Category: English

The first thing I did after I woke up in this second chance was stop bringing my attending physician husband his late-night coffee. He would be rounding on the fifth floor, so I’d make sure I was scheduled in the ER. In my past life, I knew he only married me for the coveted fellowship spot my mentor held, yet I insisted on walking down the aisle with him. I thought a cold heart could eventually be thawed. Instead, he kept me at an arm’s length for decades. When I tried to initiate intimacy, he’d shove a copy of The New England Journal of Medicine into my hands: “Read up on your professional literature, Sierra. Don’t go embarrassing me in front of colleagues.” I once gathered the courage to kiss him, fueled by a glass of wine, but he merely stiffened, his voice a flat monotone: “This is a biological obligation of marriage.” Decades later, on my deathbed, I found his journal. I read his final words in his journal: This marriage was a cage. If I get another life, I pray I am never again bound to Sierra. My heart was shredded, the pain blinding me as I closed my eyes. When I opened them again, I was back. Back to the day the rumors started about him and the new surgical resident. This time, I didn’t cry. I didn’t rail. I simply filed for divorce. 1 The words left my lips, and for the first time in our marriage, Marcus’s perfectly unruffled facade finally cracked. Beside him, Brynn—the new resident—her smug smirk froze solid, immediately replaced by a look of agonizing remorse. “Nurse Sierra, please, don’t misunderstand.” “Marcus simply respects my capability. Our relationship is strictly professional.” “I came here with him to clear this up. You can take all your anger out on me!” She bent her knees, making a show of collapsing onto the floor. Marcus instantly caught her, then whipped his head around and glared at me. “Sierra! Are you finished with this melodrama? It’s a minor workplace misunderstanding. You have no right to humiliate her like this. Apologize to Dr. Brynn, now!” I hadn’t said a word, yet I was already the small-minded, irrational culprit. In my last life, every time I clashed with Brynn, I was the one who was wrong. Marcus always stood on Brynn’s side, turning every disagreement into a screaming match that made me the laughingstock of the floor. Everyone said I, the diploma-mill nurse, was too petty, my ‘dignity’ too small. “Apologize for what? I haven’t said a word,” I asked, meeting his harsh gaze. “If her knees are that weak, she can drop. I’m not her chiropractor.” Brynn hadn’t expected the sudden reversal of roles, nor my biting reply. Her eyes immediately welled up, and she continued her performance: “Nurse Sierra, you have to believe me. Marcus and I are truly just—” I was done watching her act. I cut her off. “Stop. I’m filing for divorce. I’m clearing the way for you, aren’t I?” My gaze dropped, landing on the delicate silver bracelet on her wrist. “If things are so ‘strictly professional,’ how is it that the bracelet Marcus saved four months’ salary for is on your arm?” “Some roles, Dr. Brynn, are oversold.” She recoiled as if burned, pulling her hand back instantly. I knew that bracelet. The day he bought it, he hid it deep in a drawer, like a sacred artifact. He even sewed a little velvet pouch for it himself, pricking his hands multiple times—a man who never touched a needle and thread. I was such an idiot. I thought, Our anniversary is coming up. Maybe this is the first time he’s prepared a gift for me. I waited, filled with a foolish, desperate anticipation. On our anniversary, I waited from dusk till late, the soup I’d made long since cold. I finally saw him and Brynn walking side-by-side beneath the streetlights. The look he gave her was a tenderness I had never received, an expression utterly foreign to me. And on Brynn’s wrist, she was proudly showing off that bracelet. Now, Marcus refused to meet my eyes. “It was a birthday gift for Dr. Brynn a few weeks ago. You’re overthinking this.” Even though I was already determined to let go, his words felt like shards of glass in my heart. Five years of marriage, and he had never once remembered my birthday. He’d known Brynn for two months. I remembered the lines from his journal: Every moment I spent with her was anguish and torture. The last flicker of defiance and hope died, leaving behind only an infinite weariness. “I am genuinely serious about this divorce.” I looked him in the eye and said quietly, “Marcus, let’s free each other.” Marcus didn’t return home that night, choosing instead to sleep in the on-call room at the hospital. I didn’t seek him out. Instead, I began preparing my resignation papers. The news spread through the hospital like wildfire. The gazes I received were a mixture of mockery and pity. “Did you hear? Sierra’s out.” “Must be because Dr. Brynn and the Attending are finally together.” “She’s a diploma nurse, only common sense she’d know when to fold.” Because Marcus never wanted to publicize our marriage, everyone assumed I was just some distant, easily dismissed relative. I’d wanted to correct them countless times, but fearing I might jeopardize his ascent, I always stayed silent. Hearing the whispers now, I merely offered a faint smile. “You’re right. This toad is done trying to eat the prince’s apple. This nurse gig is a dead end. Time for a change of scenery.” They didn’t know I wasn’t conceding defeat; I was just changing the game. In the previous life, I tried desperately to earn his respect, clawing my way up to head nurse. But even as Head Nurse, in his eyes, I was still the same insignificant woman who fetched coffee. He’d rather talk to the goldfish tank at home than exchange a civil word with me. This life, I was going to live for myself. I had planned to wait until my resignation was finalized, then find Marcus and sign the papers, cutting all ties. But one phone call shattered that plan. My father had a severe stroke and was in the ICU. He needed an emergency deposit of twenty thousand dollars. My hands and feet went instantly cold. I would receive a substantial severance package from my resignation, but that process would take a month! My father didn’t have a month. Just then, I spotted Marcus walking out of the outpatient clinic. In that moment, everything—my dignity, my plan, my anger—dissolved into pure panic. I bolted forward, blocking his path. “Marcus, I need twenty thousand dollars, immediately.” All surrounding eyes locked onto us, filled with curiosity and judgment. The smile instantly vanished from Marcus’s face. “Twenty thousand? I don’t have that kind of cash on hand.” That was impossible. Every month, out of my modest paycheck, I gave him $2,500 for ‘savings,’ only keeping a fixed amount for household expenses. Even if he was extravagant, he couldn’t have blown through all of it. My eyes burned with desperation, my voice shaking with a plea I hadn’t known I had: “My dad collapsed. A stroke. He’s in the hospital right now, waiting for the money to start his treatment! I really need this! My entire savings—five years of paychecks—are in your account. How can it be gone?” Marcus’s brow furrowed deeper. The stares of his colleagues made his face hot with embarrassment. He lowered his voice, the impatience in his tone barely suppressed. “Sierra, are you done making a scene? I told you, I don’t have it!” I stared at him, my heart sinking inch by painful inch. “Two thousand five hundred dollars a month, for five years. That’s a hundred and fifty thousand dollars. How can you not have twenty thousand available?” Marcus’s eyes flashed with annoyance, his face cold. “You spent plenty on yourself, didn’t you? You know how much you’ve frittered away.” His colleagues snickered, their derisive murmurs rising. “Wow, spends his money and then demands twenty grand back. She’s shameless.” “I bet she’s just trying to cause trouble because of Dr. Brynn.” I looked at Marcus. He was doing what he always did—saying nothing in my defense, even though he knew I hadn’t touched his money. I understood. He was punishing me. Punishing me for daring to file for divorce and for stripping him of his ego. But my father was dying. I couldn’t wait. I swallowed the bitterness in my throat and asked, my voice hoarse: “What do you want? What will it take for you to give me the money?” He seemed satisfied by my submission, his chin lifting slightly. “Go apologize to Dr. Brynn. On your knees.” “Then I’ll give you the money.” Brynn stood nearby, her expression a mask of false gentleness. My knuckles were white, my nails digging into my palms. For my father, I would endure it. I bowed, a full ninety degrees, and squeezed out the humiliating words: “Dr. Brynn, I apologize. I was wrong to have misunderstood you the other day.” Brynn immediately stepped forward to offer a false embrace, but her words were laced with acid: “Nurse Sierra, you shouldn’t feel you have to. I never blamed you. Even though you constantly slander me behind my back and destroy my reputation in the hospital, we are colleagues. I can rise above it.” I snapped my head up. She was twisting the truth completely! Marcus’s face darkened, and he roared, “Sierra! You are truly despicable! How can you treat a colleague like this? Get on your knees and beg her forgiveness!” “I didn’t do that!” I cried out, the humiliation burning. “Still lying?” Marcus’s face was set, his eyes filled with disgust and disbelief. The surrounding colleagues began to jeer. “Yeah, make her kneel! Make her kneel!” “If she won’t, kick her out of the hospital!” Two male doctors, always eager to curry favor with the rising star, stepped forward and tried to forcibly shove me to the ground. I struggled fiercely, tears of shame blurring my vision. Marcus’s indifferent voice drifted over to me: “Don’t want that twenty thousand anymore?” Instantly, all the fight drained out of me. I stopped struggling and let them shove me down. The muffled thud of my forehead hitting the hard tile floor was accompanied by the sound of laughter.

