretched hands, I raised my voice, my tone firm. “Mr. Croft, I said, I’m leaving.” “Ryan is ten years old now. You have someone you love. There’s no need for me to stay here any longer.” “The deal we made is finished!” Ethan took a step forward, grabbing my face, his grip unyielding despite my injuries. “Elara, have I been too soft on you? Have you gotten bold?” “What is it you want? The sapphire necklace? Or the title of Mrs. Croft?!” “Mr. Croft, my name is not Lydia. It’s Elara.” Lydia wasn’t my name. The family had given it to me, so Ethan would never forget the woman he’d lost. “I’m not trying to blackmail you. I truly believe there’s no reason for me to stay.” “Thank you for the birthday party. I regret that I won’t be able to attend the rest of it.” I pulled his slackening hand away, bowed my head to him in thanks while clutching my cat, then straightened up and walked towards the door. “Lydia, you’re thirty years old and still so naive! Without this family, you are nothing!” “Then I’m nothing.” The name wasn’t mine. The child wasn’t mine. The husband wasn’t mine. You see, I was nothing to begin with. My entire existence here was just a transaction. Ten years was long enough. I didn’t want to be Lydia anymore. I wanted to be Elara, the person I had almost forgotten. Just then, an angry, childish voice yelled from the second floor. “Lydia!” I hesitated, but still turned back. One last look, as a final farewell. But a toy airplane was hurtling straight for my face. I couldn’t dodge in time. It slammed into my forehead. “Ah!” Fresh blood poured from the wound, and the impact sent me sprawling to the ground. From the second floor, Ryan, holding the remote control, cackled with glee, completely unfazed by the fact that the toy he’d just used as a weapon was one I had bought for him. “Hahahaha, you stupid woman! Go on, get out!” “After you’re gone, I’ll have my dad marry Aunt Anya!” “You’re a thirty-year-old hag! If it weren’t for the Crofts giving you scraps to eat, you’d be a prostitute by now! You think anyone would ever call you Mrs. Croft?” Ethan stood by, watching coldly, saying nothing. I silently pushed myself up and took one last look at the boy. Then I turned and left. Ten years, and I had nothing to show for it. After leaving the Croft estate, I had nowhere to go. My mother had passed away in my second year there. As for the Lin family, I had never been to their home, nor did I want to. With a sigh, I first went to a clinic to get my injuries treated, then took Daisy and checked into a furnished apartment I’d seen near the hospital. By the time I was settled, it was midnight. I picked up my phone and saw a dozen abusive messages from Ryan. I considered sending him an explanation about the necklace, but found I was already blocked. I had expected it, so there was no real disappointment. But my departure had been so abrupt. As Ethan’s unofficial private secretary, there was still work I hadn’t handed over. Many clients were still sending files to me. The next morning, I went to Ethan’s company. “I’m so sorry, Miss… Lin,” the receptionist said, bowing with an apologetic and awkward air. “Mr. Croft just informed us this morning that you are no longer permitted to enter the building freely, so…” I gave her a reassuring smile. “It’s fine. Could you please just call the CEO’s office? Tell them I have some work to hand over…” Before I could finish, a wave of expensive perfume washed over me from behind. The impeccably dressed Miss Anya came to a stop beside me. “No need to call,” she told the receptionist. “I’ll take her up.” In the elevator, it was just the two of us. Anya’s face wore a perfectly polite smile as she stared ahead. “Miss Lin, I thought you were a person of some dignity. I assumed that after being kicked out, you wouldn’t show your face here again.” “But you’re more thick-skinned than I imagined.” “To come back looking for Ethan, so brazenly.” “Then again, a woman in her thirties… you’re too old to even be a mistress. I suppose you have to cling to Ethan for dear life.” “But let me be clear, Miss Lin.” “I made you leave once. I can make you leave a second time.” I had heard that Anya had been in love with Ethan since they were young. She went to study abroad after high school, only to return and find him already married and then widowed. I, the substitute, was by his side. She had remained unmarried all these years, and anyone with eyes could see she was waiting for him. Ethan knew it, too. That was why he had sent Ryan to her for a time. I ignored the venom in her words and explained quietly, “There are just some work matters to hand over. I…” Anya held up a hand to silence me and answered her phone. “Ryan, sweetie! Auntie is at your dad’s office. Have you eaten yet?” “Of course! Let’s have lunch together, and this afternoon, your dad and I can take you to the amusement park, how about that?” “Auntie misses you too! Oh, by the way, your… other mother is right here with me. Do you want to say hello?” Anya glanced at me, a smirk playing on her lips as she held the phone out to me. I hesitated, then took it. “Hello…” “You