Category: English

I started a livestream in front of the city’s central police station. In front of thousands of online viewers, I picked up a brick and smashed thirty-eight shared bikes lining the street. As the comments flooded in—“She’s crazy,” “Someone call the cops on this psycho”—I smiled and held out my hands to the officers rushing out of the station. “Officers, arrest me. I can’t wait.” In my past life, I was the perfect scapegoat for my roommate and my boyfriend. They committed a massive fraud and theft that rocked our university, but they used my digital signature and fingerprints to make me the sole culprit. I had studied law for four years, only to become a victim of the very system I revered. I was sentenced to ten years in prison. My parents died of grief and shame. I thought I would finally see the light of day upon my release, but the day before I was due to get out, they arranged for me to have an “accident” in prison. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day they were set to spring their trap. Since they could fake evidence of my presence, I would create an alibi that the entire world could not deny. 1 I stood in front of the downtown police station, my livestream already running for ten minutes. The screen was a blur of scrolling comments: “This streamer is nuts,” “Somebody call the cops,” “This girl needs help.” I picked up a loose brick from the pavement and took aim at the neat row of shared bikes. The first hit dented a seat. The second twisted a wheel. The third sent the entire bike crashing to the ground. I kept going, one bike after another, my movements precise and brutal. The comments section exploded. People were trying to dox me, others were taking screenshots to report me. I smiled. This was exactly what I wanted. By the fifth bike, the sirens were wailing. I dropped the brick and flipped off the camera. “Remember this time: October 23rd, 2023, 8:00 PM sharp. This is Maya Lin, committing a crime.” Three officers charged toward me. The one in the lead tried to grab my phone. I cooperated by raising my hands, shouting, “It was me! I did it! Arrest me! I’m going to smash more!” A young officer frowned. “What’s wrong with you? Bad breakup?” “Breakup your ass,” I spat, wrenching free and making a break for the police car. “Just detain me already! I want to go to jail!” They exchanged bewildered glances, clearly having never encountered such an enthusiastic “criminal.” In the interrogation room, my attitude was pure defiance. I admitted to willful destruction of property, refused to pay for damages, and insisted on being detained. “Do you have any idea what detention means?” a middle-aged officer asked, trying to reason with me. I recited the Public Security Administration Punishment Law from memory. “Whoever intentionally damages public or private property shall be detained for not less than five days but not more than ten days, and may be fined not more than five hundred yuan…” He stared at me, stunned. I continued, “For more serious circumstances, the detention shall be not less than ten days but not more than fifteen days, and may be fined not more than one thousand yuan. I smashed five bikes, the total value is over two thousand. That counts as serious, right?” “Are you a law student?” “I am. Which is why I know exactly what I’m doing.” My parents, who had seen the livestream, called my phone. I hung up on them and spread my hands to the officer. “They can’t control me either.” The officers, exasperated, followed procedure and put me in a holding cell. I leaned against the wall and closed my eyes. In my past life, at this exact moment, my boyfriend, Ethan, and my roommate, Sherry, were in the university’s computer lab, completing the final transfer of funds. They used my student ID to get in, my fingerprint to unlock the computer, and a pre-recorded voice clip of me to authorize the transaction. All the evidence pointed to me being at the scene of the crime. But right now, I was in a police holding cell. A government law enforcement agency was providing me with an alibi. Who could possibly refute that? I almost laughed thinking about my past life, in that courtroom, when the judge asked me, “Where were you at the time of the crime?” My answer had been so weak, so pathetic. This time, my answer would be: “In a holding cell.” 2 I hadn’t been in the holding cell for long when I heard the frantic sound of footsteps outside. My mother burst in, her eyes red and swollen. The moment she saw me, she lunged forward. “Maya!” Her voice trembled as she wrapped her arms around me, her whole body shaking. My father followed, his face a grim, ashen mask. “Maya Lin! Are you insane? Do you have any idea what you’re doing?” The officers watched our family drama with weary frowns. My father immediately bowed to them, a full ninety-degree bend at the waist, his voice shaking. “Officers, I am so, so sorry. My daughter must have been under some kind of stress. We’ll pay for all the damages, I promise. Please, just let us take her home.” My mother clung to my hand, sobbing uncontrollably. “Maya, come home with Mom. Whatever it is, we can talk about it at home. Just don’t stay here…” I looked at their desperate, heartbroken faces, and my heart felt like it was being carved out with a dull knife. In my last life, it was because of me that they had to live with such shame. My father sold our house to hire a lawyer for me. My mother cried every single day. They both died of grief before I was even released from prison. But this time, I had to stay here. It was the only way I could protect them. The police, seeing my parents, were already preparing the paperwork to release me. I shot to my feet and pointed to an empty corner of the room, screaming. “I’m not going back! I broke the law! I want to go to jail!” My voice was hysterical. It startled my mother, who took a step back. “He made me do it! He’s been following me! Can’t you see him?!” I pointed at the corner, my eyes wide with terror, my body trembling. “He’s laughing! He’s standing right there, laughing at me!” My parents froze. My mother covered her mouth, fat tears rolling down her cheeks. “Maya, what’s wrong with you? There’s nothing there!” My father was shaking with a mixture of anger and fear, his voice cracking as he spoke to the officers. “Officers, she must be having a mental breakdown! She’s never like this!” I seized on his words, yelling at the police. “That’s right! I’m mentally ill! I need a psychiatric evaluation!” My performance grew more frantic. I clutched my head and spun in circles. “They’re trying to hurt me! Everyone is trying to hurt me! I have to stay here! It’s the only safe place!” The officers exchanged uncertain glances. Procedurally, they had to follow my request. A young officer tried to calm me down, but I shoved his hand away and cowered in the corner. “Don’t touch me! I know you’re all in on it!” My mother completely broke down, collapsing to the floor in a heap of heart-wrenching sobs. “Maya, Mommy was wrong. I shouldn’t have let you live on your own. Let me take you home, we’ll see a doctor, okay?” Seeing her devastation, I almost gave up. But I couldn’t. I had to be strong. “I don’t know you! You’re here to hurt me too!” My father, enraged, lunged forward, trying to drag me away by force. I screamed at the top of my lungs. “Help! They’re trying to kidnap me! Help me!” The police had no choice but to restrain my father. The situation had spiraled completely out of control. In the end, they had to ask my parents to wait outside. Through the crack in the door, I saw my mother slumped on a bench, looking like her soul had left her body. My father chain-smoked, one cigarette after another, his back so stooped he looked ten years older. They were arguing about something. My mother kept shaking her head, and my father punched the wall in frustration. 3 My parents were asked to wait outside, but they refused to leave, keeping vigil on the bench just beyond the interrogation room. Through the door, I could hear my mother’s muffled sobs, each one a dull knife twisting in my gut. A young female officer brought me a cup of hot water, her voice gentle. “Here, drink some water. We can talk about whatever’s bothering you.” I swatted the cup away. Hot water splashed across the floor and onto her uniform. “It’s all a lie! You’re all trying to hurt me!” I huddled in the chair, shivering. The officer’s expression hardened, and she abandoned any attempt to reason with me. Wiping her uniform, she stepped back, her eyes now wary and resigned. My mother’s frantic voice came from outside. “Let me in! I need to see my daughter!” The footsteps grew closer, and the door flew open. My mother rushed in, my father trying to hold her back. “Maya!” she cried, her face a mess of tears as she lunged toward me. “Come with me, we’ll see a doctor, I’m begging you!” The clock on the wall read 8:25 PM. My heart hammered against my ribs. It was time. They would be starting the final phase of their plan. I shoved my mother away, hiding behind an officer and screaming, “Don’t touch me! You’re all bad people! You want to hurt me!” My father rushed in to help my mother, who had stumbled to the floor. He looked at me, his eyes filled with a raw, aching disappointment that hurt more than any blade. “Maya, what’s happened to you?” he pleaded, his voice trembling. “What have we ever done to deserve this?” 8:28 PM. 8:29 PM. 8:30 PM. The second the hand on the clock ticked over, I felt an invisible weight lift from my shoulders. The tragedy of my past life was replaying itself in another timeline. But this time, I wasn’t there. I stopped screaming. My entire demeanor shifted. “Officer, I’m tired,” I said calmly. “I confess. Please, detain me.” The sudden change stunned everyone in the room. The person who had been acting completely unhinged moments ago was now terrifyingly composed. My mother stared at me, tears still clinging to her lashes. My father clenched his fists, the veins in his neck bulging. “Maya, what kind of game are you playing?” I didn’t answer. I just leaned back in my chair and closed my eyes. The officers exchanged confused looks and ultimately decided to hold me for observation. “Sir, Ma’am, I suggest you come back tomorrow to handle this,” the older officer said, trailing off as he struggled to explain my behavior. My father helped my mother to her feet. She was crying too hard to speak. As they reached the door, my father looked back at me one last time. His eyes were filled with a bottomless despair and confusion that seemed to age him a decade in an instant. The holding cell was small, with just a hard cot and a toilet. The TV on the wall was playing the evening news. A business news anchor was saying in a flat voice, “Shares of Titan Technologies experienced unusual volatility today. Relevant authorities have begun an investigation…” I closed my eyes, and a silent tear slipped down my cheek. Dad, Mom, I’m so sorry. Just wait a little longer. It will all be over soon. I could hear the guards talking outside. “That girl just now… she was really scary.” “So young, how did she lose her mind like that?” “Her parents seem normal enough, but the kid…” 4 The next morning, the police station was swarming with unfamiliar cars. I was still groggy when they pulled me from the holding cell, but the sight of the stern faces in the interrogation room jolted me awake. “Maya Lin. Last night at 8:30 PM, fifty million dollars were illegally transferred from an Titan Technologies account.” The man speaking was middle-aged, his ID identifying him as the captain of the city’s economic crimes division. His voice was ice, a stark contrast to the gentle female officer from the night before. I widened my eyes. “Fifty million? What are you talking about? I just smashed some bikes!” The captain slammed a thick file onto the table. “Every transaction was completed using your personal authentication key and digital signature! The evidence is irrefutable!” My mind went blank. How was that possible? I was… Knock, knock, knock! The door flew open. Ethan and Sherry walked in, followed by my parents. My mother’s eyes were swollen like walnuts, my father’s face was ashen. They hadn’t slept. “Officer, we have an important tip to report!” Sherry said, her voice choked with sobs. She looked at my parents, her voice trembling. “Uncle, Auntie, I didn’t want to say anything, but… Maya has been gambling online. She’s in massive debt. Last night, she stole my laptop, and I suspect…” “Impossible!” my mother cut her off. “My daughter would never do something like that!” Sherry took out her phone and played a recording. “This is what Maya said two nights ago when she was drunk.” My voice, slurred and intoxicated, filled the room. “I’m gonna get a huge score… one big job and I’ll never have to worry again…” My heart leaped into my throat. When was that recorded? I had no memory of it. My father’s face went white. Ethan then pulled out his own phone. “Officer, these are my chat logs with Maya. She’s been asking about the company’s internal financial systems for a while now…” He showed them screenshots. The messages were clearly from my account, asking about company passwords. My name, my profile picture, but I had never sent those messages. “And this,” Sherry said, producing an encrypted USB drive. “We found this in Maya’s dorm room yesterday. It’s full of information on opening offshore bank accounts.” An officer plugged the drive into a laptop. The screen filled with code and bank documents I didn’t understand. “Maya, what were you planning?” my father whispered, his voice shaking. I wanted to explain, but my throat felt like it was clogged with cement. Just then, another officer entered and whispered something to the captain. The captain’s expression grew even more grim. “Mr. and Mrs. Lin, did you receive any calls from debt collectors last night?” My mother nodded, fresh tears welling up. “Someone called and said Maya owed them three million… I thought it was a scam…” Ethan shook his head with a heavy sigh. “Uncle, Auntie, Maya’s bizarre behavior yesterday… it was because she had a guilty conscience.” Sherry added, sobbing, “I never thought she would go this far… It’s all my fault for not noticing the signs sooner…” All the pieces of their puzzle fit together perfectly, pointing to one conclusion: I was the audacious mastermind behind the financial fraud. Hearing all this, my mother swayed, her eyes rolled back, and she fainted. “Mom!” I surged forward, but an officer blocked me. My father caught her as she fell, turning to me with a look of utter despair and disbelief. “Maya…” his lips trembled, “why… why would you do this to us?” In that moment, all my pent-up grief and rage exploded. “I didn’t! I swear, I didn’t do any of it!” But no one believed me. The captain stood up and gestured to his men. “Take her away. We’re opening a major economic fraud investigation.” Heavier, colder handcuffs were locked onto my wrists. I had gone from a petty vandal to the prime suspect in a fifty-million-dollar criminal case overnight.