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1 Fresh out of college, I had an idea. “Let’s all rent a place together,” I suggested to my three roommates. The apartment I found was a steal—close to my new job, surprisingly cheap, and a world away from the cramped suburban box they were currently renting. It was a massive upgrade. For three months, everything was perfect. We were a happy little family. Then one day, I came home from work early and heard them talking in the living room. “I looked it up,” one of them said, her voice sharp with excitement. “Rent in this neighborhood is at least five grand a month. We’re paying two thousand for the whole place. What if we rent out the master bedroom for two grand? Then our three rooms would basically be free.” “Done,” another voice snapped. “Why does Anna get the master suite anyway? So what if she covers the utilities? How much can that possibly be?” “I’m so sick of her holier-than-thou attitude,” the third one chimed in with a spiteful laugh. “The thought of her, homeless and out on the street… I could die laughing!” I smiled to myself on the other side of the door. You want to see me on the street? Too bad for them. I’m the owner. … The voices inside continued, blissfully unaware. “Anyway, the lease is up in three days. We just tell her we’re not renewing with her.” “Haha, serves her right. Always bossing us around, acting like she owns the place.” “And that whole story about it being her ‘relative’s apartment,’ and that’s why it’s so cheap and we have to ‘take care of it’? Who buys that crap?” “I already contacted the landlord. He said we can have it for the next term, same price.” Just like that, my fate was decided. They seemed to have forgotten everything. How, fresh out of college, they were too broke to afford anything near the city. How they were crammed into a tiny place in the far-off suburbs, waking up at four in the morning for a grueling three-hour commute of buses and trains. It was me who couldn’t stand to see them suffer. It was me who lied, saying a relative had a cheap place available, and invited them to move in. The truth? This apartment was a graduation gift from my parents. A four-bedroom, two-bath prime piece of real estate right next to my office. A five-minute walk to work. I could have rented it out in a heartbeat. But my parents always taught me to be discreet about our wealth. So I never told them I was the owner. I charged them a token rent of five hundred dollars each and covered all the utilities and building fees myself. And this was my reward. My kindness, thrown back in my face like trash. Taking a deep breath, I pushed the door open. The laughter in the room died instantly. The air went still. Lily was the first to recover, stretching her lips into a fake, bright smile. “Anna! You’re home early. Have you eaten? We made some pasta, come have some.” She pulled me into a chair at the dining table. After clearing her throat, she began her little performance. “So, Anna… the landlord called. He was asking if we’re planning to renew the lease.” I just slurped my pasta, saying nothing. She watched my face, trying to read my expression, before continuing. “We’ve decided not to.” My hand paused. I looked up, feigning confusion. “We found a cheaper place,” she said, her eyes darting away from mine. “You only wanted to room with us because you couldn’t afford the whole rent on your own, right? So now that we’re leaving, you’ll probably move out too, won’t you?” My voice was flat. “It’s fine. If you guys leave, I’ll just take over the whole lease. I finished a big project at work, so I’m getting a nice bonus.” Lily’s smile faltered. “But… it’s such a big place for one person. Isn’t that a waste? Listen to me, you should find a small studio. You’d save so much money.” If I hadn’t heard their little scheme with my own ears, I might have actually believed she was concerned about me. “I’m used to it here,” I said simply. “Too lazy to move.” “Anna!” Jenna, who had been silent until now, finally exploded. She slammed her fork down on the table. “I was trying to be nice, but you’re just not getting the hint!” “So let me spell it out for you. We don’t want to live with you anymore. We want you to move out on your own, so don’t force us to get ugly about it!” I stared at her, my expression cold. “I found this apartment. I signed the contract. Why should I be the one to leave just because you say so?” Ava, who had been quiet the whole time, finally spoke. “Anna, living with you… it’s been really difficult. If we keep this up, I’m afraid we won’t even be friends anymore.” Ava was supposed to be my best friend. Her background was tough. Her mom left right after she was born, and her father was a gambling addict who’d beat her when he was drunk. She fought tooth and nail to get into college, but her dad wanted to marry her off to some old creep for cash. I was the one who helped her escape in the middle of the night, who walked her through applying for student loans, who split my allowance with her for four years so she could get by. After graduation, I couldn’t bear the thought of her tiny frame being crushed on the subway every day. That’s why I suggested we live together. I even invited the other two, just so she wouldn’t feel like she was accepting my charity. Ava bit her lip, her eyes pleading. “You always wanted what was best for me. Just agree to move out this one time. We can still be best friends.” I looked at her, my face a blank mask. Then, I smiled. “Fine,” I said. “I’ll move.” Their faces lit up. They started babbling about how we’d still be great friends, even after I was gone. I didn’t want to hear another word. I turned and walked back to my room. The moment the door clicked shut, I pulled out my phone and dialed my property manager, Mr. Henderson. “The rent is going up to six thousand a month.” It didn’t take long for a knock to sound on my door. I opened it to find the three of them standing there, their faces contorted with rage. Jenna shoved me hard. “You called the landlord and told him to raise the rent, didn’t you!” My back hit the corner of a desk, and a sharp pain shot through me. Ava’s eyes were red. “How about this,” she said, her voice laced with a false sense of compromise. “You go talk to your ‘relative’ and get him to keep the rent at two thousand. And you give us the master bedroom. If you do that, we’ll still be willing to live with you.” I crossed my arms, looking at her coldly. “And where would I sleep?” “On the couch, obviously,” Lily answered, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “So I pay rent to sleep on the couch?” “Get it through your head,” Jenna sneered. “You’re the one begging to stay with us. You should be grateful we’re even offering you the couch.” Ava linked her arm through mine, her tone sickeningly sweet. “We’re best friends, Anna. Of course I’m looking out for you.” “I’ve already found you a new place. It’s fully furnished, you can move in right away. And the best part? It’s only thirty feet from the office. Perfect for a workaholic like you.” “Where?” She covered her mouth, stifling a giggle. “Rex’s doghouse.” “It’s right by the security guard’s booth at the office. How’s that for a short commute? And in the winter, Rex can keep your bed warm for free!” Jenna snickered. “Wow, Ava, and you call yourself her best friend? Sending her to a doghouse, that’s just cold! But hey…” Her eyes landed on me, a malicious grin spreading across her face. “Don’t forget to pay Ava a finder’s fee, Anna! A move-in ready place like that is hard to come by, hahaha!” Ava waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, it’s nothing. What are friends for?” I watched their little performance, my blood turning to ice. I didn’t say a word. Ava’s face suddenly turned serious. “Anna, living with you has been exhausting. You’re such a control freak. We can’t hang anything on the walls, we can’t decorate our own rooms, you even nag us if a single hair falls on the floor. We can’t take it anymore.” “You’ve practically given me depression. So, you should probably pay our rent for the next quarter. Consider it compensation for our emotional distress.” I almost laughed out loud. I didn’t want them putting things on the walls because the latex paint was a custom color; if it was damaged, it would be impossible to match perfectly. I didn’t want them “decorating” because their brilliant idea was to knock down a load-bearing wall to make their room bigger. And I complained about the hair because they never, ever cleaned the drain after showering. Their hair had clogged the pipes so badly it flooded the apartment below us, and I had to secretly pay a fortune to sort it out. In the six months they’d lived here, the money I’d spent fixing their messes and covering costs far exceeded the pittance they paid in rent. And now, they wanted me to pay them for emotional distress. Hilarious. “Either you move out, or I do and you can pay the full six thousand a month yourselves.” With that, I slammed the door in their faces. From the other side, I heard their furious shouts. “Anna, you’re pushing your luck!” “Don’t make us do something you’ll regret!” The next day, I didn’t get home from work until eleven at night. When I reached my front door, I froze. My belongings were piled in the hallway like a heap of garbage. I tried my key code again and again, but the door wouldn’t open. They had changed the lock. A hot wave of