Category: English

To force my hand, to make me call off our engagement, my fiancé drove my father’s company into the ground, burying it under millions in debt. The shock triggered a heart attack, and my father was rushed into the ICU. As I was on my knees, begging my fiancé for the money to cover the surgery, my childhood friend, Jack Blackwood, suddenly returned from abroad. He arranged for the best doctors for my father and stayed by my side, holding vigil with me day and night. But a week later, my father suffered another, more severe heart attack. To give him peace in his final moments, Jack knelt by the hospital bed and swore he would marry me, that he would take care of me for the rest of his life. After the funeral, my heart a hollowed-out cavern, I broke off the engagement. Instead, I married Jack. Five years later, however, I overheard a conversation between him and my ex-fiancé. “You played a masterstroke, I’ll give you that. You got that clingy leech Renee to let go of me, and she even thanked you for it. Tell me, if she ever found out you were the one who really killed her father, you think she’d want to gut you?” … My hand froze on the private room’s door handle. Inside, my ex-fiancé’s mocking voice continued, dripping with amusement. “You’re a real piece of work, you know that? Renee grew up with you, looked up to you like an older brother. I bet she’d never in a million years guess that the man who bankrupted her father’s company was you.” “If it wasn’t for Ava, I never would’ve taken the fall for you all these years. I may have hated the girl, but I wouldn’t go so far as to stress a man into his grave.” A glass slammed onto the table, and Jack’s voice, thick with drink and fury, cut through the air. “What I owe Renee, I’ll spend a lifetime repaying. I only helped you back then because I wanted Ava to be happy. If you ever betray her, if you make her shed a single tear, I will end you.” The other man just clicked his tongue in mock admiration. “So devoted. A real tragic hero. Too bad she met me first. You just focus on protecting your precious Renee. After all, you killed her father. Better watch your back for when his ghost comes calling in the middle of the night.” CRASH! A glass shattered against the door, fragments exploding everywhere. Footsteps rushed towards the door. I took a sharp breath and fled, my feet carrying me down to the bar on the ground floor. I grabbed a drink and downed it in one go. The burn of the alcohol, something I never touched, brought tears streaming from my eyes. His words echoed in my mind, a torturous loop. It wasn’t my fiancé who had ruined my father. It was Jack—the same man who had paid for his surgery. And that second heart attack, the one that took my father a week later… it must have been because of something Jack said. No wonder Dad had stared so intently at Jack as he took his last breath. I had been so naive, thinking it was a look of gratitude, of entrusting me to him. The man who had shared my bed for five years, the husband who’d held me in the palm of his hand like I was something precious… was the monster who had indirectly killed my father. And our marriage, this five-year performance of love, was nothing but a long, drawn-out act of penance for his guilt. The absurdity of it all was a bitter pill to swallow. Grief and rage churned inside me like a storm. Just as my gaze fell on another glass, a pair of arms wrapped around me from behind. Jack buried his face in the crook of my neck, his voice, soft with alcohol, a tender whisper. “Renee, where did you go? I missed you… Let’s go home. I love you, Renee… I love you so, so much…” For years, this was his ritual. Every time he drank, he would murmur these words of love. His friends always said it was the truth coming out, that he was utterly devoted to me. Now, it was all a grotesque joke. I calmly pushed him away and helped him into the car. Jack’s head came to rest on my lap, his brow smoothed in sleep, his breathing even. “Ava… Ava… Why wasn’t it me? Why…” This time, I heard it clearly. The name that haunted his dreams. Ava. Ava Sterling. The woman who had stolen my fiancé. Jack’s one true love, the one that got away. He had never forgotten her. He had married me, played the part of a doting husband, all while his heart belonged to another. I had underestimated the depths of his love for her. With a thud, his phone slipped from his pocket. I bent to pick it up, the screen lighting up with a new message. “Jack, thank you for covering for me with the drinks tonight. I can’t accept the necklace, it’s far too much.” A second later, I saw Ava’s new Instagram story: “Love is priceless.” The picture was of a breathtakingly brilliant necklace, the very one reported in the news as being sold to a mysterious billionaire for a hundred million dollars—a one-of-a-kind piece. She posted it for me. I knew it. Just this week, Jack had been so busy he’d skipped meals, landing himself in the emergency room with stomach pains. The moment he was discharged, he flew to England. At the time, I was both furious and worried, thinking he was killing himself for his work. Now I knew the truth. He went to an auction. He went, even while doubled over in pain, to buy the most precious necklace in the world and lay it at the feet of his goddess. Some impulse I couldn’t control made me type in the screen lock password. The last digit went in. The phone unlocked. It was Ava’s birthday. Jack had never let me touch his phone, always saying they needed to respect each other’s personal space. As the screen came to life, Ava’s radiant smile filled my vision. No wonder his expression always softened whenever he unlocked his phone. I opened his photo gallery. It was a sea of neatly organized albums. [Ava, Age 10] [Ava, Age 11]… [Ava, Age 25] Each album was a chronicle of her smiles through the years. Among the thousands of photos, not a single one was of me. Not even of himself. Only Ava. Just like his heart. From the beginning, it had only ever been Ava. What dark secrets did Jack’s diary hold? And how would Renee cope with the full, devastating truth of his betrayal? Continue reading to find out. I opened the notes app. It was his diary. [Date, Sunny. Ava scratched her leg on a branch today. It’s my fault. I never should have planted those rose bushes in the yard.] [Date, Sunny. Ava got married today. As long as she’s happy, anything I do is worth it. My only purpose in life is to see her smile.] [Date, Rainy. I got married. When I saw Ava in the crowd, all I could wish for was that she was the one standing beside me.] The car pulled into our driveway. I looked up at the barren yard, and a chill seeped into my bones. There used to be two magnificent peach trees in that yard. Jack had transplanted them from my family’s old estate, a gift from my father who had planted them for me on my tenth birthday. Whenever I looked at them, I felt like my father was still with me, that he had never left. Then one day, the trees, once heavy with fruit, simply withered. Their roots had mysteriously rotted away. Jack had held me for three days and nights as I cried, comforting me. Now I knew. It was him. He had also destroyed the last living memory my father had left me. A message from his assistant popped up on the screen. [Mr. Blackwood, per your instructions, the final draft of your will is complete. All assets are to be left to Ms. Ava Sterling.] [It just needs your signature to be executed.] Through a blur of tears, I saw him. The man at the funeral, holding me, his voice thick with emotion as he made his promise. “Renee, I will give you a home. Everything I have will be yours.” After putting Jack to bed, I didn’t bother with my usual routine of taking off his shoes and caring for him. I turned and went straight to the guest room. I closed my eyes, but all I could see were flashes of his “love” for me over the past five years. The next morning, sunlight streamed in, and I opened my eyes to find Jack gazing at me, his expression tender. He leaned in and placed a soft kiss on my forehead. “Renee, were you upset with me last night? I’m sorry, I had too much to drink at the event. I promise it won’t happen again.” His gentle demeanor was just as it had always been. I just hummed in response, pushed him away, and went into the bathroom to wash the lingering warmth of his kiss from my skin. The breakfast table was laden with food. In the past, this would have filled me with joy. But after reading his diary, I couldn’t feel anything but disgust. Every single dish was one of Ava’s favorites. The sound of a key in the front door lock turned, and Ava walked in, dressed in a pristine white dress. She moved through our home as if she owned it, taking a seat at the table. She offered me a faint smile. “Sorry to intrude, Renee. Jack and I have a photoshoot this morning, so he invited me over for breakfast.” I said nothing, my eyes fixed on the key fob in her hand—an exact replica of my own. Jack, ever perceptive, noticed my mood and leaned in to whisper an explanation. “Ava’s our best friend, Renee. It’s normal for her to have a key to our place…” He didn’t finish. His voice shifted, and he shot up from his seat, snatching the glass of soy milk from Ava’s hand. “Ava, you can’t have soy milk! How can you still forget after all these years?” Ava pursed her lips into a coy smile. “That’s right. I’m so lucky to have you around to remember for me.” They stared at each other, lost in a look that spoke of years of shared history, like two lovers caught in a private moment. I had no interest in watching their display. As I was about to leave, Ava’s voice stopped me. “Renee, I remember you studied photography. Could you shoot for me today? I don’t really trust the new photographer.” I hadn’t touched a camera since my father died. The moment I held one, all I could see was him, the man who taught me everything about photography, his face pale and defeated in his final moments. I couldn’t bring myself to press the shutter button again. Jack knew this. He had locked all my cameras away, telling me not to force it, that he would be there for me until I was ready. But now, before I could even answer, he was pushing me towards the back seat of the car. “Renee, you know Ava gets carsick. You’ll have to sit in the back.” But he had forgotten that my motion sickness was far worse. Having barely touched my breakfast, my stomach churned violently the entire ride. When we arrived, Jack carefully fussed over Ava’s dress, bending down to help her into the studio. I leaned against the car, gasping for fresh air. “Renee, the shoot is about to start,” Jack said, his voice firm as he grabbed my arm and pulled me inside. “Stop being difficult and do a good job. This is important for Ava and for Blackwood Enterprises.” I stumbled, nearly falling to the floor. Holding a camera after five years felt both foreign and terrifying. My hands trembled. I fought back the wave of grief and forced myself to press the shutter, again and again. During a break, when it was just Ava and me in the studio, she flicked through the photos on the camera, a smirk playing on her lips. “You’re just as useless as your father was, Renee. Can’t do anything right.” Her words twisted in my gut. “Like father, like daughter, I suppose.” My nails dug into my palms, my body trembling with a rage I could barely contain. SLAP! A sharp, stinging pain exploded across my cheek. Ava shook her hand, looking down at me with utter contempt. “You’re so shameless, Renee. After being dumped, you immediately latched onto Jack. What makes you think you’re worthy of him? Let me make one thing clear: whether it was your ex or Jack, they were always mine.” “You don’t deserve him.” My head was still turned from the force of the blow. Before I could process what happened, Ava grabbed my hand, swung it at her own face, and then collapsed gracefully to the floor. Clutching her cheek, her eyes filled with tears, she was the very picture of a damsel in distress—a complete transformation from the venomous woman of a moment ago. “Renee, I wasn’t criticizing your work… I just wanted to ask if you could try a different angle… If you didn’t want to, you could have just said so…” The studio door opened. The water glass in Jack’s hand fell to the floor. He rushed past me, kneeling to anxiously check on Ava. “Jack, I’m fine, really. Please don’t blame Renee. It wasn’t her fault, I just lost my balance.” “Ava, you’re too kind,” Jack said, carefully helping her to her feet, his touch as gentle as if she were made of porcelain. “You don’t have to cover for her. I saw what happened with my own eyes!” He pulled her into his arms, his face a mask of fury as he turned to me. It was the first time in our five years of marriage that he had ever looked at me with such anger. “Renee, apologize to Ava! I’ve been too easy on you these past five years! I’ve spoiled you into a venomous shrew!” “You know how important her face is to her career!” He glared at me, his rage so blinding that he didn’t seem to see the red, swollen handprint on my own cheek. I lifted my chin, my gaze meeting his, my voice eerily calm. “The one who should be apologizing is Ava, not me. She brought up my father. And speaking of my father, Jack… is there nothing you feel you need to apologize for?” A flicker of shock crossed his eyes, gone in an instant. “If it weren’t for me back then, Dad would have been gone even sooner. Renee, I promised him I would take care of you for the rest of my life, but that promise was conditional on you not hurting Ava.” A bitter, self-mocking laugh escaped my lips. I should have known better than to expect anything from him. The world suddenly went dark, and I felt myself falling backward into unconsciousness.

