Category: English

My sister-in-law’s eyesight isn’t very good. Before they got married, I was walking down the street side-by-side with my brother. She mistook me for a mistress and punched me straight in the face. My eyeball ruptured, leaving me blind in one eye. Yet, my future sister-in-law, Tiffany, just stuck out her tongue and laughed, “My eyesight is bad; I made a mistake. I’m about to marry your brother, so we’ll be family soon. You shouldn’t hold a grudge against me.” My mom and brother also told me to let it go, saying I shouldn’t ruin my brother’s lifelong happiness. After the wedding, I was taking a shower at home when Tiffany rushed into the bathroom with a kettle of boiling water and poured it over me. I suffered severe burns all over my body, but Tiffany cried and threw herself into my brother’s arms, sobbing, “I just love you too much. I can’t stand any woman being near you.” My brother was touched by her words and didn’t blame her. My entire family dumped me in the hospital to rot, and I eventually died from a massive infection. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the moment before I went out with my brother. 1 “Tiffany’s birthday is coming up. I need to get her a gift. Sis, come with me to pick one out.” Brandon shoved my shoulder, jolting me awake. The phantom pain of scalding water burning my skin hadn’t faded yet. I immediately rolled up my sleeve, only to find my arm smooth and unscarred. “What are you doing? Let’s go,” Brandon urged, his voice raising a notch when I didn’t respond. I ignored him and checked the date on my phone. Finally, I was sure. I had been reborn. “I can’t. My stomach has been killing me these past few days. I can’t go out,” I said, clutching my abdomen and frowning. “You always have so many issues. I’m a woman too; I know you’re just faking it. Get up and go shopping with your brother!” My mom heard the commotion and walked over, yanking my arm forcefully. Caught off guard, I fell to the floor. The pain I was faking suddenly became real. But now wasn’t the time to argue. I couldn’t go out. I had to save my eyes. “Mom, why don’t you go with Brandon? You have better taste than I do. If Tiffany knows you picked the gift, she’ll be even happier.” Mom rolled her eyes. “I’m busy. I don’t have time.” I knew exactly what was happening. Brandon wanted me to go so I would pay for the gift. Mom knew it too, which was why she didn’t want to go. I immediately took out my phone and transferred a sum of money to him. “I’ll pay for it. Since the season is changing, buy yourself some new clothes too.” Seeing the money, Mom’s expression softened instantly. Seeing that the bill was covered, Brandon didn’t care who went with him anymore. “Fine. Mom, go change your clothes. Let’s head out.” Mom turned to go to her bedroom, and I followed her. “Mom, wear this one. It looks good and makes you look younger and vibrant.” I pulled a bright-colored outfit from the closet and handed it to her. She put it on without a second thought. Watching the two of them leave, I let out a long sigh of relief. But soon, I followed them out. Brandon and Mom went to the mall. Brandon already knew what he wanted to buy, so they headed straight for the luxury counters on the first floor. I watched from a distance but didn’t approach. Soon, a familiar figure appeared. Brandon’s girlfriend, Tiffany, was walking arm-in-arm with her best friend toward the counters. Her friend spotted Brandon first. “Tiff, isn’t that your boyfriend over there?” Tiffany squinted and looked. She saw Brandon walking arm-in-arm with a woman, talking and laughing, looking very happy. Because the woman had her hair down, Tiffany couldn’t see her face clearly. But it didn’t matter if she could see the face. Confirming it was a woman was enough. “Great. He lied to me saying he was picking out a gift for me, but he’s actually messing around with some homewrecker. Watch me teach her a lesson!” Tiffany rolled up her sleeves and charged forward, shouting at their backs, “Brandon!” Mom and Brandon turned their heads at the sound. The next second, a fist smashed right into my mom’s eye socket. “Ah!” Mom screamed, clutching her eye and stumbling back a few steps. “You’re really desperate, aren’t you? Even going for someone this old? If you want to break up, just say it!” Brandon was terrified. When he snapped out of it, he immediately went to support Mom. Seeing this, Tiffany got even angrier. “I’ll beat you to death, you old fox! Shameless old hag!” “Are you crazy?! That’s my mom!” Brandon shouted. Tiffany’s hand froze in mid-air. “W-what?” Mom covered her eye, wailing in pain. “My eye hurts so much! I can’t see! Son, my eye!” “Auntie, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. I thought you were…” Tiffany reached out to help Mom, but after being punched, Mom wasn’t about to be nice. She ignored Tiffany and grabbed onto Brandon, screaming, “Take me to the hospital! Son, Mom can’t see!” They immediately hailed a taxi to the hospital, ignoring Tiffany the entire time. Knowing she was in the wrong and not wanting to break up yet, Tiffany followed them. Watching this farce from the shadows, I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. 2 In my previous life, after Tiffany blinded me, I demanded police involvement. But Tiffany self-righteously claimed, “My eyesight is bad. Who told you two to walk so close? Even if you’re siblings, you should have boundaries.” “You only lost one eye. Are you going to ruin your brother’s happiness forever? As a sister, you’re too vicious.” I was so angry I almost vomited blood. I took out my phone to call the police, but Mom snatched it away and slapped me across the face. “You troublemaker! You’re just blind in one eye, not both! Will you only be satisfied if your brother is unhappy?!” Because I became disabled, the promotion that belonged to me was gone. The leadership moved me to a dead-end position serving tea and water. Then came the boiling water incident. After I was scalded, Tiffany laughed maniacally. “Fox, burn to death! Burn to death!” When the steam cleared and she realized it was me, she feigned shock. “Why is it you, sis? Why are you showering in the middle of the day? Are you trying to seduce my husband?” I was in agony all over. Ignoring my nakedness, I rushed out and called 911. I needed skin grafts. But Brandon and Mom stole my savings and told the doctors, “We’re giving up treatment. Just let her pass away.” Before I died from infection, Tiffany stood over my hospital bed, looking down at me. “In your next life, stay away from other people’s husbands. Otherwise, you won’t even know how you died.” I died in excruciating pain. At my funeral, that adulterous couple still smeared my name, claiming I seduced my own brother and that my death was karma. I lived in pain and died without peace. Thankfully, the heavens opened their eyes and gave me another chance. This time, I won’t let a single one of these villains go. 3 Brandon contacted me on the way, telling me to come to the hospital. When I arrived, the doctor was examining Mom. Tiffany looked me up and down when she saw me. “You are?” In this life, I deliberately kept my distance from them, so she hadn’t met me yet. I smiled. “You must be Tiffany. I’m Brandon’s sister. You two are really a perfect match.” Hearing this, Tiffany didn’t say anything else. Her punch in the mall had used all her strength. She had intended to beat the “mistress” to death. Mom’s eyeball had ruptured on impact, and blood was continuously flowing from the corner of her eye. The doctor sighed. “We must perform surgery immediately to remove the eyeball.” Hearing this news, Mom gasped, rolled her good eye back, and nearly fainted. I quickly stepped forward to support her. “My poor mother! Who did this to you? How will you live with only one eye?!” Hearing my wailing, Mom immediately remembered she hadn’t settled the score with Tiffany yet. She stood up, grabbed Tiffany by the hair, and slapped her repeatedly with her free hand. “Bitch! Give me back my eye! Give me back my eye!” Tiffany was a bully who only picked on the weak. She was good at sneak attacks but was no match for my mom in a real fight. Beaten without the ability to fight back, she could only scream for Brandon to save her. Brandon didn’t know who to help, so he could only separate them. “Son, break up with this little slut immediately! This kind of woman absolutely cannot enter our family!” Tiffany, eyes filled with tears from the beating, clung to Brandon’s arm. “Hubby, I know I was wrong. I just lost my reason because I love you too much.” Then she looked at Mom. “Auntie, I’ve decided to devote myself to you. I’ll marry into your family as an apology. I’ll be your daughter-in-law, take care of you, and be your eyes.” Hearing this, a satisfied smile appeared on Brandon’s face. He was clearly happy with this outcome. However, Mom was not. She cursed at Tiffany, “Our family doesn’t dare to take a shrew like you! Get out! I don’t want to see you!” She didn’t forget to threaten Brandon, “If you stay with this woman, don’t call me your mother!” Seeing the stalemate, I quickly stepped in to smooth things over and led the two of them out of the ward. I sighed. “Mom is furious right now; she won’t listen to anything. You two wait outside for a bit. I’ll talk to her.” Tiffany, having just been beaten, had no patience for my mom and sat down heavily on a bench. Brandon immediately followed her. After they left, I returned to the ward. Tiffany had to marry into our family. The suffering I endured in my past life, this family needed to taste it too. I sat next to Mom and spoke earnestly, “Mom, calm down. Don’t ruin your health. The damage is done. Let’s think about the future.” Mom, still angry, looked at me. “What do you mean?” A while later, I called the two outside back in. “I agree to let you marry my son,” Mom said to Tiffany. 4 Tiffany’s face lit up, but before she could speak, Mom stopped her. “But I have conditions.” “First, you blinded one of my eyes. You have to pay for the surgery and hospitalization.” “Second, regarding the expensive wedding gifts and financial demands, I think we can skip that. If it weren’t for the fact that you’re Brandon’s girlfriend, I would have called the police. With my injury, if I pressed charges, you’d go to prison.” Tiffany was unhappy about skipping the financial gifts, but Mom immediately threatened to call the police. I quickly advised Tiffany, “Tiff, once you marry in, we’re family. Talking about money hurts relationships. Besides, you and Brandon aren’t married yet. If Mom really calls the police and arrests you, what will you do? This isn’t a domestic dispute; it’s a crime! It would ruin your future children’s chances for government jobs.” Not paying the engagement money benefited Brandon, so he immediately joined us in persuading Tiffany. She couldn’t out-talk three mouths and finally agreed. Hearing that their daughter had blinded her future mother-in-law, Tiffany’s parents didn’t dare say anything either. Because Mom needed surgery, there was no wedding ceremony. They just got the marriage certificate, and the matter was settled. Mom’s eyeball was removed, leaving a dark, hollow socket. I bought her an eyepatch so she wouldn’t scare people. Tiffany moved into our house. Mom was busy finding trouble for her every day and completely ignored me. Perhaps because they were newlyweds, Brandon and Tiffany’s relationship was still quite good. But Tiffany wouldn’t stop causing drama. One day, Tiffany wanted to visit her parents and asked Brandon to drive her. When she got in the car, she found the passenger seat had been moved forward. This time, she was slightly more rational. She didn’t make a scene immediately but kept it in mind. When she came back, she pretended to ask me casually, “Sis, did you sit in Brandon’s passenger seat a few days ago and adjust the seat?” I looked blank. “Adjust the seat? No, I didn’t.” Tiffany was silent for a moment. “Maybe my eyes are playing tricks on me.” “Yeah, I’m taller than you. If I adjusted it, I’d move it back, not forward.” After I said this, Tiffany’s hand clenched into a fist. She was already short. If the seat was moved forward, it meant the person was shorter than her. It could only be a woman. In Tiffany’s eyes, this was undoubtedly a provocation. This “mistress” was very arrogant. But it didn’t matter. She had ways to deal with her. Seeing the cruel smile on her face, I knew what she was planning. I silently stepped back into my room to avoid being caught in the crossfire. That evening, Brandon, who usually arrived home at 6:30, was late. Mom called him, but he didn’t answer. Tiffany smiled. “Mom, don’t wait for him. Let’s eat first. He probably won’t be back for a while.” Hearing this, Mom snorted coldly. “Eat, eat, you only know how to eat. My son works so hard outside and can’t even get a hot meal when he comes home.” Tiffany was clearly in a good mood and didn’t argue with Mom. A while later, the door opened. Brandon came back looking like he had lost his soul, his eyes dull, his forehead dripping with sweat. He looked up and scanned the three of us. Then he gritted his teeth and spoke, “Which one of you put superglue on my car seat?”