fury washed over me. I pulled out my phone and called my dad. “Dad, can you call a courier service? I need something delivered here, right now…” After hanging up, I started pounding on the door. The loud bangs echoed through the quiet hallway. It didn’t take long for doors to open. Neighbors, annoyed by the noise, poked their heads out, demanding to know what was going on. Someone even called security. As a crowd gathered, the door finally clicked open. Jenna stood there in her pajamas, a face mask on, frowning. “What the hell are you screaming about? I’m trying to get my beauty sleep.” I clenched my fists, forcing my voice to stay even. I pointed to the mountain of my things on the floor. “What gives you the right to throw my stuff out?” Ava appeared behind her, casting a timid glance in my direction. “Anna, we didn’t have a choice… Please, just give us a break…” She then shot a look at Lily. Lily immediately understood. She turned to the growing crowd of neighbors and the security guard, her voice loud and dramatic. “Uncles, aunts, everyone, please, be the judge! We all rent this apartment together, and she brings different men home every single night! The noises they make… the things they do… it’s so loud we can’t get any sleep.” She turned back to me, her eyes pleading. “We know you have a… special kind of job, that you have to work at night, and we don’t judge you for it. But we have to get up early for work! Please, we’re begging you, find somewhere else to live.” The moment the words left her mouth, the way the neighbors looked at me changed. Their curiosity turned to disgust, as if I were something filthy. Ava bowed deeply to the crowd, her face a mask of apology. “We’re so sorry to disturb you all. Her lease is up, and we already told her we wouldn’t be renewing with her. The landlord doesn’t want her here either. But she just refuses to leave. We had no other choice… We’re truly sorry for waking everyone.” Whispers rippled through the crowd. “She looks like such a nice girl, I can’t believe she does that…” “No wonder she comes home so late every night…” “How unlucky to live on the same floor as her!” A middle-aged woman pointed a finger at me, her voice shrill with anger. “Was it you who was blasting music and jumping around the other night? The bass was shaking my whole apartment! I didn’t get a wink of sleep!” I was out of town on a business trip all last week. I had only just gotten back yesterday. A flicker of guilt crossed Jenna’s face, but she quickly pointed at me. “Yes! That was her!” Another neighbor stepped forward. “And was it your long hair that clogged the drains and flooded my bathroom downstairs?” Ava, the one with the longest hair who never cleaned the drain, froze for a second before turning to me with a frown. “Anna, I’ve told you so many times to clean your hair out of the shower. Why don’t you ever listen?” “Was she the one who wanted to knock down a load-bearing wall? She nearly turned the whole building into a death trap!” Lily, who had dreamed of expanding her room by smashing through a wall, just nodded grimly. “That’s right, it was her! We tried to stop her, but she wouldn’t listen!” The neighbors’ anger was fully ignited. “She’s a menace! Get her out of our building!” “Security! Throw her out!” “Call the police! Get her arrested!” The security guard, seeing the mob mentality taking over, grabbed my arm and started to pull me away. I was furious, desperate. “I’m the owner of this apartment!” I yelled. “You have no right to throw me out!” Jenna let out a derisive snort. “If you’re the owner, then I’m the Queen of England!” Ava looked at me with pity. “Anna, I’ve already called the landlord. He’s on his way. If you leave now, you can still keep a little dignity. It’s going to be much worse when he gets here and kicks you out himself.” I was shaking with rage. “Fine! Get your ‘landlord’ here! I’d love to see how he plans on kicking me out of my own home!” “Who’s looking for me?” I turned to see a blond punk, radiating cheap arrogance, swaggering through the crowd. “I’m the landlord. You got a problem?” he asked, his eyes raking over me dismissively. “Where’s Mr. Henderson?” I demanded, frowning. My property had always been managed by him, and he was nothing but professional. “So you did your homework, huh? You even know my uncle’s name. Well, I’ll tell you. My uncle’s out of town. This place,” he jabbed a thumb at my apartment, “is my responsibility now.” He pointed a finger in my face. “I’ve heard all about you from these lovely ladies. I don’t rent my property to filthy, immoral people like you! If you know what’s good for you, you’ll grab your junk and get lost!” I stared him down. “Do you even know whose name is on the property deed? And you have the nerve to tell me to get lost?” “It’s my uncle’s place, so of course his name is on the deed! Whose else would it be? Yours?” the punk scoffed. Ava stepped forward. “Anna, just stop. The landlord is here. It’s over.” The punk ignored me, strutting into the apartment. He did a quick tour and came back out, his face twisted in a snarl. “Hey! Where’s that big Lego set that was on the TV stand? Did you steal it?” “That was a limited edition set! Worth twenty thousand dollars! You better hand it over right now!” That Lego set? My little niece loved it when she visited last week, so I gave it to her. “It was my property. Do I need your permission to give away my own things?” “Your property? That belongs to the landlord… my uncle!” the punk sputtered, practically hopping with fake rage. Lily immediately jumped in to support him. “We can vouch for that! That Lego set has been there since we moved in. How could it be yours? It obviously belongs to the landlord!” Ava frowned. “Anna, you should really try to get it back. Stealing is a crime. If the landlord calls the police, you’ll be in serious trouble.” I watched them, a symphony of lies, and felt a wave of disgusted disbelief. “Then call the police,” I said. My calm indifference was the final straw. “You bitch! Stealing and you’re still this arrogant!” His hand flew out, and a sharp sting exploded across my cheek. A loud smack echoed in the hallway. My ears rang, and I could taste the metallic tang of blood in my mouth. Ava stepped in, stopping the punk from hitting me again. “Let it go, let it go. It’s probably hard to get back something you’ve already given away. Anna, why don’t you just pay for it? Since the landlord says it’s worth twenty thousand, just give him the money. You… you make money easily, right? A little sum like that is nothing to you. Just pay him and this will all be over.” I had to laugh. The Lego set looked impressive, but it was a model kit I bought for three hundred dollars. It all clicked into place. The glances between them and this punk. This was a setup. They were in this together, trying to extort money from me. Seeing my lack of reaction, the punk shoved me again. “Hey! Did you hear me? Pay up! Or I’m calling the cops and having you thrown in jail for a few years!” “I told you, it was my property!” “Goddamn it, you just don’t learn!” he snarled, raising his hand to slap me again. He hit me so hard I stumbled and fell, my vision swimming with black spots. Jenna’s eyes darted around, then she pointed at my luggage. “She’s a thief! I better check my things, make sure she didn’t steal anything of mine!” She crouched down and started rummaging through my suitcase. She pulled out a gold necklace, a flash of envy in her eyes. She held it up for everyone to see. “Oh my god! My gold necklace! I’ve been looking for this for ages! I can’t believe it was in your suitcase!” “Ava, Lily! Come look! I bet she stole a ton of our stuff!” At her words, Lily’s eyes lit up, and she joined the plunder. Like vultures, they tore through my belongings, pulling out jewelry and brand-name makeup, claiming each item as their own and stuffing them into their pockets. The other neighbors, seeing this, started to get restless. Ava smiled sweetly at the crowd. “Uncles, aunts, maybe you should all have a look too. See if she’s taken anything of yours.” That was all it took. The crowd swarmed forward like a plague of locusts. CRASH! The trophy I won in a college competition was knocked to the floor and shattered. RIIIP! The sweater my mother had hand-knitted for me was torn apart. My down jacket was slashed open, and feathers filled the air like a bizarre snowstorm. I even saw a greasy-looking man pick up a pair of my underwear, take a deep, disturbing sniff, and shove it into his pocket. “Stop! All of you, stop!” I screamed and lunged forward, only to be shoved back to the ground. Ava stood over me, a look of pure, innocent malice on her face. “You know,” she said conversationally, “I wonder if she’s hiding the rest of the stolen goods on her person.” Every eye in the hallway swiveled to me. The blond punk licked his lips. “Strip her! Let’s see what she’s hiding under there!” “You touch me,” I snarled, “and I swear I will make you regret it for the rest of your life!” “Ooh, I’m so scared,” he mocked. “Let’s see what you’re gonna do.” He reached for the collar of my shirt. I fought back with everything I had, but Jenna and Lily pinned my arms and legs down. Ava raised her phone, capturing me at my most broken and helpless. She mouthed two words at me, a silent, vicious curse. You. Deserve. This. In that moment, a tidal wave of regret crashed over me. I had invited these wolves into my home.