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I am a master of traditional medicine, a healer so revered that Aaron Croft, the most eligible bachelor in the country, knelt at my door, begging for my help. Yet his childhood sweetheart called me a gold digger. She slapped me, accused me of carrying another man’s child, and had her friends pelt my stomach with stones. As I lay bleeding, she poked my head, her laughter deceptively innocent. “You just had to go after my Aaron. Who else was I supposed to teach a lesson to?” But later, it was she who knelt before me, begging for her life. 1 My family’s healing arts are an ancient lineage, and I am known as its greatest living master. The rich and powerful offer me fortunes for my services—power, status, wealth, all of it is mine for the taking if I so choose. Aaron Croft, the man they call the nation’s most desirable husband, made a pilgrimage to my mountain home, kneeling every few steps of the way, to plead with me to save his grandfather. His devotion moved me. I agreed, but on two conditions. First, my involvement was to be kept a complete secret. Second, I would receive fifty percent of the Croft family’s corporate shares. The terms were steep, but Aaron accepted without hesitation. He knew that if his grandfather died, the vast Croft empire would be torn apart by vultures. With my help, the old man could live for a few more years, and my name alone would be enough to deter those circling sharks. This way, Aaron could remain the prince of his dynasty, instead of a beggar on the street. On the journey down the mountain, Aaron was the picture of deference, bowing and scraping, all traces of his usual arrogance gone. He prepared the family’s finest riverside villa for me, dismissed all the staff, and posted a discreet security detail at the outermost perimeter. Aside from close family visiting his grandfather, no one else was to be admitted. I was satisfied with the arrangements. After dismissing him, I began the long, delicate process of treating his grandfather, fighting to keep the old man’s life tethered to this world. Aaron visited daily. As his grandfather’s health improved, the long-absent smile returned to Aaron’s face, and his reverence for me deepened. I never expected that, despite his meticulous precautions, the villa would be breached. And by a pack of shrill, vulgar women. They started their tirade at the gate, their voices shattering the morning calm. “Where did this little country tramp come from, trying to seduce my Aaron?” “Bella, darling, everyone in this city knows you’re Aaron’s girl, the future Mrs. Croft! This bitch is deliberately provoking you by moving in on your man!” “Exactly! You and Aaron are meant to be. Some brainless slut tries to steal him, you have to put her in her place.” I was about to have security remove them when— CRACK. A sharp, stinging slap landed on my cheek. “You little whore. We hadn’t even come in, and you dare to show your face!” 2 The blow left me stunned, my head ringing. When my vision cleared, a beautiful young woman in a designer dress was sneering at me. “Look at you, dressed like some hayseed. A creature like you thinks you can compete with me?” “So young and already a conniving little witch, playing the innocent to trap a rich man. It’s sluts like you who give women a bad name…” Their vicious insults rained down on me. Whore. Gold digger. It finally dawned on me that they were talking about… me. Gold digger? If I wanted money, I wouldn’t need to “dig” for it. It was the first time in my life I had ever been struck, ever been verbally assaulted. Fury rose in me. “Shut your filthy mouths,” I shot back. “I am here at Aaron’s…” Before I could finish, the woman they called Bella, the center of their little universe, kicked me hard in the stomach. “Insolent! Who do you think you are? You dare to even speak his name?” I staggered back, the pain doubling me over as I clutched my abdomen. One of the others saw my posture. “She’s protecting her stomach like that… could she be…” Bella’s eyes narrowed, her gaze fixed on my belly. She delivered another vicious kick. The pain was blinding. Though I lived in seclusion, I knew of the powerful Croft family, and I had heard the name Bella Vance. She was the city’s reigning socialite, Aaron’s childhood friend. She had parlayed her beauty and connections into a film career, becoming a top star despite a complete lack of talent, thanks to the vast sums of money the Croft and Vance families poured into her projects. She was infamous for her arrogance, once publicly declaring that all other actresses were trash, there only to make her look better by comparison. After all, she had a pretty face and Aaron Croft doting on her. Any woman who was even rumored to be close to Aaron would mysteriously disappear from the social scene. I had always thought the stories were exaggerated. The age of empresses was long over; who could possibly be so tyrannical? But looking at Bella now, kicking me, slandering me, her eyes filled with a murderous rage, I realized the rumors had been far too conservative. I clutched my stomach, my brow furrowed in pain. “I suggest you find out who I am before you continue. This is not your playground.” Bella threw her head back and laughed. “I’m going to marry Aaron. The Croft estate is as good as mine! Why can’t I do as I please here?” She sneered. “You think you can hide away in here, secretly pregnant, and I can’t touch you?” Her lackeys chimed in. “These women today are so devious.” “They’re all trying to get a ring by getting pregnant first. You can’t be too careful.” “Imagine, this little bastard gets born, she creates a media scandal, uses it to trash your reputation… even if she doesn’t marry into the family, she’ll be set for life!” Their minds, poisoned by jealousy, were truly fertile with delusion. In a few short sentences, they had painted me as a villain more wicked than any in the tabloids. My chest heaved with anger. “Get out!” I roared. Bella’s eyes narrowed into a sly smile. “What’s wrong? Did we hit a nerve? Feeling guilty and trying to chase us away? You think you have the right?” She raised a hand, admiring her freshly manicured nails. “Ladies,” she said, her voice sweet as poison, “let’s teach this animal some manners.” At her command, her friends exchanged knowing glances and swarmed me. I tried to run, but one of them grabbed me by the hair. It was eight against one. I was on the ground in seconds. I curled into a ball, trying to protect my head as the blows rained down. “Stop!” I yelled through the pain. “I am Dr. Reed, the healer who is treating Mr. Croft!” 3 The name “Dr. Reed” carried as much weight in this city as Aaron’s own. The first time I had come down from the mountain with my grandmother, I had saved a diamond tycoon who had been declared brain-dead. My words gave them pause. The beating stopped. Bella’s smile froze. She stared at me. “You… you said you’re Dr. Reed?” “You’d better call Aaron and ask him,” I said, my body aching, but my voice firm. “Ask him if I am the healer he knelt and begged to come down from the mountain, or the gold digger you think is trying to steal your man.” I thought that would be the end of it. “Oh, the famous Dr. Reed! I’m so scared!” Bella clutched her chest in mock terror, then burst out laughing. When her laughter died, she stomped on my hand, grinding her heel into my fingers. Her face was a mask of rage. “You’ll even make up a lie like that to protect the bastard in your belly. If my own grandfather hadn’t just been saved by Dr. Reed, if he hadn’t told me that she was a gray-haired old woman, I might have almost believed you. It seems you’re not just stupid enough to go after my man, you’re also shameless enough to use a respected healer’s name to run your scams.” Her friends, their fears allayed, descended on me again. I could see the jealousy had blinded Bella. “Is that so? Then you had better call your elders and ask them what I look like!” The word “elders” seemed to trigger her. “You want me to call them so you can tattle on me? Don’t worry. After I’m done with you, I’ll give them a full report on the kind of slut you are. You like seducing men? Let’s see how everyone likes the sight of you naked.” They were clearly practiced at this. At Bella’s word, they rushed forward. I screamed for them to call and verify my identity, but they wouldn’t listen. Their assault only intensified. My cries for help were useless. In the struggle, my case of silver needles fell from my clothes. Bella stopped filming and picked it up. “A con artist who does her homework,” she sneered. “You even have a set of needles, just like the real Dr. Reed. You like playing doctor? Fine. I’ll give you a treatment.” With a vicious smile, she pulled out a needle and plunged it deep into my fingernail. I screamed, a wave of pure panic washing over me. These hands, these hands that healed the sick and saved the dying, could not be destroyed by this… this imbecile. “If you won’t call, then let me!” I roared. But Bella ignored me. She ordered her friends to do the same. One by one, they drove the needles into my fingers. The pain was excruciating. My screams echoed through the villa, but they did not stop. In just five minutes, my clothes were in tatters, my hands a bloody, mangled mess. Bella looked at the video on her phone with satisfaction. “This is what happens when you seduce other women’s men. If you bitches would just learn your place, there would be more happy couples in the world.” The others nodded and laughed, a chorus of cruel delight. My hands trembled with rage. I bit my lip until it bled. My eyes were crimson. “You will all regret this!” I seared their ugly, gloating faces into my memory. Not a single one of them would escape. I would repay them for this, ten times over. Bella strolled over, grabbed me by the hair, and twisted my neck at an unnatural angle. “The word ‘regret’ is not in my vocabulary,” she hissed into my eyes. “Threatening me? That deserves another punishment.” 4 At Bella’s command, they dragged me out of the villa. My body left a trail of blood on the cobblestone path. They threw me into a rose garden, my near-naked body scratched and torn by the thorns. As I was about to pass out from the pain, they doused me with a bucket of filthy water. Bella continued to film, laughing. I tried to cover myself. “Tsk, tsk,” she clucked. “You have a sense of shame? A gold digger, pretending to be a pure, innocent maiden? If you’re not afraid to seduce a man, why are you afraid of being seen?” She ordered them to press the rose thorns deeper into my skin. “You like being a thorny rose to lure men? I’ll help you with that.” I was bleeding, in agony. I coughed up a mouthful of blood.

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The day of my wedding, my sister decided to fly home. Just like that. And just like that, my parents, my brother, and my fiancé all abandoned me—left me standing alone in my wedding dress—to go pick her up from the airport. While my sister, Luna, posted a beaming group photo to her Instagram story, bragging about how loved she was, my frantic calls went straight to voicemail, each one a silent scream into the void. The only person who answered was Caleb, my fiancé. He had one thing to say before hanging up: “Stop making a scene. We can always have another wedding.” They turned me into a clown at my own long-awaited ceremony, a spectacle of pity and ridicule for every guest to whisper about. I handled everything that followed with a calm I didn’t know I possessed. Then, I went home, opened my journal, and wrote down a new number: 99. It was the ninety-ninth time they had broken my heart. It would also be the last time I ever asked for their love. I’d already filled out my application for the research program abroad and packed my bags. They thought I’d finally learned to be quiet and obedient. They had no idea I was just getting ready to leave. … The door to my room was thrown open without a knock. My brother, Leo, strode in. He saw me staring blankly at my journal and let out a scoff. “Aren’t you a little old for that? Still writing in a diary like a schoolgirl?” Normally, I would’ve shot back a sarcastic reply. This time, I didn’t even look up. My silence seemed to irritate him. Leo ran a hand through his hair in frustration, then snatched the journal from my desk. He glanced at the open page. All it said was a single number: 99. The tally of their disappointments over the years. He couldn’t make sense of it. Frowning, he tossed the journal onto the floor. “Forget this nonsense. Luna’s craving your garlic butter shrimp scampi. Get downstairs and make it for her.” He added, “Consider it your apology for that snide little comment you left on her post today.” “Okay,” I said, my voice flat. I rose from my chair and headed for the door. Leo was clearly taken aback by my lack of protest. In the past, whenever they’d demanded I cook for Luna, I’d always put up a fight, crying as if I’d suffered the world’s greatest injustice. Why was I so quiet now? “What’s with you, Stella? Did you have a personality transplant? Or are you planning to put something in the food?” He eyed me suspiciously, trying to read the devious plot he imagined was brewing behind my eyes. His gaze fell to my slightly reddened, puffy eyelids. For a moment, he actually shut his mouth. After a long pause, he tried again, his voice softer. “Look, Luna’s been abroad for a whole year. It’s the first time she’s been back. We were just excited to see her. You should try to understand.” “It was just a wedding,” he added, as if that explained everything. “We can always throw another one for you later, can’t we?” I said nothing, pulling the shrimp from the refrigerator and beginning to rinse them under the cold tap. Just a wedding. Yes, of course. In their world, nothing could ever be more important than welcoming Luna home. Not even the wedding I had dreamed of for so long. The gown, a gorgeous couture piece, was one I’d saved for months to rent. The venue, the flowers, the music—I had spent over half a year meticulously planning every single detail with the wedding coordinator. They had seen it all. They’d watched my excitement build, day by day. And in the end, the people closest to me, my own family, were the ones who made me a laughingstock. The bride whose family was a no-show. The bride whose groom never appeared. While Luna was flaunting her airport welcome wagon on social media, I was facing a room full of mocking stares and pitying glances, cleaning up the mess of my shattered dream all by myself. Even the hotel staff, seeing my pale, tear-streaked face, had told me to go home and rest, their eyes full of sympathy. But the first thing my family did when they got home was to order me into the kitchen. A bitter, humorless smile touched my lips. I’d been planning to turn down my mentor’s offer for the prestigious research program abroad. With my parents getting older, Leo busy with his career, and my own wedding, it had seemed like the right thing to do. Now, I knew leaving was the only right decision. It was a shame the application took time to process. I still had two more weeks to endure. I pushed past Leo. “Excuse me. You’re in my way.” My coldness was like a punch landing on a pillow. He looked helpless. Just as he was about to say something else, the little princess in the living room called out to him. “Leo! I can’t get this chestnut open!” Instantly, his focus shifted. “Don’t even try, Luna! You’ll hurt your hands,” he called back, rushing to her side. “You’re going to be a concert pianist! Let me do it for you!” The buzzing fly had finally left the kitchen. I glanced down at my own hands. The fingers, once slender, were now red and swollen from an allergic reaction to the shellfish I was handling. After placing the platter of shrimp on the dining table, I took in the scene in the living room. The atmosphere was disgustingly cheerful. My father, a man perpetually “too busy” with his business, was now sitting attentively, listening to his youngest daughter’s tales of her adventures abroad. My mother held Luna in a tight embrace, her eyes filled with concern, cooing about how much weight she’d lost, how hard it must have been for her all alone out there. And Leo sat beside them, diligently peeling chestnuts for his darling sister. I stood there, a silent observer of this picture-perfect family moment. The dining room and the living room felt like two separate worlds, a stark line drawn between them. One thrummed with warmth and laughter; the other was steeped in cold, lonely silence. “Stella, why are you just hiding over there?” Luna’s voice, sickly sweet and laced with faux innocence, cut through the air. The three of them finally turned their attention to me. My father’s brow furrowed instinctively. “Who are you trying to scare with that long face? Get over here!” My mother’s face hardened with impatience. “This whole wedding fiasco is your own fault for picking a bad date. It has nothing to do with Luna.” Then, the ultimatum. “If you dare hold a grudge against your sister, don’t you ever call me ‘Mom’ again!” Luna pouted, leaning into Mom’s shoulder. “Oh, Mommy, don’t say that. You’ll make Stella sad.” But as she spoke, a gleam of triumph in her eyes betrayed her. I knew she was far from innocent. I had texted her the wedding date a full week in advance. She’d seen the message. She’d even replied, promising me a “surprise.” And what a surprise it was. This was her favorite game, a little drama she’d been directing since we were children: forcing our family to choose. I was never the one they chose. Not my parents. Not my brother. And now, not even the man who was supposed to spend the rest of his life with me. I should have been devastated. But maybe I was just numb. Hearing their words now, I felt nothing but a quiet emptiness. “I’m not angry.” The three words hung in the air. Every one of them stared at me, shocked. Not angry? How could that be possible? I watched their expressions, a deep, cutting irony settling in my chest. See? They knew what they did was wrong. They knew it was hurtful. Yet they did it anyway, and then had the audacity to blame me for my own pain. My sudden calm was more unsettling to them than any of my past hysterics. After a moment of tense silence, my father spoke. “Good. As long as you’re not angry. We’re family. Don’t be so petty.” “Yes, I know.” I nodded obediently. Seeing that I genuinely didn’t seem to be holding it against them, they visibly relaxed and drew Luna towards the dinner table. Besides the shrimp I’d made, the table was laden with a feast of seafood prepared by our housekeeper—all of Luna’s favorites. “You’re too thin, sweetie. You need to eat up,” Mom and Dad fussed, their chopsticks relentlessly piling food onto Luna’s plate until it was a small mountain. She just smiled, basking in the attention, and continued to boast about her studies abroad. She claimed she’d already secured a spot in a prestigious orchestra and would be performing soon. Mom, Dad, and Leo hung on her every word, showering her with praise. I just quietly ate my rice. My silence must have finally pricked at my mother’s conscience. She seemed to remember the grievance I’d suffered. A single shrimp was dropped into my bowl. I looked up. Her expression was awkward, forced. “There, eat. Don’t always think we favor Luna. See? I saved one for you.” I stared at the shrimp for a long moment, then set down my bowl. “No, thank you. I’m full.” Her face fell, a flash of anger in her eyes. “What is wrong with you, child?” Before she could continue her scolding, Luna, sitting beside her, suddenly clutched her throat, her face paling. “Mom… I… I can’t breathe!” In an instant, my parents and Leo were swarming around her. They saw the red welts breaking out on her skin and panic set in. “It’s an allergic reaction! How could this happen?” My mother’s frantic gaze swept the room and landed on me. The next second, a sharp crack echoed through the room as her hand connected with my cheek. The force sent me stumbling, and I fell to the floor, my head ringing. “Stella, what did you put in the food? Don’t you remember what your sister is allergic to?” Leo stared down at me, his face a mask of disgust. “I knew you were too quiet. You were plotting to hurt Luna all along! How could I have a sister as venomous as you?” “Enough! Stop yelling! Let’s get Luna to the hospital, now!” my father roared. Only then did my mother and brother tear their hateful glares away from me. The family rushed out, leaving me alone on the cold floor, one hand pressed to my throbbing, swollen cheek. I didn’t do it. The words were stuck in my throat. I wanted to scream them. But this scene had played out too many times before. I knew, with absolute certainty, that even if I said it, they wouldn’t believe me. So be it. The housekeeper, hearing the commotion, hurried in and tried to help me up. She gasped when she saw my hands. “Miss Stella, your hands! They’re so swollen!” “I’m fine,” I said, shrugging off her kindness. I pushed myself to my feet and walked back upstairs to my room. As I picked up the journal from the floor, a flood of memories washed over me. When I was eight, our family didn’t have much money. All five of us were crammed into a tiny, rundown house. My parents worked tirelessly, and with three kids to look after, they were stretched to their breaking point. They decided to send one of us to live with our grandparents in the country. Leo was about to start high school, a crucial time. Luna was too young and frail; they couldn’t bear to part with her. I didn’t want to see my parents so worried, so I raised my hand. I volunteered. Before I left, my mother stroked my hair and called me her most sensible, understanding child. What no one told me was that the price of being “sensible” was eight years of exile. For eight years, I only saw my parents, my brother, and my sister at Christmas. Year after year, I watched them in photographs, their clothes growing finer, their smiles wider. I knew our family’s fortune had changed. I waited and waited for them to bring me home. I waited until I went from a little girl to a teenager, until my beloved grandparents had both passed away. Only then did the car finally come for me. The tiny, shabby house of my memory was gone, replaced by a three-story villa. The room they gave me was on the first floor, tucked away in the darkest corner. It had none of the books and gaming consoles that filled Leo’s room, nor any of the whimsical, fairy-tale decorations in Luna’s. It was a perfect reflection of my place in this family: an afterthought, easily ignored. I packed the few belongings I had into my suitcase. The leave of absence I’d arranged with my mentor for the wedding was no longer needed. I was about to call him to say I’d be back in the lab tomorrow when my phone rang. It was Caleb. My fiancé. I assumed he was calling to discuss the wedding fallout. I was wrong. The moment I answered, he unleashed a torrent of accusations. “Stella, what did you do to Luna? Why is she in the hospital?” The man I knew as calm and collected had now lost his composure twice in one day. The first time was when he heard Luna was coming home. The second was now. And the most bitter irony of all was that he was supposed to be my fiancé.