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I’ve been with this company for eight years, and my salary has been stuck at $3,000. Everyone says I can’t leave and that I’m a simp for my boss, Jennifer Jiang. Today is the 99th time I’ve asked for a raise. Jennifer gave me the same old line: “The company’s performance isn’t great right now. Wait a little longer.” The next day, however, I saw the company publicly recruiting interns online with a salary of $30,000—ten times mine! And on the intern’s first day, Jennifer put him at my desk. Only then did I realize I had been replaced! I turned around and jumped ship to a rival company as a director. Whoever wants to stay in this crappy company can stay! 1 “Ms. Jiang, I’m requesting a raise!” “Who allowed you to come in? Did you get my permission? Don’t think just because you’re an old timer you can do whatever you want! I can fire you anytime!” I softened my tone and repeated myself. This was the 99th time I had asked Jennifer for a raise. “The market is down, and the company isn’t doing well. You dare make demands at a time like this? You should be grateful I haven’t cut your pay. Why don’t you look outside? Where else can you find a boss like me?” “My salary has been $3,000 forever…” I felt ashamed even saying it out loud. “Aren’t you satisfied? So many people are fighting to get into this company, and I haven’t let them in. I kept you off the layoff list every time because you’re a veteran employee. Who do you think you are? Do you think the company can’t function without you?” Jennifer was aggressive, poking my forehead with her finger. I was dizzy from the pain but suppressed my emotions. “Ms. Jiang, I’ve always been grateful to the company and you, but I have to live too. I’m having a hard time right now.” “Chen, sometimes you have to look for the reason within yourself. It’s been so many years, why hasn’t your salary gone up? Is it because you haven’t worked hard enough?” Jennifer’s quote of a “famous saying” made me sneer. I’ve been with this company for eight years, witnessing its growth from zero to one. Even if I’m not a founding member, I’m at least a veteran. How many times have I worked overnight on proposals, even to the point of gastric bleeding? Because of this, I have a certain attachment to the company, and many clients only trust me. And for Jennifer, I also had special feelings. Now her “not working hard enough” chilled my heart. As I was leaving, a sentence floated from behind: “Starting next month, I’ll add $50 to your salary!” $50? Is she dismissing a beggar? Passing the break room, whispers came from inside: “I say Charlie Chen is a coward! Being scolded like that by Ms. Jiang and he doesn’t dare make a peep.” “He just can’t leave the company. I say he’s a dog, Ms. Jiang’s lapdog. comes when called, leaves when waved away!” “How could Ms. Jiang possibly be interested in him? He should take a look in the mirror. A toad wanting to eat swan meat, hahaha…” Indeed, in Jennifer’s eyes, old employees are dogs! I clenched my fists and walked quietly back to my desk. In the early morning, I received a call from Jennifer in my sleep. “I want to see the Starjoy proposal tomorrow!” “Ms. Jiang, the deadline for that proposal is next Monday, and now it’s…” “If you can’t do it, get lost! My company doesn’t keep idle people!” “Ms. Jiang, I can’t help it.” “Chen, do you know how hard it was for me to start this company alone? How much effort I put into it? You should be considerate of me!” Jennifer spoke with a hint of drunkenness. I softened and compromised again. “Ms. Jiang, don’t drink. It’s bad for your health.” Jennifer turned hostile faster than flipping a page. “Charlie Chen, who do you think you are? Bossing me around now! Are you worthy of saying that? Let me tell you, I kept you in the company because I thought highly of you. Believe it or not, I can hire ten or eight people like you tomorrow!” Whether I believed it or not, the next day I saw the company publicly recruiting interns online, with a salary of $30,000, ten times mine! I rushed into Jennifer’s office again. “Ms. Jiang, I need an explanation for the company’s recruitment post.” Jennifer crossed her arms, sneered, her eyes full of disdain. 2 “Since when does the company need to explain its decisions to an ordinary employee? Do you really think the company is yours? What kind of thing are you? Look at yourself!” “Why is the intern position salary $30,000, while I’ve worked for eight years and it’s always been $3,000?” My voice trembled uncontrollably. “What do you know? Salary isn’t matched by length of work. For a company to develop, it must bring in new blood, and conforming to market rules requires higher labor costs. Every company is the same.” Jennifer’s tone softened a bit. “So the costs are deducted from us old employees?” Jennifer slammed the table and stood up, overbearing: “Charlie Chen, don’t be ungrateful! I said, plenty of people are waiting to get in. Do it if you can, get out if you can’t!” “Ms. Jiang, I want a raise. I can’t live like this anymore.” unwilling to give up, I still held illusions about Jennifer. “Didn’t I say I’d add $50 starting next month? Be grateful and don’t push your luck! Only staring at money all day, can you do your job well? Look at what you’ve done? It’s garbage! Take it back and redo it!” Jennifer threw the file forward. I couldn’t dodge in time, and it hit me squarely in the face. I felt a burning pain. I knew she was deliberately finding fault. The proposal for cooperation with Starjoy Group had long been finalized; I just added a few details last night. I pushed open the door, and everyone’s eyes were on me. Jennifer’s assistant, Linda, walked over with a look of superiority: “Ms. Jiang just notified me to rearrange your workstation.” “Where is my new workstation?” Linda smiled insincerely, pointing towards the restroom door. That wasn’t a workstation; it was clearly a temporary table and chair added. “This is the new intern, Julian Zhang. Ms. Jiang wants you to train him first and hand over your work to him later!” Linda’s matter-of-fact face disgusted me. So, I was replaced! “I don’t agree!” I gritted my teeth. “If you don’t obey management, I’ll have Ms. Jiang fire you immediately. Anyway, no one wants you out there. Let’s see what you’ll do then!” Linda was abusing her power. She hadn’t been in the company long, but she always looked down on all old employees, thinking they were wasting company resources. “Hey you, organize all client information for me.” Julian sat at my desk immediately, bossing me around. “Hey! You’re Mr. Xu, right? From now on, I’ll be your contact for your company. Charlie Chen is out of it!” This idiot was eager to prove himself, shouting at clients, not even distinguishing if they were male or female. Just wait to be scolded, moron! I laughed secretly. Sure enough, Jennifer, who received a dozen complaint calls in a row, stormed over angrily. “Do you have a brain? Making such mistakes? I think you’re an idiot! Won’t stop until you ruin the company!” I was stunned for a moment. 3 Jennifer was pointing at me? The person she scolded was me! Everyone looked like they were watching a good show, and Julian smiled smugly. “Ms. Jiang, Julian made the calls.” “Couldn’t you stop him? What does he know as an intern? Didn’t I tell you to train him well? You ungrateful wretch! The company raised you for so many years, is this how you repay the company?” I was too angry to speak, almost crushing my molars. “Ms. Jiang, Charlie told me to do it.” Julian glanced at me maliciously. “Charlie Chen made a major work error, deduct 50% of this month’s salary! Julian performed excellently, converted to full-time immediately and promoted to Marketing Director.” This is simply turning black into white! “Thank you, Ms. Jiang. I will serve the company well in the future.” “See that? If some old salted fish in the company don’t correct their attitude, not working hard all day but only thinking about raises, I’ll let them go immediately!” Jennifer glared at me fiercely, pointing fingers. Days later, Mr. Wang, the head of Starjoy Group, came to discuss cooperation matters and specified to Jennifer that he wanted to deal with me. “Ms. Jiang, what kind of bird is that Charlie Chen! He has no ability at all. Let me receive Mr. Wang.” Julian volunteered and walked into the reception room arrogantly, only to return dejectedly. “Ms. Jiang wants you to receive Mr. Wang!” “Director, that’s your job. I’m just a errand boy now.” I didn’t even look at Julian. “Do you need Ms. Jiang to invite you personally before you go? Who do you think you are? Not going is dereliction of duty. Do you still want to stay in the company?” I ignored him. “Chen, Mr. Wang is waiting for you, hurry over!” Jennifer appeared behind me. “Ms. Jiang, such an important matter should of course be handled by the Director. I’m afraid I can’t do it well.” “I told you to go, so go! Do you really not want to work anymore? Taking yourself too seriously!” Seeing I didn’t speak, Jennifer got a bit anxious: “If the cooperation with Starjoy falls through, the company will be greatly affected, maybe even go bankrupt.” “That’s your business.” “Chen, can you be considerate of me? It’s not easy for a woman like me. So many people rely on the company for food. I can’t watch it collapse. Since you are an old employee, of course you don’t want this to happen, right?” Looking at Jennifer, my heart softened again. The negotiation with Mr. Wang went smoothly. Mr. Wang was very satisfied with my proposal, agreed to the quote on the spot, and agreed to sign the contract three days later. As soon as Mr. Wang was sent off, Jennifer changed her face immediately. “Is there something wrong with your brain? Just now Mr. Wang said sign in three days, why didn’t you say today?” “Ms. Jiang, I am an ordinary employee with a salary of only 3,000. I have no right to make any decisions.” Julian looked fawning, whispering in Jennifer’s ear: “Ms. Jiang, now only the contract signing is left. I can go then. He’s useless now.” “I think you did it on purpose! I know what’s in your heart. You just don’t want the company to do well, you heartless ingrate!” Jennifer glared at me coldly. Burning the bridge after crossing it, discarding after use! 4 “If I didn’t want the company to do well, I wouldn’t have gone to talk to Mr. Wang just now.” “Really amazing! You think the company can’t function without you, right? Hmph! Don’t flatter yourself! Outside the company, you are nothing!” “I never thought that!” “Don’t think I don’t know what’s on your mind, Charlie Chen. Let me tell you, I will never be interested in you in this life! With your poor look, you’re not even fit to carry my shoes!” Jennifer’s eyes showed obvious disgust. “Do you mean it?” My eyes reddened, asking unwillingly. “In my eyes, you are worse than a dog! I only feel disgusted! The man I want must be rich and powerful. Look at yourself! Even if all the men in the world died, I wouldn’t look at you!” At this moment, my heart for Jennifer died completely, and the affection in my heart disappeared. My face was ashen: “Okay, then I resign.” “As if I’m afraid of you resigning! Let me tell you, if you dare step out of this company door, don’t ever come back!” Jennifer’s face was livid, pointing to the door. “Okay!” I pulled out a sneer. At the peak of anger, I became calm instead. “I warn you, don’t come back kneeling and begging me then. I will never give you any chance!” Jennifer was certain I wouldn’t leave. “Ms. Jiang, he’s threatening you with resignation! He’s been shameless in the company for so many years, how could he leave?” I stared dead at Julian’s villainous successful look. “Who would want such a person outside? Maybe he can’t find a job then and can only sweep streets or guard gates. Isn’t that a watchdog! Hahaha…” Julian laughed more and more rampantly. That night, I called Mr. Fang, the boss of Sunhigh Group. “Mr. Fang, I agree to be the planning director at your company.” “Chen, great. Young people should venture out more, and I value your character and ability. Come over, salary starts at 50,000.” I could hear the unconcealable excitement in Mr. Fang’s tone. “Thank you, Mr. Fang!” At this moment, I felt incredibly relaxed. Early the next morning, my phone kept ringing. It turned out to be a group privately formed by former colleagues, without Jennifer. “Heard Charlie Chen failed to woo Ms. Jiang and got scolded badly. Deserved it! With his loser look!” “Exactly! Dared to go against Julian. He’s Ms. Jiang’s relative. Charlie Chen is a big idiot! Staying in the company for so many years, being nothing!” “Threatening Ms. Jiang with resignation, reckless! But if he really can’t find a job outside, I can point him a way, be a gigolo, sleep with old rich women, hahaha…” I sneered. I used a alt account when joining the group; they thought I wasn’t in it. Suddenly Sarah Shen sent a message: “Charlie Chen is a good person and capable. Don’t say that about him! It’s Ms. Jiang who has eye problems and doesn’t know how to appreciate!” Soon she was attacked by the group. I wasn’t familiar with Sarah Shen. She had always been quiet in the company. Two days later, the company exploded. When signing the contract with Starjoy Group, Julian suddenly demanded a price increase, angering Mr. Wang to flip the table and leave on the spot. Indeed something this idiot Julian would do. He committed a taboo in the industry. I want to see how Jennifer cleans up this mess for him. “Ms. Jiang, Ms. Jiang, good news. Mr. Wang finally agreed to talk to us again, but there is a condition.” “What condition?” Jennifer’s eyes lit up instantly. She was now overwhelmed, having been shut out several times trying to see Mr. Wang.

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1 At the company’s annual gala, my wife, the CEO, suddenly called. She asked me what I was doing. “Washing your underwear, of course,” I answered, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “What’s up? I have to put these in the dryer when I’m done, and then I need to give the baby his bath.” A wave of laughter and applause erupted from her end of the line. The call ended abruptly. She didn’t come home until late, reeking of a nauseating mix of alcohol and perfume. I got up to make her some soup to sober her up. She grabbed my hand, her eyes bloodshot. “Robert, where’s your spine? Your pride?” I just smiled faintly. The proud Robert was dead. In this new life, all I wanted was for the people I loved to live. … Lisa turned me to face her, hysterical. “Say something!” she shrieked. “Tell me, where did you put my Robert? Give him back to me!” I smiled. “People change, don’t they?” Besides, she was the one who changed first. The anger and frustration in her eyes slowly faded into a weary sadness. “Can we just stop torturing each other?” My own eyes were calm. “What’s so bad about the way things are now?” Her shoulders slumped, and she took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. You should go back to bed.” Back in my room, I heard the sound of shattering glass. A little while later, she came in and sat on the edge of the bed. After a long silence, she spoke. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.” “I’ve really broken it off with Kevin. And there won’t be any other men.” “What will it take for you to forgive me?” I didn’t want to fight with her. I stayed silent, gently patting our restless baby. Sleep, my love. Daddy will never leave you again. In my past life, when Lisa was two months pregnant, I discovered she was cheating on me. To be more precise, from the moment she started pursuing me, through our courtship, our marriage, and her pregnancy—a total of seven years—she had been sleeping with her childhood friend, Kevin. I wanted a divorce. She refused, no matter what I said. She told me over and over that she loved me, that the baby was mine. She kept me locked in the house in the name of love. When I tried to kill myself, she tied me to the bed. When I went on a hunger strike, she threatened me with my father’s safety. This went on until she gave birth. The moment our baby’s soft little hand closed around my finger, I felt like I had come back to life. He was my son. I watched him constantly, smiling when he smiled. Lisa was happy too. She had successfully used our son to keep me. But three months later, I had a complete mental breakdown and nearly threw our son from the third-floor balcony. Lisa snatched him from me and slapped me, her hands trembling with fear. “You’re insane!” She had me committed to a psychiatric hospital for a year. When she came to pick me up, she asked if I missed our son. Hearing his little voice call out “Daddy,” my heart clenched. I nodded. When we got home, Kevin was there, holding our son. “Lisa! I was just passing by and wanted to see the baby. I think he’s having an allergic reaction to something he ate.” Our son was struggling to breathe, his face already turning purple. At the hospital, the doctor said we were too late. I was plunged back into a deeper hell. “Murderer!” I lunged at Kevin, but Lisa threw herself in front of him. “Robert, calm down. I’m heartbroken too, but this was an accident. Kevin would never hurt our son on purpose.” She trusted him. “It wasn’t on purpose,” so he was absolved of all blame. My suspicions were just the ravings of a madman. After all, I had almost become my son’s killer once. I had no right to condemn anyone else. I found the lecture hall where Kevin taught and scrawled on the blackboard in red paint—KEVIN, A LIFE FOR A LIFE! I emptied the entire can of paint on him. Lisa dragged me to the hospital, her face grim. “Your father is having brain surgery in three days. Do you want him to die too?” 2 My father had a malignant brain tumor. They hadn’t dared to tell me. I stopped causing trouble. But my father died on the operating table. “Robert…” Lisa shook me awake, frowning as she wiped the cold sweat from my forehead. It took me a moment to come to. I stared at the date on my phone, slowly pulling myself out of the nightmare. I had been back for a year. On this day, Lisa had excitedly told me that our son had kicked for the first time. I placed my hand on her stomach. “Hey, baby, it’s Daddy. Give a little kick. Tell Mommy we both love her very much.” “Robert, can you forgive me? Just this once?” “Let it go,” I said. Love, forgiveness… it was all meaningless. All I wanted was for my son and my father to be safe and healthy. The next day, Lisa went with me to visit my dad. We took him for a full check-up. The tumor was still small, the surgical risk much lower. The operation was a success, and his recovery was smooth. A huge weight was lifted from my heart. It was a greater relief, a more profound joy, than my own second chance at life. I started cooking for Lisa every day, going on walks with her, getting some sun. We went shopping for baby clothes and decorated the nursery. I could even laugh and joke with her. I didn’t refuse her hugs or goodnight kisses. Lisa was happy, but there was always a faint shadow of worry in her eyes. Until our wedding anniversary. She wanted to be intimate. I pushed her away. “If you have needs, you can go to Kevin, or someone else,” I said calmly. “I don’t mind. Just be careful not to hurt the baby.” She looked as if she’d been doused with cold water, her eyes wide with disbelief. “What did you say?” “Robert, you still hate me, don’t you? You haven’t really forgiven me.” I shook my head and sat up, straightening my clothes. “I’ve just figured things out. You were right. Sex and love can be separate. I believe that you love me. I was just being too sensitive before.” I had accepted her explanation, but now she was the one who was angry. “Do you really think that?” I looked her in the eye and nodded. She slammed the door and didn’t come back all night. The next morning, she returned with a bouquet of flowers and an apology. “I’m sorry, honey. I was too emotional last night. It’s okay. We can take it slow. As long as you’re willing to give me a chance, I’d be happy with a platonic relationship for the rest of our lives.” She showed me her chat history. “I went to see Jane. She has security cameras. I can ask her to send you the footage if you want.” I smiled and nodded. “I believe you. You don’t have to explain.” The look in her eyes was more disappointed than if I had accused her. “Okay. Let’s have breakfast together.” “I didn’t sleep well last night. Will you take a nap with me later?” And so the days passed. Until one night, she found me in the walk-in closet, ironing a shirt. She flew into a rage, cutting the shirt to pieces. “What do you want from me?” she demanded, her eyes red. That’s when I realized the shirt wasn’t my size. Kevin must have left it here, and the housekeeper had probably put it with my things. “I’m begging you, Robert. Stop punishing me like this. This act you’re putting on—the perfect, long-suffering husband—does it make you happy?” I tried to explain that I just couldn’t sleep and was looking for something to do. “Fine. Fine…” She was so angry she was speechless. She tore off her own pajamas and threw them at me. “Then keep ironing! Since you have so much free time, you can do all the housework from now on. And all the laundry has to be done by hand.” I did as she said. And yes, there was a small part of me that took pleasure in seeing her lose control. In our worst fights, she would say that a social climber like me should be grateful for marrying her and changing my station in life. That a person can’t have everything. But when it came to herself, she conveniently forgot her own logic. She wanted my forgiveness, my understanding, and my unconditional love, as if nothing had ever happened. 