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Three years after being taken back home, I jumped from a high-rise. My soul floated in the air, wanting to see how my parents and brother, who had always despised me, would weep bitterly and regret their actions. But my father only shook his head indifferently, looked at my body, and said one word: “Childish.” My mother pursed her lips, sighing in relief as if a heavy burden had been lifted. My brother blocked the fake heiress’s view, sparing her the sight of my gruesome death. However, the fake heiress was still scared to tears, prompting the whole family to hug and comfort her immediately. I stared for a long time, then let out a self-deprecating, relieved laugh. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the moment I was first brought home. 01 Realizing I had been reborn, I sat in silence for a long time. My parents in front of me, eyes red, were talking about how much they missed me over the years and their guilt towards me. They had missed me for ten years! In my previous life, I was moved to tears, threw myself into their arms, and naively thought I had a home. I had people who loved me! However, three years later, I was tearing at my own hair, crying and screaming, jumping off a building in front of them, trying to exchange my death for a shred of their love. But, no one had ever loved me. So, at this moment, I felt nothing, calm as a log. “Sweetie, are you still not used to this? It’s okay, Mom will take you to pick a room first. Choose any one you like!” Seeing my silence, my mom pulled my hand and walked towards the third floor. My dad followed with a smile, while calling my brother, Liam, urging him to come home quickly. Liam only replied with one word: “Busy.” My dad was displeased. My mom looked a bit embarrassed and explained to me: “Your brother is a busy man. Most of the group’s affairs are handed over to him. He can only come back on weekends.” In my previous life, I believed it. In this life, I didn’t care. Believing it was fine. On the third floor, every room was brightly decorated, full of warmth and girlish charm. “Aurora, choose. You can live in any room!” My dad said with a smile. My gaze locked onto the one closest to the stairs. Inside, on the bed, sat a fluffy panda. In my previous life, I was attracted at first glance. Mistakenly thinking my parents loved me very much, I chose that room directly. I liked that panda. However, my parents’ expressions changed slightly. They exchanged a look and quickly smiled: “Aurora, forgot to tell you, this is your sister Bella’s room. “Bella is very sensible. She specifically cleared her room and said you could choose it too. You should live in this most spacious one…” I blinked then, grateful: “Sister gave me her room? She’s so nice.” I still liked that panda, and that room. My parents exchanged looks again, hesitating to speak. But I, overjoyed, had already run in and hugged the panda without hesitation. Just then, Bella came back with her schoolbag. 02 Bella was the same age as me, 15. She was much more mature than me, not as naive and ignorant. Seeing me barge into her room, she pursed her lips and forced a dimpled smile: “Heard sister is back, I took leave to rush back. Sister likes this room? Then you stay here.” After speaking, she bit her lip and looked away. My parents took in all her changes. My mom rushed in to pull me: “Aurora, choose another room. This one is too big, I don’t think it’s good.” “Why isn’t it good?” I was confused. I also subtly sensed the change in atmosphere. But how could I understand what was wrong back then? My parents cried for me, loved me so much. Bella voluntarily cleared the room for me to choose. Clearly, I was their biological daughter. Was it wrong to choose a room I liked? So, I was full of questions. My mom’s expression changed again, hesitating. My dad became much more stern, also silent. Bella came over to help me make the bed: “Sister, you stay here. This home is yours, stay wherever you want.” 03 I stayed. In the village, I only dealt with pots, pans, and fields. Coming to the city, I still only knew how to deal with pots, pans, and fields. But in the city, there were no pots, pans, and fields. So, I didn’t understand what was wrong. I stayed in Bella’s room for only half a day before being dragged out by my brother Liam who rushed back. He was furious, dragging me, who was reading, to the door, scolding with hatred: “Do you have any manners? This is Bella’s room. You occupy the magpie’s nest, have you no shame!” I was stunned, not just because it was the first time meeting my brother. But because I couldn’t understand, how did I occupy the magpie’s nest? I was scared and called for Mom and Dad. My parents rushed up. Liam attacked first: “Mom, Dad, how did you arrange this? This is Bella’s room. Treating them differently like this, aren’t you chilling Bella’s heart?” “This…” My parents looked conflicted, not knowing what to say. I keenly caught the flash of anger in my mom’s eyes. That was the look directed at me. I froze. I was very familiar with this look. My dead adoptive father liked to look at me like this when he was alive. Mom was angry at me! It turned out, I was really the magpie. 04 The magpie stood carefully on the wire, enduring year after year. Finally, jumped off the high building. It was so stupid. In this life, I can’t be stupid anymore. In this life, I want to not fight, not grab, not cry, not make noise, and of course, not love them anymore. I smiled very faintly in my heart and pointed to the smallest room at the far end. “I want that one.” My parents were stunned, then showed relieved expressions, pretending to blame: “That’s the storage room. Why choose that? Pick again.” “I’m used to living in small rooms, feels safer.” My tone carried a hint of self-mockery. My parents sighed and agreed. They just agreed so smoothly to let their biological daughter, who returned after ten years of separation, live in the storage room. The fake heiress Bella came back at the right time. She ran upstairs, clearly surprised to see me entering the storage room. I glanced at her, calm. She thought I didn’t know. She deliberately put a panda in her room to lure me into choosing it. From the first day I came home, I fell into her carefully laid trap. She spent three years fighting with me for the family’s love and won completely. And I, used death to realize a truth. The best way to get love is to love yourself. 05 I moved into the storage room and closed the door. Bella brought the panda doll over: “Sister, giving you a doll, you must like it.” “I don’t like dolls, thanks.” I responded through the door, taking out the textbooks I brought from the countryside. At the moment of rebirth, I had a plan. I want to love myself. There are many ways to love oneself. For the current me, achieving success and being independent is the best way. “Does sister not like me? Also true, I’m the one occupying the magpie’s nest…” Bella said dejectedly outside the door. Seemingly talking to me, but actually for the parents to hear. The parents were still there. Sure enough, my mom quickly comforted her: “Your sister is probably just tired and needs rest. Don’t overthink it.” My dad also spoke: “Bella, don’t overthink. In this home, no one is occupying the magpie’s nest.” Actually, there is. It’s me.

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It was three in the afternoon when Rory Lynn, the newest hire, suddenly @-mentioned me in the company-wide chat—a group with hundreds of people. [That bitch at desk 203, can you stop drumming on your keyboard? The vibration is giving me a stomachache!] [My baby is trying to sleep in here. If your noise gives him a concussion, I’ll make sure your whole family pays the price!] I immediately explained that I was rushing a critical proposal and, for the record, I was using a silent keyboard. But she wouldn’t hear it. I patiently tried to reason with her a few times, and to avoid any further conflict, I even requested permission to move my laptop out to the hallway to work. I never imagined that a week later, she would burst into the break room, a steaming kettle of freshly boiled water in her hand, and pour it over my head. I collapsed into the scalding puddle, skin peeling and shredded, yet she still slammed her high heel down on my head like a lunatic, crying hysterically: “It’s your fault! I miscarried! Your keyboard noise killed my son!!” My vision blurred, and I finally lost consciousness—never understanding, even as I died, how a silent keyboard could kill a person. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day she first cursed me out in the group chat. Faced with her familiar abuse, I didn’t back down this time. I fired back immediately, my tone cold and sharp: “Stop acting like a pregnant woman! Your damn rooster is bigger than mine!” 1 The message hit the group, and the hundreds of people who had been enthusiastically discussing strategies immediately fell silent. A few seconds later, Rory Lynn’s messages exploded, flooding the screen: [Anya Reed, what in God’s name are you talking about, you rotten bitch? I’m three months pregnant! My ultrasound reports are right here! How dare you slander me?!] [Everyone, look! Anya Reed at 203 is just a barren cow who can’t stand to see anyone else have a baby!] [@HR @Mr. Harrison, if people like this work here, I’m calling the police! This is defamation! This is a personal attack!] Rory pitched a dramatic fit, and the moment she did, my colleagues rushed to her defense, their accusations pointed squarely at me. Brenda from the Design Department: [Anya, you’ve gone too far. How could you say something like that to a pregnant woman? That mouth is poison!] Another person tried to placate Rory: [Rory, calm down for the sake of the baby. Maybe Anya was just making a terrible joke.] Rory wasn’t about to let it go: [A joke? Who makes a joke like that? I have nothing to say to her! She’s just jealous I married well and have my husband’s child in my belly!] [My pregnancy is already high-risk! The doctor told me to stay on strict bed rest!] [And this whore is over here pounding on her keyboard like a damn jackhammer! If anything happens to my baby, I’m going to skin her alive!] Other colleagues in the building started chiming in: [Seriously, Rory said she felt ill. Can’t you just be quiet?] [It’s already late afternoon. Can’t that proposal wait until tomorrow? Why are you picking a fight with a pregnant woman?] Watching them twist the truth, I started laughing—a cold, humorless sound. In my previous life, that’s exactly how they had systematically driven me into a corner. I explained countless times that I had a silent keyboard, and I worked in the stairwell just to accommodate her. Yet, my reward was her pouring boiling water over me, scalding me from head to toe. Before I died, my skin was burned off, my skull fractured by her heel, and Rory Lynn’s deranged face was the last thing I ever saw. I closed my eyes, the scorching pain of the boiling water still a phantom brand on my soul. Rage and hatred churned in my chest. Rory was still furiously @-mentioning me in the chat: [Cat got your tongue? Why aren’t you talking, you cheap whore? Are you feeling guilty?] [Are you doing this on purpose? You don’t want me to have peace, do you? I finally got pregnant, and you’re trying to kill my son, aren’t you?] [If anything happens to him, can you pay for it? Will you pay with your life?] “Pay with my life?” “Should I pay for the shit you’re going to give birth to?” I stared at those three words, unable to contain my fury any longer. I went to the chat and dropped a voice message in a low, chilling tone: “Fine. Come over here right now. If you dare to drop your pants in front of the entire company, I, Anya Reed, will jump off this building right here and now, to pay for your son’s life!” 2 My voice message detonated the entire company. The chat was silent for a full minute. Then, a commotion erupted near my cubicle. I looked up and saw Rory Lynn, clutching her stomach, being helped by several female colleagues. Her eyes were red as she made her way toward me. “Anya Reed!” Her voice was sharp and wailing, laced with tears, as if she were the victim of some immense tragedy. “How can you be so vicious? What did I ever do to you that you would humiliate me like this?” “I’m carrying a boy! We’ve been waiting for a son for generations! Are you that determined to ruin us?” The women next to her immediately burst out with indignation: “Anya, you are a monster! Rory just started working here, and you’re bullying her like this?” “Exactly! Aren’t you ever going to have children? How can you stand to curse a baby who hasn’t even been born?” “Targeting an unborn baby… don’t you worry about karma!” Rory was still dry-heaving, giving a full-throttle performance. The tears flowed instantly as she leaned weakly on a colleague: “I’m going to kill you… you ruined my reputation… I’m going to kill you…” Her sharp cries pierced my eardrums, but they pierced my memories even more. The thought that this gender-confused lunatic had brutally murdered me once made my body tremble uncontrollably. Hearing her threaten to kill me again, I couldn’t restrain myself. I surged to my feet, shoved the colleague next to him aside, and grabbed his collar. “Kill me? You already killed me once in another life!” “Act! Keep acting for me! Where is your stomach? Where is your ultrasound? Let me see it!” He was stunned by my sudden force, freezing for a few seconds. Then, he suddenly lunged, claws aimed for my face. I quickly dodged, my foot shooting out in a precise trip. With a loud thud, he pitched forward and crashed onto the floor. The searing pain of the boiling water being poured over my head flashed back, instantly boiling my blood. I planted a foot firmly on his back, grabbing his smooth, long wig and slamming his head down onto the tile. “Pretend! Act! I’m going to find out what you really are today!” Pinned down by my foot, Rory could only let out a pig-like shriek: “Ah! Help me! Anya Reed has gone crazy! She’s trying to kill me! My stomach… my baby…” His agonizing screams drew even more colleagues. They rushed forward, grabbing us with whatever hands they could find, forcibly pulling us apart. I was held fast by two male colleagues, still struggling to catch my breath. Only half an hour had passed since my rebirth. That meant only thirty minutes ago, I had been killed by this monster! How could I possibly be calm?! But as soon as they had me contained, everyone turned on me, pointing and yelling: “Anya, are you insane? This whole thing started because of your foul mouth, and now you’re physically assaulting a pregnant woman?” “I never realized we had such a vicious person in this office!” “I’ve already called Security! If you try to fight again, we’re calling the police immediately!” 3 Without my foot pinning him down, Rory’s arrogance returned. He was helped up, clutching his belly, pointing at me and sobbing dramatically: “See, everyone? She’s just jealous! She wants to kill my baby!” He staggered toward me, raising his hand to slap me. I tried to fight back, but the male colleagues held me in a viselike grip. “You want to hit back?! Just calm down!” Seeing me immobilized, Rory’s face twisted into a smug, triumphant sneer. His insults became fouler: “You barren piece of trash! You deserve to rot in the ground!” The other colleagues continued to berate me for a lack of empathy. Brenda, the woman who had helped Rory up, soothed him while shooting me a hateful look: “You’re a grown woman with no shame! You drove a pregnant woman to this state just over a proposal. What is wrong with you?” “Rory is pregnant, and it’s hard enough for her to work. If you cause her any complications, how will you be able to take responsibility?” I struggled against the men holding me, shouting my defense: “How many times do I have to explain? I use a silent keyboard! How am I bothering him? Am I transmitting my noise through telepathy?” “And furthermore, he says he’s pregnant—has any of you seen his prenatal reports? Has any of you seen her husband pick her up?” My question made a few people hesitate, a flicker of doubt in their eyes. Rory, however, immediately pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his bag: “This is my ultrasound report! It clearly says twelve weeks gestation!” I gave a cold laugh: “A minute ago you said my keyboard was like a jackhammer, making your stomach hurt. Now you’re screaming and fighting, making this huge scene, and your precious son is perfectly fine?” Everyone was momentarily stunned. Brenda muttered to herself: “Yeah, when I was pregnant, I got stressed just hearing loud noises… is Rory’s baby exceptionally tough?” At that moment, the security guard rushed in, saw the volatile scene, and immediately spoke up: “Everyone, calm down! Let’s discuss this peacefully!” Rory, who had been so arrogant a moment before, suddenly clutched his mouth and dry-heaved. After a long pause, he said weakly: “I can’t… My stomach hurts so bad… I must have gone into premature labor after being pushed by her!” “I need a hospital! If my baby is gone, Anya Reed, I will haunt you!” I wasn’t about to let him escape so easily. “Fine! To the hospital! I’ll go with you! And I’ll make sure to book you a consultation with an urologist to check on your prostate!” Rory instantly went ballistic, pointing his finger at my face and shrieking: “You… you maniac! You’re lying! I’ll sue you for defamation!” I turned to the crowd: “You all heard that, right? The truth will be known at the hospital. If he turns out to be pregnant, I will publicly bow down and apologize to him, and I will cover all his medical bills!” Then, I turned to Rory: “Do you dare to go?” With that, I grabbed him, pulling him toward the door. “Let’s go! Right now! Let the whole company see whether you’re carrying a baby or a sack of rotten intentions!” All the colleagues and I stared at him, waiting for an answer. Rory’s face cycled from bright red to sickly white. He never dreamed that the soft target he had terrorized in the last life would come back as a prickly, raging maniac this time. He held onto the desk for dear life, refusing to move an inch. But then, as if something clicked, he let out a loud THOOMP and collapsed straight to the floor. A puddle of “blood” quickly spread out from beneath him. He reached out a trembling hand and pointed at me, his eyes full of pure malice: “My baby… Anya Reed… you killed my baby!”