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After my family went bankrupt, I was sent back to my birth parents. When my new CEO brother saw my bright pink hair, the prayer beads he was holding scattered across the floor. “Are you here to collect protection money?” I blew a loud whistle, rolled up my sleeves, and revealed a temporary tattoo of a snarling wolf on one arm and a coiled serpent on the other. “Hey, man! My family’s broke. Spot me some cash, will ya?” My parents, who had cut their vacation short to race back, saw my nose ring and their faces went slack with horror. “Dear God! How did our daughter become a delinquent?” 1 My family went bankrupt because a rival sabotaged one of our contracts. The day the court seized our assets, my parents sat me down and told me, with grim faces, that I had been found in a dumpster and that my real parents had finally been located. They’d told me this a thousand times before, but I always thought it was a joke. After all, they also claimed my brother was a prize from a claw machine and my sister came free with a bulk purchase of scrap metal. It wasn’t until they dropped me off at my birth parents’ front door that I realized they were serious. My brother, Cole, clung to my hand, unwilling to let go. “It all makes sense now. My last name is Fisher, and our little sister’s is Finn, but yours is Crane. We’re not even the same species.” My younger sister, Coralie, looked at me with grave solemnity. “Don’t forget us when you’re rich.” Without a second’s hesitation, they abandoned me and sped off. I stood before a mansion at least ten times larger than our old apartment, completely bewildered. If I wasn’t mistaken, this was the Sterling estate. The Sterlings owned a multinational corporation worth billions. I never thought a family this wealthy would be so old-fashioned as to dump a baby girl in the trash just because of her gender. Tsk. I popped a piece of bubblegum into my mouth and glanced down at my outfit: ripped jeans, a skull-print t-shirt, hair bleached and dyed a shocking shade of neon pink, and a nose ring that glinted in the sunlight. I rang the doorbell. No answer. I tried again. Still nothing. I squatted down, ready to wait it out, and pulled out my phone to call my adoptive mom, hoping she might take me back for a little while. Just then, the door swung open. A ridiculously tall man in a bespoke black suit appeared before me. He was fiddling with a string of expensive-looking prayer beads, his features so sharp and defined they could have been carved from marble. The moment he saw me, the prayer beads clattered to the floor. Well, hello there. Wasn’t this the classic brooding, spiritual CEO from a romance novel? I was seeing one in the flesh! I’d heard these types were obsessed with their beads—fiddling with them while eating, sleeping, even on the toilet. They never stopped. And they were supposedly more cunning than a fox in a hen house. “Are you… here to collect protection money?” Asher Sterling’s voice was deep, laced with a mixture of confusion and shock. I blew a loud whistle, inflated a bubble with my gum, and let it pop with a satisfying snap. Then I rolled up my sleeves to show off the temporary tattoos I’d applied yesterday: a snarling wolf on my left arm, a coiled serpent on my right. “Hey, man! My family’s broke. Spot me some cash, will ya?” I said, affecting the most thuggish tone I could manage, and gave him a wink. His expression was thunderstruck, his lips moving silently as if reciting a prayer. “Ash, who is it?” A small, childish voice called from inside, breaking our staring contest. Ash? My eyes lit up again. Another classic trope. If there’s a long-lost daughter, there must be a replacement daughter. The replacement is always showered with love, while the real one is portrayed as vicious and stupid, destined for a tragic end. I narrowed my eyes, ready for a fight. But when the owner of the voice bounced into view, my jaw nearly hit the floor. This was the replacement daughter? I stared at the little girl in a pink tutu, her hair in two tiny pigtails. My brain short-circuited. She couldn’t be more than five. Lily Sterling was studying me with wide, curious eyes. She was way too young to be the evil replacement. Did that mean there was another one hidden inside? “Big sister? Ash, is this our big sister?” she asked, her eyes wide with astonishment. The atmosphere turned decidedly strange. 2 I decided to strike first. I pulled a crumpled piece of paper from my pocket and slapped it against Asher’s chest. “I’m not a fraud, you know!” Asher had completely forgotten about his fallen prayer beads. His face changed the instant he saw the paternity test. It clearly stated a 99.9% probability of a father-daughter relationship between me and Mr. Sterling. I had no idea my adoptive mom had done this behind my back, only stuffing it into my hand as she sent me on my way. I crossed my arms. “How about you just give me a lump sum? A severance package. I promise I’ll never show my face to you people again. My lips will be sealed.” Asher’s expression looked like he’d been punched. He slowly folded the report, his voice low. “No.” I blinked. What did he mean, no? No money? Was he that cheap? The Sterlings were supposed to be loaded. A little bit scraped from under their fingernails would be enough for me to pay off my adoptive parents’ debts. “A Sterling daughter cannot be left to fend for herself,” he said, his eyes turning a little red. “You were taken and abandoned by a nanny. A nanny who was hired by our rivals.” “Dad got into a car accident looking for you and was laid up for half a year. Mom almost… she almost didn’t make it. The company was on the verge of collapse.” He wasn’t the one who abandoned me? And their rivals were so vicious they’d resort to kidnapping a child? Not only did Asher refuse to let me leave, he immediately called his parents, who were on vacation abroad. He had the butler take me to my room to drop off my luggage. I wanted to refuse, but I couldn’t think of a reason. The second-floor hallway was long, lined with doors. The butler stopped at the very last one. “This is your room, Miss Nora.” I pushed the door open and my eyes went wide. This wasn’t a room; it was a princess’s chamber. The entire space was lavishly and exquisitely decorated. In the corner, a mountain of gift-wrapped boxes was piled from floor to ceiling. My worn-out backpack looked completely out of place. “Is… is this a mistake?” My throat felt tight. “The madam decorated this for you herself. It’s redecorated every year according to your age.” Every year? A jolt went through me. So, even though I was gone, they remembered me? Lily had appeared behind me at some point, clutching a stuffed bunny. She pointed to the mountain of gifts. “Mommy buys lots and lots of presents for you on your birthday every year. Even though you’re not here, I help you blow out the candles!” “You’re… you’re saying all of this is for me?” “Yep!” she nodded enthusiastically. “Mommy says you’ll come home one day, so we have to make up for all the missed birthdays!” A sudden tightness seized my chest, as if I’d been sucker-punched. They had really been looking for me all these years? “Lily. Tell me the truth. Is there… is there an adopted older sister in this house?” Lily blinked her big eyes. “An adopted sister?” “I mean…” I chose my words carefully. “While I was gone, did Mom and Dad adopt another girl to take my place?” Lily’s expression turned to one of pure confusion. “Mommy and Daddy do a lot of charity work, but why would they adopt another daughter?” I was stunned. No replacement? How could there be no replacement daughter? Then who was my enemy? Isn’t that how all the stories go? The real daughter returns, and the fake one starts causing trouble. 3 My phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out to see a dozen new messages in our family group chat. I opened it. The latest message was from Coralie: [@Nora Have you met the fake daughter yet? Remember, don’t be like those evil characters in novels. We’re modern, independent women!] I couldn’t help but laugh. That girl watched way too much TV. Cole followed up with a rolling-eyes emoji: [@Nora If you can’t make it there, just come back. We’re having pickles for dinner tonight. You won’t starve.] Then he tagged our adoptive parents: [@Dad @Mom When are you going to take me and Coralie for a paternity test? We want to experience the rich life too.] I was about to reply when my mom sent a voice message. I tapped it, and her booming voice filled the hallway. “You little brat, what paternity test? You’ve got my eyes, my cheeks, you look just like me! You’re obviously mine! What’s there to test?” Lily tilted her head curiously. “Is that your family, big sister?” I nodded, a little proud. My adoptive parents had always been good to me. There were even things Cole didn’t have that Coralie and I were sure to get. Cole sent a disappointed emoji. Coralie immediately followed up. “What about me? I’m so pretty. How could I have gotten Dad’s genes?” My mom sent another voice note. I could practically see her rolling her eyes. “Don’t flatter yourselves. Take a look in the mirror. One of you looks like me, the other like your dumb dad. Only Nora is tall and slender, with fair skin. She was the face of our family. Now all we have left are the crooked ones.” I snorted with laughter, then felt my eyes sting. This was the family dynamic I knew. Constant teasing, but with an undercurrent of affection. I typed a reply: [Mom, you’ll hurt their feelings.] Cole: [My path to riches is blocked! @Nora, set me up with a rich older woman. I’ll make my own way as a kept man!] Mom: [You ungrateful son! I’ll disown you!] Coralie: [Bro, if you’re gonna be a kept man, take me with you. My teeth aren’t so good either, can’t handle hard work. By the way! How are you doing over there, sis? Is there really no fake daughter?] I hesitated. [No, really. Just a five-year-old little sister.] Cole: [Oh no, does that mean you have to inherit the family fortune? Don’t forget us!] My dad suddenly chimed in: [@Nora How are they treating you?] How were they treating me? I had no idea. The Sterlings were still on a plane. So far, so good, I guess. I just replied, “Fine.” Cole was relentless: [What does ‘fine’ mean? Did they give you money? How much?] I rolled my eyes. [Can you have some dignity, bro?] Coralie jumped in: [Sis, if they bully you, just come back!] Just as I was about to reply, there was a soft knock on my door. Asher stood there, holding out a phone. “Nora, put your number in.” I raised an eyebrow and took the phone. It was already unlocked to the new contact screen. I deliberately typed my number slowly, and in the name field, I entered “Bro Crane.” Asher took the phone back. When he saw the name, his mouth twitched almost imperceptibly. He calmly deleted it, re-entered “Nora,” and saved it. Then, he pulled a card from his suit pocket. It was black, with a matte finish, the gold lettering shimmering under the light. My eyes widened instantly. 4 Could this be the legendary black card? “Take it,” Asher said, holding it out. “A welcome gift from me.” I took the card, my fingers trembling slightly. Back home, my monthly allowance was three hundred bucks, max, and I had to beg for it. This card could supposedly buy a private jet, and he was just handing it to me? “How much is on this?” I asked, feeling a bit pathetic. “Enough to buy the entire downtown luxury villa district.” I immediately stuffed the card into my pocket, afraid he’d change his mind. Fireworks were going off in my head. This wasn’t just finding my birth family; this was winning the lottery. “Thanks, bro!” The words slipped out before I could stop them. I was stunned. Did I just call him bro? Asher obviously caught it too. His expression shifted subtly, but he quickly regained his composure. “Mom and Dad will be home at seven. Do you want to change your clothes first?” He left, leaving me standing at the door, clutching the black card in my pocket, my heart racing like I’d just run a marathon. Clothes? What was wrong with ripped jeans, a cropped black t-shirt, wolf and serpent tattoos, a shiny nose ring, and bright pink hair? It was cool! But, for the sake of the black card, I decided to make an effort. I took out one pair of my earrings and changed into a slightly more normal t-shirt. At least this one didn’t have a skull on it. The hair would have to stay; that wasn’t a quick fix. At 6:50 PM, I was bouncing my leg nervously on the living room sofa. Lily sat next to me, her short legs mimicking my movement. “Are you nervous, big sister?” she asked innocently. “Who’s—who’s nervous? I’m just… hungry!” Lily nodded and pulled a piece of candy from her pocket. “Here, for you!” I took the candy, my heart softening. How could this little thing be so adorable? The sound of a car and footsteps came from outside. She immediately jumped up. “Mommy and Daddy are home!” My leg started shaking even more violently. Mr. Sterling walked in first, in a crisp suit, his presence so commanding it made you afraid to breathe too loudly. Mrs. Sterling followed, elegant in a long dress, a designer bag in her hand. The moment they saw me, they both froze in the doorway. Mr. Sterling stumbled, nearly face-planting. Mrs. Sterling gasped and grabbed the doorframe for support. “This… this is…” Mr. Sterling’s voice trembled. Asher nodded. “Dad, Mom, this is Nora.” “Oh my god! My Nora… how did she become a delinquent?” Mrs. Sterling clutched her chest. I looked down at myself. Hadn’t I already cleaned up? Compared to my initial look, this was practically conservative! Lily ran over and hugged her mother’s leg. “Mommy! Big sister is super cool!” Mr. Sterling composed himself and gave me a thumbs-up. “She’s got my youthful spirit!” Excuse me? Mrs. Sterling and Asher both turned to him with identical expressions of shock. “Robert Sterling, you dyed your hair and got a nose ring when you were young? How come I never knew?” Mrs. Sterling’s voice went up an octave. Mr. Sterling coughed, looking slightly embarrassed. “Well, no, but I had long hair! And I was in a band!” I stared at the impeccably dressed man. It was hard to imagine my own father was a rock-and-roller in his youth. Mrs. Sterling took a deep breath, turning her attention back to me. “Nora,” she asked hesitantly, “how many… how many people have you killed?” I blinked, a mischievous idea popping into my head. 5 “One.” Mrs. Sterling’s eyes rolled back, and she started to faint. Asher, quick on his feet, caught her, shooting me a helpless look. “Just me,” I added slowly. Mrs. Sterling immediately revived, patting her chest to calm herself down. “You child! You scared me to death!” Mr. Sterling wiped the sweat from his brow. “Nora, the Sterling family is a prominent one. We’ve been law-abiding citizens for eighteen generations. We avoid any association with illegal activities.” “Alright, alright,” I waved my hand. “I just like this look. I haven’t killed anyone, or set any fires. I haven’t even jaywalked.” My new parents exchanged a look of palpable relief. “Good, that’s good,” Mrs. Sterling murmured. She took a few steps closer and tentatively touched my pink hair. “Actually, this color really suits your complexion.” “Right? I did it myself!” I said, tossing my hair proudly. Ever since I dyed it this color, no one at the fish market dared to ask for credit. Mr. Sterling came closer, an appreciative look on his face. “It’s got personality! Isn’t this what all the young people are into these days? What’s it called again?” “It’s a punk rock aesthetic,” Asher supplied from the side, his face impassive. I was surprised. A spiritual CEO knew about this stuff? “Right! Punk rock! Trendy!” Mr. Sterling slapped his thigh. I was completely baffled by this sudden change in attitude. One minute I was a delinquent, the next I was a trendsetter? “That hairstyle actually suits your face shape. Where did you get it done? Maybe you can take me to get the same cut tomorrow!” Mrs. Sterling said, enthusiastically fluffing my pink hair, her eyes sparkling. Lily bounced up and down. “Me too, me too!” A vein throbbed on Asher’s forehead. “Mom! How old are you? Stop being ridiculous! Lily! You’re not even an adult yet!” Mrs. Sterling pouted and winked at me. “Nora, will you go shopping with Mom tomorrow? What’s wrong with being fifty? Who says a fifty-year-old can’t be fashionable?” My mouth hung open. This was a whiplash-inducing turnaround. “Uh, okay,” I nodded mechanically, completely thrown by her antics. Asher rubbed his forehead and walked away, the prayer beads in his hand a blur of motion. The next morning, I was still dreaming when a frantic knocking woke me up. “Nora! Open up!” Mrs. Sterling’s voice was filled with barely contained excitement. I rubbed my eyes and opened the door, and was instantly wide awake. Standing in the doorway was a middle-aged version of me. My mother had not only dyed her hair the exact same shade of pink but was also wearing ripped jeans and a studded leather jacket. She looked like a rebellious middle-aged punk rocker. “M-mom?” My voice cracked. “Well? I had Tony the stylist copy your hairstyle exactly!” she