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Raven Blackwood, the mob boss’s daughter, took me in for five years. If I wanted the stars, she’d give them; if I desired the moon, she’d pluck it from the sky. She was grooming me as her successor. But on the day of her engagement party, she caught me sniffing her lingerie and exploded in a fury, personally shipping me off to Devil’s Island. “So young, yet so twisted! You even dare to lust after me, your guardian!” “Go rot in that hellhole. When you’ve purged those filthy thoughts, then you can come back!” The next day, she broke my drawing hand and sent me to Devil’s Island. Devil’s Island was where members who committed serious crimes were exiled. Nine out of ten never came back. I wailed, begging for her forgiveness. Tears welled in her eyes, but she left without a backward glance. The day after, someone showed up with the boss’s signet ring, telling the warden not to worry about my status – just keep me alive. First day, I was thrown into a rat cage, battling starved rats all night. Second day, I was forced to clean the hallways with my tongue. My mouth was a mass of blisters; even breathing was agony. I developed a stutter. … 1 A year later, Raven Blackwood finally remembered me. She was draped in black, sunglasses hiding her eyes, still every bit the unapproachable mob princess. But behind her stood someone new—her fiancé, Marcus Thorne. “You must be Alex, right? I’m Marcus Thorne, Raven’s fiancé. You left in such a hurry last year, you missed our engagement.” He finished speaking and raised a hand to pat my head. I flinched instinctively. Then, trembling, I nudged my head closer, rubbing against his palm. Raven felt something was off but couldn’t pinpoint what. “Have you learned your lesson?” My throat tightened, my whole body shaking as memories flooded back. This past year of beatings, bloodlettings, and humiliation felt like a thousand needles, making each breath a searing pain. I shrank back, head bowed, my voice barely a whisper: “I’ve learned. I really have.” Raven’s breath hitched; a strange bitterness welled up inside her. Last year, she’d wished I were this docile. Now that I truly was, it felt like a slap in the face. “Good that you’ve learned. From now on, get rid of those improper thoughts.” She nodded curtly, bitterness in her expression, and boarded the helicopter first. I followed, legs pressed tightly together, afraid to take wide steps. The moment the chopper lifted off, I gripped the door, face pale, burying my head in my knees. Memories of being thrown off cliffs into the sea, the impact jarring my organs, surged through me. My blood ran cold, and I shook like a leaf. Raven noticed something was wrong and was about to speak when Marcus cut in: “Alex, I heard you used to love sky-high sports. Is it because you haven’t tried in a year that you’re so worked up?” Marcus feigned concern, draping an arm around my shoulders to calm me. But the hand on my shoulder pressed down hard, and a newly healed wound felt like it was tearing open again. I clutched my jacket tighter, terrified the smell of blood would leak out and I’d be thrown into the dog kennels for their amusement again. I nodded numbly. “Yes, just too excited.” 2 Raven’s tightly furrowed brow finally relaxed, a hint of satisfaction on her face. Back home, I habitually called out, “Mimi.” But the cat that used to leap into my arms was nowhere to be seen. Marcus looked apologetic. “Sorry, Alex. After Raven and I got engaged and moved in together, I developed a cat allergy, so we had Mimi rehomed.” “How about I get you another one?” Raven anxiously watched my expression. Given my old temper, if Marcus had gotten rid of the cat my late father gave me, I would have raised hell. But I just shook my head in fear, eyes wide with panic. “No need. You’re the head of the house. You decide about pets.” Raven let out a long sigh of relief and handed me a can of Coke. “Good boy. Wasn’t this your favorite drink? Drink up today.” I stood frozen, remembering being force-fed Coke until I choked, and hesitated to take it. “Hmm? Don’t like it?” I flinched, snatched the Coke, and gulped it down, ignoring the bursting blisters in my throat, the searing pain. Marcus wrapped an arm around Raven’s slim waist. “Raven, why be so harsh? Alex is still just a nineteen-year-old kid.” Raven glanced at me, a dark current in her eyes. “You always spoil him.” She chuckled, leaning into Marcus’s embrace, but her eyes kept flicking towards me. I kept my head down, not daring to look, just staring at the tips of my shoes. Raven hadn’t expected me to change so drastically. Seeing her intimate with someone else, I no longer threw tantrums or tried to drive them away like before. A faint sense of melancholy touched her heart, but she quickly hid it. “Your old room is still there. Go on up.” The thought that just last year, I was thrown into that hellhole merely for indulging in the scent of her clothes made me shiver. I stammered, “N-no… no need. I’m used to guest rooms now.” With that, I picked up my luggage and retreated to the guest room furthest from Raven’s. Only when the door closed did I dare to relax completely. Trembling, I took out a tin box from my suitcase. It was full of nickels, dimes, and quarters – all the money I’d earned on Devil’s Island. I counted it. Seven hundred dollars. Before Mom left, she told me if I was ever unhappy, I should go find her. I was going to use this money to buy a bus ticket and leave this place for good. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. “Alex, are you asleep?” Hearing that familiar female voice, I sat up almost reflexively. In that moment, I forgot I was home; I thought I was still on Devil’s Island. There was a rule: whenever I heard Raven’s voice on a recording, I had to… be ready. Otherwise, I’d be beaten so badly I couldn’t get out of bed for three days. They said it was to cure me of my ‘obsession’ with Raven. But today, maybe it was the change of environment, or maybe I’d truly lost my love for her. As the door opened, I immediately threw myself at her feet, crying out, “Don’t hit me! Don’t hit me, I’ll be quick!” 3 I frantically started… touching myself. But then, the lights flicked on. I saw Raven standing before me, holding an expensive Italian tailored suit, her eyes filled with disbelief. “Alex, what are you doing?” Her voice grated on my nerves. My mind exploded, tears streaming down my face. I groveled on the floor, banging my head repeatedly. “Please, don’t hit me. You can do whatever you want.” When nothing happened for a long moment, I fearfully squirmed, trying to show I was compliant, not resisting. Suddenly, a sharp kick landed on my lower back. I curled up in pain. They’d taken a kidney from that spot just a month ago; it was too fragile for any rough treatment. “Alex Sterling! Do you even look like an heir anymore?” I jerked my head up, meeting her gaze, a moment of clarity piercing through the fog. “No, no, I… I was…” I tried to explain, fumbling, not knowing where to start. She threw the suit at my feet, cutting me off. “Still dare to make excuses! Are you going to say someone forced you? With your status, who would dare touch you! A grown man, learning such disgusting things!” Her expression shifted from anger to disgust. “Alex, let me tell you, cut out these cheap tricks. I will never like you.” “Let alone that you’re just a kid who hasn’t even fully matured, even if you were a real man, I wouldn’t be interested in the slightest!” With that, she slapped me hard across the face, several times. The first slap. “Why did you become such a… freak, neither man nor woman!” The second slap. “Why can’t you learn? Why must you harbor these filthy thoughts!” The third slap. “Why are you such a lost cause? How will you ever take over?” Seeing my face redden, she finally couldn’t bear it and turned away. She placed my father’s photograph in front of me, along with a phone playing a video she’d just recorded. “Your father died for this Family. And you?” “You kneel here and reflect. See if you can face your father!” Then, she turned and strode out. I knelt there, fingers gripping my father’s photo so tightly they turned white. The video played my begging voice over and over. Those sounds wrapped around me like a nightmare, inescapable. My eyes bloodshot, I sank into painful memories of the past. A year. I had learned to be obedient. Learned not to complain. Even learned not to love her anymore. But why wouldn’t she let me go? I truly didn’t dare anymore. Didn’t dare to love her, didn’t even dare to get close to her. Wasn’t her punishment enough? If not, I’d do it myself! As if possessed, I started slapping myself frantically, muttering as I did. “I don’t dare anymore, Alex doesn’t dare to love Raven Blackwood anymore…” Over and over, I repeated the phrase numbly, until I finally passed out. 4 When I woke up the next day, the room was empty. From downstairs, I could hear Raven and Marcus’s cheerful laughter. I mechanically sat at the dining table, eating breakfast. “Your face… does it hurt?” Raven stared anxiously at my injuries, noticing faint traces of blood seeping from beneath the swollen skin. I shook my head, my voice hoarse and weak. “It’s fine. It doesn’t hurt.” “How could it not hurt?” She rushed over anxiously to examine my wounds. Then, as if realizing something, she shoved me to the ground. “You’re playing mind games again, aren’t you? Just three slaps, how could it be this bad?” I no longer felt the pain, just mechanically got to my feet. “I’m done eating. You two enjoy.” “Alex, wait a minute!” Marcus grabbed my arm, holding out a new suit. He playfully tapped Raven’s nose. “Alright now, he’s the kid you practically raised. Can you really stay mad at him?” “Tonight’s the party specifically for Alex. He can’t look like this. I got him a new suit. Go try it on.” Raven patted his hand, moved, then turned to me with a look of exasperation. “Stop your scheming. Behave yourself.” I nodded obediently and followed Marcus upstairs. He dismissed the servants and began to help me undress, looking at the crisscrossing scars on my body as if admiring a masterpiece. “Alex Sterling, it wasn’t a waste for me to have people ‘take special care’ of you. This body full of scars is disgusting to look at.” “How can you compete with me for Raven? Her husband will only be me. The position of heir can only go to our child. What are you?” Hearing this, I was somewhat surprised, but I no longer had the energy to be angry. “I won’t fight you. I’ll leave.” Marcus scoffed, not believing me at all. “I’ll only be at ease when I send you away myself.” With that, he chopped the back of my neck, knocking me out. “Trouble, trouble! Mr. Thorne and young Mr. Sterling are gone!” “Looking at the room, it seems they’ve been kidnapped!” A servant held a letter with large, stark words. “To ransom them, come to the abandoned warehouse.” Raven’s hand, holding her teacup, trembled. She was livid. “Rescue them!” When I woke up, Marcus and I were tied to pillars in an abandoned warehouse. The expensive white suit was pristine on me, but Marcus was covered in blood, barely breathing. Raven stood opposite, tensed for a confrontation. “Raven Blackwood, I didn’t think you’d actually dare to come!” “Take one step back!” With that, a knife plunged into Marcus’s arm. Blood spurted instantly. “No!” Raven’s eyes were bloodshot, her voice a raw scream. Her men stood behind her, but dared not make a rash move, only cautiously taking a step back. “Whatever you want, I’ll agree!” “Is it money you want? I brought it!” As bundles of cash scattered across the floor, the kidnapper finally relented. His playful gaze darted between me and Marcus, an interested look on his face. “This much money is only enough to save one. Let’s see who you choose.” 5 Raven saw I was unharmed and visibly sighed in relief. Then she saw Marcus, covered in wounds, her eyes filled with pain. Finally, she closed her eyes and, with a pained heart, pointed. “Let Marcus go.” I gave a self-deprecating smile. What was I even hoping for… Marcus was released. Raven held his weak form, tears of distress streaming down her face. “Raven, these men were hired by Alex. He wanted to test his place in your heart.” With that, Marcus fainted. Raven’s head snapped up, looking at my clothes, which weren’t even dusty. Suddenly, she remembered the handwriting on the ransom note was mine. She had her men carry Marcus to the car, her gaze towards me chillingly cold. “Alex Sterling, since you love playing these games so much, you can face the consequences yourself!” With that, she turned and left without hesitation, not even sparing me a glance. I watched the kidnappers closing in on me, my pupils contracting, blood rushing to my head. My mind involuntarily flashed back to the most unbearable memories from Devil’s Island. The dark water cell, the cold pliers, and those men who had been deprived for so long. My body trembled uncontrollably, tears streaming down my face. “Aunt Raven, please, save me! Don’t leave me here! Please!” I struggled frantically, letting the wire mesh dig into my skin. Blood quickly stained the once-pure white suit. Raven’s steps faltered. She turned her head, a flicker of hesitation in her eyes. Ultimately, she strode out of the warehouse. As soon as she was out, Marcus woke up. He weakly clutched Raven’s hand. “Raven, maybe we should…” Raven sneered. “He hired those men himself. What could happen to him? When his little drama is over, he’ll come back.” Sure enough, no more sounds came from the warehouse, as if proving her words. But she didn’t know I wasn’t screaming because those thugs had cut out my tongue. My body was like a rag doll, toyed with at their whim. Not satisfied, they broke my arms and legs. My very soul trembled with pain, yet I endured this torment for two whole days and nights. After a long while, I mustered my last bit of strength and crawled to the warehouse rooftop. I looked towards the city where my mother lived, remembering what she said before she left. “If you’re not doing well, come find me. I’ll always be your mother.” I was so close, just a little bit more, and I could have escaped this hell. But the person I loved most had utterly destroyed me. I closed my eyes, tears flowing. Mom, I can’t leave… I really don’t have any strength left… My body and soul are completely shattered. And yet, I wanted to live so badly. I saw that familiar Rolls-Royce approaching in the distance. Without hesitation, I pushed myself up and toppled over the edge.