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Right before graduation, Rhys Maxwell convinced me to sneak in and taste the forbidden. I bit back the pain, but inside, I was ecstatic all night long, believing that my years of silent longing had finally paid off. It wasn’t until the day the SAT scores were posted that Rhys threw my pregnancy test results right into my mother’s face. “Ms. Reed,” he sneered, using her professional title like a slur, “didn’t you say getting involved with a punk was disgusting? Well, now your daughter is just as disgusting, knocked up by the very trash you hate.” “Too bad her kid will be just like her—a fatherless bastard with no one to claim him.” He left without a word, dropping a thick envelope on the counter—hush money, nothing more. Seven years later, I saw him again. He was Rhys Maxwell, the ruthless Head of the Maxwell Syndicate, a man whose name commanded fear. And I? I was just a disposable asset, the mistress of one of his mid-level crew chiefs. But Rhys, the kingmaker, was suddenly back—and acting like a madman, desperate to claim the role of father. 1 I was telling my six-year-old son, Leo, to go to bed early when my sugar daddy called me in to “entertain.” Just as I reached the door of the private lounge, I heard the casual, dismissive tone of the men inside. “Derrick, your girl is definitely top-shelf,” a voice drawled. “Heard she’s been with you since she was barely legal?” “Even the best product gets boring eventually. Marcus, if you’re interested, take her for a spin.” Derrick Shaw’s voice was thick with undisguised pride, as if he were discussing a trophy on his mantel. “She’s just a little pet I keep on the side. If you like what you see, Marcus, she’s all yours for the night. Have fun.” I’d been Derrick Shaw’s mistress for years; I knew how he liked to perform. He especially loved using me as conversation fodder, seeing it as proof of his status. So I pushed the door open, my expression blank, and that’s when I heard the familiar, chilling voice. “Excuse me, gentlemen, but my fiancée isn’t much of a drinker. I’ll take her glass.” The second my eyes locked with his, the crystal glass in his hand slipped, shattering on the Italian marble floor. His arm froze mid-gesture, a tableau of shock and sudden, violent recognition. I never imagined my reunion with Rhys would happen like this. Seven years had etched a cold, commanding authority onto him. Every calculated movement, every hard line in his face, screamed of the ruthless power he now wielded. Next to him sat a woman: polished, elegant, and clearly expensive—Seraphina Lowell. I suppressed the wave of nausea and fear, pulling up the practiced, sickeningly sweet smile I’d perfected over the years. I forced out the line that was now rote: “Derrick, baby, I missed you so much.” A heavy silence followed. The eyes in the room shifted: a few glances of raw appreciation, a flicker of pity, but mostly the flat, naked contempt I’d learned to ignore. Derrick reached out, yanking me onto his lap, his oily hand making itself at home on my waist. Rhys’s stare, which had started as a punch of shock, slowly curdled into undisguised, profound disgust. I knew he’d recognized me—and immediately understood what I was. Around the table, the men took turns toasting and encouraging me to drink. One expensive glass of scotch after another was poured into me. I pieced together the conversation and learned the identity of the woman next to Rhys. Her name was Seraphina Lowell. She was Rhys’s fiancée, a perfect match from a powerful family. They were clearly smitten. I remembered my mother’s words from all those years ago: Nothing good ever comes from getting mixed up with a punk. She was right. Now, my former punk boyfriend was draped in success, holding a beautiful woman. And I? I was a twenty-something single mother, being passed around for entertainment by men old enough to be my father. “Derrick, don’t keep all the fun to yourself! Let us see this beautiful girl’s talents!” Marcus King called out, his gaze glued to me, lingering greedily on my chest. Derrick, ever the shrewd businessman, recognized the opportunity. A used toy for a valuable connection—a worthwhile trade. Despite the last vestiges of his possessiveness, he chuckled and pushed me toward Marcus. “Marcus, she’s all yours. Enjoy.” A cold laugh caught in my throat, but my face only registered a practiced, coy smile. I obediently settled next to Marcus and poured him a drink. He was delighted, pulling a thick stack of hundred-dollar bills from his jacket and tossing them directly into my face. “Sweetheart, the night’s hot. Here’s a little something to cool you down.” He smirked, leaning closer. “Tell you what—for every ten bills you pick up, you take off one article of clothing. How about that?” The room erupted in loud laughter. The only sound that cut through the noise was the heavy, thudding impact of Rhys setting his glass down. I looked over, catching him in the act of watching Marcus’s crude display. His lips curled into a cold, mocking sneer. The contempt in his eyes was absolute. Fighting back the burning humiliation, I used my face to catch the scattered cash, then slowly removed my blazer. The second time, Marcus pointed to my blouse, urging me to continue. My fingers trembled as I unbuttoned it. The silk slid away, revealing my pale shoulders and collarbones, the ambiguous curves underneath barely hidden. All around me, I heard the sound of men swallowing. Someone sneakily pulled out a phone to take a picture. The third time, Marcus told me to choose between my skirt and my bra. He scattered the money deliberately this time, sending over a dozen bills skittering across the floor. I bent down, picking them up one by one. As my fingers reached for the last bill, a black leather dress shoe suddenly stamped down on my hand. The force was so heavy it felt like my bones were about to shatter. Rhys loomed over me, his voice colder than ice. “Women who choose to be mistresses truly are pathetic.” Ignoring his cruelty, I looked up, keeping that professional smile plastered on my face. “Sir, could you please lift your foot?” He held the pressure for a few agonizing seconds. It was Seraphina who lightly touched his arm, prompting him to reluctantly draw his foot back. I gathered the last of the money, preparing to take off the skirt, when a clear voice cut through the drunken clamor. “Wait a minute!” Seraphina Lowell stood up. “I’m feeling a little unwell,” she said softly. “I need to ask this young lady to accompany me to the restroom.” She was with Rhys; no one dared object. As we walked out, Seraphina slipped her cashmere shawl off her shoulders and draped it over me, covering my exposed skin. In the restroom, Seraphina didn’t rush to fix her makeup. Instead, she took out a moist wipe and began carefully cleaning the fingers Rhys’s shoe had pressed into the marble. They were already bright red. “You don’t look much older than I am,” she said quietly. “Why do this? Why make this kind of money, this way?” I studied her. Her Chanel suit was impeccable, her demeanor graceful. She radiated the pampered luxury of a life steeped in privilege. A person so wrapped in good fortune would never understand why someone with two working hands and a sound mind would choose this humiliating path. How could I explain it to her? Because I was desperate for cash. Because my six-year-old son needed to eat. Because my mother was lying in a hospital bed, needing an astronomical surgery fee to save her life. And the man responsible for the entire nightmare—the architect of my destruction—was her arrogant fiancé. When we returned to the room, the expected heckling didn’t resume. Because Tara Shaw, Derrick’s wife, had arrived. The sudden presence of the legal wife instantly killed the ambiguous mood. Everyone settled in, waiting for the inevitable fireworks, eager to watch me get publicly torn apart. I expected Tara to lose it, rush forward, call me a whore, and claw at my face. But she did none of that. She didn’t even look at me, as if I were an irrelevant piece of furniture. Tara simply smiled politely, socializing with Derrick and the other Crew Chiefs, her words perfect, leaving no room for complaint. I sat there next to her, my face expressionless, completely numb to the lack of shame. I was nothing more than an unsavory mistress, and I had long grown used to being ignored. When the night finally wrapped up, Derrick went to settle the bill. Only Tara and I were left in the lounge. She finally dropped the facade. She lunged, throwing her weight on me, straddling my chest, and delivering a resounding, stinging slap across my face. “You bitch! You slut who only knows how to use her body to please men!” “A piece of paid trash, how dare you show your face in a place like this? You fatherless tramp, you’re an embarrassment!” Her voice was sharp, a piercing, ugly sound. I wanted to tell her that she was right, I didn’t have a father. I wanted to tell her my mother was now a vegetable because of an accident, and no one was left to teach me how to live a respectable life. But I said nothing, simply enduring the barrage of hits and curses. My silence infuriated her. She shrieked, grabbing a wine bottle from the table and bringing it down hard on my head. Blood immediately gushed out, running down my forehead and into my eyes, turning my vision scarlet. Tara was preparing to strike again when a strong arm suddenly grabbed her wrist. “Enough! This is my club, don’t stain my carpet!” Rhys had returned. His face was thunderous, his entire body radiating a terrifying hostility. Tara, recognizing his authority, didn’t dare push it further. She shot me a final, venomous glare and stormed out. Clutching my bloody forehead, I stumbled out of the lounge and into the street. The accumulated injustice and agony of the night finally broke me. I collapsed next to a street dumpster and sobbed uncontrollably. I don’t know how long I cried. Behind me, the roar of an engine grew louder. A black Bentley pulled up beside me. The window slid down, revealing Rhys’s hardened face. “Get in.” I shook my head. “No, thank you.” Rhys frowned, saying nothing more. He got out of the car, scooped me up, and put me into the passenger seat. The pounding pain in my head made me dizzy. I didn’t bother to struggle, only managing to give him my address. Rhys didn’t use a GPS. He drove straight there. It was my old apartment. He remembered. Seven years ago, in the days leading up to graduation, he used to sneak over and we’d watch the stars from my fire escape. Now I knew that all that supposed tenderness was just a carefully orchestrated act. As we neared my building, Rhys broke the silence, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “It’s been years. How’s Ms. Reed doing?” My hand, resting on the door handle, froze. I stayed silent for a long time. It was long enough that Rhys lost patience. He reached over and seized my throat, his voice low and ice cold. “I remember Ms. Reed despised high school sweethearts. Does she know her precious daughter was dumped by a punk and now sells her body to lowlifes in the Syndicate?” “Oh, right. She’s not a teacher anymore. Is she spending the money you earn selling yourself?” Before I could process the words, he leaned down and bit my collarbone—hard. The pain was shocking, and I struggled against him. “Does Ms. Reed know how many times you’ve slept with that sugar daddy? So many times your body is covered in hickeys and bite marks!” Rhys spat out my mother’s name with mocking disdain. A bitter laugh echoed in my head. If he knew that my mother’s current state was entirely his fault, he’d probably be even more smug.