3 Today, our son had to get his vaccinations. He cried pitifully. I comforted him, yawning twice. Lisa, full of guilt, took the baby from me. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into me yesterday…” I quickly took the blame. “I didn’t realize you were in the middle of a game. I’m sorry I embarrassed you.” She was about to say something when her phone rang. After a moment’s hesitation, she answered it in front of me, a show of transparency. It was Kevin. He’d been in a car accident. In my past life, she had been on a business trip for a week around this time. I took our son from her. “You should go. You’re the only family he has in this country. I was just thinking of going to see my dad anyway.” Her expression was a mixture of relief and disappointment. She hesitated, then turned and left. The driver hurried in. “Sir, shall we go?” Just then, my phone rang. My heart started to race. “Hello, this is the emergency room at Capital University Hospital. Are you a relative of Mr. Robert Thorne Sr.?” “Yes,” I answered, my voice trembling. My stomach twisted into a knot. When I got to the hospital, I saw Lisa. Kevin was sitting on a bench nearby. “Robert, don’t panic…” It turned out Kevin was the one who had caused the accident. The person he had hit was my father. The world around me seemed to blur. All I could hear was a ringing in my ears. “Robert, look at me…” My dazed state frightened Lisa. She grabbed my arms. “Don’t worry. Dad will be fine. The roads are slippery because of the snow. Kevin didn’t mean to do it. He’s very shaken up.” My eyes burned, and a metallic taste rose in my throat. “Didn’t mean to…” I let out a cold, sharp laugh. There it was again. Kevin walked over, his face full of apology. “Robert, I’m so sorry. I didn’t even recognize your dad. I was making a right turn, and he suddenly ran out to pick up his mask. I couldn’t brake in time.” Looking at him, I saw my son’s pained face, and I couldn’t breathe. The hatred boiling inside me was uncontrollable. I slapped him across the face. Lisa gave me a reproachful look, her eyes full of concern for Kevin. “I’ll have the driver take you home. I’ll deal with the police. Don’t blame him. He’s just as upset.” Kevin smiled magnanimously. “I know. I’m not mad. You don’t have to worry about me. Just stay with him.” I stumbled back, leaning against the wall for support, taking deep breaths. I couldn’t fall apart. My dad was still in surgery. “Family of Robert Thorne Sr…” Hearing the nurse call his name, my heart leaped into my throat. “I’m very sorry. The patient died from a cerebral hemorrhage. Time of death…” My vision went black, and I couldn’t stand. I doubled over, retching. I heard my phone ringing, but I couldn’t get my hand into my pocket. Lisa answered it for me. Her face went white. The nanny had been in a car accident on the way home with our son. I scrambled to my feet and ran, but my legs gave out from under me. The world went dark, and I passed out. As I drifted in and out of consciousness, I had only one thought. If my dad hadn’t had the surgery, would he have survived the accident, just like in my past life? I was a murderer too. If anything happened to my son, my guilt would be unforgivable. 4 My son lay in the ICU, his tiny body hooked up to a tangle of tubes. Cold tears streamed down my face. I clenched my jaw, making a silent vow. If my son died, this time I would take them all down with me. Lisa held my hand, offering hollow comfort. “Honey, the baby will be fine.” I squeezed her hand, staring at her. “Lisa, I want Kevin in jail!” She guiltily averted her gaze. “Let’s go back to your room first. You need to finish your IV. We can talk about this later.” My heart went cold. I closed my eyes. They had known each other since birth. They were closer than family. They told each other everything. They were intimate friends in every sense of the word. What was our flimsy love compared to that? What was I, her convenient husband? And what was my father, a man with no blood ties to him? The sedative kicked in, and I fell asleep. When I woke up, Kevin was sitting on the sofa, casually peeling an orange. “Robert…” he said, standing up and walking over to my bed. “I’m really sorry. I never thought it would come to this.” His apology was as perfunctory as if he’d made a mistake on a work document and had to appease his boss. The moment he heard the doorknob turn, he dropped to his knees. “A life for a life. I will atone for my sin.” Lisa rushed in and helped him up. “He had surgery on his knee,” she said to me, her tone accusatory. “Lisa, I’m a man. I take responsibility for my actions. I made a mistake, and I should be punished. Don’t break Robert’s heart anymore.” A sarcastic smile touched my lips. Lisa squeezed his arm, a silent gesture of reassurance. “You’ve already apologized. It’s okay. You can go home now.” We were alone. “I just went to see the baby.” “Robert, Dad is gone. But Kevin…” “Lisa, I’m pressing charges.” Her eyes instantly turned cold. “Robert, you can’t.” It was a statement of fact, and a thinly veiled threat. My heart felt like it was being torn apart. I let out a bitter laugh. “A divorce, then? Can I get a divorce?” She frowned. The word had become a taboo in our endless arguments. “Those are two different things.” I laughed harder, but tears streamed down my face. I felt suffocated, terrified, helpless. “Lisa, let’s get a divorce. I get our son, and you give me twenty million. Unless you lock me up for the rest of my life and cut off my arms and legs, I will kill you both.” Her eyes widened in shock, but she only sighed, her tone placating. “You’re too emotional right now. When you and the baby are both out of the hospital and you’ve calmed down, we can discuss whatever you want.” I took a deep breath. “Come closer. Close your eyes.” She was confused, but she did as I said. I pulled the IV needle from the back of my hand and, with all the strength I could muster, plunged it into her eye. She staggered back, clutching her eye, her face contorted in agony, her lips white. Her other eye was wide with disbelief, anger, and hurt. “You really hate me that much?” I looked at her calmly. “Do you really love me that much? You’re the one who imprisoned me with your so-called love, who made me lose my family, who pushed me to this point.” The next second, I broke down, shaking, convulsing, vomiting. A flicker of pity and pain seemed to cross her face. She agreed. Dealing with my father’s funeral, the divorce, moving, my medication, waiting for our son to be discharged… The next two months were an agony of suspense, terrified she would go back on her word. Finally, the day came when I could take my son home. I made sure to dress neatly. But when I got to the hospital, the nurse looked at me in surprise. “Mrs. Astley already picked up the baby.” My blood ran cold. It felt like my throat was closing up. I turned and ran, only to collide with a woman. “Robert, don’t be afraid. I’ll help you.”

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A stranger, a pregnant woman with hypoglycemia, wanted the candy in my hand. In a moment of softness, I gave her all the mango explosion gummies I had. After eating them, she suffered a severe allergic reaction all over her body. She went into shock and miscarried. Her husband blamed it all on me and hacked me to death in a frenzy. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day the pregnant woman asked me for candy. 01 “Miss, could you spare a couple of pieces of candy?” Mark hurried over to me, looking anxious. Afraid I would refuse, he grabbed my arm tightly, his face full of pleading. “My wife has low blood sugar, and I can’t find anything to boost her energy right now.” Unlike in my previous life, I didn’t lose my ability to think upon hearing his request and dump all my candy on him. I composed myself and gently pushed his hand away. “Since your wife is pregnant, I can’t just give her anything.” In my past life, a moment of soft-heartedness cost me my life. This time, I wouldn’t be so foolish. Hearing my words, he frowned in displeasure. “How can you be so cold-blooded? As a pregnant woman yourself, you should know how terrible hypoglycemia feels for a pregnant woman.” I started to regret coming to the park alone for a walk with my big belly. In my previous life, he was capable of hacking me to death; I should have known he was a brainless and violent man. I tried to soften my tone, not daring to provoke him. “Sir, as a fellow pregnant woman, of course I understand her. But these candies are made with real fruit juice. If your wife eats them and has an allergic reaction, I can’t bear that responsibility.” He paused for a few seconds, seemingly finding my logic sound, and turned to leave. Moments later, the woman’s irritable and unreasonable voice rang out from over there. “I want to eat her candy! Who makes candy with real fruit juice these days?” “I think she just doesn’t want to give it. If I don’t get that candy today, I don’t want to live!” I almost vomited blood from anger. Was she trying to blackmail me? Before the man could run back and speak, I hurriedly stood up, wanting to flee the scene. They really were a match made in heaven. The man blocked my path, his skin thicker than a city wall. “Miss, just give me two pieces.” “Pregnant women have strange cravings. Never mind the hypoglycemia; even without it, if she wants something, she has to have it.” “If she doesn’t eat it, she’ll cry all night. Please.” I had no intention of arguing with him. Although the internet often says pregnant women must eat whatever they crave. I thought that was mostly just talk. I didn’t expect the internet to bleed into reality, meeting a real-life version of a CEO’s pampered little wife. I tried to bypass him to escape. He got anxious, grabbing my arm and begging incessantly. “I beg you, even just one piece is fine.” “Please help me, I don’t want to disappoint my wife.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the woman, who was just barking orders with full strength, now leaning against the park bench pretending to be weak. My head throbbed. “I said, I won’t give it.” “With the time you spent arguing with me, you could have gone to the supermarket and bought some for her.” His face darkened, and he flung my hand away angrily. “Asking for just one piece of candy, look at how stingy you are.” “Bad luck.” I had explained the risks to him, yet he remained obstinate. Didn’t he know his wife had allergies?! “I’ll say it one last time, I won’t give it.” “I’m pregnant too. In broad daylight, try touching me again?!” He huffed coldly, glared at me, and turned to comfort his little wife. Afraid of collateral damage, I found a bench far away from them to sit and wait for my husband to pick me up. The look Mark gave me at the end scared me a little. I was afraid of accidents. I could only sit in a crowded place, daring not to be alone. The uncles and aunties exercising nearby were making snide remarks while working out. Completely disregarding whether I could hear them. “Oh my, lived this long and never seen someone so stingy.” “Exactly. If you don’t want to give, just say so. Making up excuses about allergies, hilarious.” I found it hilarious too. Truly, it’s easy to judge when it’s not your problem. In my previous life, after Chloe ate the candy, she started breaking out in rashes. Mark grabbed my arm relentlessly. Forcing me to give my phone number and home address. I looked pleadingly at the surrounding uncles and aunties. But they stood far away, scolding me for deserving it. Scolding me for being careless enough to give strangers food. Truly gossipy and hypocritical. I rolled my eyes and said loudly and sarcastically. “Oh my, I am stingy.” “If you aren’t stingy, why don’t you buy some candy and send it over to her?” 02 Mark had no choice but to run off alone to buy candy. Chloe had severe allergies. I wanted to see if they would stab themselves if they ate the candy and caused the reaction themselves. Bursting with curiosity, I sat at a distance that was neither too far nor too close to eavesdrop. Chloe took a call, thinking no one was around, and didn’t lower her voice. “He’s not falling for it.” “How should I know what’s going on!” “If I don’t abort this child soon, I’ll be exposed.” “Don’t look at how well he treats me; when he gets angry, he turns into a different person.” Whoa! Shocking secret. Turns out, the child isn’t Mark’s. So in my previous life, I was just a scapegoat? No wonder she insisted on eating my candy even knowing she was allergic. Thinking of this, my chest tightened. Scumbag man and woman. Having an affair and getting pregnant unexpectedly, implicating an innocent person like me. How is this different from a scam?! Before long, Mark returned. Sweating profusely, he humbly begged for Chloe’s forgiveness. “Sorry, wifey, I couldn’t find that brand. Just make do with this for now, and I’ll look in other supermarkets later.” Chloe slapped the candy out of Mark’s hand. “What can you do right? I’m not eating!” With that, she stomped angrily towards the park exit. Mark smiled apologetically, not angry at all, but protecting her spinelessly. I looked at the glowing green hat atop his head (a metaphor for being cuckolded) and chose to keep my mouth shut. These two were too weird; I didn’t want to invite trouble. My husband drove to pick me up. Just as I sat in the car ready to share this bizarre gossip, I didn’t expect him to stop the car at the park exit and roll down the window. He called out to Chloe and Mark standing by the road. “Are you heading back to Bliss Gardens too?” Chloe nodded excitedly. “Hop in, we’re heading home too. We can give you a ride.” I felt a heart attack coming on and glared at my husband in depression. My husband is great in every way, except he’s a boundary-less pushover. Chloe didn’t hesitate, excitedly pulling Mark into the car. “Thanks, bro.” Mark patted my husband’s shoulder with an honest face. “But how did you know we live in Bliss Gardens?” My husband smiled gently: “I’ve seen you in the complex many times. Quite fateful.” I’m a bit face-blind; I had no idea we lived in the same complex. Although I avoided the risk this time. I still felt uncomfortable. Subconsciously wanting to stay away from them, lest I get splattered with blood when things go south. Chloe blushed shyly and thanked my husband. Then she opened her mouth to mock me sarcastically: “Didn’t expect a generous man like brother Luke to marry such a stingy wife.” “Just now I had low blood sugar and asked her for a candy, but she wouldn’t give it.” After speaking, she gave me a reproachful look. My husband was surprised upon hearing this, then touched my head dotingly and explained: “I know the candy you’re talking about; it’s my wife’s favorite.” “Usually she won’t even give me any.” Chloe was a bit unhappy; she leaned heavily back into the seat. “Is that so.” “Quite a strange temper.” I rolled my eyes internally. Trying to calm my mood. The green-hatted man kept smiling at his little wife, completely unaware of how rude his wife’s words were. Finally, when getting off the car, Chloe took out her phone with a shy face. “Brother Luke, let’s exchange contacts.” “You’re such a good person; let’s hang out more in the future.” My heart tightened. I pressed down on my husband’s hand holding the phone: “Sorry, it’s inconvenient.” Chloe scoffed and ignored me. Still using a baby voice, she said to my husband: “Brother Luke, we’re neighbors. Your wife is a bit too stingy.” “Watching you so closely, does she not trust you?” My husband smiled and pulled my hand away: “How could that be? My wife is usually very understanding.” Mark sat next to them like a corpse, watching his wife flirt with another man right in front of him. No wonder he got cheated on. Simply ridiculous!! 03 Back home, I had a big fight with Luke. “What do you mean? She was being sarcastic right to my face, and you just listened without standing up for me.” Luke hugged me with a grin. “Good wifey, she asked, so I couldn’t just reject her and make her lose face, right?” “Besides, it’s just adding a contact. Her husband didn’t say anything; you’re just too sensitive.” What did I hear? I’m sensitive? I always thought he was just a pushover. I didn’t expect him to be such a clueless fool. I pushed him away angrily. “Get lost, you clueless idiot.” I hid in the room, crying sadly. Because my husband was a pushover, I argued with him countless times. But besides this, he had always been good to me. I kept comforting myself internally. Chloe is a pregnant woman; no matter how flirtatious she is, Luke shouldn’t fall for it, right? Days of worry made my stomach uncomfortable. I canceled the check-up scheduled for two days later and moved it to today. When I arrived, there was someone inside. I stood at the clinic door waiting boredly. The doctor’s voice came from inside. “I told you last time, her body can’t handle a medical abortion; she needs surgery.” “You always say there are difficulties, but no difficulty is more important than health.” “You’ve come for consultation so many times, and I’ve said it many times. If you decide, I’ll schedule the surgery. It’ll be impossible when the pregnancy progresses further.” My gossip soul ignited, and I stretched my neck to hear clearly. A man’s voice came from inside. “We understand. It’s mainly because we don’t have the conditions right now. We’ll think about it.” Why does this voice sound so familiar? Not sure, let me listen again. But the man didn’t speak again. The sound of a chair dragging came from inside. My heart tightened, and I ghost-like hid around the corner. A moment later, the people inside came out. I saw my husband and Chloe walking out of the clinic arm in arm, smiling. 04 My heart trembled. The huge shock made me unable to stand steady. I took a few deep breaths, leaning tightly against the wall to avoid falling. My nose stung. Turns out they had hooked up long ago. Was their behavior in the car that day all an act for me? And the candy-begging in the park. Turns out they started plotting early on, wanting to frame me. But why would they do this? I was confused. I tried to move to the nearby chair several times, but my legs were too weak to move. Finally, a passing kind nurse helped me to the chair. I wiped the tears that had long burst the dam. Vowing to find out the truth.