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In this new life, I avoided Caelus like a plague. When he descended to the mortal realm to temper his soul, I sealed my sanctum to forge my own. When he vowed to repay a debt to a mortal woman, Lois, and settled her in my own aerie for me to tend to, I entered a deep seclusion. When he needed a sacred herb to break through to the next tier of power, I found it first and consumed it myself, without a second thought. In my past life, my mentor and I became bonded partners. But just as I reached for Divinity, he siphoned my very essence, leaving me an empty husk. All so that Lois could form her own Crystalline Core, extending her mortal life so she could remain by his side… 1. After the final ordeal of bone-tempering, I emerged as the first Aegis practitioner to reach the Crystal Tier. When I reported the news to the Grand Master, he was overcome with emotion. “When you abandoned the Blade-Path after mastering only the third form, I thought it was a jest,” he mused. “I never imagined that you, like Caelus, were a prodigy born once a millennium.” Caelus was my senior, my mentor. When I was ten, a Savage Tide consumed my homeland. I was the sole survivor, found amidst the carnage by Caelus, who had come to slay the beasts. From that day on, he became the singular star in my desolate sky. He was elegant and serene, a spirit of profound grace. When he formed his own Core, the heavens themselves took notice. He was a peerless genius in the eyes of all. And I was merely the untalented stray he’d brought back to the mountain out of pity. I offered a faint smile, my voice even. “You flatter me, Grand Master. Caelus is the true prodigy. A common soul like myself could never compare.” I bowed my head slightly. “My only desire is to repay the Empyrean Order and our Master for their grace. My heart has room only for my training.” The Grand Master, pleased by my devotion, gifted me a robe woven from phoenix feathers and dismissed me. 2. In my past life, Caelus and I were bound as partners. But he was always in seclusion for ten days, then on a quest for five. In over five hundred years, the number of times we met could be counted on one hand. I wasted countless hours of my own training managing the Order’s affairs for him, and I gave him all my resources without question. My own talent was limited, so my progress crawled compared to his. By the time I had just formed my Core, he was already on the cusp of the Aetherial Soul tier. Within the Order, he was the golden child, our greatest pride. Beyond it, he was the youngest Soul-tier Blade-Master in history, his reputation soaring toward legend. They all said I wasn’t worthy of him, that snagging a man of his stature was the blessing of a dozen lifetimes. I wanted to prove I deserved to stand by his side. I wanted to help him. So I trained, pushing myself to the breaking point. When the moment of my ascension to Divinity finally arrived, he stole my power, draining my very aether to forge a Crystalline Core for Lois. “Elara,” he had said, his voice calm, “you will only fall back to the Adept tier. You can train again.” “Lois’s mortal life is nearing its end. If she cannot form a Core, she will perish.” “Lyra cannot be without a mother. This is a debt I owe her. I am sorry.” Caelus, was I not good enough to you? When you needed a beast’s core, I fought a creature tiers above me and was nearly crushed to a pulp. When you were ambushed by demonkin, I threw myself before you as your shield, my left arm crippled in the process. When you lay dying from your wounds, I used my own blood as the catalyst for your elixirs, nearly dying myself time and again. You saved my life, but I saved yours, too! How much did I have to repay before the slate was clean? Why was her debt a price I had to pay? Lois’s child could not be without a mother. Then what of the child I carried for you? I clutched my stomach. The bitterness, the rage… it was all useless. As my life force dissipated and the divine lightning struck me down, I saw Lois successfully form her Core. Caelus held her and their child in his arms, a perfect family. In that final moment, a single thought consumed me. The debt is paid. If I were granted another life, our paths would never cross again. Thank the heavens, in this life, we were not yet bound. There was still time. 3. Because Caelus had brought me to the Order, my first sanctum had been assigned to the Azure Aerie, the peak closest to his. I followed the map of my memories, calculating the days. On the stone wall, I carved a tally mark for each day that passed, a single line, grouped in fives. The day of our wedding in my past life would be the day of my departure in this one. This time, I had to reach the Aetherial Soul tier as soon as possible. 4. I prepared a feast for one, a small ritual to remember the taste of the mortal world. Before I could take a single bite, Caelus returned. He was holding Lois’s hand, with their daughter, Lyra, in his other arm. They looked like a picture-perfect family. Lois was lovely, with crimson lips and a delicate face framed by large, soulful eyes that were both innocent and alluring. Three years ago, Caelus had descended to the mortal realm for a trial and met with disaster. The story was that Lois and her husband had saved him, but her husband had died in the process. Vowing to repay his debt, Caelus brought the mother and daughter back to the Order. But he was often away, leaving them in my care. If they so much as sneezed, Caelus would accuse me of not being attentive enough. But the Order was not the mortal world; the mere difference in day and night temperatures was enough to make them ill. How could they not fall sick? Once we reached the Crystal tier, we could go months without eating. The only reason I had cooked daily in his sanctum was for them. Lois, showing no restraint in my presence, took my seat and filled two bowls with rice. One for Lyra, one for Caelus. “Brother Caelus,” she said softly, “I know you Ascendants can go without food, but Lyra misses you so much. Won’t you eat with her, just this once?” A warm smile graced Caelus’s face as he sat. “Elara, the soup.” He ordered me around as he always did. I didn’t look up, my gaze remaining fixed on them. When I didn’t move, his brow furrowed, and he was about to scold me when Lyra suddenly burst into tears. “It’s spicy! Mommy, it’s so spicy!” Lyra couldn’t handle spicy food. She stuck out her tongue, her small face turning beet red. Lois quickly poured her some water. But Lyra spat it out. “It’s so bitter!” Only then did they notice that every dish was laden with hot peppers, and the tea was a bitter medicinal brew. Lois’s eyes instantly welled with tears. “Sister, you knew Lyra can’t eat spicy food and hates bitter things. Are you trying to tell us we’re not welcome? Did you do this on purpose?” Caelus’s face darkened. I scoffed. “You may not like it, but I do. Did I invite you?” I added coolly, “Besides, you’re her mother, so concerned with your own meal you don’t even check your daughter’s. I’m an outsider; I wouldn’t dare meddle.” Lois eventually left in a storm of sobs. When Caelus returned after settling her down, night had already fallen. I was in meditation, circulating my aether, and ignored him. An hour later, I realized he was still there. Annoyed, I opened my eyes. “Do you require something, Senior?” “Elara, you’ve changed.” He sounded displeased as he explained, yet again, “Lois’s family sacrificed so much to save me. Before her husband died, he made me promise to look after them. I cannot be a man who breaks his word.” I said nothing. He continued, “The Order’s dining hall is crowded and the food is… coarse. The meals you prepare are the only thing I trust.” Crowded and coarse was just an excuse. He was afraid of being accused of favoritism, and he was afraid of wounding Lois’s fragile pride. To spare her feelings, he had turned me into his servant. When he was here, I served all three of them. When he was away, I cooked for them alone. I remained silent, overcome with shame. The me from my past life was truly pathetic. Caelus continued, taking my silence for agreement. “I’m leaving for a trial in ten days. It will be inconvenient for Lois to travel back and forth with a child. I plan to settle them here with you. It will be easier for you to care for them.” I smiled. Lois had been here for three years, consuming countless resources, yet she was still stuck at the first level of the Foundation stage. She couldn’t even command a blade-flight. Of course it was inconvenient. I didn’t respond. Caelus, mistaking my silence for assent, actually smiled. “Then it’s settled. Tidy up tomorrow and let them move in.” I neither agreed nor disagreed. Because I knew that even if I objected, they would come anyway. Out of sight, out of mind. By dawn, the doors to my training chamber were sealed. I would not be disturbed. 5. When I next emerged from seclusion, I heard movement outside my sanctum. I recognized Caelus’s presence. “Senior, it is hardly appropriate for you to be lurking outside my door so late at night.” There was a moment of silence before Caelus pushed the door open. A flicker of astonishment crossed his face. “You’ve broken through again?” “A minor stage. It’s nothing to speak of.” I was still a long way from the Aetherial Soul tier. I couldn’t afford to relax for a second. Only at that tier would I be permitted to leave the Order for good. Caelus was silent for a moment before speaking. “You abandoned the Blade-Path for the Path of the Aegis without a word. I suppose I can’t fault you for it. But you promised to care for Lois, and then you suddenly went into seclusion. What is she to think?” His voice rose, losing its usual composure. “Anyone can see you did it to avoid caring for her! Do you have any idea how much you’ve hurt her? She’s done nothing but weep for days.” He rarely lost control of his emotions. Once was when he brought Lois back and knelt before the Grand Master, begging for her to be allowed to join the Order. The other time was now. Both times, it was because of Lois. My voice was utterly devoid of emotion. “Then what would you have me do, Senior?” “Apologize to her, and we’ll let the matter drop.” I couldn’t help but let out a bitter laugh. “We of the Order should be concerned with the fate of the world, with our own ascension. If Mistress Lois desires the treatment of a lady of the house, you can spend your spirit stones to hire attendants. I’m sure many would be willing to serve her tea. But I am not one of them.” My voice hardened. “Nothing, and no one, will stand in the way of my training.” “You—!” Caelus started to rebuke me, but the words died on his lips. He fell silent for a long moment before saying, “Once I obtain the Voidbloom, we will be wed. We can set a date then.” He left without another word. He’d said the same thing in my past life. To be with him, I had stormed the lair of a Void Serpent, barely escaping with my life to pluck the Voidbloom that allowed him to survive his tribulation. I never knew if it was intentional or not. Every time, he would mention something he needed. And every time I returned, battered and bleeding, with the item in hand, he would say, “If your cultivation is lacking, then train. Who asked you to do these useless things?” He would scold me, but he always used what I brought him. Pushing the memories aside, I thought of the wedding. Ever since he’d found me, I had followed him like a shadow. A century ago, our Master, the foremost Blade-Master of his generation, left to guard the Wyrmgate Pass, entrusting the Order’s affairs to Caelus. He had even said that he would return for our wedding. Even those in the Order who disapproved could only acquiesce. But now, there was no chance I would marry him. This life was my own. 7. The next day, I journeyed alone to the Void Serpent’s lair. In my past life, I had come here before forming my Core. The serpent, a full tier of power above me, had torn my hand to ribbons and shattered my leg. I nearly died in its belly. Only by unleashing a sliver of blade-intent left to me by our Master did I survive. This time, I was its equal in power, and with the phoenix robe to aid me, I dispatched the beast quickly. After taking its core and the Voidbloom, I set up a protective ward around the cave and consumed the sacred herb. The Aetherial Soul tier was getting closer.

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Paul was my first love. Years passed before we met again, in an elevator. He didn’t recognize me. After pressing the button for the 26th floor, he noticed I hadn’t moved and asked where I was going. I answered in a small voice, “The 26th floor, too.” He stared at me, his gaze so intense it made my whole body tense up. Finally, he spoke. “I don’t recall seeing you around the office.” My hand, clutching an insulated food jar, tightened. “I’m here for one of the employees,” I replied. He nodded once and said nothing more. I stared at his tall, broad back for a few seconds, lost in thought. He didn’t remember me. But I would never forget him. He’d been my boyfriend for three short months before using me as a stepping stone to get to my best friend. They became a couple. In the blistering heat of that long-ago summer, I lost my best friend and the love of my life all at once. 1 Paul and I stepped out of the elevator, one after the other. With his long legs, he strode ahead, and I followed at a measured pace behind him. He turned left into an office, and I saw the nameplate on the door. So he was the new boss Ian had mentioned a few days ago, the one who’d been brought in from headquarters. I turned right, into the main office area. At nine o’clock at night, the development department was still a blaze of light. Most of Ian’s colleagues knew me. Seeing me with the food jar, their eyes went wide with envy. “Damn it! How come Ian gets lovingly prepared meals while we’re stuck with the sad, lonely cafeteria food?” Under the pressure of their good-natured teasing, Ian smiled shyly and pulled me out onto the balcony. It was quieter here; this was where he always brought me when I delivered his dinner. Inside the jar was chicken soup, made from a free-range chicken my mother had bought specially from the countryside. The aroma was intoxicating. “Smells amazing,” Ian said, sniffing appreciatively. He looked at me, his face full of emotion. “A woman like you… what more could a guy ask for?” “When do you think you’ll get off work?” I asked, stroking his head with a pang of sympathy. “I think you’re starting to go bald.” “Can’t be helped. New boss, new rules. Everyone’s pushing hard to meet the deadlines right now.” He leaned in and gently bumped his forehead against mine. “Once I finish this project, I can take my leave for our wedding.” Ian and I had been set up by mutual friends. He had a high income; I had a stable job. We were a typical match in the modern dating market. After a few dates, we found we were both easygoing and got along well, so we made it official. We’d met each other’s parents last month and had started discussing a wedding date. He was good to me. Even though we weren’t married yet, he was completely open with his finances. He’d learned a thing or two from the internet, always making sure to label his contributions to our joint account as a “voluntary gift.” In return, I felt for him, working so hard, and often brought him dinner after I finished my own work. It was a comforting, stable way to be together. He didn’t mind my plain looks; I didn’t mind his straightforward, sometimes boring, personality. Just two ordinary people, supporting each other, building a life together. 2 Ian worked overtime for nearly a month straight, and I visited him every few days. Even if I didn’t bring food, we’d meet up at a small restaurant near his office just to have a change of scenery. But every time I came, I ran into Paul. He was indeed a strict boss, with high expectations for his team. But Ian said Paul was fair; though he demanded overtime from his staff, he worked even longer hours himself. Most importantly, Paul was brilliant at his job. He commanded respect. I could hear the admiration in Ian’s voice when he talked about him, but I’d heard that tone from so many people before that it didn’t seem strange. At first, I was a nervous wreck, terrified of what I’d do if Paul recognized me. But eventually, my heart settled into a placid calm. Even when Ian called out my name right in front of him, Paul’s expression never changed. He really had forgotten me completely. I breathed a sigh of relief. After a while, when Paul started to recognize my face from my frequent visits, I could even manage a natural smile in his direction. He was a distant kind of boss, not one to joke around with employees, so he would just give me a detached nod whenever he saw me. I thought this was for the best. Since Ian worked under him, the simpler our connections were, the better. 3 The day the overtime marathon finally ended, Ian called me, ecstatic, saying he wanted to come home for dinner. I left work early and went to his place with a bag full of groceries. I love to cook, and I love seeing the look of happiness on the faces of people I care about when they eat my food. Ian was hopeless in the kitchen, so he always took on the dishwashing duties. I heard the key in the lock and walked out of the kitchen, spatula in hand, just in time to see Ian step inside carrying a fruit basket. Before I could greet him, I saw Paul standing right behind him. The cheerful “You’re home!” died in my throat. I stood frozen for a few seconds. Ian, oblivious to my strange reaction, was busy finding slippers for Paul. “Director, you can wear these. They’re brand new, I haven’t even worn them yet.” They were the matching couple’s slippers I’d bought last month. The women’s pair was on my feet right now. I curled my toes uncomfortably. But Ian didn’t know, and I couldn’t tell him I didn’t like him giving our couple’s slippers to someone else. He was a guest, after all, and Ian’s boss at that. Of course, he had to be treated with care. Paul saw me and greeted me naturally. “Hello. Sorry to impose.” Ian grinned. “I ran into the Director just as I was leaving work. He asked if I wanted to grab dinner, so I invited him over to our place. “Director, I’m not just bragging, my Nina’s cooking is top-notch! You’ll know once you try it.” A corner of Paul’s mouth twitched. “I don’t need to try it to know. Every time your girlfriend brings you one of her special deliveries, I can smell it all the way from my office.” I forced a smile. “Director, are there any foods you don’t eat?” “Nothing in particular,” Paul said. “I can eat anything.” He was lying. He didn’t eat ginger, scallions, or cilantro. And he couldn’t handle spicy food. But Ian loved spicy food. Of course, I could have pretended I didn’t know. But Paul was Ian’s boss. If he was unhappy with the meal tonight, would he make things difficult for Ian at work? I bit my lip, hesitating for a moment, then changed the planned Szechuan spicy fish to a milder pickled fish soup. I added only a few dried chilies to the braised pork ribs for a hint of flavor. I stir-fried some shredded potatoes and made a simple tofu soup, with a separate bowl of spicy chili dip on the side. It was enough for the three of us. When the food was on the table, Ian excitedly pulled out a bottle of red wine he’d been saving, saying he wanted to thank Paul for all his help recently. I wanted to stop him. Ian was a one-drink lightweight. But the wine was already breathing, and saying something now would just pour cold water on his enthusiasm. So, I ate in silence. Paul wasn’t a man of many words. The conversation at the table was mostly driven by Ian. Suddenly, I felt a touch on the back of my foot. I froze, my gaze instinctively dropping, but all I could see was the floral tablecloth. Was it an accident? I quietly pulled my foot back. 4 In the end, Ian got drunk. He was slumped over the table, his cheeks flushed a deep red. I poured him a glass of honey water, coaxing him to drink it, then shot Paul an apologetic smile. When Paul wasn’t smiling, his eyes were cold and distant. He took out a pack of cigarettes and looked at me, a silent question asking if I minded. I could only say that I didn’t. He sat to the side, smoke curling around him, and watched as I helped Ian up and settled him on the sofa. I bustled about, covering Ian with a small blanket, then clearing the dishes from the table. Paul made no move to leave, and I didn’t feel it was my place to ask him to. But with Ian asleep, the two of us standing there was uncomfortably awkward. I had to wrack my brain to find things to do. I washed the dishes, wiped the table, and when I was truly out of tasks, I cut up an apple into little rabbit shapes for Paul. Paul speared a piece with his fork, studying it for a long moment before he finally spoke. “Nina.” It was the first time he had said my name since we’d met again. “Are you like this with every boyfriend?” “Like what?” “Working yourself to the bone, giving everything they ask for.” He paused, then delivered his verdict. “Like a maid.” He thought for a moment, then corrected himself. “No, that’s not right. Not just boyfriends. You’re a free maid to your friends, too.”