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During finals week, the school bully threatened to beat me up if I didn’t let him copy my answers. When the results came out, I was ranked first in the entire grade. The bully, however, clinched the title of Dead Last, achieving his worst score in history. On the first day of the new semester, he cornered me against a wall, tears streaming down my face. “I’m in ninth grade, you’re a junior in high school… I honestly don’t know why you insisted on copying my paper…” Chapter 1 Here’s how it happened. Our school recently introduced a massive scholarship, which naturally led to rampant cheating. To combat this unethical trend, the administration decided to mix grades during finals. Every exam room was a mix of students from two different grades to prevent collaboration. My exam room happened to be mixed with the high school juniors. When the school bully, Jax Hunter, walked in, he looked like he just woke up. His hair was a spiky mess, and his jacket hung off one shoulder as he swaggered in like he owned the place. He held nothing but a black pen and a ruler. His towering figure loomed over the classroom before he finally found his seat. Right behind me. Before the papers were handed out, he slammed his hands on my desk from behind, enveloping me in an aura of pure intimidation. He was the school’s number one fighter. I had personally witnessed him punch a 200-pound lineman five feet through the air. My brain started calculating frantically. With my physique, one punch from him would probably send me through the ceiling and into the exam room next door. Thinking about that, I felt like I could see the light. “W-what do you want? Grim Reaper?” My mouth slipped, and his brows furrowed tight. “What’s your name?” “Zo-Zo-Zoe… Zoe Lane.” “I don’t care about Zoe Lane. I’m asking what you just called me.” I was cracking. Did he hear me call him a hellhound in my head? Is he a mind reader? “No, no, nothing…” He stared straight into my soul: “What was your rank in the last monthly exam?” “Top… top ten.” “Top ten? Good enough.” He leaned down further, his face almost touching mine: “Let me copy your answers later. Or else, you’re dead meat!” I wanted to cry but no tears came out: “B-but I…” “Refusing?” He looked even fiercer, his eyes like knives stabbing me. I didn’t dare resist. I spent every exam shrinking my body so he could get a clear view of my answer sheet. When he couldn’t see, I even whispered the answers to him. In the end, I ranked first. And Jax Hunter fell from the bottom hundred straight to dead last. On the first day of the new semester, he cornered me against the school wall. Chapter 2 “You get first place, and I get last?” His massive, powerful fist was right next to my face. I was shaking like a leaf, crying my eyes out before he even touched me. “Now you know fear? Where was this fear when you played me? How big are your balls to lie to me?” I heard that after the grades came out, he was mocked mercilessly. Dead last. Even his lackeys ranked higher than him. Including the guy who wasn’t technically intellectually disabled but might as well be—the perennial last placer—who scored three points higher than him. And Jax was the only one of them who filled out the entire answer sheet. His enemies were having a field day. “Jax Hunter” became the punchline of the entire winter break. He looked furious, grabbing my collar. I cried: “Boohoo… I didn’t lie to you… I’m in ninth grade, you’re a junior… I don’t know why you insisted on copying off me…” “What did you say?” He looked confused, then finally glanced at the school badge on my chest. We weren’t even in the same grade. His face turned iron gray: “Why didn’t you say so earlier?!” I cried harder: “Ugh… I thought you had your reasons.” The school had announced the mixed seating arrangement ages ago. How was I supposed to know the school bully not only skipped class but also ignored exam notifications? He came to find me to regain his dignity, to prove he wasn’t a joke. Instead of proving anything, he just added another layer to the comedy. Jax was so mad he started shadowboxing in front of me. I wasn’t built for combat. terrified he’d use me as a punching bag, I tried to merge with the wall, my voice squeaking: “You… don’t be mad. I’ll give you half my scholarship money, okay?” Jax glared at me from the corner of his eye: “You think I’m not funny enough already?” “Enough, enough…” I spoke without thinking, seeing his glare intensify, I quickly corrected myself: “No, not enough…” No matter what I said, he wasn’t happy, trying his best to kill me with his eyes. Feeling like his fist was about to drop any second, to save my life, I made a desperate move. I stepped forward and hugged his waist: “I’m sorry… I really didn’t mean to, please don’t hit me…” Jax didn’t speak for a long time. I could only hear his heart pounding against my ear like a drum. Just when I thought I wouldn’t leave with all my limbs intact, he suddenly patted my shoulder: “As long as you know you’re wrong. I don’t hit girls.” “Still hugging? Is my waist free real estate? Keep hugging and you’ll have to take responsibility, got it?” I quickly let go and shrank back into the wall. “The… the bell rang. Can I go back to class?” He suddenly snatched my school badge and pointed at a crack in the wall: “Put it here and wait for me.” Chapter 3 I was doomed. I didn’t know how he planned to torture me. During the awards assembly, I went up to receive my prize and saw him taking photos of me from below the stage. I racked my brain. How could I get the school bully to forgive me and let bygones be bygones? After thinking for ages, I decided to give him a gift as an apology. Seeing something suitable in the school flea market group chat, I bought it without hesitation, put it in a bubble tea bag, and went to wait by the wall. After a few minutes, he strolled over. Walking with a swagger, hair exploding in every direction, wearing sunglasses like a celebrity. My school badge was pinned to his lapel, flaunted for the world to see. Seeing me holding something, he seemed pleased. “Buying me a drink?” I got nervous as soon as I saw him, nodding uncontrollably, babbling: “I-I-I-I bought… bought you something.” He took it, and I looked down to fish out the items. “These are spy glasses. Wear them next exam, adjust the focus, and you can see other people’s papers without leaning over.” “This is an invisible ink pen. Write cheat sheets with it, bring it into the exam, no one will see.” “And a prophecy pencil. For multiple choice questions you don’t know, just roll the dice on top, pick A, B, C, or D…” I took out these cheating artifacts one by one and introduced them to him. When I looked up, Jax’s face was darker than charcoal. “Zoe Lane, in your eyes, am I only good for cheating?” He looked ferocious, like he wanted to bite me to death. I sniffled and took out the second bag of treasures. “Boohoo… I also bought you review materials and a wrong-answer notebook, plus an Ultraman pencil case and a box of Pokémon gel pens. Wishing you academic success and a bright future…” I opened the review book. Shh! I Know You Are Gay — A Mental Health Guide for Men Several rows of pink printed letters assaulted my eyes. Below the text was an illustration of a shirtless muscular man pinning a scrawny boy against a wall. They were staring into each other’s eyes, pink blushes drawn on their cheeks, the tension palpable. Looking up again, Jax’s expression had moved past wanting to bite me. He wanted to ball me up, slice me, shred me, deep fry me, stew me, and finally stir-fry me over high heat until I became recycled matter, disappearing from this world without even DNA left behind. I wailed. “I really… didn’t mean to…” “Follow me.” He used two fingers to pick up my bubble tea bag like it was toxic waste and flung it into the trash can. Then he grabbed me by the back of my collar, carrying me like a baby chick. I thought he was taking me to some dark alley without cameras to beat me up. Instead, he took me to the gym and made me write his apology letter. He changed into his jersey, spinning a basketball on his finger. “My grades tanked so hard the school wants a thousand-word self-reflection essay. But I have a game today, no time. You write it for me.” I held the pen and paper, whispering: “I don’t know how.” Self-reflection letters were foreign to a good student like me. “Find a template online and fill in the blanks.” He pressed down on my head, his voice dark: “If you don’t finish before the game ends, you’re coming to my house to write it. Don’t think about leaving tonight until it’s done.” I wanted to cry again, wiping snot and tears as I started writing. Jax ran onto the court with the ball. The atmosphere heated up immediately, cheers erupting constantly. Jax might be bad at everything else, but he was good at basketball. I’d seen his games. Basically, any team he was on crushed the opposition. Even the school leaders and teachers watching had to pretend to be magnanimous while getting their teams destroyed. There were countless girls in school who ate up his style. Every game, the stands were full of girls screaming their throats raw for him. Amidst the noise, me burying my head writing an apology letter in the gym seemed so out of place. During halftime, a flock of girls screamed and offered Jax water. He ignored them all and sat directly next to me. “How much did you write?” Don’t mention it. I went from admitting mistakes, reflecting on regression, to promising to study hard, listen carefully, then to hoping for college entrance exams, a three-step goal