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My husband, Dr. Adrian Pierce, insisted on bringing his childhood sweetheart—a mere intern—into the OR as an assistant surgeon during a critical heart transplant. All I did was reprimand her for wearing rhinestone-encrusted acrylic nails in a sterile environment. Adrian abandoned the patient, chest cavity wide open, and stormed out of the operating room to comfort her. I begged him to come back and finish the surgery. He snapped at me: “Bella is upset right now. Can you not start drama with me at a time like this? Pause the surgery. Nothing is more important than Bella’s feelings.” The patient was left exposed on the table for forty minutes and died in agony. Later, we found out the patient was the beloved Mayor of our city. Adrian and his “little sister” Bella pinned the medical malpractice on me: “If you hadn’t gone crazy in the OR and chased us out, the Mayor wouldn’t have bled to death! This is all your fault!” I couldn’t prove my innocence. I was sentenced to life in prison, where I suffered until I died. Meanwhile, my husband and Bella walked down the aisle. When I opened my eyes again, I was back. Back to the day the Mayor was lying on our operating table. 1 “Maya, Adrian is the attending surgeon. He said I could keep my nails. What right do you, a lowly resident, have to lecture me?” Hearing the familiar, arrogant voice, I snapped my eyes open. Standing before me was Bella, looking down her nose at me with a smirk. I scanned the room. We were mid-heart transplant. Everyone was scrubbed in, covered head to toe in sterile gear. Everyone except Bella. Not only were her long acrylics studded with rhinestones, but she wasn’t even wearing a mask. That’s when I knew. I had been reborn. I was back to the day the Mayor died in our hospital. In my past life, Adrian insisted on having Bella assist. She was clumsy, handed him the wrong scalpels, broke sterile field protocol repeatedly, and almost dropped a rhinestone into the patient’s open chest. I scolded her about the nails. She took it as a personal attack and stormed off. Adrian abandoned the patient to chase after her. “Bella is upset right now. Can you not start drama with me at a time like this? Pause the surgery. Nothing is more important than Bella’s feelings.” The patient died. They blamed me. “If you hadn’t gone crazy in the OR and chased us out, the Mayor wouldn’t have bled to death! This is all your fault!” I died in prison. They got married and became the youngest Chief of Surgery and Vice Chief in the hospital’s history. I snapped back to reality just as Adrian frowned and scolded me. “Maya, this is an operating table, not a place for your jealousy. I approved her nails. Apologize to Bella.” Looking at Bella’s triumphant face, I swallowed my rage. “Why should I? Hospital policy forbids artificial nails in the OR. I did nothing wrong.” Seeing I wouldn’t budge, Bella’s face darkened. “Maya, admit it, you’re just targeting me. Fine, I’ll leave.” She tossed a scalpel onto the tray carelessly. It bounced and nearly sliced the patient’s aorta. Panic and anger surged through me. I grabbed the scalpel just as Adrian moved to chase Bella. I lowered my voice, urgent and cold. “Adrian, the patient’s chest is open. We need to proceed with the transplant immediately or he will die.” “You are a doctor. Are you going to watch him die?” Adrian looked at the door where Bella vanished, then at the patient. He gritted his teeth and picked up the scalpel. Just as I let out a breath of relief, Adrian’s phone rang. It was Bella. 2 Adrian put it on speaker. Bella’s angry voice filled the sterile room. “If you don’t come comfort me right now, I’m never talking to you again.” Adrian’s voice turned gentle. “Bella, honey, let me finish this surgery and I’ll come straight to you.” Bella huffed. “If you aren’t here in five minutes, I’m going to the clinic to get rid of this baby. You won’t be a father anymore.” Pregnant. The bitterness filled my mouth. In my past life, I thought they only got together after I went to prison. Turns out, they were already expecting. Before I could process the shock, Adrian dropped his instruments and bolted for the door. I grabbed his arm. “Adrian, you can’t leave. The patient can’t wait.” He glared at me with pure fury. “Didn’t you hear her? She’s going to abort my child! If I don’t go now, it’ll be too late!” I frowned. “What about the patient?” “I’ll be back as soon as I can. A few minutes won’t kill him.” I stared at him in disbelief. A heart transplant is a race against time. Every minute counts. Last time, the patient died because of this exact delay. I tightened my grip. I wouldn’t let him go. “Maya, let go! Are you trying to kill my child?” I started to deny it, but he shoved me hard. I stumbled and crashed back-first onto the metal instrument table. A groan escaped my lips. Adrian didn’t even look back. He sprinted out the door. The rest of the surgical team rushed to help me up. “Dr. Lin, are you okay? Dr. Pierce is out of line. Defending her is one thing, but getting physical?” “I knew something was going on between them. I didn’t think they’d be so blatant about a pregnancy.” I waved them off. “Not the time. I need to get him back.” The patient’s life was more important than Adrian’s betrayal. I wouldn’t let the tragedy repeat itself. I ran into the hallway, but I was immediately surrounded by the patient’s family. “Doctor, how is he? Is the surgery a success?” I recognized them instantly. The Mayor’s family. His elderly mother knelt before me, sobbing. “Doctor, please, save my son. I’m begging you.” His wife, seven months pregnant, also tried to kneel. “Doctor, please. Everyone says this is the best hospital. Please save my husband.” I pulled them up, looking them in the eye. “I promise you, I will do everything I can.” Adrian was gone. I returned to the OR. The team looked behind me expectantly. “Dr. Lin, where’s Dr. Pierce?” I shook my head. “I couldn’t catch him.” The anesthesiologist panicked. “The patient is under general anesthesia, chest cracked open. If we don’t operate now, he’ll die of shock or infection.” “Only Dr. Pierce is qualified for this procedure in the whole city. It’s too late to call in someone else.” I took a deep breath. “I’ll do it. Adrian and I were classmates. I know everything he knows.” The team rejected the idea immediately. “Maya, you’re a resident. Hospital protocol forbids you from leading a transplant.” “Just call Dr. Pierce again. Get him back here.” I swallowed the truth—that he wouldn’t come back—and dialed his number on speaker for everyone to hear. 3 “Where are you? Come back, we’re waiting for you.” Adrian’s voice crackled with rage. “Bella is crying her eyes out. Can you stop making a scene right now?” “Pause the surgery. I’ll do it once I’ve calmed Bella down.” Click. The room went dead silent. The anesthesiologist cursed. “By the time he comes back, the patient will be a corpse.” “Call him again. If this patient dies, we all go down.” I dialed again. “The patient is critical. You need to return.” “Heart transplants are high risk,” Adrian snapped. “If he dies, it’s just his bad luck.” I was stunned by his callousness. “If the patient dies and the family sues, can you handle the fallout?” Adrian scoffed. “He’s a nobody. No money, no power. If they sue, we’ll just say they’re extortionists.” “Stop calling me. Bella wants strawberries. I’m buying strawberries.” He hung up. Fury ignited in the room. “He abandoned a patient with an open chest to buy strawberries? He’s unfit to be a doctor!” “BP is dropping fast!” the anesthesiologist shouted. “If we don’t act now, we lose him!” I stepped up to the table. “I’m doing it.” They hesitated. “Who else?” I challenged. “Are you going to watch him die?” “It’s against protocol,” the anesthesiologist said, sweating. “If you do this, you take full responsibility.” “I will take full responsibility,” I said calmly. “We have no time. Assist me.” They exchanged looks, then nodded. I picked up the scalpel. I removed the failing heart. I implanted the donor organ. I sutured the vessels. My eyes were glued to the flat line on the monitor. Seconds ticked by. Agonizingly slow. Then, a blip. A steady rhythm. “We have a heartbeat!” the nurse cried. “Success!” I didn’t speak. I focused on closing the chest. When the last stitch was in, my legs gave out. I slumped to the floor, my scrub top soaked in cold sweat. An hour later, the patient woke up. And that was when everyone finally learned: He was the Mayor. 4 In the recovery room, I checked the Mayor’s vitals. Everything looked perfect. I let out a breath I felt like I’d been holding for hours. The Mayor smiled weakly. “I heard you performed the surgery. Thank you.” “But I recall Dr. Pierce was supposed to be my surgeon. Where is he? Did something happen?” Before I could answer, Adrian called. The Mayor glanced at the phone. “Answer it here.” I put it on speaker. “Where are you? Come to Bella’s apartment right now.” “I’m doing post-op checks. The transplant was successful.” Silence for a few seconds. “You did it? I’m surprised that guy’s tough enough to survive being left open for forty minutes.” “Pity. I thought we could use the body for research.” I saw the Mayor’s face turn purple with rage. “Adrian, watch your mouth. We are doctors. Our duty is to save lives.” “Why save these peasants?” Adrian sneered. “No power, no influence. Just a waste of resources.” “Their only use is for us to practice on, to refine our skills.” I gasped. The Mayor’s expression was terrifying. Adrian continued, oblivious. “You upset Bella earlier. She’s stressed. I’m giving you thirty minutes to get here and apologize.” “Also, she wants your home cooking. Buy groceries on the way.” He was treating his wife—a surgeon—like a maid. “I need to monitor the patient. He’s still critical.” “Is his life more important than Bella skipping a meal?” Adrian yelled. “The surgery is done. If he dies now, it’s fate.” “Don’t make me ask twice. Get your ass over here!” He hung up. I felt a chill in my bones. I never knew Adrian was this monstrous. To him, a “commoner’s” life was worthless. The Mayor was trembling with anger. “He abandoned me for his mistress… and he calls himself a doctor? He is a disgrace to the profession!” He started coughing violently. I rushed to soothe him. “Mayor, please, you just had a transplant. You cannot get agitated.” He took a deep breath. “You’re right. He’s not worth my health.” “But if Dr. Pierce thinks he’s a god who can decide who lives or dies, I will show him what happens when he loses that power.” He looked at his chief of staff. “Pass the order. Revoke Adrian Pierce’s medical license immediately. Ban him from practicing medicine for life.”