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1 Nick’s “best friend,” Scarlett, was throwing another tantrum. It was our fifth anniversary, and he’d only bought a gift for me, completely forgetting about her. So, Scarlett pitched a fit, sobbing and screaming until Nick blocked me on everything, deleted me, and swapped out our matching profile pictures. “She’s just a kid, you know how she gets,” he’d said, trying to soothe me. “Be a good girl, baby. I’ll switch it back as soon as she’s calmed down.” I reminded him, my voice flat, “This is the hundredth time.” He just smiled and pressed a soft kiss to my lips. “I know. I’ll make it quick this time.” That evening, Scarlett posted an update: 【Okay, I guess someone behaved themselves. You’re granted three days of freedom.】 Almost instantly, Nick unblocked me. 【It’s okay now, baby. You can change your profile pic back.】 But before I could, a different account—one with my half of our matching picture—added him and sent a single message: 【What kind of matching PFP needs three people?】 2 Nick stared at the message from the strange account, then a slow grin spread across his face. “Well, well, Claire. Look at you, finally learning how to make me jealous.” He dangled his phone in front of me before wrapping me in his arms. “My fault, baby, all my fault. You put up with it ninety-nine times without a peep. I guess it’s about time you got a little fire in you, hmm?” “I’m not trying to make you jealous.” I pushed him away. “I’m serious, Nick. We’re done.” He burst out laughing, pulling me back against his chest. “Alright, alright, I get it. I know I messed up. They say three strikes and you’re out, and you’ve let me get away with ninety-nine. I’m not that clueless.” He leaned in, his voice a low murmur. “I came back just for you.” He placed a gift box in my hands. I opened it. Inside, twelve pigeon’s blood rubies lay nestled in velvet, glowing like embers. “A year ago,” he said softly, “you told me you’d marry whoever bought you sunrise rubies. Twelve gems, Claire. One for every month. Do you like how hard I’ve worked for you this past year?” Then, he dropped to one knee, a diamond ring appearing in his hand as if by magic. Suddenly, doors to the other rooms flew open. Our friends burst out, popping confetti cannons. “Happy 25th birthday, Claire!” “Say yes! Say yes!” The sudden ambush left me reeling. Burmese rubies from the Mogok valley—the last auction price for a set like this was in the millions. I’d said it as a throwaway comment, a joke. He’d remembered it all this time? Colorful streamers settled in my hair as Nick took my hand, sliding the diamond onto my finger. “Baby, I’ve been waiting for this day for so long.” Just then, his phone rang. He answered, and the smile vanished from his face. I could clearly hear Scarlett’s voice, sharp and furious, through the phone. “Who the hell said you could propose?! I gave you three days of freedom, not a lifetime pass! You forget my gift, and then you go and propose to her? Did you even ask for my permission? What am I to you, Nick?!” He froze, his eyes darting instinctively toward our friends. One of them, who had been filming, stiffened and quickly lowered his phone. Nick shot him a death glare before ripping the ring from my finger and turning to leave. “No, Scarlett, that’s not it! I wasn’t trying to hide it from you!” “Hey! Nick!” someone called out, trying to stop him. “What about Claire…?” “Forget it! Just pack it all up!” he snapped over his shoulder. One of the guys glanced at me, shook his head with a smirk, and closed the lid on the box of rubies. “Man, I really thought he was serious this time. Guess some people just aren’t destined for a happy ending, huh?” “Haha, what do you bet he does to win Scarlett over this time? She sounds seriously pissed!” “I don’t know, but that box of gems is definitely going to her as an apology, right?” That night, Scarlett, of course, posted an update. It was a picture of the twelve rubies, tossed carelessly into a trash can. 【Someone else’s dirty leftovers? No thanks. I’m not interested. Hmph!】 Minutes later, another post appeared. This one featured a custom velvet case holding twenty-four flawless blue sapphires, glittering under the light. Scarlett’s delicate hand rested on the box, and on her ring finger sat a stunning diamond—a DR ring, the kind you can only custom-order once in your lifetime, for one person. 【Blue is so much more elegant than red, don’t you think? And since someone used his one-and-only lifetime purchase on me, I guess I can forgive him this time~】 Nick liked the post. 【Thank you for your mercy, Scarlett.】 Beneath his, a cascade of ninety-nine more likes from our “mutual friends” followed. In the past, I would have been a sobbing, hysterical mess, demanding an explanation. But this time, I just liked the post. Then, I calmly deleted Scarlett’s contact. I deleted all our mutual friends, too. A message popped up from the account with the matching profile picture. 【Claire, listen… changing the pic with you wasn’t just about getting back at him for you. The truth is, I…】 【Claire, do you understand what I’m trying to say?】 I paused, letting out a long sigh. 【Thank you, Jack. I understand. And I really appreciate your support.】 【But I’m done with relationships for now. I’m accepting the company’s offer to transfer overseas. For the next few years, the only thing I want to build is my career.】 He was silent for a long time. Finally, a single sentence came through. 【I support your decision. But if you ever need anything, remember I’m always here.】 I sent back a “Thank you so much!” sticker, a warmth spreading through my chest. We’d be working together on the overseas project. I’d find a way to repay his kindness then. That night, I packed my things. There wasn’t much to take. The apartment was Nick’s. The renovations were paid for by Nick. The appliances were bought by Nick. Aside from my personal belongings, there was nothing else that was mine. Maybe that’s why, after five years and a hundred betrayals, all I had to show for it was a hollowed-out heart. I left our home of five years that night and checked into the temporary hotel the company had arranged for me, waiting for my flight out in a week. But as I headed to the ground-floor pool with my swimsuit and a towel, a hand grabbed my arm from behind, yanking me back. “Hey! I knew you’d show up, Claire!” 3 “Nick just got Scarlett to forgive him, so he’s throwing a party to celebrate. We sent you an invite, but you deleted us all! What’s up with that?” “Come on, don’t take it out on us just because you and Nick had a fight.” “See? You were just playing hard to get. You came anyway! Get in here, we were just waiting for you!” I slapped their hands away. “Sorry, but the breakup is real.” The elevator doors slid open. I had one foot inside when a hand shot out, blocking the door. “Claire, Scarlett’s waiting for you. Don’t take this too far…” SMACK! I slapped him hard across the face. “She’s waiting for me, so I have to go? Who the hell do you think you are?” “You—!” “All of you, get the hell back to your party,” I cut him off, my voice ice. “Don’t make me end this ugly.” “Why so hostile?” That familiar voice. I turned. Nick was walking towards me, his arm wrapped around Scarlett’s shoulders, a lazy smile on his face. Scarlett was dressed in a couture gown dripping with crystals. But what stood out most were the twenty-four blue sapphires woven into the fabric. “I’m not angry anymore,” she said, her voice cloying. “Why are you still making a scene, Claire? Here, let me personally escort you inside!” She grabbed my hand, her grip tightening deliberately. The sharp edges of the sapphires and her new diamond ring dug into my palm. I hissed in pain and ripped my hand away. “Don’t touch me!” The violence of the movement stunned everyone into silence. Nick’s smile faltered for a second before he stepped forward, reaching for me. “Baby, don’t be like this. Scarlett’s in a good mood now. Do it for me, okay? Be good.” “Get lost!” I shoved him, and he stumbled back two steps. “I told you, we’re done! Are you deaf? If you can’t understand it, fine. I’ll say it again, in front of everyone. Nick, we are broken up!” The smile froze on his face. Someone in the crowd snickered. “You guys think she’s for real or just faking?” “Totally faking! Fifty bucks says she is!” “I’ll raise you a hundred!” “One thousand!” “Dude, seriously?” “What, you actually think she’s gonna leave him?” “Tsk! Good point. Alright, small bet then. Ten grand!” “Wait, is no one betting that she’s serious? What’s the point of this wager then? Hahaha!” Scarlett raised her hand. “One million. I bet she’s for real.” The crowd erupted in cruel, sharp laughter that surrounded me like a cage. I clenched my fists. The elevator doors opened again, and I turned to leave. “Hey! Don’t go, Claire!” Just as the doors were closing, Scarlett lunged, grabbing me. The force of her pull sent me stumbling, and half my body was caught as the elevator door slammed shut. The car jolted, dropping a few feet with a sickening lurch. I fell to the floor, my body trembling. Staring at the elevator, now jammed halfway between floors, I couldn’t help but think what would have happened if I’d been a second slower. SMACK! I grabbed Scarlett’s arm, yanked her toward me, and slapped her across the face with all my strength. “Do you have any idea what you just did?!” “Scarlett!” The panic on Nick’s face was real this time. He rushed forward, catching her as she fell into his arms. “Scarlett…” he whispered, his voice trembling as he gently traced the red mark on her cheek. Then he looked up at me. His eyes were filled with a cold, alien hatred I had never seen before. So that’s how much she meant to him. Even after she’d done something so reckless, so dangerous, she couldn’t suffer the slightest consequence, not even a single slap? “Claire…” Nick’s voice was dangerously low. His friends immediately understood. They moved, forming a circle around me. I looked around at them. Most were big guys, some twice my shoulder-width. I lifted my chin and met Nick’s gaze. “What are you going to do?” He flinched. I took a step toward him. “Are you going to kill me right here?” The veins on the back of Nick’s hand bulged. I held his gaze, refusing to back down. “Go home,” he finally bit out, helping Scarlett to her feet. She stared at him, incredulous. “Nick? She hit me!” “I said, go home!” he repeated, his voice tight. “Nick!” Scarlett’s teeth were clenched, tears streaming down her face. But for the first time, he didn’t give in. He shot me one last venomous glare and pulled her away. I closed my eyes, trying to quiet the storm inside me. Picking up my towel and swimsuit, I took the stairs down to the ground floor. But I never could have expected that when I finished my swim and stepped out of the shower, all of my clothes would be gone. 4 “Well, well, look who it is.” The familiar, mocking voice echoed in the locker room. I turned to see one of Scarlett’s friends dangling my clothes in her hand, a sneer on her face. “Give them back!” I lunged for them, but another girl yanked the door open and shoved me out into the pool lounge. “Oh my god! Is she naked?” “What is wrong with her? No shame at all.” “Damn! Nice rack. You get a picture of that?” “Got it, got it! Sending it to the group chat, boys. Skin’s practically glowing!” The sound of expensive leather shoes clicking on marble cut through the chatter. The whispers died instantly. “Huh? Mr. Blackwood? What’s he doing here?” I looked up. Nick stood over me, Scarlett clinging to his arm. The earlier distress on her face was gone, replaced by pure, triumphant glee. “Are you satisfied with this punishment?” Nick asked, his eyes soft as he looked at Scarlett. The coldness he’d shown me was now all warmth and affection for her. “Hmph!” Scarlett pouted. “You little sneak. You’ve learned how to play games with me now. For a second there, I really thought you weren’t going to listen to me anymore!” “How could I ever not listen to you?” Nick said, playfully tapping her nose. “Besides, there are no cameras in the locker room. It was a brilliant idea, Scarlett.” “Hmph! Of course it was! Fine, I’ll forgive you this time. But…” she shot me a contemptuous look. “She still owes me an apology.” “Claire.” Nick looked down at me, his voice devoid of any emotion. “Apologize.” I bit my lip so hard I tasted the metallic tang of blood. “What was that?” Scarlett crouched down, her face close to mine. The next second, I spat a mouthful of bloody saliva right in her face. “Ahhh!” she shrieked, recoiling as the red stained her pristine white dress. “It’s filthy! So filthy!” “Claire!” Nick grabbed my chin, his grip like steel. “I told you to apologize, not to add fuel to the fire! Why can’t you just learn to be obedient?” “Obedient?” I forced a smirk, the movement tearing at my raw cheek. “I’ve done nothing wrong! Why should I be the one to be obedient?” The fury in Nick’s eyes burned white-hot before flickering out, leaving only ice. “Since you refuse to learn your lesson.” Rough hands grabbed me, hauling me to my feet. Nick dragged me by the arm, pulling me through the corridor, past the gawking onlookers and their shocked whispers. “What is she doing? Walking around completely naked?” “How can someone be so shameless?” “Women need to have some self-respect. If my daughter ever did this, I’d break her legs!” “Damn, that ass… Hey, get a clear shot! It’s all blurry!” “Nick!” I struggled, but his grip only tightened, a raw, red mark forming on my wrist. “Let go of me! What are you doing?!” The hotel was mostly guests, a limited audience. But when Nick threw the main doors open, my heart stopped.