said, twirling around. I then noticed the embarrassed butler and the utterly defeated-looking Asher standing behind her. “You… you actually did it?” I stammered. “Of course! Let’s go shopping! I’ve already had the driver bring the car around!” she said, grabbing my hand. Asher took a deep breath. “Mom, the board meeting is at ten…” “My dear son, what are you and your father for? Stop acting like those characters in TV dramas, always fiddling with those prayer beads. They’re getting grimy. Aren’t you worried about tendonitis?” she said, pulling me downstairs without a backward glance. “I’m spending the day with my daughter! Don’t forget to pick up Lily from school this afternoon!” And just like that, I was dragged into the car. In the rearview mirror, Asher stood at the door, unsure whether to fiddle with his beads or not, his brow so furrowed you could trap a fly in it. 6 He looked like a stuffy, old-fashioned father worried his daughter was going to turn out bad. At the mall, my mother turned heads everywhere we went. After all, who would have thought the wife of the Sterling Group’s CEO, usually seen in business magazines, would show up looking like a middle-aged rock star? “Nora, what about this one?” She held up a skull-print t-shirt against herself. “Does it look like yours?” My mouth twitched. “Mom, are you sure you want to wear that?” “Of course! It’s a mother-daughter thing!” she said matter-of-factly. Three hours later, we were back in the car, loaded with shopping bags. She had not only bought herself a whole new wardrobe of rebellious middle-aged fashion but had also gotten me several new outfits. They were still in my favorite street style, but the quality and price were on a whole different level. “Nora, this is for you.” On the way home, my mother suddenly pulled another black card from her designer bag. Another one? Asher had just given me one yesterday. “This is my supplementary card. Use it to pay off your adoptive parents’ debt,” she said gently. My hand trembled, and I almost dropped the card. “What… what did you say?” Before I came here, I had indeed planned to get some money to pay off their debt. “Your adoptive parents have had it rough,” she said. “Running a fish stall to raise three kids. Now that they’re in trouble, it’s only right that we help.” I was touched. It was true; my family owned a fish stall and a small fish pond. My dad raised the fish, my mom sold them at the stall, and I helped out after school. Cole handled deliveries, and Coralie was still in middle school. The stall was tiny, but they had officially registered it as a company called “The Silver Fin.” A rival fishmonger, who had been competing with my dad for ten years, resorted to a dirty trick. He snuck over and poisoned our pond, killing all the fish. This happened right after my dad had signed a big contract with a restaurant. With no fish to supply, we were facing a huge compensation claim that bankrupted us. Their debt was only a hundred thousand dollars, which I had already paid off with the black card yesterday. Still, my mother’s attitude was unexpected. She suddenly pulled me into a hug. “Silly girl, I’m so grateful they raised you so well.” I let her hold me, my body stiff. The scent of her expensive perfume was a world away from the fishy smell that always clung to my adoptive mom, but it was just as warm. When we got home, my father nearly fell down the stairs when he saw my mother’s new look. “Eleanor! Your… your hair!” She twirled proudly. “Well? Isn’t it fashionable?” Asher came out of his study, took one look at her, and immediately turned back around, muttering something about “out of sight, out of mind.” On Sunday, my mother took me for a spa day in her new red convertible. Since dyeing her hair, she had discovered a whole new world. Yesterday, she even asked me where I got my nose ring done. “Nora, I’ve booked us a full-body essential oil massage. I hear the therapists at this place are amazing,” she said excitedly as she drove, her pink hair shimmering in the sun, even more dazzling than mine. I was slouched in my seat, scrolling through my phone. In our family group chat, Cole was whining about not being allowed to come visit. He said our parents were afraid he’d embarrass them. [@Nora Are you too happy in your mansion to remember us? Mom and Dad are visiting in a few days, and they’re not even bringing me!] I was about to reply when I heard the screech of brakes. The car lurched to a stop, and my phone flew onto the floor. “What was that?” I looked up to see a silver sports car skewed across the road in front of us, having missed us by inches. 7 “Hey, who is this guy? Can’t he drive?” my mother muttered, honking the horn twice. The sports car’s door opened upwards like a wing, and a young man stepped out. He had short, spiky hair that looked sharp to the touch, which contrasted with his baby face, making him look rather cute. “Why is it him?” my mother suddenly whispered. “What’s wrong?” I bent down to pick up my phone. The screen wasn’t cracked. Lucky. “That’s the youngest son of the Lin family,” she said in a low voice. “Your former fiancé.” A shiver went down my spine, and I almost dropped my phone again. What? So, I had dodged the fake-daughter and evil-stepsister tropes only to run headfirst into the arranged-marriage plot? The young man had already walked up to my mother’s window and knocked politely. She rolled down the window, a polite social smile plastered on her face. “Liam, what a coincidence.” The man, Liam, bowed slightly. His voice was smooth as silk. “Hello, Mrs. Sterling. I’m so sorry about that. My brakes are acting up.” “It’s fine, it’s fine,” my mother waved it off. “Where are you headed?” Liam’s gaze shifted to me, his expression a mix of politeness and curiosity. “To a party. And this is?” “Oh, this is my daughter, Nora,” my mother introduced. “Nora, this is Liam.” I gave him a nod, deliberately putting on a nonchalant air. “Yo, the fiancé?” Liam was clearly taken aback, his eyes darting around awkwardly. “Uh, the former fiancé.” My mother faked a cough. “Yes, yes. We don’t believe in arranged marriages.” I narrowed my eyes. I had a feeling there was more to this story. After Liam apologized and left, I immediately turned to my mother. “Mom, he’s so handsome. Why didn’t you lock that down?” She raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure?” A lightbulb went off in my head. “Does he have a secret love, someone he’s madly in love with, but his family disapproves?” My mother looked at me in surprise. “How did you know?” I rolled my eyes. “It’s a classic! That’s how all the dramatic romance novels go! His family must think the girl isn’t good enough for him, right?” “It’s not just that they disapprove; they nearly disowned him.” Her expression grew even stranger. “Whoa, that serious?” I whistled, ready for the gossip. “How common could she be? Did she sell tacos from a food truck?” My mother took a deep breath. “Because his secret love is a man.” Record scratch. My brain blue-screened. What? A man? This plot was taking a weird turn. What happened to the star-crossed lovers and the class divide? “S-so the Lins objected because…?” I stammered. “Because old Mr. Lin was still alive then, and he was quite traditional. It’s better now. Liam’s boyfriend even came to his birthday party last year.” “But,” she added, trying to suppress a smile, “the person he was originally interested in was your brother.” My brother? Asher “the spiritual CEO” Sterling? When we got home, we found a girl standing at the door talking to Asher. She was wearing a simple dress, her long hair loose, looking pure and sweet. When she saw us, she quickly wiped her eyes and forced a smile. “Hello, Mrs. Sterling.” Her gaze lingered on me for a second before quickly darting away.

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Adrian Wickham came to pick me up. The man who was always so cool and ascetic, so self-contained. He had let his new secretary sit in the passenger seat. And in that moment, I knew. This marriage wasn’t going to survive. 1 The day Adrian Wickham came to pick me up, I pulled open the passenger door and froze. A young, beautiful girl was sitting there, flashing me a sweet smile. “Hi, Mrs. Wickham!” She was polite, but she made no move to get up and offer me the seat. My eyes narrowed, my gaze shifting to Adrian. He was on the phone, his head down, completely oblivious to the silent, crackling tension. We were supposed to be going to an auction together tonight. I had been looking forward to our date, had spent hours getting ready, only to find someone else occupying his passenger seat—my seat. “It’s so nice to meet you, Mrs. Wickham. I’m Bella Locke, Mr. Wickham’s new assistant.” The girl’s lips curved into an enthusiastic smile, revealing two dimples that made her look exceptionally sweet. “I heard you were going to a private auction tonight, and I begged Mr. Wickham to let me tag along and see what it’s all about. Don’t worry, I won’t be in your way at all.” My heart plummeted into a cold, dark abyss. I knew this man, this coolly perfect man, better than anyone. He maintained a careful distance from everyone. He didn’t let people into his space easily. We had come together through an arranged marriage, a strategic alliance between our families. We had both considered our options carefully and chosen each other. Outsiders joked that I was signing up for a life of lonely nights with a man made of ice. But after we made it official, Adrian would hold me with a surprising warmth in his eyes. In moments of passion, the corners of his eyes would flush red. “You are my wife,” he’d once told me. “We are a unit. You are different from everyone else.” Today, it seemed, something had changed. 2 But I am not a shrinking violet who swallows her pride. I am Clara Shaw, and I’ve never had to second-guess myself when I’m angry. “Get out.” My voice was ice, leaving no room for argument. The girl stared at me, stunned. She clearly hadn’t expected me to humiliate her so directly on our first meeting. My tone must have been harsher than she’d anticipated, because for a moment, Bella looked completely lost. “I… I’m sorry, Mrs. Wickham.” Her voice trembled on the verge of tears as she scrambled awkwardly into the back seat. Just then, Adrian finished his call and looked over at us. He instantly realized I was furious. A look of weary indulgence flickered across his face. He leaned over and fastened my seatbelt for me. I noticed the seat had been adjusted. A wave of irritation washed over me, and I jabbed at the controls, moving it back to my precise settings. The whole ordeal left me simmering with rage. “This is infuriating! Who dares to adjust my seat?” The air in the car turned frigid. The girl in the back was so intimidated she didn’t dare make a sound. Adrian’s brow furrowed slightly. His voice was calm as he suggested, “If you’re not in the mood today, we can just go home.” In the rearview mirror, I could see the girl silently weeping. I felt a surge of profound annoyance. “Bella Locke, is it? I’m not in the mood anymore. You can get a taxi home. Mr. Wickham and I are leaving.” The girl’s face went pale. She glanced weakly at Adrian, but he made no move to rescue her. Utterly dejected, she got out of the car. 3 Adrian would never humiliate me in front of outsiders. He had always been a master of self-control. Which is why he suggested we go home. If there’s a problem, we solve it at home. That had been our unspoken rule for years. “She’s just a college kid, fresh out of school. Why are you making such a big deal out of this with her?” Adrian said, pulling me into his arms. “It was the first time.” He looked confused. “What was?” “In all these years, that was the first time you let another woman sit in your passenger seat.” He hadn’t realized that was what I was so upset about. Everyone in our circle knew how exceptional Adrian Wickham was. Countless women were infatuated with him, yet he remained aloof and untouchable, navigating a world of temptation without ever being swayed. A faint smile touched his lips as he ruffled my hair. “I can’t believe I finally made you jealous.” He leaned in to kiss me, his nose brushing against my cheek. “She’s my subordinate, Bella. That’s all. There is nothing, and there will never be anything, between us.” He cupped my face in his hands, his gaze locking with mine as he made his solemn promise. 4 A woman’s intuition is a powerful thing. Even though I had only met Bella once, my gut told me she had other ideas about Adrian. I thought my initial power play would be enough to put her in her place. I was wrong. The necklace from the auction—the one that was supposed to be mine—was around her neck the very next day. Kate, Adrian’s chief of staff, sent me a photo and a screenshot of a social media post. In the picture, the crescent-shaped diamond necklace rested against Bella’s pale throat, making her look even more delicate and lovely. Her eyes were swollen, but she had a triumphant little smile on her lips. She must have cried her eyes out last night and received a very generous consolation prize. The screenshot was of Bella’s post: [Mr. Wickham says that a girl has to be strong even when she’s been wronged! Wiping away the tears and getting back to work, sir! ] The post was accompanied by a picture of the necklace nestled in its box. For a moment, the blood in my veins felt like it was turning to ice. It’s embarrassing to admit, but her little stunt almost made me lose my composure. It was a disgusting feeling, like finding a smear of grime on a pristine white silk cloth. The impulse was so strong I almost jumped into my yellow Ferrari, floored it to 120 mph, and slapped her across the face. But then I looked at my own hands and thought, Am I really letting some cheap little schemer get under my skin? That’s beneath me. I made a call to my personal shopper at Hermès. Wendy’s voice was practically buzzing with excitement. “Don’t you worry about a thing, Mrs. Wickham,” she promised. “Even if I have to buy out half of New York, I’ll get everything you need and have it delivered today!” And so, that afternoon, before the workday was even over, every single female assistant to the executives at Wickham Industries headquarters, plus every woman in the general administrative office—a total of forty-six people, excluding Bella—received a generous gift from the CEO’s wife: A twelve-thousand-dollar Hermès necklace. Individually, they were nothing compared to the two-hundred-thousand-dollar auction piece, but the sheer volume of them sent a very clear message. Kate handled the distribution flawlessly. Each recipient was required to post a photo on their social media with a specific caption: [A gift from the boss’s wife! Mrs. Wickham says every girl deserves the best! Time to get to work! #BestBossWifeEver] The women were more than happy to comply. As assistants and admin staff, they were the nerve center of the company’s gossip mill. Who wouldn’t be thrilled to post about a gift like that? Some of the savvier ones even added their own commentary: [Mrs. Wickham really knows how to play the game!]. Individually, these assistants might not have had much power, but their collective ability to spread information was terrifying. Within half an hour, the entire company knew that the CEO’s wife had gifted them all Hermès necklaces. As for why, the corporate rumor machine was already in overdrive. Bella’s face was ashen. She looked deeply humiliated. With tears in her eyes, she fled to the restroom and took off the diamond necklace. Two colleagues who came in to touch up their makeup saw her and let out a knowing, derisive snort. Mortified, Bella kept her head down and hurried out, the sound of their unrestrained laughter chasing her down the hall. Her cheeks burning, she placed the necklace back in its box and returned it to Adrian, untouched. 5 Adrian had just finished a video call with a partner when he saw the girl, who had clearly been crying again, clutching the necklace box and staring forlornly at her feet. “What’s wrong?” he asked, puzzled. Bella’s tears started to fall before she could even speak. She sobbed softly, the picture of pitiable innocence. “Mr. Wickham, please take this back. I can’t accept it.” A flicker of annoyance crossed Adrian’s stern face. His instincts told him something had happened, but he didn’t press her. He simply watched her, waiting. Bella bit her lip, hesitating, before finally telling him everything that had happened in the office that day. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Wickham. I keep causing trouble for you. I just posted that to encourage myself. I don’t know how Mrs. Wickham found out about it.” She sniffled pathetically. “I didn’t think she would get so angry.” She looked as helpless as a little white rabbit. “Mr. Wickham, I want to apologize to her. I can explain everything to her in person.” Adrian never looked at social media. His time was consumed by work. But as the CEO of a major corporation, he was all too familiar with the vicious rumor mill within its walls. His already stern expression grew even colder. “I understand,” he said, his voice low and heavy.