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The killer who took my life was finally arrested seven years after I died. He’d clawed his way up from street-level thug to a crime boss, and he looked utterly unbothered during the televised trial as the judge read the verdict. As the court officer finished reciting the list of victims, his voice, already rough, sliced through the courtroom silence. “You missed one,” he drawled. “The very first one I ever killed, when I was just starting out. The one who died the worst.” “Amend the charges,” he proposed, meeting the stunned silence with chilling confidence. “And I’ll tell you who’s missing.” The room plunged into an eerie stillness, broken only by the judge’s stone-cold rejection. “Your crimes are monstrous. You don’t get to negotiate.” The crime boss merely shrugged, his eyes fixing on the female detective captain standing front and center. “Badge Number 071923, Rhys Alcott. Detective Jenkins, do you know that name? Don’t you want to know where he’s buried?” Avery Jenkins stood tall beneath the weight of every gaze in the room. Her voice was steady, each word a crisp assertion. “The person you’re referring to did exist.” “But Rhys Alcott is not dead. He’s not a detective now, either. He has been a fugitive, missing for seven years.” 1 To lend credibility to his outrageous claim, the crime boss confessed the entire process of the torture, live on the feed. How his crew had first knocked him unconscious. How they’d pulled out my fingernails and my teeth, trying to force me to reveal our police informants. And how they’d methodically shattered every bone in my body. “He screamed like hell, but he wouldn’t give up a damn thing. Not until a call came through.” “He heard the voice, and then, he just stopped screaming.” “We tried every trick in the book. Slow cuts with a razor, smashing his knees, pouring hot oil on his skin and then scrubbing it with a wire brush… He wouldn’t make a sound after that.” “That’s when we knew. It was useless. We weren’t getting anything out of him.” “Out of a perverse sense of mercy, I asked the big boss to finish it fast, and later, I handled the disposal myself.” As his flat, detached narration unfolded, the online comments slowed to a stop. A nation held its breath, choked by the horror. Only Avery Jenkins stood ramrod straight, her eyes blazing with fury. “Keep playing your role.” “You people? Show pity for a cop? Get out.” The crime boss asked for a cigarette. “Killing him and pitying him are two different things, Detective.” “At the time, I even hated myself for what I was doing. I genuinely respected the guy.” “But what can I say? I wasn’t the one calling the shots.” “I’ve killed so many people over the years—those who betrayed me, rivals in the game, people who owed me money… I’ve never regretted any of it. He’s the only one I feel bad about.” The public’s instinctive reverence for law enforcement spurred spontaneous efforts to find any clue. But Avery merely gave a cold, dismissive laugh. She stood abruptly, her voice ringing out like a final gavel. “I don’t believe a single word you’ve said.” The crime boss sighed, shaking his head. “The time, the process, the people involved—I’ve told you everything I can. There’s no point in lying to you now.” “Besides… I’m the only one who knows where he’s buried.” “It’s up to you. Decide if putting him to rest is worth a reduced sentence.” My superiors demanded a recess, ordering the prisoner be pulled back for renewed questioning. The public clamored for a full police investigation. Avery, however, stood firmly opposed. She stormed into the precinct chief’s office, slamming her hand on the desk. The chief, equally furious, issued a stern command: she was to personally head the team excavating the site the dealer had confessed to. The engine of the patrol car roared, a heavy, desperate sound. The accelerator was mashed to the floor. Watching the rage barely suppressed on her face, my spirit was consumed by a familiar, crushing sense of helplessness. She probably still believed I had willingly disgraced myself all those years ago. That I’d betrayed my ideals for dirty money, betrayed the legacy of my father’s badge. And, most painfully, betrayed her. And now, I was back to ruin the new life she’d just started with Damon. When she shifted gears, her wrist exposed the worn-out cinnabar bracelet on the gearshift—the one I’d given her years ago. But all her other dashboard decorations and trinkets had been replaced with miniature succulent charms. Even the car air freshener was a cloyingly sweet Coconut Lime Verbena scent. It was clear that Damon had thoroughly integrated himself into every corner of her new life. What she didn’t know was that I, the ‘old man,’ had been abandoned in the damp, cold earth. Suffering for seven years. 2 Seven years later, she seemed unchanged. Her features were sharp and cool, her body tall and lean, her expression detached and striking. Only, she spoke less, and her emotions were buried deeper. The silent flash of red and blue lights cut through the mountain road, pulling up to a patch of desolate, brittle winter scrub. In the dead of winter, the ground was frozen solid. A shovel struck the dirt, leaving nothing but a white scrape on the frozen surface. She took command of the scene. “Start softening the soil with the heaters. The wind’s picking up—widen the downwind isolation zone by five meters.” Damon emerged from the group of volunteers, offering her a thermos. “Drink some hot water, your voice is getting hoarse.” Avery took a sip, asking softly, “Why did you come here?” “It’s crowded and chaotic. You should head home soon.” Damon’s voice was laced with concern. “I watched the trial.” “Do you really think… it could be true?” Avery let out a low, scornful scoff, but offered no reply. Back then, both our fathers were detectives. They worked together, went on missions together, and ultimately died in the line of duty together. At their wake, we leaned against each other, our only support in the world. From that moment on, we were inseparable. We went to the police academy together, inheriting our fathers’ badge numbers. We were partners in purpose, and lovers utterly consumed by each other. Before we married, my mother, smiling through tears, hugged us both close. “I’m gaining a daughter,” Avery had said. She never broke that promise. If I wanted to chase an old case, she’d stay up for days organizing the files. When I was cornered by an armed suspect on patrol, she’d throw herself in front of me without a second thought. I couldn’t handle spicy food, and she—who loved chilies—didn’t touch a single pepper for the entire duration of our marriage. We both thought then that there was no bond stronger in the world than that of a partner and a soulmate. Who could have predicted that our relationship would shatter over a lost soul we pulled out of a drug den? I studied Damon’s handsome face. It was hard to believe that in just a few years. He’d transformed from a man reeking of addiction and fear into a polished, brooding man. Perhaps a man’s cultivated fragility is the ultimate undoing for a woman’s heart. After Damon was ‘rescued,’ he started calling Avery in the middle of the night. Crying that he couldn’t find a good job, crying about the stigma of his past drug use. Avery’s heart dissolved in those tears. Her pity and her need to save him bloomed like an unstoppable weed. She brought him into our home, giving him her entire paycheck—calling it ‘housekeeping fees.’ All the real expenses of our lives fell to me. We were barely getting by. Several times, I tried to fire Damon, but she insisted. “Rhys, Damon is so vulnerable. He’s been through so much. We have to help him.” Yet, over Avery’s shoulder, I distinctly saw the cold defiance in his eyes, aimed squarely at me. I lost it. I grabbed his hair and dragged him out the front door. He held his stinging scalp, his eyes utterly silent. And Avery, the woman who had sworn her life to mine, my partner, my soulmate. She didn’t hesitate. She raised her hand and slapped me across the face. She then cupped Damon’s face, her thumb gently wiping away the tears at his eyes. “Don’t cry, I promised you. No one will hurt you again.” She lowered her head, her voice harsh and cold when she spoke to me. “When are you going to stop with this arrogant temper of yours?” “Damon is a victim, too. How can you wear that badge and treat him like this?” But in this relationship, the one that had been betrayed. Weren’t she and Damon conspiring to emotionally ‘assault’ me? A thousand desperate words clogged my throat in that single moment. In the end, I simply packed my bags in silence and moved into the police academy dorms. Apart from official work correspondence, I didn’t speak another word to her. I actually knew that she and Damon had never been physically intimate. I was just so angry. She was giving the gentleness and indulgence that used to be exclusively mine to another man. While leaving me to pay for the boring, expensive realities of our life together. We kept this awful stalemate going for months. Every day, I thought, maybe tomorrow, I’ll apologize, and we’ll go back to normal. But the next day, the words would die on my lips, choked by my pride and my sense of being wronged. Tragedy, as always, arrived faster than reconciliation. I never got to see her turn back. Instead, I stumbled upon a devastating truth. Damon had secret, undeniable ties to the ruthless criminal syndicate we had been chasing for years. 3 A sudden, jarring sound of suction dragged me out of the memory. The crowd erupted in a clamor. “We found something!” “Careful, lend a hand!” Avery recoiled, blurting out, “No, impossible!” “He wanted to make a statement, to see me look foolish and desperate. There can’t actually be bones…” Her voice was low, a whisper of self-deception. Damon’s voice was filled with false worry. “Avery, do you think… Rhys might have killed someone?” “He always had a quick temper. If pushed, he could do anything…” Avery instantly clamped her mouth shut, her jaw tight. She shoved her way into the crowd. “I’ll take a look.” My spirit hovered above the scattered, residual fragments of my bones. The cold wind pierced the fragments, and I gave a bitter, soundless chuckle. This was the true definition of ‘cold to the bone.’ She brushed the dirt off a broken piece of bone. Even through the thick gloves, I could feel the faint warmth of her fingertips. My soul trembled. Suddenly, I desperately didn’t want her to see me like this. If I could have any memory of myself left for her, I wished it would be of the strong, stubborn, vibrant man she had loved. But now, I could only look up in silent worship at the woman who was once my life. I greedily drank in that single, fleeting trace of warmth from her touch. The medical examiner collected the remains, and the crowd slowly dispersed. Avery stayed behind, alone. Until the first weak rays of dawn touched the horizon, she suddenly pulled out her phone and began frantically dialing a number. “Du—Du—” “The number you have dialed is not in service. Please check the number and try again.” The wind in the desolate field was harsh, turning her nose red. A few muffled sobs were shredded by the cold. “Rhys, this isn’t real…” “It’s a prank, isn’t it?” A pair of arms wrapped around her neck, the man’s breath hot against her ear. Damon’s voice was shaky. “Avery.” “Are you still… holding onto him?” Avery’s body jerked violently. A heart-stopping silence. She let out a slow, tired breath. “It’s over.” “I only have you now.” Damon’s arms tightened. “Avery, I’m so afraid you’ll leave me—” “I gave you everything. Please, don’t let me down.” Seven years of being a ghost had tempered my temper. I could now appreciate his performance with perfect calm. This man was born with two faces. Towards Avery, he was forever the damaged, silent victim; towards me, his eyes were full of venom and provocation. Sometimes, I genuinely wondered what deep, ancient feud lay between us. Why did he hate me so much? It wasn’t until my last moments that I finally understood. There was a feud. His father had died years ago, shot by my father and Avery’s father during an armed standoff. Stripped of protection, he quickly became a tool for the local syndicate—a ‘sacrifice.’ “You know what I hate about you the most?” He crouched in front of me, his voice sinister. “We both lost our fathers. Why do you get to live so easily?” “Why does Avery still love you more?!” The realization hit me with the force of a hammer. Love and hatred—both equally destructive. Damon had originally intended to avenge his father by destroying both me and Avery. But he fell in love with Avery instead. And that only made him hate me more. 4 The morning sun stretched their shadows long, intertwined. Watching their overlaid figures, I felt a flicker of curiosity. If Avery knew Damon’s true identity, how would she react? Would she continue to pity and cherish him, or would she be repulsed? I couldn’t guess the answer. Fate is a playwright obsessed with cruelty. It arranged for the police officer who killed a criminal to die at the hands of that criminal’s son. And it arranged for the police officer’s daughter, unknowingly, to marry the man who orchestrated the murder of her soulmate. Sometimes, I wish Damon had been an adult when his father died. His file wouldn’t have been sealed. And we wouldn’t have mistaken the son who took over his father’s criminal enterprise for an innocent addict seeking salvation. Then, perhaps, I wouldn’t have died so horribly. Every single one of my bones bore scars, both deep and shallow. In that place, I had screamed, fought, begged, and questioned. But they only laughed, breaking my limbs and pulling out my teeth one by one. They kept demanding the location of the police mole and our informants. In the end, they injected me with three shots of adrenaline. So I could be wide awake to watch them slice open my abdomen and throw my organs into a dog bowl. But I had actually been given one chance to live. Before they completely hollowed out my body, Damon, flanked by several grim-faced men, came to me. “You’re good. You almost took down my entire operation.” “I was going to kill you, but Khai convinced me you could be useful.” “All you have to do is confess to corruption, take the fall, let the police close the case, and you can live out the rest of your life comfortably in prison.” I managed a grimace. “In your dreams.” His smile instantly turned ugly. “Refuse, and you disappear.” “A few years from now, Avery will forget all about you anyway.” I closed my eyes in silence. Damon suddenly spoke again. “It’s the anniversary of your father’s death today, isn’t it?” “Every year, Avery goes with you to the cemetery to pay respects.” I became instantly alert. “What are you planning?” “Nothing. I just happened to drop a little paper trail suggesting you were bribing dirty cops. The money flow coincidentally points straight to you.” Damon’s voice was a hiss, like a viper striking. “I know she won’t believe it. But she’ll use it as an excuse to reach out and try to reconcile.” “Men are petty, Rhys. What I can’t have, I’d rather destroy.” The words were barely out of his mouth when Avery’s call came through, insistent and frantic. Damon nodded. “Answer it. Tell her to bring the cops here.” I took the call. Avery asked where I was, wanting to confirm some things in person. She also wanted to apologize, and then take me to the cemetery. But her apology had come too late. Even if I survived, I would be a husk of a man for the rest of my life. So I said nothing. Khai grew impatient and raised a blowtorch to my thigh. The smell of searing flesh filled the air. I forced myself not to make a sound. Avery. She was my closest partner, and my dearest lover. She gave me the happiest time of my life. If I had one wish left at the end of my life, I would give everything to ensure her safety. However, Avery seemed to sense something. Her tone instantly became fraught with tension. “Rhys, are you in danger? Can you not talk? Hold on, I’m coming to find you right now!” I shook my head violently, pouring the last of my strength into a desperate shout into the receiver. “Don’t—” “Don’t come looking for me! We’re done, do you understand?” “Go live your life with your charity case! I’m… I’m sick of you!” I hung up, a bleak smile twisting my mouth. “Damon, you win.” Go back and comfort her. She’s yours now. After that day, they slept together. They fell into a natural rhythm and became a model couple, even having a child together. And I died on the coldest day of winter. Buried under the wilderness for seven years. Until today, when the medical examiner held the DNA results, his eyes filled with sorrow. “Detective Jenkins, the deceased is confirmed to be Rhys Alcott.” “Badge Number 071923… is sealed again.”

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Just because I peeled a shrimp for my husband, I was secretly filmed by “Feminist_Icon_Bella,” a massive influencer, and labeled a “Trad Wife Pick-Me” who sets women back fifty years. Within minutes, my social media was flooded with hate. My husband, heartbroken, wanted to unleash his legal team to defend me, but I stopped him just in time. In my past life, we did exactly that—we used the law to fight back. But just as we were about to win, Bella livestreamed her “suicide attempt,” and overnight, we were branded murderers. The public backlash destroyed my husband’s law firm. My parents died from heart attacks brought on by the stress. And finally, I was pushed into oncoming traffic by one of her deranged fans. After my death, Bella miraculously “survived,” gained six million followers, and became the top streamer on the platform. Only then did I realize it was all a orchestrated stunt for clout. And she targeted me simply because the guy she liked rejected her that day, using me—a random passerby—as his excuse. When I opened my eyes again, the first thing I did was put on my best “battle armor”—a designer dress—and apply the most perfect “no-makeup” makeup look to become the ultimate “Trad Wife.” This time, I’m going to use her as my stepping stone to the top. … When I got home, my social media was, predictably, under siege, just like in my past life. The same filthy comments, filled with creative insults about my mother. My husband, Mark, was furious. He wanted his lawyers to get justice for me immediately, but I stopped him. He was confused. “Honey, this influencer, Bella, is clearly using us for clout. Are we really going to do nothing?” I smiled and shook my head. “Of course not. But we can’t explain ourselves. Instead, we need to lean into it.” Seeing his confusion, I air-dropped him several clips of me looking my best. In every video, my skin looked like a peeled hard-boiled egg—smooth, soft, and radiating a vibe that made people want to protect me. “Instead of explaining, let’s drown them in aesthetics. Pretty privilege is real. I’m going to be the most beautiful ‘Trad Wife’ they’ve ever seen.” Mark didn’t get it, but he followed my lead. I didn’t stay idle either. After he left, I found the best angle, made sure I looked stunning, and started a livestream. Because of the trending topic, people flooded in. Some, total strangers, immediately started calling me a gold-digger and a disgrace to women. I didn’t get angry. I just apologized softly, constantly emphasizing how sorry I was for “shaming women.” I even adjusted the angle to show off my best side, sniffing tearfully as I said I shouldn’t have served food to the man I love. Instantly, half the aggressive comments died down. Many people started telling me not to cry, saying I only served some food and didn’t commit a crime. Of course, some were determined to smear me from start to finish. I saw a familiar alt account and recognized it immediately as Bella. I leaned in close to the camera, maximizing the impact of my face. Seeing the comments shift to praising my looks, I started reading the hate comments through my tears. “This… ‘Princess_Slayer’… I don’t… even know you… You can insult me… but please… don’t bring my family into this…” My tear-stained face was pitiful and endearing. The netizens turned their fire on Bella’s alt account, throwing the same insults she hurled at me right back at her. I waved my hands frantically, crying out, “Please, everyone, don’t be angry for my sake. It’s her fault for being mean, but if you get angry because of me, then it’s my fault.” Being so understanding only made people pity me more. Countless commenters shouted that I wasn’t a “Trad Wife” but a sweet, soft angel. I widened my eyes, red like a rabbit’s, and pouted. “Ah, thank you everyone… thank you for believing in me… To thank you, I…” I paused deliberately, looked around, then trotted away and came back with a plate of shrimp. “I love peeling shrimp for people I like… Can I peel them for you guys?” The chat was charmed, teasing me to make me happy. A “shrimp-peeling Trad Wife” scandal unknowingly became the stepping stone for my own traffic. In one livestream, I gained 100,000 followers. Looking at that number, the smile never left my face. I was so stupid in my last life. Why fight head-on? Water can float a boat, but it can also capsize it. If I use the traffic Bella sent me correctly, it can become the ladder I use to climb over her. The next morning, I went viral again. Because of the livestream clips, the marketing accounts were reposting videos where I looked simply too beautiful. Anyone who saw me couldn’t help but