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The day the true Ashworth heiress returned, my life ended. I became a ghost on the streets, fighting stray dogs for scraps from dumpsters. With a ruined face and missing arm, no one challenged me for meals. “Ugh, she’s not even wearing pants!” a passerby sneered. Dignity was a luxury I couldn’t afford. I devoured a discarded cake, shoving it into my mouth with what remained of my fingers. Then I noticed him—staring in horrified disbelief. “Must be losing my mind,” he muttered, “mistaking a homeless woman for Roxanne Ashworth.” As he walked away, his voice warm with love for his wife, my tears mixed with the last bitter bite. I’d walked a thousand miles for this final look at him. Now that I had it… it meant nothing. 01 This cake was incredible. It would keep the hunger at bay for at least three days. I lay back on the cold stone steps, letting out a soft, contented burp. The man pointed at me, his handsome face an unreadable mask. “Mark,” he said to his assistant, “take her to a shelter. Help her find her family.” The man named Mark crouched down, his gaze sweeping over me with undisguised contempt. “Mr. Gabel, she’s been a fixture around here for years. I saw her… ‘working’… with a few other vagrants last year, if you catch my drift.” He wrinkled his nose. “Are you sure you want to help someone like her?” I was used to that look. The disgust. I let my matted hair fall away from my face and lunged at him with a guttural cry. He yelped, stumbling backward and falling flat on his ass. The man—Ethan Gabel—flashed a brief look of surprise, then shook his head, a frown tightening his lips. “Never mind.” “Just get her out of here,” he commanded. “I don’t want her on the grounds of Gabel Enterprises again. It’s bad for the company’s image.” He looked at me, his eyes as cold as a winter sky, and in them, I saw the Ethan I remembered. “Roxanne hurt Natalia, stole from the family safe, and fled the country. This can’t be her.” His tenderness, his affection—that was reserved for Natalia Ashworth and Natalia alone. A bitter acid churned in my stomach. Before Mark could say another word, I used a nearby pillar to haul myself to my feet and began to shuffle away. Mark scrambled back to Ethan’s side. “Sir, you have an appointment for Ms. Ashworth’s prenatal check-up in an hour. Will you go directly to the hospital, or shall I have a car take you home to pick her up?” “Natalia can’t stand the way you guys drive,” Ethan’s voice softened, a note of pure adoration creeping in. “I’ll go get her myself. Three years of marriage, a month away from being a mother, and she’s still got the temperament of a child. I wonder who spoiled her so badly.” The words were like a physical blow, a spike of pain through my ears. I froze, my gaze falling to the small, faded heart tattoo on my wrist with the initials ‘E & C’ inside. We’d gotten them together, the night of our engagement party. Four years. A lifetime ago. They were married now. They were having a child. Tears I could no longer control burned their way down my cheeks. Two years, walking a thousand miles, just to get back to Crestfall City. Another two years, haunting these streets, just for a glimpse of him from afar. And now, my wish was granted. There were no more regrets left to have. Nearby, Mark nodded. “I’ll pick you up at 2 p.m., then.” Ethan took the car keys from his hand and started toward the parking garage. He noticed I was still standing there, unmoving, and shot me a glare. “Why haven’t you gotten rid of her yet?” Mark rushed over, his voice sharp. “What, are you waiting for me to call security to throw you out? You bums are all the same—lazy, freeloading, preying on people’s kindness. Gabel Enterprises is not a place you want to mess with.” As he spoke, a pair of patrolling security guards hurried over. “It’s her! She tried to steal the keys to the guardhouse last time.” “Get her out of here!” The words had barely left his mouth before their rubber batons came down on me. I crumpled to the ground, curling into a ball and covering my head with my one good arm. Just endure it, I told myself. Let them get it out of their system, and then you can leave. But one of the guards had other ideas. He kicked my mangled left hand, the one with only three fingers, and then stomped on it, grinding his boot into the fragile bones. “Maybe breaking this one will teach you a lesson.” “Let’s do it, boys! I’ll take the heat if anything happens!” A wave of pure terror washed over me. I knew what was coming. I risked one last look at Ethan, a final, silent goodbye, and squeezed my eyes shut. Ethan, I thought, in the next life, we will not meet again. But the blinding pain I expected never came. A sharp “Stop!” from Mark cut through the air, and then a strong hand gripped my wrist. Ethan Gabel yanked me to my feet, his face pale, his voice a low, dangerous growl. “Where,” he demanded, his eyes locked on the faded ink, “did you get that ‘E & C’ tattoo?” 02 I stared up at him through my mess of hair, my face a roadmap of scars, and bit my lip until I tasted blood. What was I supposed to say? That I was her? That I was Roxanne Ashworth, the wild, headstrong girl who was once the bane of everyone’s existence? I, who had used my family’s power to force Ethan Gabel into an engagement. I, who had drugged him, then dragged his unconscious body to a tattoo parlor to brand us with matching symbols of a love he never wanted. I, who had watched him wake up, seething with a fury that was almost beautiful. Now, seeing me like this—a broken, homeless creature—would only bring him a grim satisfaction. His grip on my wrist was crushing, a vice of steel and ice. I tried to pull away, but he was immovable. Just then, his phone rang. I gestured weakly toward his pocket, but he didn’t move, his gaze still boring into me. It was Mark who finally answered the call. “Mrs. Gabel, yes. Mr. Gabel is just leaving the office now. He’ll be home shortly to take you to your appointment.” It must be Natalia. The icy fury in Ethan’s eyes thawed for a moment. He released my wrist, his voice regaining its commanding tone. “Take her to the shelter. Run a background check. Find out who she is.” He stared at me one last time before turning on his heel. “I want to know the second you have anything.” I watched him go, my eyes fixed on his retreating back long after he disappeared. Mark was efficient. Within the hour, I was not only at a shelter but in a private room. After I had washed, he returned with a doctor. The doctor examined the scars on my face, his expression grim. “My god,” he sighed. “Who did this to you? These wounds are at least three years old. A sharp blade, cut deep enough to graze bone. With her scar tissue, reconstructive surgery will be… difficult.” Even Mark, a man who I was sure had seen his share of unpleasantness, had to cover his mouth to stifle a gag. The doctor moved to my right side, gently rolling up the empty, tattered sleeve. The beam of his penlight illuminated the stump of my arm. “The right arm was severed. Hacked off, by the looks of it. Probably a cleaver or something similar.” He leaned in closer. “But it was clearly an amateur. Or maybe the blade was dull. See the hesitation marks? The ragged flesh? It was a brutal, clumsy job.” I looked down, a humorless smile twisting my lips. Natalia, who had never so much as harmed a fly, had complained that my bones were too hard. It took her more than a dozen swings to finally sever the limb. Did that count as an amateur? Mark let out a string of curses under his breath. “Jesus Christ. What kind of monster does something like this?” “That’s not all,” the doctor said, gently tilting my chin up. He shone the light into my mouth. “Her tongue… it’s been partially severed. She can’t speak properly.” He looked at me, his eyes filled with a pity that felt worse than any blow. “Young lady, who did you cross to end up like this?” I couldn’t stand their sympathetic gazes. They were a thousand times more painful than the guards’ batons. After Natalia was found and the DNA test proved she was the true Ashworth heiress, everyone I had ever slighted came for their revenge. Natalia had pointed at my right arm with a sweet, girlish smile. “Oh, Daisy, was it this arm she slapped you with? Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it for you.” Her best friend had held a pair of pliers, and with a sickening crunch, had snipped off the tip of my tongue. As I screamed, Natalia had poured a bottle of high-proof gin over my face, the alcohol searing my skin. “Every time you scream,” she’d whispered, “I’ll cut you again.” “You stole Ethan from me,” she’d said, her voice a singsong of madness. “So I’ll steal your name, your family, your life.” “This is what you owe me, Roxanne.” The memories of those three days and nights of torture clawed their way back into my mind. I began to tremble uncontrollably, my teeth chattering with a violent, rhythmic clicking. The doctor quickly pulled a syringe from his bag and administered a sedative. As my body went limp, he carefully tied off my good arm and inserted a needle. “Her emotional state is extremely fragile, and she can’t communicate. I’ll take this blood sample and run it through the database for a match. We should have results in about three days.” 03 I drifted in a hazy state, half-asleep, half-drowning in memory. In my mind, I was back in the Ashworth mansion. After Natalia had broken my legs, she’d had me thrown into the cellar. I couldn’t make a sound, only listen to the happy chatter of the family I once called my own living their lives above me. On the fifth day of my disappearance, I heard my mother, Eleanor, speaking to Natalia in a hushed voice at the top of the cellar stairs. “It’s been a week since Roxanne came home. You two went out together that day, didn’t you come back together?” Natalia’s voice was the picture of innocence. “Oh, Mom, you know how Roxanne is. Such a snob. She can’t stand my friends. We went to Daisy’s house, but she left after a little while, said she had something to do. She’s probably shacked up with some new boyfriend.” Eleanor sounded worried. “That doesn’t seem right. Roxanne can be a handful, but she’s always been responsible. She never stays out all night without calling.” She was about to say more when my father, Richard Ashworth, cut her off. “Why are you still talking about that little monster?” His voice was a low growl. “I just went to open the safe. The cash is gone. So are the gold bars. It’s pretty damn obvious who took them.” “And look at Natalia’s leg!” he roared. “She was a rising star in the National Ballet Company, and that little witch pushed her down the stairs and broke it! Natalia may never dance again! And you’re worried about her? I hope she rots out there!” Any lingering concern Eleanor had for me vanished in the face of my father’s rage. “It’s all my fault!” she spat, her voice thick with regret. “I should have known when I saw she didn’t look like me. I should have done a DNA test in secret years ago. Think of all the hardship our Natalia endured with that servant woman. It’s only fair that Roxanne gets a taste of it.” “She’s just like her biological mother,” Eleanor declared. “Rotten to the core! Heartless! A vile, ungrateful wretch!” I clung to the crack in the cellar door, their curses stabbing into me, a pain far deeper than any physical wound. Seeing me lying on the damp floor like a gutted fish, Natalia had smiled, her face radiant. “Roxanne, Dad and Mom have agreed to let me marry Ethan.” “And I have you to thank for it,” she’d chirped. “After you threw away all my little gifts to him, he came to find me, to apologize and beg for my forgiveness. Thanks to you, we slept together that very night.” My eyes, dry for days, burned with a sudden fire. I turned my head slowly, my lips forming words that would not come out. Natalia’s smile widened. She stepped forward, grinding her heel onto two of my fingers. The agony was so intense it made my scalp tingle. I whimpered, struggling against the pain. So those little things I’d found in Ethan’s office—the hand-knitted scarf, the poorly-made clay mug—they were all from her. I had asked Ethan where they came from. He’d looked at me, his expression flat. “Jealous? They’re from a student I sponsor. If you like them, you can have them.” My possessiveness over Ethan was a fierce, ugly thing. While he was in a meeting, I’d swept everything that wasn’t from me into the trash. When he returned, he’d merely glanced at the clean desk. “You actually threw them out? You have quite a temper.” At the time, I truly believed he didn’t care. Natalia saw the despair in my eyes. She lifted her foot and brought a small hammer down on my already twisted fingers. “Don’t blame me for being cruel,” she whispered. “It was you who forced your way in. It was you who forced him to marry you.” “We were so close, Ethan and I. It was all your fault. Your fault. Your fault!” Natalia’s face twisted and warped before my eyes, growing larger and more grotesque until it consumed my vision. I snapped awake, gasping for air, my heart hammering against my ribs. It was just a dream. Thank God. Hearing the movement, Mark stood up from a chair in the corner, a frown on his face. “Mr. Gabel,” he said into his phone, “she’s awake. Are you planning to come back to ask about the tattoo?”