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I woke up as a lioness, pregnant with cubs I didn’t remember conceiving. To raise them, to keep them alive, I had to lie. I hid my status as a mother and joined a new pride. The pride was in the middle of the great migration, and I spent my nights with a cub in my mouth, stumbling through the dark to keep up, my body screaming with exhaustion. I clung to the tail end of the pride like it was a lifeline, terrified of falling behind. The Lion King, who had been watching me with an unreadable expression, finally spoke. “You travel with such desperation,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “What is it you’re so afraid of losing?” 1 I prayed the cubs in my belly wouldn’t come too soon. At least not during the dry season. But fate, it seemed, had other plans for this lioness. I gave birth on the sun-scorched sand. Three fluffy little cubs tumbled and crawled around me. As far as the eye could see, the great plains were a sea of withered yellow. This land hadn’t seen a drop of rain in five months. “Mom, my brother scratched me!” “Nuh-uh, I just nudged her! The rock was hot, I was just moving my feet.” The siblings bickered constantly. I rested my head on my paws, my body a cushion on the hot ground. “Mama, look, there’s another mama over there.” What was he talking about? I followed his gaze and saw a mother musk ox leading her calf past us. “Oh my god, that thing is huge! Kids, run!” A jolt of pure human instinct shot through me. I scrambled up, snatched the smallest cub in my mouth, and bolted. I sprinted headlong, huffing and puffing, my cubs struggling to keep pace behind me. But the farther I ran, the more something felt wrong. I slowly eased my pace. I mentally slapped myself. I was a lion now. I should have been the one hunting the musk ox! By the time I turned around, filled with regret, the mother and her calf were long gone. 2 I was so hungry I could feel the world starting to spin. My cubs, weak from the lack of milk, wobbled and stumbled with every step. The endless, sun-baked savanna stretched out before us, a terrifying, empty expanse. A wave of panic washed over me. If we stayed hungry, it would only take a day and a night for this land to claim us. I had no choice but to mimic the lions I’d seen on nature documentaries. Gritting my teeth against the gnawing hunger, I trekked for miles until I finally managed to catch two small pikas. It was barely enough to fill a gap in my teeth, but at least it meant I could produce milk again. I raced back, desperate to feed my cubs, only to see three furry little heads poking over a sand dune. “Mama, look! So many lions.” My second-born stared with envy. “If we were with them, we’d never be hungry.” “Don’t say that!” the oldest swatted him with a small paw. “We won’t starve with Mama either.” Gurgle… His own little stomach betrayed him with a loud rumble. I climbed the dune and looked out. In the distance, a massive pride of lions was moving slowly across the vast plain. Behind them, the land stretched to the horizon, where an orange sun was sinking low in the sky. I knew, with a certainty that chilled me to the bone, that my cubs had no future with me alone. I slammed a paw into the dirt. I was staking everything on this. I had to. 3 The grasslands at night were even more vast and desolate. After finding a safe spot and lulling my cubs to sleep, I returned to the dune where I’d seen the pride. I followed their scent, running without pause. Just as the sun began to push its way over the horizon, I finally caught up to them. My approach immediately put the entire pride on high alert. “You’re not one of us. I’ve never seen you before.” “Leave now, or we won’t be so polite!” The lionesses bared their teeth, their bodies arching into combat stances. “Wait, don’t misunderstand!” I explained hurriedly. “I’m not here to challenge you. I’m here to join you.” One of the lionesses relaxed her posture slightly. “Can you hunt?” “Yes,” I said. A little bit is still ‘yes’, I muttered to myself, though my only victories so far were pikas. “Have you had cubs?” “Huh?” Was I being interviewed? Had the corporate rat race followed me even into the animal kingdom, complete with questions about my family status? Then, a flash of insight, cold and sharp. In a pride, the king would never tolerate cubs that weren’t his own. He would kill them without a second thought. The realization made me stammer. “N-no. None.” “What’s all the noise?” A deep, powerful voice cut through the tension. I turned to see a male lion approaching at a slow, deliberate pace. This must be the king. He was larger than any lion I’d ever seen. His gaze was piercing, his mane long and magnificent, and the muscles under his coat moved with a formidable, powerful grace. I instinctively took two steps back, a wave of regret washing over me. I shouldn’t have come. This lion could kill me with a single swipe of his paw. And I had cubs to raise. My courage evaporated. My knees felt weak. “I’m so sorry, sir. I’ll get out of your way right now.” I flattened my ears and turned to flee, but before I’d taken two steps, he was in front of me, blocking my path. His words were simple. “If you have nowhere else to go, you may walk with us.” I froze, and when his words finally registered, I was so overcome with relief I nearly fell to my knees. “I don’t mind! I don’t mind at all! I would be honored!” 4 The pride continued its migration. The sun of this dry season was harsher than any in recent memory. The scattered, skeletal remains of trees were a grim testament to the land’s fading life. I followed the pride absently, my mind consumed with worry. How were my children? Were they hungry? “Kael, there’s a herd of buffalo over there.” The long drought forced all animals to migrate, and this herd was no exception. Buffalo were enormous and not an ideal target, but the pride had been starving for days. It was a risk they had to take. “Yes. We hunt,” Kael said without hesitation, giving the command. The lionesses surged forward, charging the herd. The buffalo scattered in a panic. But they were formidable prey. The lionesses engaged in one long, draining battle after another, but came away with nothing. The pride’s division of labor was clear: the females hunted and raised the young, while the king patrolled the territory and fought off intruders. Kael watched the scene, his eyes narrowed. Then, with a sudden burst of movement, he charged. Dust exploded into the air. Before I could even see what had happened, a full-grown buffalo was down, Kael’s jaws locked on its throat, the great beast gasping its last breaths. There was a strict hierarchy when it came to eating. The king ate his fill first, and only then could the lionesses approach the kill. But Kael was no tyrant with his food. He gave a silent nod, permitting the others to eat alongside him. I hung back, ashamed. I hadn’t dared to join the hunt. Kael glanced at me. My tail went rigid with fear. He gestured with his head. “Come. There is room here.” My eyes lit up. I approached with the most fawning posture I could manage. “Thank you, my king! All hail the king!” I settled down next to Kael and devoured a large piece of meat, my stomach, which had been painfully empty for half a month, finally feeling full. After the meal, the pride rested. Seizing my chance while no one was watching, I sprinted back the way we came. I hoped my cubs weren’t scared. I returned to the dune and called out for them. “One! Two! Three!” I quickly heard the voice of my second-born. “Huh? It’s Mama!” My oldest was the first to appear, his face ecstatic. “Wow, it really is Mama!” My second cub ran over, circling my legs and rubbing his head against me. “Quick, call your sister. It’s time to drink,” I said, feeling the familiar pressure in my chest. Finally, my cubs could have a full meal. At the mention of their sister, both boys burst into tears. “Mama, we’re sorry! We lost her!” My world shattered. Forgetting all about nursing, I grabbed my boys and began a frantic search. “Three! Three, come to Mama!” “Little sister, where are you?” “SISTERRR—” We screamed until our throats were raw. The sun began to set, and there was still no sign of her. My heart felt like it was being torn apart. I fought back tears, about to give up. Suddenly, a faint voice drifted on the wind. “Mama…” Three! It was her! I followed the sound and found her trapped in a crevice between two large rocks. “Don’t be scared, Mama’s here,” I soothed her, pushing against the rock with all my might. My two boys joined in, using all their strength, their little paws scraped raw. Ignoring the pain, I finally dislodged the massive stone with my head. “Waaah! Mama!” My little girl threw herself into my arms, sobbing. I held my child, who I’d thought was lost forever, and my body shook with the cold sweat of relief. 5 I couldn’t bear the thought of something like that happening again. I would have gone insane. So I made a bold decision. I was going to hide my children within the pride. My second-born was thrilled, his tail held high. “Mama, can we really stay with you?” “It’s getting dark. I’m a little scared, Mama.” My youngest, having just survived her ordeal, was much more timid now. I knelt down. “Three, climb onto Mama’s back.” And so, with my daughter on my back and my two sons trotting behind me, we walked across the silent, vast plains under the high, bright moon. We caught up with the pride before dawn. The lionesses were sleeping, but Kael was gone, likely on patrol. “Mama! It’s that super big…” my second-born cried out in excitement. My oldest son’s fur stood on end. He quickly clamped a paw over his brother’s mouth. “Be quiet! Mama said we’re here to sneak food, we have to be discreet.” I raised a paw to my lips. “Shhh—quietly now. Don’t get caught.” The three little ones mimicked me in perfect unison. “Ssshh—we’re being sneaky.” I knew that to survive the dry season, we had to stick with this pride. If the cubs were discovered, it would be a death sentence for all of us. I warned them over and over. “You must stay hidden. I’ll be watching you. Don’t be scared, and don’t make a sound…” “You’re back?” Kael’s voice came from right behind me. The cubs scattered like frightened birds, diving under my belly. I immediately dropped to the ground to cover them, my heart pounding so hard I thought it would burst. “Ah, yes. I’m back,” I said, trying to sound calm. He didn’t seem to notice the little ones. “Where did you go? I was just looking for you.” So he wasn’t patrolling. He was looking for me? My mind raced. “I was thirsty. Went to find some water.” The cubs, cramped under my belly, began to squirm. My heart nearly flew out of my chest. I pressed down on them firmly and faked a cough. They finally settled down. Kael showed no signs of leaving. “This year’s dry season is too long. Water is hard to find. We just have to hold out until the rains come.” I was barely listening, just nodding and mumbling “Oh,” while silently praying for him to leave. “You know,” he continued, “I haven’t mated with any of these lionesses.” Oh, brother, I thought in agony. Why are you telling me this? Why won’t you just leave? “I only defeated the previous king half a month ago.” I don’t need to hear your life story, please, just go… “We leave at dawn. Get some rest.” He finally turned and walked away. I watched him go, only daring to let my cubs out when he was a safe distance away. My youngest gasped for air, her ordeal having left her breathless. My oldest watched Kael’s retreating figure with admiration. “Is that the Lion King? He’s so cool!” I was in no mood to discuss Kael’s accomplishments. I quickly ushered them away from the pride and hid them behind a large rock. 6 The pride trekked across the endless plains, the parched earth littered with the skeletons of animals. For me, the laws of the animal kingdom were a foreign language. In this land, devoid of civilization, I knew I would be quickly weeded out by nature. But I had to survive. At least until my children were grown. “Kael, signs of a wildebeest herd passing through here,” said a lioness named Kyra. She had been one ofthe former king’s mates. Kael made a quick assessment. “We’re picking up the pace. We might be close to the oasis.” The pride broke into a trot, but my heart sank. My children were still crawling through the tall grass far behind us. They would never be able to keep up. “Look, a river ahead!” one of the lionesses exclaimed in delight. They hadn’t had a proper drink in days and rushed to the water’s edge. While they were preoccupied, I seized the opportunity and ran back. My little ones were already exhausted. “Brother, I’m so tired, I can’t run anymore,” my daughter whimpered, though she kept her little paws moving, trying to keep up. “We can’t rest,” my oldest urged. “Don’t stop, or we’ll never see Mama again.” “We’re hiding so well, Mama must be so happy with us.” “Huh? It’s Mama!” My oldest son’s eyes lit up as he saw me running towards them. Without a word, I scooped up my daughter, let my sons clamber onto my back, and hurried to catch up with the pride. But I immediately faced a new problem. The river had bought me time, but now it blocked our path. I hid behind a dead tree, peering out at the pride. They had finished drinking and were now crossing the river. My cubs were too small to make it across. “Mama, what do we do? You’re going to leave us, aren’t you…” my second-born asked, his gaze uncertain. My other two cubs drooped their ears and hung their heads in sorrow. “Nonsense! I would abandon anything before I abandoned you.” I understood his fear. In the animal kingdom, abandoning the weak in a crisis was a common, brutal choice. The pride was already on the other side. If I didn’t follow now, I might never catch up. “We’ll wait for them to get further ahead, then Mama will take you across.” No matter what happened, I would never abandon my children. I watched the pride move across the vast landscape until they disappeared over the horizon. Then, I let my three little ones drink their fill from the river and play for a while before I carried them across. The plains on the other side were just as vast and empty. Once again, we were alone in this immense land.