follow. Aside from a few hate DMs, my inbox was full of girls asking how my skin was so perfect. To answer them, I posted my first video, focusing on my skincare routine. I studied medical aesthetics, and with my naturally good skin, the video quickly got over 300,000 likes. The niche skincare products I recommended sold out instantly. Seeing my purchasing power, brands realized my value. Many reached out for collaborations. I didn’t rush. I politely declined them for now. But to annoy Bella, I screenshotted the offers and posted them. Caption: [I only recommend products I actually use. If I do ads in the future, I’ll let everyone know!] Seeing this, Bella went insane. Her alt account unleashed a tirade on me. [You b*tch, seducing men wasn’t enough? You have to steal my other things too? You really look like a fox.] [Don’t get cocky. The higher people lift you now, the harder you’ll fall later!] [Just you wait. I will ruin you. I’ll make you and your family rot in hell.] … In my past life, I would have fought back. But now, I just screenshotted everything as evidence. When Bella starts to crumble, this will be the fatal blow. She was furious. She posted two angry videos emphasizing that my shrimp peeling was “self-debasement,” putting myself beneath a man for his love. She also claimed my love for makeup and skincare was for men, calling it the “beauty tax” and severe objectification—treating myself as a tool to please men. Listening to her jealousy overflowing through the screen, I only found it laughable. In my past life, on International Women’s Day, she was exposed for getting a nose job at a clinic, accompanied by a sugar daddy ten years her senior. Later, those trending topics were suddenly removed, and she cried “fake news” to win back her fans. It’s March 5th now. Only three days left. I’m going to watch her dig her own grave, and then I’ll help kick her in. But before that, I need to get close to her obsession, Kevin. The other murderer who destroyed my family! The first time I heard of this man was the day my family was ruined by Bella. I asked her why she wouldn’t let me go. She said I stole the person she loved. I explained I didn’t know him at all. But she paranoidly asked why Kevin praised my beauty if I didn’t know him, and why he said he’d only date someone like me. I couldn’t answer. It wasn’t until after I died, as my soul was fading, that I heard Kevin’s friend ask him why he used me as an excuse to reject Bella. “She’s insanely jealous. She hates it when I say others are prettier than her. This way, even if I reject her, she won’t blame me or ask for her money back.” His friend praised his cleverness. I shook with rage. Because of this undeserved disaster, my family was dead or insane. Intense resentment made me want to tear this trash apart, but I could only watch as my soul dissipated. Thank god fate gave me another chance. This time, I won’t just punish Bella. I’m dragging Kevin to hell with her. Bella fell in love with Kevin at first sight when he “saved” her at her lowest point. She spent money on him endlessly, granting his every wish. Kevin was a master manipulator. He used her money to play the rich playboy outside, mixing with the wealthy crowd and constantly finding new women. But Bella, afraid of angering him, didn’t dare monitor him and obeyed his every word. But now, to guard against me, she has people watching me. I’m going to use that. I’ll deliberately parade in front of Kevin, forcing her to see who he really is. Let them destroy each other. The location: The Nightshade Bar. Kevin was known here as “Young Master Kevin,” always buying rounds. Every night, he booked VIP Room 302. Bella knew this, but she didn’t know what Kevin did in that room! So when I appeared at the bar, she automatically assumed I was there to seduce Kevin. Half an hour later, hearing the roar of a Porsche, I handed a red bill to the bartender. “If anyone asks where I went, make sure to say Room 302.” The bartender took the cash and agreed smoothly. When Bella found out, she stormed over and kicked open the door to Room 302. When the door opened, Kevin was making out with the women around him. Not one, but five. Bella broke down. She grabbed a glass and smashed it on the sofa. Liquor splashed everywhere. Kevin’s degenerate friends looked furious. “Kevin, where did you find this psycho? She has no manners!” “Yeah, how can a man let a woman ride on his head like this? If you’re this whipped, we can’t hang with you anymore!” Bella exploded at the word “psycho.” She grabbed a bottle and threw it at the man who said it. Luckily, Kevin pulled him away just in time, or it would have hit his head. Filming from a distance, I sighed. Pity no one died. “Have you caused enough trouble, Bella?!” Kevin raised his hand and slapped her hard across the face, saying coldly: “If you keep this up, you never need to see me again.” That one sentence brought her back to reality. She lowered her head and apologized meekly. Kevin’s friends whistled, praising him for being a “real man” who knew how to handle women. Having regained face, Kevin, to show off further, pushed Bella to sit next to Nick, the rich kid she almost hit. “Toast him. You can leave when Nick forgives you.” Bella, who preached independence and strength in her videos, didn’t say a word. She tilted her head back and chugged. After downing three full bottles, she hugged the toilet, vomiting and having diarrhea. But this didn’t earn her a shred of sympathy from Kevin. While she was passed out, he shoved her into Nick’s car. Watching the car drive away, I felt nothing. This is what she owes me. What she owes my family. Sneering, I anonymously sent the photos to Nick’s fiancée. The next day, Nick’s fiancée, Ms. Cao, stormed a villa to catch the mistress, and the video trended at number one. The mistress’s face was clearly visible: a terrified Bella. A feminist icon who taught women self-love was proven to be a mistress. The irony was palpable, and it broke the internet. Her fans felt humiliated and frantically demanded the truth. But Bella disappeared, refusing to respond. This is a classic internet tactic: thinking silence will make people forget. Later, she plans to make a comeback once the storm passes. But she underestimated how many enemies she made this year, and how terrible her character truly is. Soon, influencers came out to expose her one by one. Plastic surgery, stealing boyfriends, maliciously gossiping about other influencers’ looks… the dirt piled up. It stank to high heaven. I also released screenshots of her alt account abusing me, adding “cyberbullying a regular person” to her list of sins. But she had plenty of bots and die-hard fans crying that she was being framed. They listed her charity work over the years. Many comments read: [I don’t believe someone who loves charity can be that bad.] [Exactly. We must trust her. We refuse to participate in a witch hunt against a woman.] [Everyone, remember: Girls help Girls.] Reading the comments, I felt sick. The rise of feminism is hard enough without people like her exploiting the movement for clout. The netizens aren’t wrong; the people using them are. And Bella played this game perfectly. That night, looking pale, she started a livestream. She started by crying. When she was tired of crying, she mentioned the events of the previous night. I knew she was looking for a scapegoat to whitewash herself, but I didn’t expect her to choose me! “I didn’t know anything… Vivian (me) wanted me to help her change her ‘Pick-Me’ mindset. She asked me out for drinks.” “But after I drank, she left mysteriously. I was dizzy and got put into Nick’s car.” She held up her phone, showing “evidence” that we were in the same surveillance footage, editing the timestamps to make it look like we arrived one after another. This montage was enough for netizens to construct a narrative where I maliciously set her up for revenge. In an instant, I knew why she picked me. She hates me, but she dares not offend Nick. She needed someone she had a conflict with who was also at the bar. I fit the bill perfectly. Except she didn’t count on me having a detailed video. I started a livestream and boldly requested a PK (battle) with Bella. She refused, so I cried, bit my lip, and showed my evidence. “I don’t know why a big influencer is targeting me like this. If my friend hadn’t sent me this, I would have died with this injustice.” “She called me a Pick-Me, abused me on her alt, and now she’s framing me. She really wants to drive me to death. If that’s the case, I have to use the law to protect myself.” Bella was terrified. She immediately ended her stream and fled. This brief victory resulted in her losing followers and me gaining 500,000. But I knew it wasn’t over. That night, she went to scout the abandoned building where she “committed suicide” in my past life. According to my monitor, she wasn’t just picking the best angle; she had someone rig a wire and specifically set up a safety cushion. In my past life, she claimed she would prove her innocence with death. In the suicide video, she edited out the wire using the night sky. Then she quickly had herself “cremated,” leaving only a pile of ash for the police. Because death absolves all, public opinion flipped. We, who were in the right, became murderers. Thinking of this, I anonymously called a number from my memory. “The chance for revenge is here. Want to cooperate?” “How?” “I’ll help you put Kevin in jail. You help me deal with Bella.” Lydia agreed without hesitation. If there’s anyone in this world who hates them more than me, it’s her. Her daughter, whom she loved for twenty years, was Bella’s assistant. Kevin raped her. Afterward, Bella not only didn’t help but accused the daughter of seduction, driving her to a mental breakdown and suicide. In my past life, Lydia sought me out to join forces. The hatred in her eyes was unforgettable. This time, I didn’t hesitate to make her my ally. Especially since she used to work in maintenance. She knows exactly how to make a wire fatal. After verifying the plan, we hung up. Then, I received an anonymous message.

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I turned myself in to security exactly twenty minutes before I pushed my husband into the ocean. The security officer looked bewildered. “Ma’am, are you saying you’re going to commit a murder?” I nodded, checking my watch. “It is currently 5:05 PM. In twenty minutes, my husband will go overboard by my hand. You need to arrest me. Now.” “Is this a joke? I’ve never had a killer confess before the crime.” He rolled his eyes and turned back to his monitor. Desperate, I grabbed a heavy crystal sculpture from the atrium display and smashed it onto the marble floor. Crash. As the handcuffs clicked around my wrists, I finally exhaled. In my past life, my husband was pushed off a cruise ship by the “love of his life.” He drowned, his body lost to the dark waters. Before I could even process his death, the police arrested me. The ship’s surveillance footage clearly showed me pushing him over the railing. But when it happened, I was in my cabin with my stepfather. I had an alibi. I begged my stepfather to testify for me. Instead, he told the police that my company was bankrupt and I had planned to kill my husband for the insurance money. I was convicted of first-degree murder and sentenced to lethal injection. Until the moment I died, I couldn’t understand why the entire world was convinced I did it. Then I opened my eyes. I was back on the ship, twenty minutes before my husband was supposed to die. 1 “Excuse me? You said you’re going to kill someone?” I tapped the face of my watch frantically. “Yes! It’s 5:05 PM. In twenty minutes, I’m going to push my husband, Chase, into the Atlantic. You have to lock me up!” The air in the grand atrium seemed to freeze. The security guard looked me up and down like I belonged in a straitjacket. “Lady, are you high? Or just off your meds?” “I’m not lying! Detain me now, and in twenty minutes you’ll see I’m telling the truth!” The guard frowned, his disdain obvious. “Look, if this is some kinky roleplay you and your husband are into, keep me out of it. Don’t disturb the other guests.” He started to walk away. Panic surged through me. I grabbed a large, expensive ceramic vase from a pedestal and hurled it at the floor. Smash! The sound of shattering pottery echoed through the hall. Tourists screamed and scattered. “Are you crazy?!” the guard shouted. He reached for me, but I started grabbing anything I could reach—ashtrays, decorative plates—throwing them like a maniac. “What is security doing? Grab her!” “We paid thousands for a luxury cruise, not to watch a mental breakdown!” The crowd’s anger boiled over. Finally, the Head of Security arrived with backup. They tackled me to the ground, twisting my arms behind my back and slapping on the cuffs. “I’ve never seen anything like it,” the young guard told his boss, panting. “She walked up, said she was gonna kill someone, and when I didn’t arrest her, she started destroying the lobby.” The cold steel against my skin made me feel safer than I had in years. “Take her to the brig. Keep an eye on her. Don’t let her move.” The brig—a glorified holding cell—was empty and quiet. I closed my eyes and counted the seconds. In my last life, this was a family trip. Chase’s “best friend,” Harper, had begged to come along. I had refused at first. But Chase insisted. He said Harper was getting married soon and moving to Europe; this was her final send-off. I reluctantly agreed. I didn’t know that while they were watching the sunset on the deck, they would argue, and Harper would shove him overboard. I had tried to get the crew to save him, but the sun had set, and the waves were too rough. By morning, he was gone. Before I could even mourn, the authorities came for me. “We have probable cause to detain you for the death of Chase Miller.” I was shocked. “Harper pushed him! I saw it from the balcony! You have the wrong person!” But they showed me the footage. It was me in the video. I looked to my stepfather, Richard, for help. He just shook his head. “Sierra, you have to pay for your crimes.” I couldn’t believe he was lying. I was with him when Chase fell. It was all a lie. A setup. “Sierra Vance, just confess. Everyone on deck saw you do it.” One person can lie. But a whole deck of witnesses? A security camera? I went to my execution screaming that it was Harper. Now, I sat in the brig, waiting. 2 Tick. Tock. Suddenly, a dull thud vibrated through the hull, barely audible over the engine’s hum. Screams erupted from the deck above. I knew it. Chase had gone over. Moments later, heavy boots pounded down the hallway. The young guard kicked the door open. He froze when he saw me sitting exactly where he left me. “How… you’re still here?” Before he could finish, a mob of tourists pushed past him. “That’s her! She’s the killer! I saw her push him!” “Don’t let her escape! We all saw it!” A guy in a flashy shirt was holding up a phone, live-streaming the whole thing. “Yo, chat! We caught the killer! She’s right here! Like the stream if you want to see justice served!” I turned away from the camera, rattling my handcuffs against the metal pipe I was tethered to. “What’s going on? I’ve been chained here for twenty minutes.” The mob paused, confused, looking at my restraints. “Ask the guard,” I said loudly. “I caused a scene in the lobby. He arrested me. He has the key.” The young guard, looking terrified but honest, nodded. “Yeah… I locked her up twenty minutes ago. The key has been in my pocket the whole time. She couldn’t have been on the deck.” In my last life, I was too busy trying to save Chase to notice the trap closing around me. This time, I had the ultimate alibi. The crowd murmured. “Wait, did we get the wrong person?” “I saw her in the lobby earlier, she was smashing vases. It took three guys to take her down.” “Move, let us through! We need to find the real killer!” The streamer looked disappointed. “False alarm, guys?” Just then, Harper pushed through the crowd, her face twisted in grief and rage. “Sierra! You heartless monster! Chase wanted a divorce, so you decided to kill him?!” “Everyone listen! The man in the water is her husband! She killed him because she couldn’t handle rejection!” Harper sobbed theatrically. “Poor Chase… he was willing to give her everything just to be free, but she wouldn’t let him go!” The crowd’s mood swung instantly. “It was her husband? That’s messed up.” “If they were getting divorced, she definitely had a motive.” “Look at her face, she looks guilty as hell!” I tried to speak, but the streamer guy saw his view count dropping and decided to spice things up. He kicked me in the ribs. I was chained to the pipe and couldn’t dodge. I curled up on the floor, groaning. The chat on his screen went wild. User123: Kick her again! Justice for the husband! AlphaMale88: Typical toxic ex. She needs to be taught a lesson. Encouraged, the mob surged forward. I took a few hits, my hair pulled, my face scratched. “Enough!” The Head of Security slammed his baton against the doorframe. “Back off! This is a holding cell, not a fight club. Back off or you all go in the brig!” The crowd retreated. I pulled myself up, wiping blood from my lip. “I didn’t kill anyone,” I said, my voice cold. “If you don’t believe me, check the security tapes in this room.” 3 The young guard scrambled to the console. He pulled up the footage. It showed me sitting there, handcuffed, the entire time. The crowd went silent. Harper’s eyes darted around nervously. “You can’t just check this room! Check the deck! The crime scene!” The Head of Security pulled up the deck feed. On the screen, Chase and I were standing in a secluded corner of the deck. We were arguing. Suddenly, the “Sierra” on the screen screamed, shoved Chase violently over the rail, and ran away. The video ended. My mind raced. The woman on the screen looked exactly like me. Same height, same build, same clothes. But it was Harper who was watching the sunset with him. How did she turn into me? The internet chat was confused too. SimpSlayer: Wait, how can she be in two places at once? CSI_Miami_Fan: Is she a twin? Or is that a deepfake? LawyerUp: If she has an alibi in custody, the video evidence is compromised. Reasonable doubt. “It’s the same person!” Harper shrieked, pointing at the screen. “Look closely! It’s Sierra!” “When one spouse dies, the other is always the prime suspect!” “She probably bribed these guards to create an alibi! Don’t let her trick you!” Before I could defend myself, my stepfather, Richard, burst into the room. Slap! His hand connected hard with my cheek. “Sierra! I didn’t raise you to be a murderer!” “I told you I would fix the company’s debt! You didn’t have to kill Chase for the insurance money!” Richard threw a stack of documents onto the floor. The streamer zoomed in. CryptoKing: Holy sht! Two life insurance policies! Twenty million dollars!* TradWife4Life: She did it for the money. Disgusting. Harper smirked through her fake tears. “Witnesses, video evidence, and motive. It’s over, Sierra. You’re going to rot in prison.” “A life for a life!” the mob chanted. “A life for a life!” Even the young guard looked at me with disgust now. Suddenly, my phone rang. The guard looked at his boss, who nodded. He uncuffed one of my hands so I could answer. “Are you going to order a hit on us too?” Harper sneered. I ignored her. It was my assistant. I listened to the report, and a smile spread across my face. Richard wiped his fake tears. “Sierra, admit it. I can’t protect you anymore. I will demand the police prosecute you to the fullest extent of the law!” If I hadn’t lived through this before, I would have been heartbroken by his betrayal. I laughed, a dry, hollow sound. “Dad. You loved Chase so much. Is it because he’s actually your biological son?” Richard froze. “You crazy bitch, what are you saying?” “I raised you! I treated you like my own! You ungrateful brat!” I looked straight into the streamer’s camera lens. “Stop acting. I know everything. Chase is your illegitimate son. You brought him into the company, you set us up, and you helped him drain my accounts.” “Isn’t that right… Chase?” 4 The room went dead silent. ConspiracyTheory101: Wait, is the victim… not dead? OceanLover: If he fell into the ocean at night, he’s shark food. She’s bluffing. Harper stepped forward. “Chase is gone! You pushed him! How dare you disrespect the dead!” Richard clutched his chest. “You are accusing me of… this is insane! I would never hurt my own daughter!” “Daughter?” I scoffed. “If I was your daughter, would you be so eager to see me executed? You just want me out of the way so you and your son can enjoy the payout.” “We can do a DNA test right now. There must be Chase’s hair in the cabin. Let’s see who his real father is.” The crowd murmured. Richard’s reaction was too suspicious. Richard gritted his teeth. “I raised you! That’s more than blood! And now you treat me like a dog!” Harper jumped in. “Richard is a saint! You’re the monster! You killed his son!” I laughed. “No, Harper. You killed him.” “Or tried to.” “You weren’t in your room like you planned. You got greedy.” Harper turned pale. “I… I was in my room!” “Really? Because I have proof you weren’t.” I lunged at her. The crowd screamed and scattered. Harper shrieked and dodged, but the man in black standing behind her—her “bodyguard”—wasn’t fast enough. I tackled him. His cap flew off. His mask slipped. The face beneath was scarred, horrific. But I recognized the eyes.