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In the tenth year of our marriage, my husband, Adam, had an affair. He brought his mistress’s two children to me. He said the children were pitiful and needed a father. My own daughter begged him not to leave, but he was unmoved. I didn’t fight him. I took our daughter and left. Fearing she would be mistreated by a stepfather, I never remarried. Years later, my daughter found a good man. My granddaughter was adorable, and I spent my days caring for her. Life was happy and peaceful. On my sixtieth birthday, my daughter and son-in-law said they were swamped with work. My granddaughter had a last-minute tutoring session. They promised to celebrate with me the next day. But that night, I came across a local video on my phone. In a luxurious private room at a hotel— My daughter and her family were standing with Adam. And his mistress’s two children. The six of them were gathered together, singing “Happy Birthday” to the other woman. And my daughter called her, “Mom.” 1 My daughter insisted that my sixtieth birthday had to be a grand celebration. I told her not to spend so much money. “No,” she said. “I’ve seen how hard you’ve worked all these years. This has to be a proper celebration.” Her words warmed my heart. I was deeply touched. All these years, I had raised her alone. I watched her grow up, get married, and have a child of her own. My son-in-law was a good man, treating me like his own mother. My granddaughter was a sweet, lovely child who called me “Grandma” in the most adorable voice. I was happy. The pain of Adam’s betrayal had slowly healed over the years. So, when my daughter brought up the idea of a big party, I was genuinely moved and looked forward to the day. When you get older, you crave the liveliness of family, the feeling of being surrounded by your children and grandchildren. It gives you something to look forward to. On the day of my birthday, I woke up early. I tidied myself up, took my granddaughter, Rebecca, to school, and left breakfast on the table for my daughter and son-in-law before they left for work. My daughter, Eva, had promised they would finish their work in the morning and come home early to start the party. I stayed home, cleaning the house, waiting for them. But I waited and waited. The agreed-upon time came and went, and Eva still wasn’t home. Worried something had happened, I was just about to call her when my phone rang. It was her. “Mom, something important came up at work, for both me and Will. It’s so sudden. We can’t get away. I don’t think we can celebrate your birthday today…” Her voice was full of guilt. I was disappointed, but their careers were more important. I tried to sound cheerful. “It’s okay, dear. Work comes first. You two focus on your jobs. I’ll go pick up Rebecca from…” “Oh!” She cut me off before I could finish. “Mom, it’s your birthday. You should take a break. A friend of mine is passing by the school this afternoon and will pick Rebecca up and bring her to my office. You just stay home and rest.” Thinking of how hard Eva was working, and how young Rebecca was, I protested. “Let me get her. You’re so busy, and she’s at that rambunctious age. She’ll distract you from your work.” At that, Eva sounded agitated, her voice rising. “No, really, it’s on my friend’s way. Mom, don’t worry about it. Just rest at home. I have a meeting soon, so I have to go.” She hung up before I could say another word. Listening to the dial tone, I sighed. Eva had been working so hard lately, she’d lost weight. I went back into the kitchen to stew a chicken for her and Will, to help them regain their strength. The chicken needed to cook for a long time, and I had already finished the housework. So I sat on the sofa, took out my phone, and decided to rest for a bit. When you’re older, you find simple pleasures in things like scrolling through videos. I opened the app, swiped through a few, but nothing caught my eye. Just as I was about to close it, I accidentally tapped on the “Local” feed. And I saw her. I recognized the back of her head instantly. It was my daughter, Eva. 2 The video had been posted half an hour ago. I tapped on it. The scene was a private room in a hotel. My daughter stood at a table, my son-in-law beside her, holding Rebecca’s hand. All three of them were smiling. Eva turned her head slightly, and the camera panned. And then, I saw Adam. If there was one person in this world I hated, it was, without a doubt, Adam. We had fallen in love when we were young. I thought we would have a lifetime of happiness together. But in the tenth year of our marriage, his first love’s husband died in a car accident, leaving her a widow with two young children. Such a pitiful sight. At first, he helped them secretly, behind my back. When I found out, we had a huge fight. His face was red with fury as he called me heartless. Then, he came to me, with his first love’s two children in his arms, and handed me the divorce papers. “Leo and Violet are too young,” he said. “They can’t be without a father.” So he was divorcing me to be with his first love, to become a father to these two children. As he said this, our own daughter, then named Amy, clung to his leg, sobbing, begging her daddy not to leave. But Adam turned and walked away without a second glance. I didn’t prolong the agony. I took most of his assets and left with our daughter. I changed her surname to mine, Wang. From Amy, she became Eva. Fearing she would be mistreated by a stepfather, I never remarried. I devoted my life to her, watching her grow, go to university, fall in love, get married, and then have the adorable Rebecca. And through all of this, Adam never once appeared in our lives. I heard rumors that he and his first love never had children of their own, that they raised her two children as their own, tirelessly and without complaint. Eva had once told me that she hated Adam as much as I did. I thought that she, who had memories of the divorce, would remember my pain and shun them like the plague. But I never imagined they were still in contact. Not only that, in the video, Eva and Adam stood side by side, heads bowed in conversation, with not a trace of hatred between them. Eva was even leading the “Happy Birthday” song. My son-in-law and Rebecca clapped along, and the mistress’s two children, now grown, joined in the singing. And the woman in the center of their circle, the star of the show, was Adam’s first love, Sophia. She was as radiant as ever, dressed in a beautiful gown, still treated like a princess. She and I share the same birthday. And the cruelest joke of all— My daughter, Eva, the light of my life, after the song finished, walked up to Sophia, hugged her, and called her, “Mom.” 3 My phone slipped from my hand and clattered to the floor, the video still playing on a loop. My chest ached, but more than the pain, there was a sense of disbelief. I tried to find an excuse, any reason to make it not true. My daughter, who had been my whole world, who had witnessed her father’s cruelty, who had seen how Sophia played the innocent victim while destroying our family—how could she call that woman… Mom? I sat on the sofa for a long time, numb, until the acrid smell of something burning pulled me back to reality. The chicken soup had boiled dry. I rushed to turn off the stove, my mind in a turmoil. I reached for the pot with my bare hands, searing my fingers. A large red welt immediately appeared. Just as I was about to treat the burn, the doorbell rang. I opened the door to find a delivery man holding a cake. The cake I had ordered for myself. A small one. When you’re old, you tend to get sentimental. After Eva’s call, I had gone online and ordered a small cake. A celebration for one is still a celebration. I placed the cake on the coffee table and stuck a few candles in it. I clasped my hands together and closed my eyes to make a wish. I had had my wishes all planned out. I wish for my precious daughter to have a happy and smooth life. I wish for my son-in-law to love my daughter forever. I wish for my adorable Rebecca to be healthy and smart. Those were the wishes I had intended to make. But now— When I closed my eyes, all I could see was Eva lying to me about working late, then taking her husband and child to celebrate Sophia’s birthday. In the video, Sophia was surrounded by people, her birthday celebration so lively. They looked like a real family. Unlike me, alone and cold, a clown, a joke. The child I had given birth to had become a knife plunged into my heart. The pain was unbearable. Tears, useless and unwelcome, streamed down my face. I wiped them away and made a new wish. “I wish… that for the rest of my days, I will be happy.” That’s right. For so many years, all my wishes had been for my child. Never for myself. And now, I saw how little it was worth. I took a couple of bites of the cake. It was too sweet, cloying. I glanced at the time. It was already eleven at night. Usually, by now, I would have finished all the housework, put the child to bed, and gone to sleep myself. But tonight, I couldn’t sleep. A moment later— I heard a noise at the front door. Eva tiptoed in, but as she passed the entryway, she saw me sitting in the living room. She froze, a flicker of panic in her eyes. My son-in-law and Rebecca followed behind her, chattering about the birthday party until they saw me and fell silent. Rebecca, trying to act innocent, blinked her big eyes, held out her arms to me, and said she missed her grandma and wanted a hug. But as she ran towards me, I didn’t scoop her up with my usual affection. This child, from the moment she was born, I had poured all my love into her, just as I had with Eva. My son-in-law had no parents, and they were both so busy. In this big city, expenses were high. I had taken care of Rebecca so they could work without worry. But she, so young, had also betrayed me, just like her mother. Eva walked towards me, still trying to pretend nothing was wrong. She rubbed her shoulders and complained about how busy her day had been, promising to make it up to me tomorrow. Her eyes fell on the small cake on the coffee table, and she paused. “Mom, you bought yourself a cake?” Maybe it was because my cake was so small, or maybe because the one they had for Sophia was so large, but the guilt in her eyes deepened. I saw no point in beating around the bush. I asked her directly, “Eva, where were you today?” She froze, her eyes searching my face, as if looking for something. In the end, she chose to play dumb. “Mom, what are you talking about? I was at work.” She glanced at Will and Rebecca. Will nodded quickly. “That’s right, Mom. I was swamped today. My back is killing me.” Rebecca, mimicking her father, shook her head like a bobblehead doll. “Grandma, we didn’t go eat cake today, we didn’t—” Children are not very good at lying. The more they talk, the more they reveal. Eva didn’t even have time to cover her mouth. She could only offer a strained smile, her eyes darting around as she tried to come up with another lie. “Mom, don’t misunderstand. Rebecca was getting restless at my office, so I bought her a small piece of cake.” The flimsy lie was a deep disappointment. I took out my phone, found the video, and tossed it in front of her. She froze, her mouth opening and closing as if she wanted to explain. But in the end, she sighed, flopped onto the sofa beside me, and adopted a defiant tone. “Oh, Mom! It’s been so many years! I know you hate Dad, but he and I are related by blood. For your sake, I’ve barely seen him all these years. Isn’t that enough? You’re so old now, what grudges can’t you let go of? Even if you can’t, don’t drag me into it! Have I ever missed one of your birthdays? Aunt… Sophia has the same birthday as you. She never says anything, but I know she wants the family to be together. I figured, since we live together, we can celebrate your birthday any day. So I celebrated with her first, and I’ll make it up to you tomorrow. What’s the big deal? Mom, you’re not a child anymore. Stop throwing tantrums! Will and I are exhausted from work every day. Being with Dad is actually relaxing for me. Can’t you just try to see things from my perspective for once?” Her whining words chilled my already cold heart. “So,” I asked, “you’re blaming me for keeping you from your father?” I looked at Eva. She didn’t resemble Adam at all; she looked more like me. That’s why, when we divorced, Adam had poured all his fatherly love onto Sophia’s two children, especially her daughter, Violet. The first time I saw her, she was only six, but she was the spitting image of Sophia. Adam adored her. Back then, Eva had cried hysterically, curled up in my arms, asking me over and over, “Mommy, why doesn’t Daddy want me? Why is he going to be someone else’s daddy? Doesn’t he love me anymore?” Seeing her cry broke my heart. The child I had carried for ten months, saddled with such an irresponsible father. It was a tragedy. But now, it all seemed like a joke. Eva, oblivious to the change in my tone, started to whine like she always did. “Mom, that’s not what I mean. But think about it, Dad is getting old. No matter what, I have his blood in me. After so many years, shouldn’t the hatred have faded? And Aunt Sophia… she’s actually a very nice person. She only stole Dad away because she was worried Leo and Violet wouldn’t have a father. She even apologized to me and buys me gifts, treats me like her own daughter. Whatever happened in the past, you’re old now. Why do you have to keep clinging to that old baggage?” Her complaints were laughable. The father who had abandoned her without a backward glance, the father she had cried for in the middle of the night, asking me why he didn’t want her. And Sophia, the other woman, who had bought her a few gifts and was now forgiven? I shook her hand off me. “Eva, so in your eyes, my not forgiving Adam and Sophia is me being unreasonable?” She nodded, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Of course it is! I was young then, I’ve forgotten most of the bad stuff. When I close my eyes now, all I remember are the good times with Dad when I was a little girl. We were so happy then. So, Mom, I hope you can forget too. We can be a family again, like before. Aunt Sophia is really nice, you two could probably be like sis… ah!” Before she could finish, I slapped her across the face. She shrieked, jumped to her feet, and clutched her cheek, yelling at me, “Mom, what did you hit me for?! With a temper like yours, it’s no wonder Dad prefers gentle, quiet Sophia!” With that, she ran into her room, crying. My son-in-law and Rebecca followed, trying to comfort her. The door was left ajar. I could vaguely hear their voices. “…getting old and senile…” “…holding a grudge for a lifetime…” “…cranky old woman…” “…so annoying…” And more. These were the words of the daughter I had loved for half my life. In that moment, my heart truly died. I stood up, went to my room, packed my bags, and left the homeowners’ association group chat on my phone. Eva and her husband had worked hard for years, but the housing prices in the capital were astronomical. They were still paying off their mortgage every month. I had felt sorry for them, so I had been supplementing their income with my pension and paying their mortgage, as well as their utilities, groceries, and even Rebecca’s tutoring fees. Now that I was leaving, I would no longer be contributing. Whether they could afford it on their own was no longer my concern. Besides that, I had another property that no one, not even Eva, knew about. I had bought it as a precaution against my son-in-law, in case he turned out to be like Adam. The property was in my name, and I had planned to transfer it to Eva after I was gone. Now, it seemed, that was no longer necessary. That property would be my new home. With a handsome pension every month, I could live quite comfortably on my own. When I left my room, Eva was still crying. The cake was still on the table. Everything was a mess. I dragged my suitcase and left without a second of hesitation.