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It was New Year’s Eve. Maxwell Kane came downstairs, dressed impeccably. I was putting up festive decorations on the windows. He walked over to me. “I won’t be home for the New Year. Will you be alright on your own?” Before I could ask why, he delivered the blow. “She’s pregnant. The baby’s mine. I have to be with her.” My hand trembled. What I was holding slipped from my fingers and hit the floor. “Why tell me now, of all times?” His silence was the only answer I needed. Our marriage was over. My voice was a raw, broken thing. “Maxwell, let’s get a divorce.” “Ava, haven’t I been good to you? Why would you want a divorce?” 1 Even the calmest, most rational person would shatter hearing those words. I snatched the heavy crystal ashtray from the coffee table and hurled it at him. “Why!” “Why?!” “Maxwell, you’re with another woman, and you have the audacity to ask me why?” “Don’t you hear how ridiculous you sound?” Maxwell didn’t flinch. Glass sprayed across the floor. A dark bruise instantly blossomed on his forehead. It wasn’t enough. I threw books, magazines, anything I could get my hands on, pelting him with the debris of our life together. Maxwell stood there, still as a statue, not even a flicker of pain in his eyes. Finally, I smashed my favorite vase—the one holding the flowers I’d picked from the garden just this morning. Maxwell had always been a cold man. Before we married, this house was a sterile monument to minimalist design, all cool tones and sharp edges. It had no soul. Every week, I’d buy flowers to breathe some warmth into the space. After we married, I hired a designer, hand-picked every piece of furniture, every small object, to turn this house into a home. Our home. And now, I had destroyed it with my own hands. The wreckage mirrored the ruin inside me. Maxwell just watched me, his eyes strange, as if he were observing a madwoman. When I had nothing left to throw, I sank to the floor, covering my face, and sobbed. He walked over and stood above me. After a long moment, he lifted me from the floor, cleared a space on the sofa, and gently set me down. He knelt before me, a flicker of what looked like pain in his own eyes. He brushed a tear from my cheek with his thumb. “Ava, don’t do this… It hurts me to see you like this.” 2 I saw my reflection in his eyes—a tear-stained, pathetic mess. I froze. How had it come to this? I wiped my cheeks, trying to gather the scattered pieces of my composure. “Do you remember what you promised me?” I whispered. “You said we’d be together forever. Through thick and thin. Grow old together.” But Maxwell, we’ve only been married three years. And you’ve already betrayed me. You’ve betrayed our marriage. “How long have you been with her?” His gaze darted away, unable to meet mine. “Almost a year.” A whole year? They’d known each other that long? I dug my nails into my palm, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. “Why choose now to tell me? Why not just keep lying?” Maxwell sat down beside me in silence, pulling out a lighter and a cigarette. The smoke hazed the sharp lines of his face. “I didn’t want to lie to you.” I didn’t want to lie to you. What a noble, hollow sentiment. If he didn’t love me anymore, he could have just told me. We could have divorced. I’m not the kind of woman who clings. But he chose to cheat. “She’s young,” he said, his voice distant. “In her early twenties. So full of life. She’s not like you, Ava. She accepts the gifts I buy her, the money I give her. She’s clingy, affectionate.” As he spoke, a light I hadn’t seen in years ignited in his eyes, only to dim when he looked back at me. “But you… you’re none of those things, Ava. With you, everything feels… muted.” “I’m your husband. I’m supposed to be the closest person to you.” But Maxwell, this is who I am. Quiet. Reserved. My childhood, my family—it made me this way. I don’t know how to be overly affectionate. I don’t like to be a burden. I keep a careful ledger, even with the people I love most. I was trying to change. I was learning to lean on him. But where was he when I needed him? When I was lying in a hospital bed after the car crash, calling his phone over and over? “Every Monday, you make lasagna. Every Wednesday, it’s roast chicken. I’m tired of it, Ava. I’m so tired of this bland, predictable life.” I didn’t understand. The table was always full of dishes. Only one or two were my favorites; the rest were his. Why was he fixating on those two? “You’re like… plain porridge, Ava,” he said, the words twisting like a knife. “Nourishing, but tasteless. A shame to throw away. But she… she’s like candy. Sweet, addictive. I can’t get enough of her.” A small, fond smile touched his lips. “She’s so bold. She dragged me to an amusement park and insisted we go into the haunted house first. She stood there with her hands on her hips, claiming she wasn’t scared. The second we were inside, she was so terrified she leaped into my arms and wouldn’t let go.” “Her heart was pounding so fast against my chest. Thump, thump, thump. She wrapped her arms around my neck, her face flushed, and she kissed me. I should have pushed her away. But I didn’t…” “Stop it!” The pain was a numb, crushing weight. I couldn’t breathe. “Ava…” “Maxwell, I’m begging you. Please, just stop.” 3 The living room fell into a dead silence. Maxwell’s phone rang. He pulled it out, glanced at me, and answered it without a hint of shame. A young, sweet voice chirped from the speaker. “I’m hungry. When are you coming back?” “Hungry?” As Maxwell looked at me, I shot to my feet, my mind racing, frantically searching for something. “Mmm-hmm. Me and the baby are both hungry.” “I’ll be right there to feed you both.” A chill went through my entire body. I pressed my hands to my head, trying to think. What was I looking for? My phone. Yes, my phone. What if there was an important work message I’d missed? What if I’d missed an important call? “Be good now, baby. I’ll be there soon.” “I love you, hubby! Mwah!” I tried desperately to block out the sound, wishing I were deaf. But I wasn’t. Maxwell’s light, cheerful voice washed over me like a toxic wave. Only the sting of blood in my palm, where my nails had broken the skin, brought me back to myself. Maxwell had ended the call at some point and was now standing behind me. “She’s getting impatient. I should go.” “I’ll explain everything to my parents. If you don’t want to go to the family dinner tomorrow, you can stay here.” He paused. “Do you want me to call the housekeeper to stay with you over the holiday?” “No, that’s probably not a good idea. It’s New Year’s Eve. She should be with her family.” He spoke as if he were thinking aloud. So he did know it was New Year’s Eve. A time for family. What did that make me? A stranger? Someone completely irrelevant? I picked up the electric kettle and poured myself a glass of hot water. The warmth spreading down my throat did little to dispel the icy cold that had taken root in my soul. “Maxwell. Let’s get a divorce.” At the entryway, Maxwell paused, his hand on the doorknob. “I promised I would take care of you for the rest of your life, Ava. If you want, you can always be Mrs. Kane. We can go on just like before.” “And her?” “I’ll buy her a house. Settle her somewhere else. I won’t let her bother you.” 4 Maxwell left. I was alone in the wreckage of our living room. Before he walked out the door, he had come back to wipe away my tears. And with the same lips that had kissed me a thousand times, he’d said the words that broke me. “Ava, just be good. She won’t try to take anything from you.” I walked numbly up the stairs and into our bedroom. I stared at our wedding photo. The girl in the picture was smiling, her face a portrait of pure happiness. I turned and went into the bathroom, splashing cold water on my face. The woman in the mirror was a disaster. Red-rimmed eyes, tear-streaked cheeks. I slowly raised my hand. Ava, this isn’t you. The cold water was a shock. I told myself not to be sad. But how could I not be sad after so many years? I collapsed onto the bed, wishing it had all been a nightmare. But when I woke up, the memories were still there, sharp and vivid, a cruel reminder that it was all real. My phone vibrated. It was Maxwell’s mother. I ignored it, staring blankly at my laptop screen. A few moments later, it rang again. I hesitated, then answered. “Ava, darling, it’s New Year’s Eve. You and Maxwell, remember to come home early.” I held the phone, unsure how to respond. “Ava?” “Maxwell… did he not tell you anything?” “What’s wrong? Did you two have a fight? That boy isn’t even answering his phone.” “It’s nothing.” “Well, as long as everything’s alright. Just remember to come home early with Maxwell.” 5 Some things couldn’t be said over the phone. It was better to talk in person. But before I went to the Kane estate, I had to stop at a print shop. The usually bustling streets were eerily quiet for the holiday. I tried several shops, but they were all closed. The bitter wind whipped around me, and I pulled my coat tighter. Just as I was about to give up, I saw a small copy shop with its lights still on. Maybe, I thought, my luck wasn’t so bad after all. The owner asked what I needed to print, if I needed help. I managed a polite smile. “No, thank you.” He paused, probably wondering who on earth would be printing a divorce agreement on New Year’s Eve. He quickly bound the documents and handed them to me. “Happy New Year,” he said. My hand froze as I was about to pay. He was the first person to wish me a Happy New Year today. Not my family. Not even Maxwell. A sudden sting filled my eyes. “Happy New Year to you, too.” Outside the shop, I took a deep breath, tucked the documents into my bag, and called Maxwell. “Are you going to your parents’?” “He’s in the shower right now and can’t take your call,” a woman’s voice answered. “Is there a message I can pass along, Ms. Cole?” It wasn’t Maxwell. It was his little mistress. Her words were dripping with provocation. “Please inform Maxwell that his mother wants him to come home.” 6 When I arrived at the Kane estate, Maxwell’s mother was in the kitchen, preparing for dinner. I walked in with the gifts I’d brought. “Ava, dear, why are you alone? Where is that boy?” Faced with their questions, I was at a loss for words. “Maxwell is busy. He’ll be here later.” “So busy on New Year’s Eve? I told him to come home early.” His father grumbled. “I’m going to call him and see what’s so important.” I didn’t try to stop him. I didn’t care. I went into the kitchen to help. Maxwell’s parents had always been kind to me. It was a holiday. I didn’t want to ruin it for everyone. I decided I would talk about my situation with Maxwell another day. We worked all afternoon, but there was still no sign of Maxwell. As dusk fell, we had just sat down to eat when he finally arrived. But he wasn’t alone. “Mom, Dad, I’m home.” Maxwell held a gift in one hand. With the other, he was holding a young woman’s hand. He probably thought I had already told his parents everything. Just then, fireworks exploded outside the window, their colorful bursts lighting up the night sky. It felt like they were celebrating Maxwell and his new love. When the sound of the fireworks died down, Maxwell’s parents exchanged a look. They could see something was wrong. “What time is it? Do you know you’re supposed to be here?” his mother said, her eyes sweeping over the girl by his side. “And on such an important day, why would you bring a stranger home?” The girl seemed frightened and instinctively leaned closer to Maxwell. Maxwell frowned at me, as if he wished I weren’t there. A few seconds later, he smiled and held up their intertwined hands. “Mom, Dad, she’s not a stranger.” “Her name is Chloe. We’re together.”

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At my father’s birthday party, as he was making a wish over his cake, my mother leaned in and whispered something in his ear. My father, a man who cherished his life above all else, jumped from the balcony a moment later. After his death, countless people asked my mother what she had said. Someone even offered a million dollars for her secret. But she remained silent. Until my wedding day. My mother showed up at the ceremony. And whispered that same secret into my fiancé’s ear… 1 My mother became famous after my father died. My dad was known for his fierce love of life. His sudden suicide could only be explained by the words my mother had whispered to him. Everyone wanted to know what they were. Rich women in unhappy marriages offered her a million dollars, hoping to buy the words that could kill. But my mother never spoke. Not even when the police interrogated her. She just lowered her head and remained silent. In the end, she was sentenced to three years in prison for inciting suicide. After handling my father’s funeral, I visited her in prison. “Mom,” I pleaded, “what did you say to Dad? Why did he kill himself?” Through the thick glass partition, her expression was serene. “He didn’t want to live anymore. What does that have to do with me?” Her calm indifference was a knife to my heart. “Dad would rush to the hospital for a paper cut, terrified of an infection,” I said, my voice choked with bitterness. “His birthday wish was always to live to be a hundred, to see me get married and hold his grandchildren. Tell me, why would a man like that suddenly kill himself?” I was heartbroken, but more than that, I was confused. My father was a kind man, and he and my mother had always seemed happy together. Why would she say something to drive him to suicide? What could she possibly have said? In response to my questions, she only gave me a long, deep look. “Stop asking,” she said, her voice flat. “Knowing too much won’t do you any good.” 2 With that, she ended the visit. I went home. The house that was once filled with laughter now held only a black-and-white portrait of my father. A sharp pain pierced my heart, and my confusion deepened. I went into my parents’ room, searching for any clue, any hint of an answer. In the closet, their clothes were neatly folded. My mother had once said that my father looked handsome in white, so he only ever bought white clothes. My mother loved gold, so my father had filled a drawer with gold jewelry for her. My mother’s health was frail, so my father’s nightstand was stocked with all the medications she might need. The more I looked, the less I understood. Every corner of this room screamed of love and happiness. My father had been so good to us. Why would my mother destroy it all? I wanted answers, but after our last conversation, she refused to see me again. Her cold, resolute silence left me heartbroken. I moved out of that house of sorrow and into an apartment with my long-time boyfriend, Alex. In those lonely, helpless days, Alex was my rock. He was gentle and considerate, accepting and caring, wrapping me in his unconditional love. Three years later, we set a date for our wedding. The night before the ceremony, Alex asked me tentatively, “Emma, your mom is out of prison now. This is such an important day for us. Aren’t you going to invite her? Are you still angry with her?” I paused. “I just can’t understand it,” I said honestly. “My dad was such a good person. Why would she want him dead?” Alex didn’t hesitate. “What if it was all a misunderstanding? How could a single sentence really make someone kill themselves? Maybe your dad’s death hit her so hard that she couldn’t bear to talk about it.” He squeezed my hand, his voice gentle. “No matter what, she’s still your mother. A wedding is a huge milestone. You should let her know. She’s the only family you have left in this world. Imagine how hurt she’d be if she found out her only daughter got married without inviting her.” Alex was always like that—kind, thoughtful, always putting others first. In the years of my confusion and despair, he had been my sun, warming me, teaching me how to walk out of the darkness and into the light. His words filled me with a bittersweet warmth. After a moment’s thought, I sent my mother an invitation. 3 The next day was the wedding. To show how much he valued me, Alex had planned a grand, lavish ceremony. The venue was packed with guests, buzzing with excitement. My mother came. I hadn’t seen her in years, and she had gotten thinner. The wrinkles at the corners of her eyes and the streaks of grey in her hair made her look weary, ancient. Her face was expressionless, her gaze shifting only between me and Alex. It had been so long. I felt like there was a depth to her eyes that I couldn’t penetrate. At the officiant’s invitation, my mother walked onto the stage. Alex, beaming with excitement and happiness, made a promise to her. “Ma’am, thank you so much for coming to our wedding. Please don’t worry. I will take good care of Emma. I’ll spend the rest of my life loving her and making sure she never has to suffer.” As the mood lightened, the officiant held the microphone to my mother. “As the mother of the bride, is there anything you’d like to say to your daughter?” My mother, who should have been offering me her blessings, simply said, “No.” Her voice was calm. “I only have one thing to say to my son-in-law.” With that, she stepped forward, leaned close to Alex’s ear, and whispered. The smile on Alex’s face vanished, replaced by a look of pure, unadulterated terror. His eyes darted to me. Then, as if possessed, he bolted towards the hotel balcony. “Alex, stop!” I screamed. He didn’t hear me. He was running as if from a monster, and with a desperate, decisive leap, he threw himself over the railing. THUD! The sound of a heavy impact was followed by a symphony of screams from below. It all happened so fast. By the time anyone reacted, Alex was already lying in a twisted heap in a pool of blood. Silent. Still. 