witch! What are you doing at my dad’s company?! Are you hitting on my dad again? Have you no shame?!” “You talked a big game yesterday, but not even a full day later you’re already desperate for a man, is that it?” “If you want a man so badly, hang a sign around your neck that says ‘I’m a slut, I need a man,’ and go stand on the street!” “I’m telling you, Dad, Aunt Anya, and I are a family! You just get as far away from us as you can!” Anya had put the call on speaker. Ryan’s raw, unfiltered rage echoed through the small elevator. I bowed my head in humiliation, blinking back tears. Not because of his malice, but because I’d just heard him sweetly call Anya “Mom,” begging her to come see him. I remembered when he was just over a year old, the first time he had called me “Mama.” He had thrown himself into my arms, laughing, kissing my cheek. My own mother had just passed away, and it was his tiny presence that had soothed my grief. I handed the phone back to Anya and listened in silence as she said her loving goodbyes to Ryan. The elevator doors opened. Anya walked out as if nothing had happened, knocked on the CEO’s office door, and went inside. “Ethan.” Hearing her voice, Ethan’s furrowed brow relaxed. But the moment he saw me, it creased again. “What are you doing here? Didn’t I tell the front desk not to let you up?” “I brought her,” Anya said smoothly. “She claimed she had work to hand over. She looked so pitiful, I thought I’d help her out.” “Anya, you’re too kind,” Ethan said. “What work could she possibly have? A high-school dropout—can she even read? She takes the trivial tasks I gave her and acts like they’re important.” I was a high-school dropout. When I was sixteen, my mother was diagnosed with cancer. With no savings, I had to quit school to work. My homeroom teacher told me the school could raise funds for me, that it was a waste for a student with my grades to drop out. But my mother needed someone to care for her. After much deliberation, I left school. “Leo, you handle the handover with her,” Ethan commanded. “Get it done today. And then inform the entire company that she is not to be allowed in here again.” He stood up from his chair and walked towards me, his presence looming. “Lydia, you’d better mean what you say.” “If I find out this is just some ploy to get back in my good graces, don’t blame me for being ruthless.” Perhaps it was because of my injuries, but when the scent of his cologne hit me, a wave of nausea washed over me. I clamped a hand over my mouth and ran for the restroom. When I came out, Leo, his assistant, was there with a handkerchief. “Are you alright?” I nodded, wiping the water from my lips. “I’m fine. We can do the handover now.” “Of course, Miss Lin. This way, please.” Leo was as gentle as ever, not looking down on me because of what had happened in the office. He had always been like this. When others would whisper and mock me for my background and lack of education, he always treated me with kindness and offered his help. On impulse, I called out to him. “Assistant Leo, actually!” The moment the words were out, I regretted them. But under his encouraging gaze, I finished my thought. “I… my name isn’t Lydia. My real name is Elara. After today, I might move to a new city.” “So, before I leave, I wanted to tell you my real name.” Leo looked at me for a moment, and a small, genuine smile touched his lips. “Of course, Miss Elara.”

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In my third year married to Collin, I learned I couldn’t have children—a permanent, irreversible defect. Grief consumed me, but Collin suggested adoption. At the agency, we met a sweet, well-behaved girl. I adored her instantly. But on signing day, I noticed a tiny birthmark on her hand. “I don’t want her,” I said. Collin insisted, “We’re adopting her.” “Then I want a divorce.” Shocked silence filled the room. “Over a birthmark?” Collin asked, disbelieving. “Yes. It’s ugly.” His mother snapped, “You’re the problem! You can’t have kids, and now you’re rejecting her over a mark a doctor could remove?” Collin pleaded, “We’ll get it removed. She’s lovely—is this worth the drama?” I laughed bitterly. “After we divorce, adopt her. Adopt as many as you want. I won’t care.” 1 Collin looked at me, his face a mask of bewilderment. “Lily! What the hell is going on? You’re throwing our marriage away for a child you’ve met twice? What did she do to upset you? This is insane.” I locked eyes with him, my voice devoid of all emotion. “It’s her or me. Choose.” He looked at me as if I were a stranger. Shock radiated from him. “She’s just a child, Lily. A little girl who’s already been abandoned once. How can you be so cruel? She can’t help her birthmark.” “Fine,” I cut him off. “Divorce it is.” The color drained from Collin’s face. I said nothing more. The air in the agency turned to ice. The staff exchanged nervous glances until the director finally broke the silence. “Mrs. Hayes,” she began gently, “Rosie is the sweetest child we have. She never makes a fuss, and she’s always helping the other children. We’ve had other potential