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His childhood sweetheart was trapped in an elevator shaft for half an hour. In a blind rage, my husband shoved me into a suitcase and zipped it shut. “You will suffer double what she suffered,” he snarled. Curled in the suffocating darkness, I gasped for air, my tears and apologies met only with his cold reprimand. “Take your punishment. A good lesson will teach you to behave.” He locked the suitcase, with me inside it, in the wardrobe. I screamed. I struggled. Blood seeped from the seams of the case, staining the floorboards. Five days later, in a moment of fleeting pity, he decided to end my punishment. “A small lesson to teach a greater one,” he mused. “I’ll let you off this time.” But he didn’t know. He couldn’t have known. My body had already rotted into an unrecognizable sludge. … 1 “That jealous shrew… has she learned her lesson yet? Why hasn’t she been causing trouble the last few days?” “See? A little punishment is all it takes to make her understand her place.” His assistant’s face suddenly went pale. “Mr. Briggs… about your wife… I… I don’t think she’s been let out yet.” A tremor went through Gabriel’s hand, but he quickly suppressed it. “A few more days of reflection won’t hurt her.” His assistant hesitated, then spoke again, his voice trembling. “Sir, a… a terrible smell is coming from the room where you locked Mrs. Briggs. Perhaps… you should go and see?” Gabriel’s voice turned to ice. “A smell? Of course there’s a smell. A woman like her, so desperate to cling to life, she’d do anything to survive. She’s probably eating her own waste. What do you expect?” The assistant tried to speak again, but Gabriel cut him off, his face a mask of disgust. “Enough. I’ll let her out tomorrow. A few days should be enough to teach her some manners. When she comes out, she will apologize properly to Evelyn, and we can put this all behind us.” Just as he finished speaking, Evelyn appeared in the doorway, barefoot and ethereal. Gabriel’s expression melted into one of profound tenderness. “Evie, are you still having nightmares? Don’t worry, I’ve punished Claire severely. I’ll make her pay a thousand times over for what you went through.” He swept her into his arms, his fingers gently tracing the line of her hair. “Gabriel, you’re the best to me,” Evelyn murmured into his chest, her voice a sweet, childish purr. “I’m sure Claire knows she was wrong now. I only wanted an apology, I never wanted her to be punished. She won’t blame me, will she?” Watching their cloying display of affection, I couldn’t help but laugh. A silent, hollow laugh that disturbed nothing. I was already dead. In the last, suffocating moments of my life, my soul had drifted free from that cramped, terrifying suitcase. From this third-person perspective, I could see the dark, crusted stains of blood that had soaked through the fabric. The wardrobe that held my tomb was secured with a heavy padlock, as if to ensure its prisoner would never, ever escape. Even as a spirit, the sight of that scene, the memory of the airless dark, made me want to shut my eyes. Meanwhile, Gabriel was whispering sweet reassurances to Evelyn. “Another nightmare? Don’t be afraid. I’ll always be here to protect you.” He gently stroked her cheek. “You’ve been through so much, my poor Evie.” His voice hardened. “Do you know what she’s like? She’s so desperate to live, she’d even… she’d consume her own filth. A person who values her own life so much, yet she dared to harm you. I’ll make her pay.” I hovered there, stunned into a state beyond tears. Gabriel was right. I did desperately want to live. The suitcase was too small. To make me fit, he had bent my arm back until the bone snapped. I had endured the searing pain, tried to find a way to escape, and when I realized it was hopeless, I focused on conserving my energy, on trying to last as long as possible. But he had forgotten. He had forgotten that when he forced me into that box, I was pregnant. The prolonged, contorted position put unbearable pressure on my belly. A sharp, stabbing pain made me lose control. I thrashed, but it was useless. In the final moments of my life, a primal, desperate will to survive took over. I screamed, I clawed at the zipper with my toenails, fighting for one last sliver of hope. His only response was a cold, merciless judgment from the other side of the door. “You’re this terrified? Imagine how helpless Evie must have felt. You stay in there and feel the pain. It’s the only way you’ll learn.” I had confessed. I had admitted to crimes I didn’t commit, begging him to let me out. Then, a warm gush of blood spread from between my legs, and my strength finally gave out. Through a haze of fading consciousness, I heard his final verdict. “She’s too loud. Still doesn’t know the rules. Lock it up. Let her reflect in silence.” I tried to plead, my voice a strangled rasp, but I could do nothing but listen as the heavy padlock clicked into place, extinguishing the last sliver of light, and my life along with it. 2 “Go and let Claire out. Tell her to clean herself up before she comes to apologize. I don’t want her stinking up the place and offending Evie’s eyes.” Gabriel’s tone was dismissive. The assistant nodded uncomfortably. Evelyn’s eyes sparkled as she clung to Gabriel’s arm. “Gabriel, when Claire comes out, you have to be nice to her. Don’t be angry anymore. You two are married, after all. You shouldn’t fight so ugly.” A flicker of annoyance crossed Gabriel’s face, but his hand gently kneaded her fingers. “She wouldn’t dare be angry. Because of her carelessness, you were trapped in that elevator for half an hour. I can’t even imagine how scared and helpless you must have been. Evie, you’re just too good, too kind. That’s why she takes advantage of you.” His voice was thick with repressed rage, as if he were afraid of frightening her. But to my ears, his words were a symphony of mockery. A week ago, while Gabriel was in a board meeting, Evelyn had come to our apartment to provoke me. “So what if you’re pregnant? He’ll never love the baby. It will be just as pathetic and unloved as you are.” I didn’t bother to argue. I just told her to get out. But on her way down, the elevator malfunctioned. She got stuck between floors. Trapped, she sent a long, dramatic farewell text to Gabriel, saying she probably wouldn’t make it out alive. “I know Claire doesn’t like me. I just hope that after I’m gone, she can take good care of you in my place.” “Gabriel, my love, perhaps we’ll meet in the next life.” The moment Gabriel saw the message, he abandoned his meeting and raced home like a madman, mobilizing every emergency service in the city. He finally found her, unconscious, in the elevator shaft. I had stood nearby, watching him cradle her in his arms, his anguished cries echoing in the hallway. “Evie, don’t leave me…” At the time, I thought they were ridiculous. Trapped for half an hour, and they were acting like it was a life-and-death tragedy. It was only when Gabriel grabbed me by the hair and brutally folded me into the suitcase that I understood. The love was for them. The tragedy was for me. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” he had roared, his face contorted with rage. “Evie has claustrophobia! You almost killed her! Even if she survives, she’ll be scarred for life!” “Claire, I’m going to teach you that you can’t just do whatever you want because you’re my wife. If you don’t admit you were wrong, you are never getting out of there.” And now, he was still waiting, his face a cold mask, for me to come crawling back to him, begging for forgiveness. Too bad for him. That was never going to happen. “Sir… Sir! Mrs. Briggs… she… she’s not breathing! There’s no sign of life!” Gabriel froze for a second. I watched him closely, thinking, hoping for at least a flicker of remorse. He just laughed, a casual, dismissive sound. “She’s acting. The wicked live long. You think she’d die that easily?” He tapped his fingers on the desk, his voice detached. “If she’s dead, call the crematorium. Have them come and get her. If she loves pretending to be dead so much, let’s show her the consequences.” He turned to his assistant, his voice sharp. “Go and tell her she has half an hour to get cleaned up and come here. If she doesn’t, the punishment continues until she learns to stop her games.” The assistant was trembling, but before he could speak, Gabriel snapped, “Still standing there? Do you want to be punished too?” He wrapped his arm around Evelyn, his voice softening. “Evie, when she comes, you can’t be soft on her. You have to be strong. I’m going to make her kneel and apologize to you. That’s her punishment. You can’t feel sorry for her, do you understand?” Evelyn looked at him, her eyes wide with feigned compassion. “Oh, Gabriel…” I couldn’t even summon the energy to hate them anymore. But for some reason, my soul felt tethered, unable to leave. I was forced to watch as Gabriel mocked me, laughed at me. 3 This was the man I had loved for ten years. Three years of high school, four years of university, and three years of dating and marriage. What I never knew was that from the very beginning, he saw me as nothing more than a stain on his life. I had followed him like a shadow for seven years, believing my devotion could melt his icy exterior. The day he accepted my confession of love, I was so happy I couldn’t sleep. What I didn’t know was that he only agreed to marry me because his company’s funding had dried up, and he needed an infusion of my family’s capital. In our two years of marriage, I had poured everything I had into supporting his career. I took care of him, catered to his every need, tried to win him over. And slowly, he seemed to change. He started waiting up for me, making me breakfast, gently massaging my stomach when I had cramps. I almost, almost believed I had finally won his love. The day I found out I was pregnant, I was ecstatic, practically dancing around him. But his reaction was ice cold. “Claire. You’re saying you’re pregnant?” I didn’t hear the suspicion in his voice. I just nodded eagerly. “Hah,” he scoffed. “But I have a low sperm count. It’s nearly impossible for me to father a child. You know where that baby came from, don’t you?” I desperately tried to prove my innocence. I relayed the doctor’s words to him. “After nine weeks, we can do a test. I would never, ever betray you.” What I didn’t know was that on the very day I discovered my pregnancy, Evelyn had returned to the country. He had told her about my pregnancy, treating it like a joke. The iceberg I had spent a decade trying to melt had refrozen in an instant. Can a soul feel heartache? All I knew was that I couldn’t breathe. The suffocating despair of the suitcase washed over me again. Gabriel, still holding Evelyn, grew more and more agitated. “Why is she taking so long? After all this time to reflect, she still hasn’t learned her lesson? Is she trying to spite me?” He muttered under his breath, “Your bones better be as hard as your head, Claire.” I watched him, a cold spectator. His hand, which had been calmly playing with a string of prayer beads, was now fumbling, his movements agitated. A flicker of unease crossed his face. “Evie, I’m going to see what she’s up to. Don’t worry, I’ll make her come and apologize to you.” He stood up and strode toward the room where I was confined. As he neared the door, he wrinkled his nose in disgust. “What is that smell?” The assistant stood behind him, his shirt soaked with cold sweat. “Mr. Briggs… you should see for yourself.” I didn’t know what to feel. My spirit tensed. It would take courage to face the gruesome reality of my own death. Gabriel pushed the door open. The suitcase had been dragged out of the wardrobe and thrown onto the floor. The zipper was partially open, then hastily covered again. He stared at it, annoyed. “Claire, I let you out, and you’re still hiding? You plan on living in there forever?” Was it that I didn’t want to come out? I had fought until my last breath, just for one more glimpse of the sun. But there were no more chances. “Still throwing a tantrum? I give you an inch, and you take a mile, is that it?” He walked over to the suitcase. The stench was so overpowering it made his eyes water, but he didn’t stop. He lifted his foot and kicked it. “You stink! Go and clean yourself up! Who are you trying to disgust?” He kicked it hard. The suitcase toppled over, the lid flying open. And there I was, in all my horrifying glory. The body inside was twisted into an unnatural shape, my arm bent back at a ninety-degree angle. The look of terror was frozen on my face, my eyes and mouth stretched wide, my eyeballs bulging. My lower body was caked in a dark, dried crust of blood. Gabriel stumbled back, his voice shaking. 4 “Who put this… this dead thing in here to scare me? Where’s Claire? Find her! Does she think she can just plant a mannequin here and escape? I’m not an idiot! Find her, now!” I laughed until spiritual tears streamed down my face. What was this act of feigned ignorance? I was lying right there, my body rotting. Where else was he going to find me? “Mr. Briggs, your wife… she’s dead! The body is decomposing!” the assistant stammered. Gabriel glared at him. “You’re lying! You’re helping her trick me? Do you think I’m a fool? That I’ll see a smelly mannequin and believe she’s dead? I’ll tear this city apart, but I will find her!” He stormed out, ordering the room to be locked again, and sent his men to search for me. Evelyn saw his grim face and hurried to his side, wrapping her arms around his neck. “What’s wrong, Gabriel? Did Claire make you angry again? Don’t worry, Evie’s here for you.” He picked her up and sat on the sofa, his voice still trembling. “She’s gone too far this time. Faking her own death to run away! But no matter where she goes, I’ll find her. She still owes you an apology, and I’ll make her say it to your face.” So, even after seeing my corpse, he refused to believe it. Was it just because he needed me alive to apologize to Evelyn? I felt a wave of pathetic, self-deprecating humor. He pulled up the security footage from the room. The video clearly showed me being locked in, my struggles, my screams, and then… the gradual silence. But Gabriel still wouldn’t believe it. “The footage is the same at the end. It would be easy to edit. Claire, you really are a master of deception.” He slammed his fist into the computer monitor. Evelyn yelped, startled by his sudden violence, and clung to him, her eyes wide. Gabriel immediately softened, his voice turning gentle again. “It’s okay, Evie, don’t be scared. I’m just angry that she’s so irresponsible. Trying to just run away! Don’t you worry. I’ll have her back here before your birthday. And then, I’ll make her kneel before everyone and beg for your forgiveness!” A triumphant gleam appeared in Evelyn’s eyes. She leaned in and placed a soft kiss on his forehead. It was a fleeting touch, but it made Gabriel blush. Even I felt a little embarrassed for them. Sorry, didn’t mean to intrude on your little moment. I had always known about Evelyn. I knew about her from the moment I first fell for Gabriel. His social media profile picture was a childhood photo of the two of them. In it, a tiny Evelyn beamed at the camera, and he looked at her with an adoration that was impossible to hide. Some people’s love is just like that: blatant and unapologetic. Just like mine.