4 Alex was dead. He died at our wedding. Killed by my mother’s words. The guests rushed downstairs, staring in shock and horror at the scene. Alex’s mother collapsed to the ground, cradling his body and weeping hysterically. I felt my heart shatter, my body go limp. The man who had just promised to love me for the rest of his life was now a bloody corpse. I couldn’t accept it. Just then, my mother descended the stairs, her movements slow and deliberate. She calmly tucked a stray hair behind her ear, as if the chaos around her was of no concern. Seeing her, Alex’s father pointed a trembling finger, his voice shaking with rage. “What did you say to my son? Why did he kill himself the moment he heard your words?” Alex’s other relatives and friends joined in, their voices thick with grief and fury. “You venomous witch! Today was supposed to be the happiest day of Alex’s life! Why did you have to come here and ruin it?” “We heard you killed your own husband with a single sentence. We knew you were no good! But Alex insisted we had misunderstood you. He even told us not to judge you, not to talk about what happened to your husband. He was always thinking of you, and this is how you repay him? Are you even human?!” “People like you should rot in prison for the rest of your lives!” Through it all, my mother remained calm, indifferent. “He chose to kill himself. What does that have to do with me?” Her voice was light, as if she were a mere bystander. Alex’s mother, heartbroken, suddenly lunged forward and grabbed my mother by the collar. “You murderer!” she screamed through her tears. “Give me back my son! My son was a kind man his whole life! He never did a single bad thing! He loved your daughter with all his heart, gave her everything! Before the wedding, he begged us to be good to her. He said he wanted to live a happy life with her, have children, grow old together! He was so optimistic, so full of hope for the future! How could he possibly kill himself? Tell me! What did you say to him? Why did you kill him?!” Alex’s mother, always so gentle and loving, had completely broken down. I didn’t stop her. I looked at my mother with utter disappointment, my voice aching with pain. “Why? Wasn’t killing Dad enough? Why did you have to kill Alex too?” My father had been so good to me. Our family had been so happy. But my mother’s words destroyed it all. Then Alex came into my life, his love healing me, making me feel the warmth of a family again. Now, just as we were about to build a new life together, my mother had torn it all down again, killing the man I loved, destroying everything I had ever hoped for. Alex’s death ignited a fire of hatred for my mother that consumed me. She looked at me, a flicker of something—uncertainty?—in her eyes. “You think that of me too?” “I just want to know,” I sobbed. “What did you say to them?” I remembered it clearly now. The day my father died, he had looked at me with that same expression of terror, just like Alex, before he jumped. I had to know. What words could make two kind, optimistic men make such an extreme choice? The guests and onlookers erupted, screaming at my mother. “First your husband, now your son-in-law! You murderer! You don’t deserve to live!” “If you don’t give us an explanation today, we won’t let you leave here alive!” “Tell us! What did you say to them?” Facing the crowd’s accusations, my mother coolly shook off Alex’s mother’s hand. She straightened her collar and surveyed the crowd. “I can say it,” she said, her voice cold. “But do you dare to listen?” The noisy scene fell silent. Everyone was frozen, their faces etched with fear. These were words that killed. Anyone who heard them chose suicide without hesitation. They were curious, but they were also terrified. As everyone stood silent, I stepped forward. “I dare.” Because of a single sentence, the father who adored me and the man who loved me were both dead. I had to know why. Even if it meant my own death, I wasn’t afraid. My mother looked at me, her gaze deep. “Are you sure you won’t regret it?” I nodded. “I’m sure.” Her expression softened slightly. Finally, she leaned in close to my ear and whispered the words. 5 After my mother spoke, all eyes were on me. Just moments before, they had all witnessed Alex jump to his death, his face a mask of terror, right after my mother had whispered in his ear. They were waiting to see my reaction. Waiting to see if I, too, would kill myself. But under their curious and tense gazes, I did nothing strange. I just frowned at my mother. “You’re lying,” I said, my voice firm. “You couldn’t have said that to them.” Faced with my disbelief, my mother’s expression remained placid. “I’ve told you. Whether you believe it or not is up to you.” “If that’s all you said, why would Dad and Alex kill themselves?” I retorted without hesitation. They were both such optimistic, kind men. How could a simple sentence like that drive them to suicide? At that moment, I was certain she was lying to me. But her face was a mask of sincerity. “As I said, they chose to kill themselves. It has nothing to do with me.” My passionate accusations and her calm explanations left the crowd bewildered. They stared at us, their eyes full of suspicion and doubt. Before I could speak again, police cars arrived, sirens wailing. Several officers got out and walked straight to my mother. “We received a call that you are suspected of deliberately inciting someone to commit suicide. This is the second death you’ve been involved in. Please come with us for questioning.” Facing the police again, my mother said nothing. She silently allowed them to handcuff her and lead her to the car. Through the car window, she looked at me, her gaze deep and meaningful, as if there were a thousand things she wanted to say. I had the strangest feeling that there was something she was desperate to tell me, but for some reason, she couldn’t. As I watched, the police car drove away, taking my mother with it. Even after she was gone, the crowd continued to stare at me. When it became clear that I was fine, Alex’s mother approached me, her voice hesitant. “Emma, what did your mother say to you?” 6 In the years after my father’s death and my mother’s imprisonment, Alex had cared for me devotedly, and his mother had treated me like her own daughter. I respected her, and I felt a deep sense of guilt towards her. Looking into her sad, curious eyes, I felt helpless. “My mom just said, ‘Happy wedding day.’ Nothing else.” Alex’s mother frowned, her face a picture of disbelief. “How is that possible? Just now, after she spoke to Alex, his face was full of terror. If that’s all she said, why would he react like that? Why would he kill himself in front of everyone?” Others chimed in. “Yes, we all saw his reaction. Those words wouldn’t have caused such a reaction.” “Besides, who whispers well wishes in someone’s ear? She’s obviously lying.” “That’s right, Emma. Alex was always so good to you. You can’t protect your mother just because she’s a murderer.” “Yes, just tell us what she really said. Don’t cover for her.” Even Alex’s father spoke, his voice grave. “Emma, my son was devoted to you. He never let you suffer. If you have even a shred of genuine feeling for him, you won’t let him die like this, without any answers.” Faced with their accusations, I tried to explain again. “My dad and Alex both died the same way, because of my mother’s words. So, more than anyone, I want to know what she said. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have stood up in front of everyone and asked her to tell me. I don’t think it was those words either, but she really only said, ‘Happy wedding day.’ I was just confronting her about it, you all heard me!” Because of a single sentence, I had lost the two most important people in my life. I wanted to know why more than anyone. Seeing my firm words and serious expression, the crowd, though still skeptical, said no more. They turned their attention to handling Alex’s funeral arrangements. A celebration had turned into a funeral. My heart had plummeted from heaven to hell. After attending Alex’s funeral, my body exhausted and my heart in pieces, I returned to my childhood home. As I arrived, I found a crowd of people waiting at my door.

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1 My brother Leo and I went to his fiancée’s house to pick her up for the wedding, but she refused to come downstairs, deciding to play games instead. “Camille,” she said, her voice dripping with challenge, “I won’t feel safe marrying into your family until you pass my obedience test.” I glanced at my lovestruck brother, Leo, whose eyes were pleading with me. I had no choice but to nod. First, the bride-to-be, Jessica, demanded I transfer $1,000 to each of her bridesmaids and all the gathered relatives as a “token of goodwill.” For my brother’s happiness, I gritted my teeth and sent the money. Second, she ordered me to kneel on the floor, wash her feet, and put on her wedding shoes. Seeing Leo on the verge of tears, I swallowed my pride and did it. “And for the third thing,” Jessica announced with a smirk, “we’ll have an exchange. I want you to marry my brother!” I refused on the spot. But Jessica was smugly confident. “Don’t follow the rules, and you can get the hell out of the Vaughn family. You’re just the adopted one. Don’t get ahead of yourself.” My own brother chimed in, twisting the knife. “She’s right, Camille. Mom and Dad adopted you. It’s about time you paid them back by helping me.” I almost laughed from the sheer audacity of it. The truth was, Mom and Dad had adopted him because they thought I was too lonely as a child! … The eyes of everyone in the room darted toward me. “I had no idea the Vaughns’ daughter was adopted. And here I was, so jealous of her, thinking she was born with a silver spoon in her mouth.” “Her adoptive parents must be saints. Look at her, decked out in designer brands from head to toe.” Jessica’s eyes glinted with envy, her words laced with acid. “What can I say? My future in-laws are just so generous, even to an adopted stray. They’re only putting my name on one of their properties, while she has several in her name already.” She shot me a look of pure contempt. “Some people have no shame, happily taking things that aren’t rightfully theirs.” I took a series of deep breaths, forcing down the fire in my chest. Today was Leo’s wedding day. I couldn’t be the one to ruin it. I told myself I’d try one last time. Forcing a smile, I said, “Jessica, please come downstairs. We’ll be late.” She slapped my hand away and spun to face Leo, her voice a shrill whine. “Leo, what is your sister trying to say? Is she looking down on my brother, or is she looking down on me? Didn’t you tell me you’re the one who calls the shots in your family? How can she refuse something so simple for our wedding?” Sparks flew from my eyes. Something so simple? And her brother? Did she have any self-awareness at all? The man was a total creep who looked to be in his forties, complete with a beer belly, a balding head, and a smile that revealed a mouthful of yellow teeth. Jessica wouldn’t let it go. “My parents worked so hard to put me through college, and now I’m supposed to slave away for your family for the rest of my life,” she sobbed. “Is it really too much to ask for you to give them a daughter in return?” She started crying hysterically. “It’s our wedding day, and your sister is already disrespecting me! I can’t imagine how she’ll treat me once I’m actually married into your family! Leo, if your sister doesn’t marry my brother, then this wedding is off!” The threat of cancellation sent my love-drunk brother into a panic. He rushed over to her, half-kneeling. “My darling, please don’t do this to me. I chased you for so long to win your heart. If we don’t get married today, I don’t think I can go on living!” Jessica shoved him away, and he stumbled to the ground. “Your sister refuses to complete my obedience test! I know she’ll make my life hell!” she shrieked. “I’m my parents’ precious treasure! Why should I have to put up with her abuse?” The inferno in my chest roared hotter. I dug my nails into my palms, trying to stay grounded. Leo clutched his back as he scrambled to his feet. He turned to me, his brow furrowed in annoyance. “Camille, what is your problem? What’s so wrong with you marrying Jessica’s brother?” “So what if he’s a little older? He’ll know how to take care of you! Are you looking down on their family’s financial situation? Mom and Dad gave you several houses, didn’t they? That’s more than enough for you to live on for the rest of your life!” “What?” he sneered. “Are you still dreaming of marrying some rich, handsome prince? Wake up, Camille! Your birth parents were nobodies from the countryside. What wealthy guy would ever seriously look at you?” He leaned in, his voice a low threat. “If you don’t agree to this, I’ll tell Mom and Dad you ruined my wedding. Believe me, they’ll kick you out on the street in a second.” In that moment, the last thread of my composure snapped. 2 I dropped the purse Jessica had made me hold and stormed toward the door. “I don’t care if this wedding happens or not. I’m going home!” But before I could leave, Jessica grabbed my arm in a vice-like grip. “You’re not going anywhere!” She unzipped the purse. “First, I’m going to check if you stole anything from me!” She opened the bag. Inside, there was nothing but a few empty red envelopes from the earlier cash gifts. Jessica shrieked, “Leo! The diamond necklace, the ring, the gold you gave me… it’s all gone!” Her expression twisted into one of vicious accusation as she pointed a finger at my face. “Well, well, Camille. I thought I could trust you, my future sister-in-law, to hold my bag for me. I never thought you’d have such sticky fingers!” I was completely stunned. She immediately started a live stream, shoving the camera right in my face. “Everyone, look! This is my future sister-in-law, the famous Miss Vaughn of the Vaughn Corporation. But guess what? She’s the adopted daughter. I guess she inherited some bad genes from her real parents!” “I asked her to hold my bag, and in just a few minutes, tens of thousands of dollars worth of my jewelry vanished! The bag never left her hands. I wonder who could have taken it? It’s such a mystery!” A flood of malicious comments poured in. “This is why you should be careful about adopting. Who knows what kind of trash their parents were?” “Look at her, dressed in all those designer brands. You’d never guess she was a common thief.” “What a snake in the grass. Her adoptive parents gave her everything, and she repays them by stealing from her brother’s fiancée and trying to ruin his wedding.” Jessica’s bridesmaids swarmed me, snatching my own purse. They dumped its contents onto the floor. When they found nothing, Jessica grabbed a handful of my hair and slapped me hard across the face. “Bitch, tell me where you hid it!” My cheek burned, and the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. But what chilled me to the bone was my brother’s reaction. He just stood there, watching with cold indifference. He even added, his voice light, “Come on, Camille. Just give Jessica her things back. Don’t ruin our wedding, okay?” I wiped a smear of blood from my lip. “Since you’re so sure I stole something,” I said, my voice dangerously calm, “then let’s call the police and have them figure it out.” Jessica snatched my phone and smashed it on the ground. The screen shattered. She crossed her arms, glaring at me. “This is a small town. What will the neighbors think if they see the police show up at my parents’ house?” “Since you’re so determined to deny it, we’ll just have to search you ourselves.” A wicked glint appeared in Jessica’s eyes. “Girls, strip her down. Who knows, maybe she hid it in her underwear.” Panic seized my heart. “Jessica, that’s illegal!” I shouted. “Leo, call the police!” But Leo just rubbed his ear and went back to scrolling on his phone. My eyes widened in horror as I stared at the boy I had loved and protected for over twenty years, blood or not. My heart turned to ice, piece by piece. “Leo!” I screamed. “I’m your sister!” When we were kids, I was always the one who stood in front of him, taking the blame for his mistakes. Leo just scoffed. “Give me a break. Your deadbeat parents were so poor they had to sell you to our family. You think you’re worthy of being my sister?” Jessica’s friends yanked up my t-shirt, exposing my skin to the leering eyes in the room. Whistles echoed around me. I struggled, but Jessica just slapped me again and again, until my ears were ringing. She leaned in close, her voice a venomous whisper. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll sign over all your properties to Leo. Then I’ll let you go.” “Otherwise,” she smirked, “your parents will believe you’re a thief. You’ll lose everything and get thrown out with nothing.” So that was it. A thief crying wolf, all to steal my houses. Rage burned so fiercely it felt like it would tear through my chest. My voice trembled as I spoke. “Jessica, if you ever manage to marry into the Vaughn family, my name isn’t Camille Vaughn!” Jessica burst out laughing as if I’d told the funniest joke in the world. “Have you forgotten your place? You’re the adopted one. Who do you think you are to make threats like that?!” Her eyes darkened. She waved a hand. “Girls, teach her a lesson. Don’t worry, she’s not their real daughter!” 3 A sharp fist slammed into my forehead. A warm trickle of blood ran from my nose. Kicks landed on my stomach, sending waves of agony through me until my vision blurred. Through the haze, I saw Jessica grab a vase from the coffee table and bring it crashing down on my head. A bolt of sharp pain, and then I felt my forehead. My hand came away wet with blood. My appearance must have been terrifying, because Jessica and her friends finally stopped. I staggered to my feet, my eyes locked on her. A flicker of fear crossed her face, but she quickly masked it with bravado. “It’s your own fault for being a thief!” she spat. “Fine. I’ll be generous since you’re Leo’s sister. Give me back my things right now and kneel and apologize, and I’ll let this go for today.” She waved a dismissive hand and sat back down on the bed. Leo, ever the sycophant, put down his phone and began massaging her wrist. “Camille, hurry up and give her back the jewelry! See how forgiving Jessica is being?” “I didn’t steal anything!” I roared. “How can I give back something I don’t have? This whole thing was a setup by Jessica!” Leo’s eyes darted away. My heart sank. That look on his face… he knew. He was in on it. But he still pressed on. “Then just pay her back! The jewelry was worth tens of thousands. Paying her a hundred thousand in compensation is more than fair!” “Do it now,” he threatened, “or I’m calling Mom and Dad and having them throw you out!” He was so brazen, constantly holding the threat of being disowned over my head. I closed my eyes. I remembered a conversation I’d had with my parents just a few weeks ago. “Camille,” my mom had said, her voice gentle, “we adopted Leo because we felt guilty that you were so lonely as an only child, especially since we were always so busy with work.” “You two got along well enough over the years, so we let it be. But now he’s demanding to take over the company and wants us to transfer all the properties we gave you into his name.” “The boy has gotten greedy. We were thinking, since we’re already paying for his wedding, maybe it’s time to tell him the truth and have him move out.” At the time, my heart had gone soft. I’d argued against it, thinking about how Leo had lived his whole life as the Vaughn family’s young master. The shock of the truth would be too much for him. My parents had reluctantly agreed, and we dropped the matter. But today, Leo’s actions had frozen my heart solid. I made a decision. The moment I got home, I would tell my parents to kick him out. Not ruining his wedding day would be my last act of kindness as his sister. I turned and walked toward the door. Leo’s shout echoed behind me. “Camille, you dare leave without paying?” Then came the gasps of the guests. “Oh my god, I can’t believe the Vaughn’s daughter is like that behind closed doors.” I spun around in shock. Leo was holding his phone up for everyone to see, a triumphant smirk on his face. On the screen was a video… My pupils constricted.