families, but she never seemed to connect with them. She really took a liking to you.” My father-in-law tried to play peacemaker. “Lily, dear, she seems like a wonderful kid. And with modern medicine, if that mark bothers you, it’s an easy fix.” I remained silent, my resolve hardening with every word they spoke. Collin moved closer, his hand reaching for mine, his touch hesitant. “Can we please just go home and talk about this?” His voice was thick with a plea, a raw, wounded sound I’d rarely heard. I snatched my hand away, leaving him no room for hope. “There’s nothing to talk about. I’ll have my lawyer draft the papers. Make sure you’re ready to sign them.” His mother gasped, her eyes wide with fury. “How dare you? You’ve been married into our family for three years without a single sign of a baby, and now we know why. We try to find a solution, and you throw it in our faces.” She jabbed a finger at me. “I never knew you were such a petty, vindictive woman. Are you trying to make sure the Hayes family line dies out?” She started dredging up the past, her voice rising with every grievance. “Remember all those times you wanted a midnight snack? My son got up to cook for you, no matter how late, without a single complaint. You loved that one bakery downtown, so he stood in line for an hour every single day to buy you a cake. Do you have a heart? We have treated you so well, and all I want is a grandchild. What good are you if you can’t even give me that?” She clutched her chest, her words painting me as an ungrateful monster. I grabbed my purse to leave. Just then, the little girl, Rosie, stepped toward me, her eyes wide and hopeful. “Mommy,” she whispered. A wave of revulsion washed over me. I pushed her away. Collin’s sister, Pathy, caught her before she fell. “Lily! She’s just a child! So you don’t like her birthmark, but did you have to push her?” she scolded. “Why are you taking your anger out on her? All she wants is a family. What did she do wrong by calling you ‘Mommy’?” I shot her a cold glance. “You can let her call you that.” Pathy’s face went pale, and she started stammering. “What are you talking about, Lily? This is the child you and my brother were adopting.” “And you know it’s our adoption, so why are you so involved?” My retort silenced her. She bit her lip, unable to respond. “Enough!” Collin’s voice trembled. “Honey, please, can we just talk about this in private? I’ve already told everyone we were doing this today. Just sign the papers, for me. Please. Give me that much. You can scream at me all you want when we get home.” “No,” I said flatly. “Sign the divorce papers.” I turned to walk away. Behind me, there was a heavy thud. Collin had fallen to his knees in front of everyone. 2 “Please, Lily. Just sign,” he begged, clutching at my legs, refusing to let me leave. His mother was beside herself, on the verge of fainting as she shrieked at him to get up. In all our years together, through all our fights, no matter how vicious, he had never knelt before. They say a man’s pride is in his knees, and here Collin was, sacrificing his for a child who wasn’t even ours. Collin, do you really want her that badly? I glanced over at the girl, now hiding in Pathy’s arms. So beautiful. So adorable. So much like her. A dark, humorless laugh bubbled up inside me. I bent down and, one by one, pried his fingers from my leg. “Don’t make a scene.” My coldness finally broke him. His eyes reddened, and tears streamed down his face. I looked around the room. The well-behaved child. The furious mother-in-law. The silent onlookers. And my kneeling husband. Somehow, I had become the villain in this story. The monster who would destroy a three-year marriage over a pea-sized birthmark. “My answer is the same,” I said, my voice steady. “Divorce.” Then, without a backward glance, I walked out. I went home alone and called my lawyer to draft the papers. It was late when the rest of the family finally returned, their arms laden with shopping bags filled with gifts, their voices echoing with laughter. Rosie was in the center of it all, the star of the show, being ushered in like a princess. The moment Collin walked in and saw me sitting in the living room, the smile vanished from his face. “Honey,” he started, treading carefully. “The director said Rosie could stay with us for a few days. I know you don’t like her, so don’t worry, I’ll take her back soon.” I avoided his gaze. “No need. Let her stay.” His face lit up. “Really? You’ve changed your mind?” I slapped the divorce papers down on the coffee table with a resounding thud. “Sign them.” He shook his head, his expression crumpling into one of pure desperation. “Lily, I’m sorry. If you don’t want to adopt, we won’t. Please, just don’t divorce me. I can’t live without you. Why, Lily? Why are you doing this?” His mother pulled him back. “Are you cheating on him? Is this your scheme to leave my son with no heir?” she shrieked. “Since you married into this family, have I ever mistreated you? When you couldn’t get pregnant, I never said a word, afraid I’d upset you. I’m an old woman now! All I want is a grandchild