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I was treating my in-laws to dinner when my wife’s male assistant showed up at checkout. He saw my mother-in-law packing up the leftover fish soup and slapped the bag out of her hands. The soup splashed all over her. “If you can’t afford it, don’t eat here! How can a poor old hag like you be CEO Chan’s mother-in-law? Stop embarrassing her!” I asked the restaurant to prepare a fresh portion of the soup for us to take home. The assistant punched me to the ground. “This is a members-only restaurant. You’re using CEO Chan’s card, aren’t you? Can’t you earn your own money? You have to use her money to support your hick parents?” The stress sent my father-in-law to the hospital. I called my wife, Valerie, to come and sign the surgical consent forms. She just laughed. “Adrian told me everything. Your father gets sick and you try to trick me into paying for it? Has your whole family gone crazy for money?” “If he’s going to die, tell him to die quickly. And keep him away from me. It’s bad luck.” 1 “Valerie, your father is in the emergency room. You need to get to the hospital, now!” Her voice was casual, unconcerned. “Oh? What a coincidence. The moment I get to Adrian’s place, my dad suddenly has a problem? Thomas, next time you make up an excuse, can you curse yourself? Stop cursing my parents.” My father-in-law was downstairs in the ER, and my mother-in-law had fainted from the shock. I was by her bedside, completely overwhelmed. The doctor had already issued a critical condition notice for my father-in-law. Clinging to the last shred of our connection, I wanted Valerie to see her father one last time. I swallowed my anger and tried again. “I’m not lying. You can ask Adrian if you don’t believe me. I took your parents to dinner, and he was the one who kept provoking them until your father collapsed. Dad’s been declared critical. You need to come and sign the papers. If you wait any longer, you might not get to see him…” Valerie cut me off with a roar of fury. I heard her phone clatter to the floor, her shouts coming in broken waves. “Thomas, are you ever going to quit?! Adrian told me everything! Your hick parents came to town, and you used my money to treat them to a fancy dinner. I let that slide. Now the old man is sick, and you want me to come over? You just want me to be there to swipe my card, don’t you? You think I don’t know your little schemes?” “I told you before, Thomas! You only married me for my money, didn’t you? Well, you’ll never see a single cent of it, not even when you die!” I could hear Adrian murmuring comforts to her in the background. Then, his voice came on the line, sharp and mocking. “Thomas, I saw it with my own eyes. The old country woman is fine. Why don’t you put her on the phone? Don’t you think CEO Chan would recognize her own mother’s voice?” I fell silent. My mother-in-law had just fallen asleep in her hospital bed, an oxygen mask over her face. Waking her up now, just to prove to her own daughter that her husband was dying in the ER… I couldn’t imagine the pain it would cause her. After a long pause, I sighed. “Your mother just fell asleep. I don’t want to disturb her.” There was no response. I could hear the rustle of clothes, followed by the soft moans of two people lost in a passionate kiss. A long moment passed before Valerie’s voice, husky and intimate, came back on the line. “If you can’t provide any proof, then stop bothering me. Or would you rather listen to us get down to business?” Adrian laughed. “If you’re into that, Valerie, I don’t mind. But it does kind of kill the mood. Why don’t we just turn off the phone? Then no one can interrupt us.” “Okay~ Whatever you say.” The line went dead. The world returned to a suffocating silence. A lump of acid formed in my throat. My fingers clenched into a fist. My in-laws were good people. Even though my marriage to Valerie was a hollow shell, I still wished them health and longevity. But now, my father-in-law was fighting for his life, and his own daughter would rather fool around with her assistant than be by his side. They were educated, cultured people, too dignified to argue with Adrian in public. But their restraint had only emboldened him, letting him spew his venom until he’d literally pushed my father-in-law to the brink of death. 2 Two hours earlier, I was having dinner with my in-laws at The Lunar Court. The Lunar Court used to be my family’s restaurant. It was also their favorite, and Valerie’s. As we were leaving, my mother-in-law carefully packed up the leftover fish soup. “Valerie said she’s coming home for dinner tonight. She’s loved the fish soup here since she was a little girl. I’ll take it home and make her some noodles. A little taste of her childhood.” She was smiling, telling me stories about Valerie as a child, when a figure suddenly rushed forward and slapped the container out of her hands. The hot soup splashed all over her, getting in her eyes. My father-in-law and I forgot about everything else, scrambling to help her. But the man wasn’t finished. “Thomas, do you know where you are? This is The Lunar Court! Where did this poor trash come from, packing up leftover soup? You have the nerve to eat here?” He was decked out in designer clothes, clothes Valerie had bought him. He looked my in-laws up and down with disdain. “What are these old geezers wearing? If your parents are this poor, they should stick to street stalls. What are they doing at The Lunar Court? Valerie was right. You really are just after her money! Shameless!” My father-in-law understood. Adrian thought my in-laws were my parents and was mocking them for being poor. A man of dignity, he chose not to correct him, but to defend my parents instead. “Young man, how can you speak like that? It’s not your place to decide who is worthy of eating at The Lunar Court. Besides, we are your elders, and Thomas is older than you. You should not be so disrespectful. Please, apologize.” But Adrian didn’t apologize. He lifted his foot and aimed a vicious kick at my father-in-law. If I hadn’t pulled him back, he would have crashed to the floor. “Apologize?” Adrian sneered. “Do you know who I am? I’m the boyfriend of the CEO of the Chan Corporation! All I have to do is ask, and she’d give me this whole restaurant. What are you?” “You probably don’t know, but your useless son has already been kicked out of the family! He didn’t get a penny! And you’re here, enjoying a feast, expecting CEO Chan to foot the bill? Dream on!” As he spoke, a line of uniformed security guards from the restaurant appeared behind him. The staff had all been replaced since I last managed the place. My in-laws were always low-key, so no one recognized us. The guards bowed respectfully to Adrian, then, without a word, they forced the three of us to the ground. “How dare you poor filth eat at The Lunar Court! Do you know who you’ve offended? This is CEO Chan’s favorite. You’ve upset him. Let’s see how she deals with you!” My father-in-law already had bad legs. His knee hit the ground hard, and he couldn’t get back up. Beads of sweat broke out on his forehead. “Stop!” I yelled. “I am Thomas Qin, Valerie Chan’s husband! And these are her parents! Open your eyes and look! Get Mr. Chan to a hospital now! If anything happens to him, you will be held responsible!” The manager sneered and slapped me hard across the face. “I’ve seen this pathetic dine-and-dash trick a million times! People claim to be CEO Chan’s boyfriend every day to get a free meal. Funny how we’ve never seen her bring you here. So far, the only person she’s ever personally brought to dine here is Mr. Pitt. We only listen to Mr. Pitt.” Adrian beamed, his smile wide and predatory. “These people probably can’t pay. Take them to the kitchen. They can wash dishes to work off their bill.” The manager and his men ignored our protests. They confiscated our phones and threw us into the kitchen, forcing us to wash dishes and scrub floors under their watchful eyes. Any hesitation was met with a blow. It wasn’t until my father-in-law, locked in the sweltering garbage room, collapsed from lack of air that the manager realized he might have a death on his hands. They quickly threw us out the back door. As I was getting into the ambulance, my eyes met Adrian’s. He was standing at the restaurant entrance, his expression dark and menacing. “Thomas,” he said, his voice a low threat, “this was just a little lesson. This is what happens when you cross me.”

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1 My mother was on her deathbed. I called my brother, who was on vacation in Egypt with his wife, and begged him to come back to see our mother one last time. By some miracle, she pulled through. But his wife, my sister-in-law, died in a tragic accident abroad. While sorting through her belongings, my brother found her diary. In it, she wrote about how my mother and I had alienated her, how she felt she had no place in our family. That was the last straw. My brother cut us out of his life, and for nine years, we didn’t hear a word from him. Then, on the tenth anniversary of his wife’s death, he set our house on fire, killing us all. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my mother was first admitted to the hospital. The first thing I did was rush to her side. Her condition was already critical, her life sustained only by the rhythmic pulse and hiss of a ventilator. The room was silent save for the sterile, incessant beeping of the machines. A knock at the door broke the quiet. The doctor beckoned my father and me into the hallway. “I need you to sign the critical condition notice,” he said, his voice gentle but firm. “We’re at the final stage. Whether she makes it through is… well, it’s up to her now.” The pen trembled in my father’s hand, the tip hovering over the signature line, unable to make its mark. Seeing his anguish, I took charge. I gently took the pen from him and signed my name, Anna. The doctor took the clipboard. “If there are any other close family members,” he advised, his eyes full of sympathy, “you should call them. She may not last the night.” At those words, my father’s composure shattered. He broke down, sobbing like a child. After a long moment, he wiped his tears, his face etched with grief. “Anna,” he rasped, “call your brother. Tell Nicholas to come home.” My immediate instinct was to refuse. In my last life, I did exactly that. I called Nicholas, and he caught the first flight back from Egypt. The good news was that my mother, seeing him, rallied. She fought off the illness and made a full recovery. The bad news was that his wife, Rachel, left alone in a foreign country, was abducted. The next time we saw her, she was a body in a morgue. Nicholas never blamed us to our faces, but I knew he could never forgive us. The memory of the fire he set, the heat and the smoke, was a phantom limb I could still feel. I couldn’t go through that again. “Dad,” I said, shaking my head. “He’s halfway across the world. Even if we called him now, he’d never make it in time. I’m here. I can take care of everything. We don’t need to bother him.” My father looked at me, confused. I was the one who always ran to my big brother for everything. Why the sudden change of heart? “Anna, I get that you want to step up, but if your brother doesn’t get to see your mother one last time, he’ll hate you for it!” But Dad, you don’t understand, I thought. If he comes back, his wife will die, and he’ll hate all of us. I couldn’t voice those fears. Instead, I gripped his hand, my voice steady and urgent. “Dad, trust me. Mom is going to pull through. I know it.” He stared at me for a long time before finally putting his phone away. Just then, our family group chat buzzed. It was Nicholas. I opened the message, my heart sinking as I read. “I know you guys never liked Rachel, but we’ve been on this trip for days. Has it occurred to any of you to even ask how we are?” “Other people’s families are a safe haven. You all just treat me like I’m invisible, don’t you?” “Anna, say something. You fall off the face of the earth?” I didn’t have to guess. Those were Rachel’s words, channeled through my brother. She had a major princess complex with a pauper’s reality, always finding fault, always dreaming of a life she couldn’t afford. But I couldn’t say that now. With a sigh, I typed a reply while we waited for news about Mom. “Nicholas, Rachel, hope you made it safely! Have an amazing time. Things are just a little crazy at home right now, Mom and Dad are swamped.” That night, luck was on our side. Mom’s condition stabilized enough for surgery. “If she wakes up on her own after this,” the surgeon told us, “she’ll be out of the woods.” My father, overwhelmed with gratitude, shook the surgeon’s hand, repeating “thank you” over and over. As we waited outside the OR, a nurse from admissions approached us. “Excuse me, who is the family of Helen Miller?” My father and I raised our hands. “Her bill is overdue,” the nurse said, handing us a statement. “And this doesn’t include the costs for the upcoming surgery.” My mother had been in the ICU for three days. There was one surgery when she was admitted, and now this was the second. All told, the medical bills had climbed to an astronomical forty-eight thousand dollars. 2 I was a recent graduate with barely any savings. My parents were hardworking, blue-collar folks their whole lives; the fifteen thousand they’d managed to put away was the fruit of a lifetime of labor. We pooled everything we had, called in every small favor, and still came up five thousand dollars short. With no other choice, I dialed my brother’s number. “Nicholas? It’s me. Listen, something’s happened at home. Could you possibly lend me five thousand dollars?” His response was immediate and scathing. “Have you no shame, Anna? Rachel and I are on a budget over here, pinching every penny, and you have the nerve to ask for five grand? Do you think money grows on trees?” “No, it’s not for me,” I stammered. “It’s for the family. It’s an emergency…” He scoffed, his tone dripping with disdain. “An ‘emergency’? Let me guess, you got yourself into debt with some online loan shark, didn’t you? Rachel saw right through you from the start. She told me to set you straight, but I actually defended you. I thought you were better than that. Turns out…” I opened my mouth to explain, but he cut me off. “Listen to me. I’m having a great time with my wife, and I don’t want you ruining our mood. We don’t have a leech like you in our family, Anna!” He hung up. When I tried to call back, it went straight to voicemail. Desperate, I sent him a text. “Nicholas, this is seriously urgent. Please, just lend me the five thousand. I’ll write you an IOU, I promise.” His response was to block my number. Seeing my distress, my dad took his phone and called him himself. “Nicholas? Anna tried to borrow money from you. Why did you block her?” At the sound of my name, my brother’s voice turned ragged with irritation. “Anna, Anna, it’s always about Anna with you guys. You don’t give a damn about your son all the way out here, do you?” My dad tried to placate him. “Son, it’s not what you think. We’re at a downtown hospital. You know people here. Even if you can’t give us the money, maybe you could help us out, make a few calls?” But Nicholas had no intention of helping us. Or rather, of helping me. Hearing we were at the hospital only fueled his bitterness. “I remember when I was a kid with a stomach ache, begging to go to the doctor, and you told me to tough it out. But now little Anna needs a hospital, and you rush her right over? Other families favor the son; you two don’t even care about your firstborn!” “Since you obviously don’t care about me, let Anna handle everything! Why are you even calling me?” It was like he’d been brainwashed, spouting nonsense without a second thought, refusing to listen to a word of explanation. The only person who could ever talk sense into him was Mom, and she was lying unconscious in a hospital bed. My dad looked lost, utterly bewildered by his son’s behavior. “Did we do something to upset him? Why is he acting like this, like he’s a different person?” One person came to my mind: my sister-in-law, Rachel. She’d always looked at my mother and me with suspicion, as if we were plotting against her. After she had a miscarriage, she treated us like enemies. None of us ever understood why. Maybe only she knew the real reason. “Dad, forget it,” I said, my voice heavy. “If Nicholas won’t help us, we’ll figure something else out.” We couldn’t just give up. It was only money. I’d swallow my pride and call our relatives. If that failed, I’d beg the doctors for a payment plan. But when I called my uncle, the response I got was completely unexpected. “Anna? Oh, it’s you,” he said, his tone thick with disapproval. “Look, I know I’m old-fashioned, but for a young girl like you to get pregnant out of wedlock… and then to call your family asking for abortion money? Doesn’t that make you feel cheap? It just reeks of desperation. Don’t you have any self-respect?” I was floored. “Uncle Mark, what are you talking about? Unwed pregnancy? Abortion? I’m calling to borrow money, yes, but it’s not for… I’m not…” He wouldn’t let me finish. “Your brother already gave us all a heads-up. He said you needed to be taught a lesson this time, to stop being so reckless. And look, I get it. You’re a young woman, you have certain… desires. But you need to protect yourself, kid.” He hung up, leaving me in stunned silence. I finally understood. Nicholas had anticipated I’d turn to our relatives and had systematically poisoned the well, cutting off my last resort. I made several more calls, but the answer was always the same. In that moment, I was hit with a profound, soul-crushing helplessness. I had truly hit rock bottom. 3 How could my own brother be so cruel? How much did he have to hate me to do this? My constant calls must have annoyed my uncle, because he showed up at the hospital, ready to lecture me in person. “Anna, you’re not a kid anymore, but you sure are reckless. You don’t even know the first thing about men, and you go and get yourself pregnant? And you,” he said, turning to my dad, “you need to keep a better eye on her, not just dote on your precious son.” My uncle had always favored Nicholas. He didn’t like me, and he certainly didn’t like my father. He wasn’t here to help; he was here to gloat. I grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the billing office. “Uncle Mark, please, just lend me the five thousand dollars. I’m begging you. After this is over, you can yell at me all you want!” He shoved me away, and I stumbled, falling to the polished floor. “You think money just appears out of thin air? Five thousand dollars? You’ve completely lost your mind.” He was about to launch into another tirade when a sound from my mother’s room cut through the air. A long, piercing beep. The line on her heart monitor went flat.

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