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As the holidays approached, a group of “wildlife enthusiasts” sued me. They claimed that keeping animals in captivity was a form of abuse and, in the middle of the night, they “liberated” every animal in my zoo. A scream tore from my throat. That pack of morons will die out there! Later, a video popped up on my feed: a full-grown snow leopard, wailing miserably at a little calf. “Do you know where Mama Keeper is?” The calf trembled, backing away, which only made the snow leopard cry harder. “Mama Keeper, where are you? I’m starving to death.” 1 After graduation, I took over a small zoo. I’d just finished shooting a few promotional videos, hoping to drum up some business for the holiday season, when a court summons arrived. A group of self-proclaimed wildlife enthusiasts was taking me to court, arguing that by keeping wild animals in enclosures, I was suppressing their natural instincts. I was baffled. I run a zoo. If I’m not keeping animals, am I supposed to start keeping people? Thankfully, the judge was a reasonable person. My zoo’s paperwork was all in order, and the plaintiffs quickly lost their case. When I got back, I threw a small celebration. Leo, my snow leopard, circled my legs excitedly. “Mama, Mama, you’re the best! You didn’t let them take me away!” I buried my face in his thick fur. “Don’t you worry, I’ll always protect you. But seriously, I’m not your mom. I’m a single human woman. I couldn’t possibly give birth to a snow leopard your size.” “I don’t care. You were the first person I saw when I opened my eyes. You have to be my mom.” It was impossible to reason with a leopard cub who’d never known his own mother. And since I’ve been able to understand animals since I was a child, Leo was thoroughly convinced. Fine. He was a pathetic, fluffy orphan, so I let it slide. That night, after my rounds—tucking in the black bear who hated the cold, cuddling the clingy snow leopard, and consoling a Pallas’s cat nursing a broken heart—I finally collapsed into my own cozy bed. I woke up to armageddon. Where was my giant black bear? Gone! Kevin, who was supposed to be on night watch, was crying so hard his nose was running. “Some monsters… I only dozed off for a minute… They climbed the wall and opened all the cages!” The zoo was now a chaotic free-for-all, with animals wandering everywhere. The moment I stepped outside my door, Grandpa Sheldon, the seventy-year-old, six-hundred-pound Aldabra tortoise, lumbered past with a red panda clinging to his shell. “Little Keeper, this one’s a real handful. My ears are ringing.” I quickly scooped the red panda off his back and handed him to a keeper. “I’m so sorry, Grandpa Sheldon. I’ll get you right back to your enclosure.” The tortoise took a slow, deliberate step. “No need. It’s been ages since I had a good stroll. I think I’ll go see if that alligator who bit me is dead yet.” My eye twitched. “That was almost twenty years ago. You’re still holding a grudge?” I stepped aside just in time to lunge, grabbing a pelican that was trying to swallow a capybara whole. “How many times have I told you? You can’t eat your coworkers!” He refused to let go. “You only live once. A little taste of a coworker can’t hurt.” After rescuing the placid capybara, two white-faced sakis swung past overhead. “Good morning, Keeper! Another day, another joy!” Two freshly-made turds dropped from above, landing squarely on the head of a charging lion. “Catch us if you can, silly kitty!” The enraged lion roared, charging blindly. “You stinking monkeys! I’m going to eat you!” Grandpa Sheldon couldn’t dodge in time and was knocked onto his back, his legs flailing. He let out a weary sigh. “Oh, my old back. These young’uns have no respect these days.” It took the entire day to wrangle the frolicking animals back into their homes. Just as we thought it was over, Kevin screamed again. “The black bear, the snow leopard, and the Pallas’s cat are gone!” We pulled up last night’s security footage and saw her: Diane, the lead “wildlife enthusiast” from the lawsuit. She and a few others were sneaking up to Leo’s enclosure. Leo’s eyes shot open. He covered his head with his paws in terror. “Someone’s here to eat the leopard! Mama, help me!” 2 Diane cooed softly, “Don’t be afraid. Soon, you’ll be free.” A tranquilizer dart hissed through the air, embedding itself in Leo’s fluffy backside. They loaded him onto a waiting truck. Leo let out a pained cry. “Mama, tonight, I sail on my final voyage.” A mournful wail escaped my lips. “Leo! My sweet baby Leo, whom I raised from a bottle!” Kevin sent me the other videos. The black bear was sleeping so soundly that the tranquilizer dart didn’t even wake her. She just rolled over and kept snoring. The group had also tried to nab a giant panda, but our pandas have a habit of digging their own sleeping burrows, so the thieves came up empty-handed. The Pallas’s cat, Pip, had boarded the truck willingly. He’d been suffering from insomnia ever since his latest breakup and probably tagged along out of concern for his friends. I called the police immediately. The security cameras had caught the license plate. The police found Diane quickly. She showed no remorse. “It’s a bear’s nature to hunt. By caging them, you’re suppressing their instincts. And officer, look at what she feeds that snow leopard every day. There’s no nutritional balance. If that’s not abuse, what is?” She held up a video of a keeper feeding Leo, her voice ringing with conviction. I glanced at the video, confused. It was all fresh, high-quality meat. What was the problem? Diane’s voice rose with indignation. “You feed yourself fruits and vegetables, so why don’t you give any to the snow leopard? It’s obvious you’re just fattening him up to make a profit!” If Leo had heard that, he would have clawed her face off. He was a carnivore. “Besides,” she added smugly, “releasing animals is a good deed. I’m helping you atone for your sins.” I resisted the urge to slap her and turned to the reporters who had arrived. “The animals she stole have all been evaluated for release in the past,” I explained. “We only kept them in the zoo after determining they couldn’t survive in the wild.” Diane sneered. “They’re predators. Of course they can survive. They need to be free. Keeping them in a zoo will give them depression.” I shoved my phone in her face, playing the video that was now trending number one. In it, a grown snow leopard was wailing miserably at a little calf. He tried to pounce, but the calf kicked him twice, sending him tumbling. “Do you know where my Mama is? I’m so hungry. I miss my Mama.” Hearing his voice, tears of heartache streamed down my face. My poor Leo had never suffered a day in his life. He was so spoiled, his keepers had to cut his meat into tiny, bite-sized pieces. Chloe, a young reporter, handed me a tissue. “Don’t worry, Zoo Director. We just got a tip. The video was shot on nearby Mount Sterling.” I dried my tears, notified the Animal Protection Bureau, and rushed to the mountain. Following a tip from a local herdsman, we spent three grueling hours climbing to a midway point on the slope. Chloe had started a live stream of the rescue operation. Thanks to the viral video, her stream was flooded with viewers. 【That snow leopard really isn’t cut out for the wild. It’s being bullied by a calf!】 【What on earth does the keeper feed it? It’s so chubby.】 【So cute! Where is this zoo? I want to visit.】 An idea sparked. I jumped into the frame. “Our Crestview Zoo has been open for over forty years! We have all sorts of predators and cute critters you can see up close. And if you follow my account, tickets are only $9.99!” 【Is the director running a charity?】 【That’s so cheap! I have to go!】 In an instant, we sold over two thousand advance tickets. Chloe gave an awkward laugh and whispered, “Director, we haven’t even run our own ads yet.” I flushed, rubbing my nose. “Sorry, you go ahead.” Ever since I’d taken over the zoo, it had been a money pit. This was my first real chance to turn things around, and I got a little carried up. We soon reached the location from the video. The grass was trampled, covered in the hoofprints of cattle and the paw prints of a snow leopard. I raised a megaphone. “Leo! Leo, where are you? Mama’s here!” I shouted until my voice was hoarse, but there was no response. Then, one of the officers from the bureau called out. They had found snow leopard fur near a steep, rocky cliff. Their initial assessment was that he had fallen. 3 My heart plummeted into an abyss. I collapsed at the edge of the cliff, sobbing. “My poor Leo! An orphan since birth, never even had a girlfriend! Please come back! Mama won’t stop you from visiting Penelope next door anymore! You can have all the ice cream you want!” As I was crying my eyes out, a small calf peeked out from behind a tree. “Are you really Leo’s mom? Can you give me the secret password?” Without thinking, I replied, “Open Sesame.” The next moment, an agile snow leopard leaped out and pounced on me. “Mama, Mama, Mama! I knew it was you! I knew you’d come save me!” He tried to shove his entire head into my arms, his big, rough tongue licking away my tears. “Mama, Mama, Mama! Can I really go play with Penelope? And I want ten ice creams!” I grabbed his tongue. “Why didn’t you answer when I called?” Leo puffed out his chest proudly. “You always taught me, Mama. Never answer when a stranger calls your name, and never go with a stranger. You have to get the password right.” I was so exasperated I could have throttled him. I pounded on his back a few times. The little calf trotted over and kicked Leo with its hoof. “You said your mom was super tall and strong, and could take out my mom with one punch.” I silently handed the calf two beef jerky sticks and shooed it down the mountain to find its mother. The calf’s eyes lit up. “What is this? It’s delicious!” Leo started meowing with envy. “Mama, I want some too! A big piece!” The live stream chat was going wild. 【What an adorable snow leopard! He’s so cuddly.】 【Feeding beef jerky to a calf? The director is one of a kind.】 【Finally found one! That was tough. Now just the black bear left, that’s the dangerous one.】 Chloe stared at Leo’s sleek, glossy coat, her eyes full of envy. With my permission, she started petting him with both hands. Leo looked utterly resigned. “Mama, can I suddenly turn and scare her?” Just then, a breathless officer from the Animal Protection Bureau ran up, asking about the size of the missing black bear. When he learned that the bear, Honey, was seven feet tall, weighed eight hundred pounds, and was currently in heat, his face grew grave. “We found scraps of clothing and bear tracks nearby.” “We suspect,” he said grimly, “that this bear has killed someone.” I quickly waved my hands. Honey had been raised by a young female keeper since she was a cub. She was so gentle, you could hit her three times and she wouldn’t even make a peep. Even in heat, she wouldn’t attack a person without provocation. The officer held up a plaster cast of a paw print. “Are you sure the bear from your zoo weighs eight hundred pounds?” “Of course,” I said. “Honey just had a check-up a few days ago.” “Well,” he said, “the tracks we’re measuring suggest a bear weighing at least twelve hundred pounds.” 4 Leo’s fur instantly stood on end. He pressed himself against my leg, trembling. “Mama, I told you Honey would eat people! It has to be her! She’s always so mean! She’s not going to eat me, is she? Mama, save me!” I couldn’t take it anymore. I gave Leo a firm slap on the snout. “She was ‘mean’ to you because you were constipated and your poop smelled so bad you nearly made her pass out. And for your information, Honey couldn’t eat four hundred pounds of anything in one sitting.” But Leo’s simple brain wasn’t processing. He tugged at my clothes, wailing. “Honey must have eaten several people! It’s over! We’re all going to die today! And I haven’t even had a date with Penelope!” I clamped my hand over his mouth and looked at the officer. “We can’t be sure if there are any casualties yet,” the officer said. “We haven’t received any reports of missing people from the nearby villages. But one thing is certain: Honey isn’t the only black bear on this mountain.” Facing one zoo-raised black bear was one thing. Adding a much larger wild one to the mix escalated the danger exponentially. Especially since Honey had grown up in captivity, the bureau’s team had only brought tranquilizer guns. The atmosphere grew tense. The number of viewers on the live stream skyrocketed. 【Black bears really eat people!】 【I’m an expert: if you see a black bear, don’t run. Lie on the ground and play dead. That way you can die with some dignity.】 【This is no time for jokes. I saw a post saying two kids from the village went missing. I think they came up this mountain.】 My heart sank when I saw that comment. An adult would know to stay away from a bear, but a child? A curious kid might not recognize the danger. Seeing a gentle bear like Honey, they might even try to play with her. And out of instinct, Honey might attack to defend herself. Just then, an officer’s phone rang. It was confirmed: two children had wandered into the mountains. On the other end of the line, their parents were crying hysterically. The bureau team, which had been hesitating, made a decision. They were going up. “We’ve requested firearms from headquarters, but lives are at stake. Two children on this mountain is too dangerous. We’re continuing the search.” He then turned to me. “Director, for safety, we’ll need you to come with us.” I nodded. At the very least, I could try to control Honey if we found her. With a plan in place, our group assembled and followed the bear tracks deeper into the mountain.

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