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For thirteen years, I’ve been the Head Chef at the most exclusive private high school in the city, feeding the kids of the ultra-rich. They call it the cafeteria, but my food is the real draw. I’ve spoiled every single one of those privileged palates. We weren’t wealthy, but my husband, Scott, was honest and hardworking, and our daughter, Tess, was bright and beautiful. I always felt like my life was perfectly—simply—happy. That was until my ten-year-old, Tess, got into a minor spat with a few mean girls at her elementary school and was shoved off a fourth-floor roof. My honest, gentle husband went to the school seeking justice and was thrown out of a black SUV at the school gates, his legs broken, like trash. That afternoon, I was sitting by my serving window, wiping away quiet tears, when a hand lightly touched my shoulder. “Aunt Brenda, what’s good for lunch today?” I hastily rubbed my face. I looked up to see a group of the usually loud and joking students standing there, their expressions unexpectedly serious. “Aunt Brenda, who hurt you? Why are you crying?” 1 The morning started with soft, fat snowflakes drifting past the window. I pulled out the fresh ingredients I’d prepped the night before, chopping them fine, mixing them into the seasoned meat, and kneading the mixture until it was firm. I added the flavorings and a drizzle of hot oil, and the aroma instantly blossomed. I glanced over at the giant stockpot — the cream stew had been cooking, turning a milky white, bubbling softly. I pulled out the cooked chicken breast and sliced it thin, then started making a huge stockpot of hummus. Only then did I begin making the sandwiches. The lunch bell was a chaotic explosion, and moments later, the students flooded in. Jax Peterson, the most notorious troublemaker, was the first one to the window. “Aunt Brenda! I’m starving. What’s the special?” I smiled back. “It’s the first real snow, honey. I made four kinds of sandwiches. If you don’t want sandwiches, there’s lamb broth, and if you want hummus, I have that beautiful cream stew!” Right behind him, Caleb Harrison, who’d grown up with Jax, strolled in slowly. “All this variety, Aunt Brenda? Aren’t you working yourself too hard?” He leaned closer. “By the way, my father said your raise for next year is basically confirmed. And the European study tour the school organizes over the summer? You can bring Tess. The school will cover all the expenses. Come hang out with us.” Caleb was the Chairman of the Board’s son. He looked distant, but when he spoke, the matter was settled. I beamed, my face splitting into a wide grin, and served him a huge bowl of the lcream stew, the meat piled high like a little mountain. Jax, standing next to him, immediately protested. “Aunt Brenda, you’re playing favorites! Why does his bowl have more meat than mine?” “You’ll both get plenty! There’s plenty in the pot. Come back for seconds if you need to!” I gestured to the bounty behind me. “It’s all yours!” Jax almost jumped for joy. “Woo! Aunt Brenda, I love you!” 2 I grew up poor, the eldest of three, cooking for the whole family on a stool by the stove by the time I was seven. When I finished middle school, my father, puffing on his cheap, hand-rolled cigarette, told me they couldn’t afford high school. The next day, I shredded my acceptance letter, packed a flimsy duffel bag, and caught the northbound train. I was fifteen. I started on an electronics assembly line, then lucked into a big restaurant as a line cook’s assistant. The head chef, seeing I was diligent and just a kid, took pity on me and taught me the real craft. I used my savings for night school and got my certification. When I was twenty-one, I landed the job here at this elite school. Thirteen years. It went by in a blur. After I finished the kitchen clean-up at three o’clock, I went to pick up Tess from her elementary school nearby. She’s ten years old, in fourth grade. When she saw me, she presented a certificate like a trophy. “Mom! I won first place in the city-wide writing contest! My teacher said I get to go to the national competition next month!” My hands shook. I pulled her into a tight hug. “Oh, Tess! My brilliant girl!” “Tell me what you want for dinner. Tonight, your dad is cooking!” Tess’s ponytail bounced as she skipped along, holding my hand. That’s when I felt the icy prickle on my back—like someone was watching us. I turned around. Two girls about Tess’s age were standing by the school entrance, glaring at us with a cold, malevolent gaze. “Who are they, sweetie?” I asked Tess. Tess followed my eyes, and her face immediately fell. “We used to be best friends.” “She wanted me to pass her a note during the last test, and I said no. Now she’s not speaking to me.” She looked up, worried. “Mom, did I do the wrong thing?” I shook my head, squatting down to smooth her wind-blown hair. “No, Tess. You did exactly the right thing. That kind of friend is no loss.” That evening, Scott came home at six. He was carrying a fancy box from an upscale bakery. It was to celebrate Tess’s award. “And, you know… to celebrate our twelfth anniversary.” I flushed a little. “We’re old news, Scott. You don’t need to do all that sentimental stuff…” His own face turned red. He scratched his head. “The lady at the bakery said anniversaries need ‘rituals.’ You relax, I’m cooking tonight.” Scott was a quiet man, not one for flowery words. He just worked hard. Soon, a table full of our favorite food appeared. We lit the candles. Tess closed her eyes, making a wish. “I hope our family of three stays together forever, and Mom and Dad are healthy, and we get richer!” 3 Since the school was far from home, I usually stayed in the staff dorms during the week and only came home on weekends. When I went back to school on Monday, Scott handed me a large bag of his new pastries. “A few of your students helped me out a while ago. There was some trouble at the shop, and they stepped in, then bought a ton of stuff. Give these to them as a thank you.” After the lunch rush, I gave the pastries to a few of the girls I knew best. Jax, with his hawk-like eyes, saw the treats and started to wail. “Aunt Brenda! Playing favorites again! Why do the girls get all the goodies and I don’t?” One of the girls rolled her eyes. “Got a problem with that?” “No, no problem,” Jax said, grinning as he sidled closer. “I just wanted to ask Aunt Brenda for the bakery’s number. I need to buy some for my little sister.” “Cut it out. If you want one, just ask. You always use your sister as an excuse.” Listening to the kids’ noisy banter made my heart warm. 4 When I first started here, I was a stranger to all the students. It wasn’t until my third year that a particular girl caught my attention. Every day, she would linger at the serving window, eventually taking only the cheapest vegetable dish. I knew the drill: this school wasn’t just for the trust fund babies; they had a few merit scholars from tough backgrounds. So, every time I served her, I’d secretly bury a few pieces of short rib or baked salmon under the mountain of pasta. It was my quiet ritual. A few days later, the girl brought the tray back and, without a word, pushed it toward me. “I don’t like salmon, and I didn’t order this. Why did you decide to do this?” Her face was cold. That’s when I saw the shiny, expensive bracelet on her wrist. I realized I’d misjudged, and my face went hot. “I’m so sorry… I’ll get you a fresh plate right away.” My intention was simple: I’d suffered because of a lack of education and money. I wanted these kids to eat well and feel strong. You need fuel to study. I gave her a new plate of food. She was about to leave when she saw me serve the next student—a skinny boy—and saw my hand instinctively give his plate an extra box of milk. She paused. A moment later, she walked back to me. “I apologize. My attitude was wrong just now.” I stared at her, confused. “I thought… I thought you recognized me as the Chairman’s daughter and were trying to suck up to me.” Her name was Skylar Harrison, Caleb’s older sister. She told me she usually ate at home and had only come to the cafeteria that day because she’d fought with her family. From then on, we became friends. Whenever I introduced a new dish, I’d always ask Skylar to try it. “Aunt Brenda, these chicken wings are amazing. What’s the secret?” “I tried marinating them in a little plain yogurt.” “That’s a French technique, Aunt Brenda. You know French cuisine?” Her eyes went wide. I laughed, a little embarrassed. “French or not, I just experiment. I love looking at cookbooks.” “Seriously,” she said. “Your talent is wasted in a cafeteria. If you opened a private supper club, you’d be famous.” I had considered it. But… “I don’t know,” I said, thinking it over. “Being here, with all these young people, it just feels… secure.” Watching these bright, lively kids, it felt like I’d finally finished the high school I never got to attend. Thirteen years. I’d just finished the lunch rush that day when Tess’s homeroom teacher called. “Mrs. Miller, you need to come to the school. Tess is in trouble.” My stomach dropped. “What happened?” “A fight with a classmate. It’s gotten complicated. We need to have a meeting with the parents.” Jax, who hadn’t left yet, asked, “Aunt Brenda, what’s wrong? You look sick.” I was already ripping off my apron and heading for the door. “Nothing. I just have to run down to the elementary school.” “If you need anything, Aunt Brenda, just say the word!” 5 I threw open the office door and immediately saw Tess. Her ponytail was pulled out, and there were two bleeding scratch marks on her cheek. Standing opposite her was Madison Sinclair, the girl who had been glaring at us from the school entrance last week. Madison’s mother, Veronica Sinclair, was next to her, dressed in an expensive designer coat. She was holding Madison’s arm and yelling at Tess. “Such a vicious little brat! Look what she did to my daughter!” Her sharp, manicured nail was dangerously close to Tess’s eye. Rage flashed through me. I bolted forward, shielding Tess with my body. “Get away from my child!” I knelt down, quickly checking Tess over, and only when I confirmed there were no other injuries did I let out a breath. Veronica Sinclair looked me up and down, sizing up my work clothes, which I hadn’t had time to change out of. She let out a sneering laugh. “Who do you think you are, talking to me like that? Do you even know who I am?” I took a deep breath. “I don’t care who you are. Let’s talk facts, not bullying a child with your supposed power!” The homeroom teacher, Ms. Adams, finally intervened. “Alright, alright, let’s all calm down.” It turned out that Madison had been spreading a rumor that Tess’s award-winning essay was copied from her. Tess demanded an apology; Madison refused, and they got into a shoving match. Ms. Adams tried to smooth things over. “While Madison was certainly out of line, Tess did strike first. How about you both apologize, and we can move on?” I immediately bristled. “Ms. Adams, you can’t look at it that way. If no one had spread lies, would my daughter have hit anyone?” “I didn’t lie! She’s a copycat!” Madison shrieked. “I wrote that story in my journal ages ago! She stole it when she read my journal!” “You’re lying!” Tess shook with anger. “I told you the idea first! You wrote it down later!” Ms. Adams threw up her hands. “See? It’s a ‘he said, she said’ situation. Madison has her journal as evidence. Tess has nothing. Strictly speaking, your daughter is the one in the wrong.” Veronica Sinclair swelled with righteousness. “Exactly! What kind of values can a low-class family like this teach? This school shouldn’t even let poor students in. They ruin the environment!” I scoffed. “I wouldn’t be talking about good character. Judging by her mother, the rotten apple didn’t fall far from the tree.” “You!” Powder flaked off her enraged face. I didn’t back down. I looked her straight in the eye. “My daughter will not apologize. She was defending her honor.” “She is not a copycat.” Just then, the office door opened, and a breathless voice called out. “I agree! I believe Tess Miller would never plagiarize!” 6 It was Tess’s English teacher, Mr. Grant. “I just rushed back from the district conference,” Mr. Grant said, catching his breath. “Tess has always been in the top three for writing. Her work is inspired. A student like her would never stoop to copying someone else’s mundane journal entry.” “That’s what you think,” Veronica sneered, dripping with sarcasm. “Who knows what the family taught her? The apple never falls far from the tree, after all.” I shot back, “Are you introducing yourself?” Even with Mr. Grant’s support, school rules were clear: Tess had struck first and refused to apologize. She was suspended for three days. I didn’t argue. I just took Tess’s hand and walked out the school doors. I took her to the walk-in clinic to get her scratches cleaned, then to a fast-food restaurant and ordered a mountain of food. Tess chewed on a chicken nugget, her eyes welling up. “Mom, I really didn’t copy anything.” “I know you didn’t,” I said, stroking her hair. “You were good friends, you shared ideas. She took advantage of that.” “I trust you.” I gave her a firm look. “If someone throws mud at you, you throw it right back. You did the right thing.” “We’re not going to school for three days. I’m taking you on an adventure.” I called in sick to the school and spent the next three days with Tess. We browsed every bookstore in the city, buying all the books she wanted. We called Scott, and the three of us went to the amusement park and rode all the rides we usually felt too guilty to spend money on. On the day she went back to school, I dropped her off at the gate. “Tess, as long as you know you’re right, stick with it. I will always be your rock.” A week later, the national writing competition was held. Mr. Grant was escorting the team. Before they left, I video-chatted with Tess. “Don’t be nervous. Just do your best. I’ll make you a feast when you get back!” That afternoon, I was at the market picking out a fish when my phone rang. It was an unknown number. “Hello? Is this Brenda Miller? Your daughter is hurt.” “She turned in her test early, climbed to the fourth-floor terrace, and jumped off!” 7 I couldn’t hear anything else the person on the other end was saying. My mind was a chaotic hive of buzzing bees, and a sharp pain erupted behind my temples. I dropped the slippery fish in my hands and ran like a lunatic. The market floor was slick. I fell several times, scraping my knees, but I didn’t feel the blood seeping through my jeans. When I finally reached the hospital, the light above the operating room was a blinding, angry red. Scott was crouched in the corner. A six-foot-tall man, he was huddled in a small ball, hands clutching his head, making a wounded, animalistic sound. When he saw me, he looked up abruptly, his usually smiling eyes webbed with blood vessels. “Honey… our Tess…” His voice was a raw croak. Before he could finish the sentence, tears streamed down his face. My legs gave out. I collapsed onto the floor. “What happened? She was fine this morning! Why would she jump?” Two police officers in uniform walked over. One of them handed me a printed sheet of paper, his voice flat and official. “This was found on the roof terrace. We’ve interviewed the students at the scene. It’s an apparent suicide.” “Suicide?” I snatched the paper. It held a single, cold, printed line: [I did not copy. But I am so tired. Since none of you believe me, I will die to prove it.] “Bullshit!” I crumpled the paper and threw it to the ground. “My daughter has the most beautiful handwriting! She hates typing on a computer! And she told me this morning she wanted my short ribs for dinner! She would never kill herself!” “Ma’am, please calm down…” “Calm down? Are you kidding me?” I screamed hysterically. “What about Madison Sinclair? Who else was on that roof besides my daughter?” The officers exchanged a look of weary helplessness. “The surveillance cameras were non-functional. At the time, your daughter was the only person on the terrace. As for Madison Sinclair, she was confirmed to be in the testing room and has an alibi.” The cameras were non-functional. Again. How could the world be so convenient for the guilty? The operating room door opened. The surgeon took off his mask and shook his head. “We saved her life, but she has severe brain trauma and a fractured spine. Whether she wakes up, we’ll have to wait and see.” In that moment, the sky collapsed. 8 Tess lay in the Intensive Care Unit for three days. I was a puppet with its strings cut, moving mechanically—paying bills, signing forms, staring blankly through the glass window. Scott disappeared. He said he was going for a cigarette and never returned. It wasn’t until noon on the third day that the school security captain called me. “Brenda, you need to get back here! Your husband… he’s been badly beaten! He’s at the school gate!” A deafening roar filled my head. I stumbled back to the school, arriving just as the lunch period ended. A crowd had gathered at the gate. I pushed my way through and saw Scott lying on the asphalt. His two legs were twisted at a gruesome, unnatural angle. His face was covered in blood. He was unconscious. Next to him was a large, black luxury sedan. The window rolled down halfway, revealing a meticulously made-up face. It was Veronica Sinclair, Madison’s mother—the woman from the school office. She held a long, thin cigarette, her eyes coldly contemptuous as they swept over Scott and then landed on me. “Well, look who it is. The cafeteria lady.” She blew out a puff of smoke. “Keep your husband on a shorter leash. He showed up at my husband’s office, threatening him with a wrench. The nerve.” “This was just a lesson—a broken leg. If it happens again…” She gave a cold laugh and rolled up the window. “Drive.” The wheels crushed the gravel, and the car sped away. The students around us were pointing and whispering, but I couldn’t hear a word. I collapsed over Scott, wanting to hold him, but terrified to touch his legs. “Scott! Scott, wake up!” The security captain sighed, helping me call 911. “Brenda, you can’t mess with these people. Her husband is Richard Sinclair, a big real estate developer. They’re connected to the city council, right to the top.” I looked at my husband, barely alive in my arms, and then thought of my daughter in the ICU. A feeling of hatred unlike anything I had ever known slithered into my heart like a viper. Can’t mess with them? The one with nothing has nothing to lose. They destroyed my home. I will make sure they suffer for it.