to hold, someone to call me Grandma. Is that so wrong?” She grew more and more agitated, tears streaming down her face as she accused me. Just then, Pathy, holding Rosie, walked over and suddenly knelt before me. “Lily, I know we were lucky when you married into our family,” she said, her voice trembling pitifully. “You were born with a silver spoon in your mouth, a true princess, and we’re just an ordinary family. You’ve never known what it’s like to be homeless, but I have. I know what it feels like to not have a family. It’s so painful, I even thought about killing myself.” She continued, her performance worthy of an Oscar. “I just can’t bear to see her go through the same thing. I know you look down on unwanted children like us. And I know you’ve told my brother many times that you don’t like me. If you’ll just take her in, I’ll leave this house right now and never come back.” Her words were so pathetic, so heart-wrenching. I snapped. I swung my hand and slapped her hard across the face. “Don’t you know exactly why I don’t want this child?” I seethed. Collin shot to his feet. Before I could process it, the back of his hand cracked across my face. The force sent me tumbling off the sofa, my head smacking against the sharp corner of the coffee table. The world spun, a dizzying blur, and then I felt something warm and wet trickle past my eye. “Lily, I’m so sorry,” he stammered, staring at his own hand in horror. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean to.” He rushed to my side, trying to press his hand against the wound. I shoved him away, grabbed my purse, and headed for the door. My father-in-law’s voice boomed behind me. “You walk out that door, you’re never welcome back in this house! You’ll leave this marriage with nothing!” 3 I stumbled back to my parents’ house, exhausted and bruised. My mother gasped when she saw me, pulling me into a hug. “Honey, what happened to your face? Where’s Collin? Didn’t he come with you?” I buried my face in her shoulder, and the tears I’d been holding back finally broke free. “Did you and Collin have a fight? What happened?” she murmured, stroking my hair as the floodgates of my misery burst open. “Mom,” I sobbed, “that child…” I told them everything. When I finished, they stared at me in stunned silence. “I can’t believe Collin is that kind of person,” my father finally roared. “How could he do something so despicable?” “Divorce him,” my mother said, her voice firm. “We don’t want a penny from that family. We don’t need their money.” My father was so furious he wanted to storm over to their house and confront them, but I held him back. The next day, I went to Collin’s office to retrieve the unsigned divorce papers. I rode the elevator to the top floor and pushed open the door to his office without knocking. Inside, he and Pathy were laughing, playing with Rosie. The moment Collin saw me, he shot to his feet. His eyes, filled with pity, went straight to the cut on my forehead. “Lily, I’m so sorry about yesterday. I wasn’t thinking.” “You know how much Pathy means to our family,” he pleaded. “She’s always been the favorite. I just can’t stand to see her get hurt.” He took my hand and tried to slap himself with it. “It was my fault. I lost my head. Hit me. Do whatever you need to do to feel better.” I pulled my hand away. “I’m here for the papers,” I said, my voice flat. “What is wrong with you, Lily? What happened? Just talk to me, please.” In just two days, I felt like my entire life’s energy had been drained. “I just want a divorce. I’m tired, Collin. I don’t love you anymore.” He just shook his head, refusing to hear it. “That’s not possible. What did I do wrong? I’ll fix it, whatever it is. You’re lying. You can’t just stop loving me. If you don’t like her, we won’t adopt her. No kids, I don’t care. I just want you.” He pulled me into a crushing hug, so tight I felt like he was trying to merge my body with his. “Collin! Don’t you understand English?” I shoved him back. “I want one thing. A divorce!” I enunciated each word. “Or do you want me to start listing all the filthy things you’ve done?” His calm facade cracked. For a split second, I saw a flash of panic in his eyes. “What did I do wrong, Lily? Just tell me, and I’ll change.” Pathy cut in. “Just let her go, brother. She’s an ungrateful snake. She’s forgotten every good thing you’ve ever done for her. Her conscience has been eaten by a dog. What were you thinking, marrying a high-maintenance woman like her?” Collin spun around and slapped her. Pathy staggered back, clutching her cheek in disbelief. “Apologize to your sister-in-law,” he commanded. Pathy stubbornly turned her head away, tears welling in her eyes. “If you won’t sign,” I said, my voice dangerously calm, “I’ll see you in court.” With that, I walked out of his office. As the elevator descended, I could hear people whispering behind my back, their eyes darting from me to their phones. I snatched a phone from one of them. “What are you all gossiping about?” The company group chat was buzzing with notifications. “I heard the little girl is the CEO’s daughter. He admitted it himself.” “The wife is being so unreasonable. Who even notices a birthmark that small?” “That kid is adorable. So sweet. I’d adopt her in a heartbeat. I can’t believe someone could be so cruel.” “Well, it’s her own fault she can’t have kids. Now she’s taking it out on a child. The CEO really has it rough, married to a shrew like that.” Suddenly, a message from Pathy appeared: “Anyone who spreads rumors will be fired.” The chat went silent. I sneered. So Pathy was the big boss now, was she? She’d really leveraged her position to become Collin’s executive assistant. 