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While slacking off on the clock, a post of Slack Channel popped up on my phone. [I have a massive crush on the new intern. Problem is, his girlfriend is also an intern here. Advice?] The top comment read: [If he has a girlfriend, back off. Are you seriously considering becoming the office homewrecker?] But the original poster fired back with a long response. [Okay, here’s my deal: I’m thirty, unmarried, and completely financially secure—car, condo, savings. Aside from being eight years older than him, I have his girlfriend beat on pretty much everything else.] [I finally found someone I actually like. Am I really supposed to just walk away?] Immediately, a flood of commenters jumped in to offer advice. [They just graduated, they haven’t faced the real world yet, no stress, no professional rivalry. Stir the pot a little and they’ll break up, guaranteed.] [Support the poster! Go get your man. I agree with the above. Start being overly nice to his girlfriend. That’ll make the guy feel off-balance and guilty. Once a couple starts fighting over work, it’s game over.] [Bonus tip: You’re management. Just block her promotion. Then it’s just you and him left in the company.] I muttered a curse under my breath—seriously, what a psycho—and immediately forgot about the thread. That afternoon, however, the Department Director, Miranda Shaw, called me and my boyfriend into her office. “A major, high-value feature just landed,” she announced. “Whoever lands the exclusive interview for this project gets a guaranteed fast-track to full-time.” Chapter 1 While slacking off on the clock, a Reddit post popped up on my phone. [I have a massive crush on the new intern. Problem is, his girlfriend is also an intern here. Advice?] The top comment read: [If he has a girlfriend, back off. Are you seriously considering becoming the office homewrecker?] But the original poster fired back with a long response. [Okay, here’s my deal: I’m thirty, unmarried, and completely financially secure—car, condo, savings. Aside from being eight years older than him, I have his girlfriend beat on pretty much everything else.] [I finally found someone I actually like. Am I really supposed to just walk away?] Immediately, a flood of commenters jumped in to offer advice. [They just graduated, they haven’t faced the real world yet, no stress, no professional rivalry. Stir the pot a little and they’ll break up, guaranteed.] [Support the poster! Go get your man. I agree with the above. Start being overly nice to his girlfriend. That’ll make the guy feel off-balance and guilty. Once a couple starts fighting over work, it’s game over.] [Bonus tip: You’re management. Just block her promotion. Then it’s just you and him left in the company.] I muttered a curse under my breath—seriously, what a psycho—and immediately forgot about the thread. That afternoon, however, the Department Director, Miranda Shaw, called me and my boyfriend into her office. “A major, high-value feature just landed,” she announced. “Whoever lands the exclusive interview for this project gets a guaranteed fast-track to full-time.” 1 Hearing those words, my stomach tightened. It was probably because of the ridiculous post I’d just read, but I instantly flashed back to the comments. I shook my head a second later, trying to physically jettison the thought. What were the chances of a coincidence that absurd? The world wasn’t a bad romance novel. I heard my boyfriend, Owen Grant, say, “No problem, Miranda.” I quickly chimed in with, “I’m on it.” Miranda nodded, satisfied with our responses, and waved us out. She was nothing like the psycho in the comments. It was just a crazy coincidence. I put the whole thing out of my mind. As soon as we were out of the office, Owen and I made a verbal pact. “No matter who wins, no pouting,” I said, holding out my hand. “And whoever gets the interview, the winner buys dinner to celebrate,” he added, shaking my hand vigorously. We both laughed, a shared, easy sound. We knew when we decided to intern at the same company that there would be competition. But neither of us thought it would ever jeopardize our relationship. For the past month, we’d adapted beautifully. We didn’t have to worry about fitting in, going to work, eating lunch, and leaving together every day. We were a couple, but we were also each other’s primary support system. I’d told him more than once how much I loved our life exactly as it was. Owen had always agreed. That night, though, we didn’t drive home together. We went our separate ways. I figured Owen would take the direct route and try to stake out the CEO’s office. So I decided to go rogue. I tracked down the CEO’s daughter. I’d heard Mr. Brad was completely devoted to her, and I figured leveraging that relationship was my best shot. The conversation went better than expected. Chloe promised she’d talk to her dad for me. My heart full of smug satisfaction, I headed home. When I walked in, I found Owen had already cooked dinner. He looked unusually pleased with himself. My heart did a tiny, nervous flop. Did I get here too late? Just as the thought crossed my mind, Owen walked over. “Babe, guess what? Mr. Brad already agreed to my interview. Looks like you were a step too slow, but don’t look so bummed!” His joy was obvious, but there wasn’t a hint of malice or gloating in it. And he’d cooked all my favorite dishes. I was genuinely happy for him. “Well then, congratulations on the early promotion!” I said, smiling. He stroked my hair and gave me a playful squeeze. “My girl is amazing; you’ll get yours soon enough. And when I get my first real paycheck, it’s all yours.” I nodded, not disappointed in the slightest. In fact, his words made my heart feel warm and sweet. So sweet, in fact, that I completely forgot to follow up with Chloe. I didn’t remember until the next morning. When I got to the office, Miranda Shaw called us both into her office again. I knew she was going to discuss the interview. I was ready for the inevitable professional dressing-down; that’s just how the corporate world works. But I wasn’t ready for what Miranda did next. She walked right up to me. “Lily,” she said, her smile wide and slightly unnerving. “Congratulations. You’ve been assigned the feature interview. Make us proud.” At her words, the happy smiles on both Owen’s and my face instantly froze. 2 I was the first to recover, my surprise giving way to confusion. “Miranda, I think there’s a misunderstanding. Owen secured the interview yesterday!” Owen, now catching up, frowned, though his expression was more confused than angry. “That’s right. Mr. Brad personally agreed to meet with me yesterday afternoon. Did something change?” Miranda looked genuinely surprised, though later I’d realize it was the performance of a lifetime. “That’s impossible,” she said. “Mr. Brad called me early this morning and specifically requested Lily Hayes for the interview.” I frowned, a deep, unsettling premonition sinking in my gut. Before I could speak, Miranda spoke to me in a warm, motherly tone. “Lily, I know you two are a couple, but there’s no need to sacrifice your work for him. You have the talent. Go get it.” Then she turned to Owen, her voice hardening slightly. “Owen, listen to me. Competition is completely normal in the workplace. Don’t worry. You missed this one, but there’ll be others.” Owen nodded, a flicker of disappointment crossing his face. But he still managed, “Of course. Whatever is best for the company.” Miranda smiled, gave a curt nod, and dismissed us. Outside the office, Owen turned to me. “It’s fine, babe. Seriously. You nail the interview and get the experience. Don’t feel any pressure from me.” I nodded absently, a knot still tightening in my stomach. Something felt deeply wrong. Just then, my phone buzzed with a message from Chloe Lin. Ah, this must be it. I immediately typed an apology and started to explain the mix-up, asking her to clarify things with her dad. Instead, she called me. “I can’t believe you!” she practically screamed. “I only helped you because you begged me to talk to my father! You took the interview from your own boyfriend and you’re not celebrating? Stop acting so innocent!” “Don’t ever contact me again!” She hung up, and the messages I sent immediately turned into a single exclamation point. I sighed, bewildered, and turned around. Owen was standing right behind me. He had clearly heard Chloe’s voice over the speaker. His face was a mask of disbelief and rage. I opened my mouth to explain. “Lily Hayes,” he said, his voice shaking. “If you wanted this interview, I would have stepped back without a fight. But setting up this kind of backstabbing scheme? That’s low.” I knew I hadn’t set him up. But I was certain someone had set me up. I was about to explain the situation with Chloe when Miranda’s voice cut in from behind me. “Owen Grant. My office. Now.” Owen didn’t emerge for nearly half an hour. By then, the office was buzzing, and I didn’t get a chance to talk to him. I finally caught up to him during the lunch break. He was already walking out the door. “I have something to do this afternoon,” he said coldly. “I won’t be joining you for lunch.” With that, he walked away. I knew he believed Chloe’s fabricated story. With no chance to explain face-to-face, I sent him a series of detailed texts. He didn’t reply. Not when he came back from lunch, and not by the time we left for the day. The drive home was silent. When we walked into our apartment, I couldn’t hold it in anymore. “Owen, did you see my mess—” I stopped. He had pulled a rolling suitcase out of the closet and was filling it. Panic gripped me. “Owen! What are you doing?” We’d been together since freshman year of college—four years. Was he breaking up with me over this? I grabbed his arm, trying to stop his frantic packing. “Lily, just focus on the interview. I’m going on a quick business trip with Miranda. We’ll talk when I get back,” he said, avoiding my eyes. “We both need a reset.” He pulled his arm free, grabbed the suitcase, and walked out the door. A trip with Miranda? A sudden, horrifying thought surfaced. Against my better judgment, I pulled out my phone, found the post, and clicked on it. The psycho had updated it. 3 [I set them up! Got my old contact to agree to the guy, then flip the interview to the girl. Today, they had a major fight in the break room.] [Just scheduled a business trip with him. Wish me luck, ladies!] Every single detail matched. I finally knew it. The post was Miranda Shaw’s. I couldn’t believe the brazen, professional manipulation. Below the update, the comments were piling up, eager for the next step. I was shaking with anger. My fingers flew across the screen. [This is psychopathic. You’re nothing but a predator.] Miranda replied almost instantly. [It’s called strategic ambition, sweetheart. The ends justify the means. If I can successfully ‘poach’ him, he’ll thank me for upgrading him.] Her logic was sickening, but I had to admit, she had a point—a truly cynical one. But before I could reply again, the trolls came out. Whoa, same IP address! Girlfriend alert! Stop fighting the poster and go get your man back! I knew they only wanted a spectacle. Two seconds later, my comment was deleted. I gritted my teeth, navigated to my contacts, and called Owen. He picked up almost immediately. “Lily, don’t explain. I saw your texts. I know this isn’t your fault! It’s complicated,” he said, his voice back to its old, gentle, reassuring tone. “I’ll bring you back a present when I get home.” Hearing his familiar voice, I felt the knot in my stomach loosen. He’s right. We had four years of history. We had trust. Why was I letting a psycho on a public forum make me doubt him? As Miranda herself had said, if she could truly steal him, then she was only helping me recognize him for what he was. My anger deflated. Still, I couldn’t stop myself from checking the thread. Miranda hadn’t updated, but Owen was texting me constantly, checking in, sending me photos of the city. It was as if our argument and the trip hadn’t even happened. I slowly started to relax. The night before he was due to return, we were on a long video call, the way we always did when we were apart. Then, I heard a knock on his hotel room door. A second later, I heard Miranda’s voice. “Owen, the shower in my room is busted. Can I use yours?” Owen sounded completely nonplussed. “Sure, no problem.” My heart jumped into my throat. I tried to interrupt, to demand he call me back, to say anything. But before I could, Owen abruptly hung up. My good mood evaporated. [Don’t hang up on me! Call me back NOW!] [Owen, I’m serious, I’m getting mad!] My messages went unanswered. I tried calling back, but it went straight to voicemail. After several agonizing minutes, he finally sent a text. [Lily, I’m busy. Talk later.] Busy doing what? What could a man and woman alone in a hotel room possibly be doing? I wanted to trust him. I truly did. But in that moment, I couldn’t. I kept refreshing my phone, waiting for his follow-up call, that promised “talk later.” By 3:00 AM, my heart felt cold and numb. I stopped texting. Instead, I opened the thread. I knew, somehow, it would be there. Miranda’s latest update was waiting for me. [I’ve been trying to initiate physical contact this whole trip. He keeps pulling away, but I can feel that he’s not resistant. We go back tomorrow. I used the ‘busted shower’ excuse to get into his room. Yes, we kissed. I asked him if he’d ever done that with his girlfriend. He said no.] [I asked him if he wanted to try it with me. He got heated, but in the end, he stopped. He said he couldn’t do that to his girlfriend.] [Ladies, what do I do now?] The words stabbed me like needles, leaving me breathless. I told myself Miranda was doing this to torture me, that it wasn’t true. But if it wasn’t true, why hadn’t Owen called? My eyes burned. I knew I was done. I was packing my bag. But before I could say the words, Owen beat me to it. “Lily, I’m putting in my two weeks’ notice.”

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