4 A few days later, I came home to find a mountain of trash piled outside my front door. It was everything I owned from the Hayes’ house, dumped unceremoniously on the pavement. Lying in the dirt was my favorite teddy bear, a gift from Collin. It was filthy. I stared at it for a long time before finally picking it up. It was the first gift he ever gave me. The night we made our relationship official, I’d had a sudden craving for a teddy bear. It was late, and most of the stores were closed. Collin ran nearly ten miles before he found a little shop that was still open. It was a cheap, simple bear. I had seen countless others that were more intricate, more beautiful. But for some reason, that one had captured my heart. It had become my most treasured possession. I took a picture of the scene and sent it to him. “You really know how to fake sincerity, don’t you?” I texted. It took him hours to reply. “Lily, that wasn’t me. I would never, ever do something like that!” I didn’t want to hear his excuses. I blocked his number. That evening, a torrential downpour began, raindrops hammering against the glass. The doorbell rang. I opened it to find Collin standing there, soaked to the bone. Water dripped from his clothes, and his wet hair was plastered to his forehead, his jaw clenched tight. “Get inside,” I said. I tried to pull him in, but he wouldn’t budge. “No. Not until you forgive me.” “Then stand outside,” I said, and shut the door in his face. A little while later, I checked the security camera. He was gone. I let out a bitter laugh. I was such a fool for ever believing him. The rain lasted all night. When I opened the door the next morning, he was there again. Wearing the same drenched clothes, still dripping wet. “Can you forgive me now, Lily?” he asked, his voice raw with misery. “I’ve been out here all night.” “What are you trying to pull?” Before I could say more, Pathy appeared, running toward us in a panic. She rushed to Collin’s side, helping him up. “Are you insane?” she screamed at me. “You let my brother stand in the rain all night? What kind of monster are you? Just because your body is broken, you have to make everyone else miserable? You’re disgusting!” Collin put on a show of being hurt, pretending to hold her back but not saying a single word in my defense. The absurdity of it all made me want to laugh. I was done wasting my breath on them. Pathy shoved her phone in my face. “See for yourself what a horrible person you are. My brother may tolerate you, but the rest of the world won’t put up with your princess attitude.” On the screen was a video of Rosie being interviewed by a reporter. She was recounting the story of how I had rejected her because of her birthmark, crying pitifully the entire time. The agency director was there too, confirming my cold and heartless behavior that day. The entire internet was crucifying me. “Oh my god, Rosie is so precious. How could she say those things to a child? That little girl must be so traumatized.” “She’s so young and already so mature. She almost had a home, and then this happens.” “My heart breaks for her. I didn’t even see the birthmark until she pointed it out. That woman was just looking for trouble.” Everyone was attacking me. My identity was leaked. People started throwing eggs at my family’s company building every day. The company’s stock plummeted. I was public enemy number one. Seeing the worry etched on my parents’ faces when they came home each night made me want to scream the truth from the rooftops. “Don’t worry,” I told them. “When the press conference happens, I’ll make them all pay.” On the day of the press conference, the entrance was swarmed with reporters. The moment I appeared, cameras and microphones were shoved in my face, the flashbulbs blinding me. I ignored them and walked expressionlessly to the stage. A few minutes later, Collin and his family arrived. My former in-laws looked at me with pure disgust, not even gracing me with a glance. Behind them was Pathy, holding Rosie in her arms. Good. Everyone was here. As soon as I sat down, the questions started flying. “Ms. Xu, what is your response to the recent incident at the adoption agency?” “Ms. Xu, is it true you refused to adopt Rosie because of the birthmark on her hand?” … I took the microphone. “It is true,” I said slowly, “that I refused to adopt Rosie because of the birthmark on her hand.” The room erupted. “But first,” I continued, “I have two things I want to show everyone.”

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