for grades… I used every fancy word, made stuff up, talked in circles, and still only managed six hundred words. “I really can’t fluff it anymore…” I looked at him with teary eyes. He looked at the letter. “Simple. Expand the first three hundred words, repeat the last three hundred words a few times, done.” He was a pro at this. I had to do as he said and started copy-pasting. He watched from the side, then suddenly snatched the water bottle I had in my backpack’s side pocket. Before I could stop him, he downed it. “No…” His eyebrows shot up: “What’s wrong with drinking your water?” Before he finished speaking, he clutched his stomach and sprinted to the bathroom at 60 mph. Chapter 4 Jax missed the second half of the game. He practically lived in the toilet. His bros got beaten black and blue. I meekly met him outside the bathroom and took him to the hospital. “Zoe Lane, are you my curse?” Jax was on an IV drip, his face darker than a ghost. I explained weakly: “I tried to stop you, you didn’t listen…” “Are you sick? Putting laxatives in your own water?” I lowered my head: “I didn’t put it there.” His stomach rumbled loudly again. Jax curled up in pain, veins popping on his neck. He looked like he was about to hit someone. I trembled in fear and hurriedly offered my last peace offering. “Senior, have some bubble tea.” I handed it over too fast, squeezed too hard, and sprayed the bully in the face. A pearl playfully stuck to his nostril, instantly giving him a comical look. … I didn’t dare breathe. I felt like he was going to slap my head off my neck any second. He wiped his face: “Once is an accident, twice is a coincidence, three times I’ll count as carelessness, four times… Zoe Lane, even if my brain was squeezed by a door, I don’t know how to defend you anymore.” I apologized, tears streaming down my face: “My brain was squeezed…” “A brain-squeezed person ranks first in the grade? Are you mocking me again?” The muscles in his handsome face twitched. He ground his teeth so loud it sounded like construction work. Once they were sharp, he’d bite my jugular, spraying blood everywhere, and suck me dry like a vampire. No… Snot and tears flying, I rolled up my sleeves, revealing arms full of bruises: “Senior, I can’t take a beating. One punch will kill me. Sometimes people think these bruises are from you too. I don’t want you to be framed, so please don’t hit me, okay?” “Zoe Lane! What the hell goes on in your head all day!” He was so mad he ripped out the IV needle, flailing his limbs like an exploding octopus. “Am I fierce? Am I violent? Are you a basketball? Why would I hit you? In your heart, do I only know how to cheat and fight? Even though I sleep in class, cheat, fail exams, and have a bad temper, can’t you see that under my handsome exterior lies a soft and sensitive heart? Just like this morning, a hug could have soothed me, but you had to piss me off again and again! Do you want to anger me to death so you can inherit my title of School Bully?” My brain throbbed from his yelling. Then I saw him fling his hand, turn his head away, pout his lips to the sky, but open his arms towards me. “Here. Giving you a chance. Comfort me.” I didn’t know if he needed a psychiatrist, but I had to comply. I sniffled, put down the bubble tea, and hugged him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were so… gentle.” I violated my conscience to use a word completely unrelated to Jax Hunter. He didn’t speak. I thought he was annoyed again, but when I looked up, his grin reached his ears. He hugged me back: “Right? I am very gentle. I have fought, but that’s because others provoked me first. They were jealous that I’m handsome and good at basketball, deliberately looking for trouble. I did nothing wrong…” I nodded with my eyes closed: “I know, I know. Appearance reflects the heart. You’re so handsome, it means you’re good, you’re right. They’re just jealous.” The bully wiggled his massive frame. “Exactly!” “You only became a bully because they targeted you. You don’t start trouble, but you don’t fear it. You’re the most capable.” “Exactly!” “Your grades are bad because of them too. Otherwise, you’d definitely be third in the grade. Why not first? Because the first has to give a speech. Why not second? Because you wanted to let the poor student have the $1500 scholarship.” “Exactly!” … God help me. Who knew? The bully who could break a podium with his bare hands was a narcissistic airhead. Seeing him trapped in pink bubbles, I knew I had smoothed his feathers enough. I coaxed him into putting the IV back in.

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Five years after my divorce, I ran into Ethan Sterling at a luxury department store. The sales associate was packaging the tie I had chosen for my husband. Seeing Ethan, her tone became warm and eager. “Mr. Sterling, you’re here. The suit your wife picked out for you is ready.” The man nodded slightly, his gaze lingering on the tie in my hand. “Pay for hers as well.” I politely declined and placed the cash on the counter. He seemed to sigh. “Sarah, after all these years, do you still hate me?” I smiled but didn’t speak. Who has the time to hate him? I let go a long time ago. I took the shopping bag, stuffed it casually into my canvas tote filled with groceries, and turned to leave. The early autumn wind howled. Walking to the bus stop based on memory, the wind whipped my hair into my eyes, making it hard to see. When I brushed the hair away from my face, I saw Ethan’s car stopped in front of me. Seeing my red eyes, he frowned tightly. “Get in, I’ll give you a ride.” “No thanks, I’ll take the bus.” He looked me up and down, glancing at the canvas tote on my shoulder, and asked cautiously. “Have you been well these years?” “Pretty good.” Ethan obviously didn’t believe me. “Get in, just let me drop you off.” The bus behind us honked incessantly, but he didn’t move an inch. Under the public gaze, I helplessly got into the car. “Peace Gardens Apartments,” I casually gave the address. The air fell silent for a moment, and the man’s voice was difficult. “Why do you live in a place like that? It’s been dilapidated for years, not to mention you’re a woman alone, and…” He couldn’t continue. But I knew what he wanted to say. That was where my mother died. Ten years ago today, she refused to attend my wedding with Ethan. And jumped from the rooftop of the 10th floor. The back seat was spacious, but the heater was too strong. I rolled down the window a bit. “You catch a cold easily in the wind, better close it. If you’re hot, I’ll turn down the temperature.” I shook my head and smiled. “Not anymore. Do as you please.” The man fell silent. A moment later, his phone rang. “Hubby, did you get the clothes? Where are you now?” The voice from the car speakers was familiar, but carried a passionate coquettishness strange to me. “Got them. Just ran into Sarah, giving her a ride.” Silence on the other end. “Sarah is back? Long time no see. Why didn’t you say so earlier? Should’ve invited her to hang out.” Knowing Lily Evans for over a decade, I had never heard her speak in such a tone. Before, she was introverted and quiet, focused only on painting. When someone stole her competition spot, she would only hide and cry. It was me who took a baseball bat and smashed that person’s entry in public, wrote letters to report the unfairness, and spent three days in juvenile detention to get justice for her. Sure enough, absolute favoritism gives people flesh and blood. “Just a chance encounter. She has things to do. I’ll be back after dropping her off.” “Chance encounter means fate. What’s wrong with treating an old friend to a meal?” “Lily, stop it.” The other end fell silent. Ethan was always gentle when coaxing people, but once he decided something, no one could stop him. Lily should know this better than me. When the call was abruptly cut off, the car stopped right downstairs at my apartment. “Thanks.” After a polite thank you, I got out. The man withdrew his gaze from the surroundings and called out to me. 2 “Sarah, may I ask who you bought that tie for?” “My husband.” The man rubbed his forehead and smiled bitterly, as if thinking I was still spiting him with these words. “Same brand and style, you used to buy for me five years ago too.” “So?” I met his gaze, my eyes calm. “Actually, you don’t need to be strong in front of me. After all these years, I just hope you live well, not like this.” Like what? The glass of the apartment gate reflected my image. Casual outfit, ordinary flat shoes, plus a canvas tote full of groceries. Looking like an ordinary person bustling for a living. But for me, who was used to wearing designer clothes and jewelry, there was nothing wrong with this appearance. I smiled, not angry. “I think it’s pretty good.” The man’s expression loosened for a moment. “Sarah, you seem really different from before.” “Yeah, a lot of people say that.” With that, I turned and left, never looking back. Climbed up five floors, opened the door. The furnishings inside were no different from this time last year. Next to the old TV was my mother’s portrait, the candle in front of her long extinguished. I skillfully placed a new candle, put on an apron, and went into the kitchen. Soon finished three dishes and a soup. Opposite the table was a bowl of rice no one ate. I ate very slowly too. “Mom, I met Ethan Sterling.” “Don’t be angry yet. He can’t bully your daughter. Besides, I’m not as stupid as before.” Only boundless silence responded to me. Appetite gone, I put down my chopsticks and went into the bedroom, digging out an old photo album. “Let’s look at Mom’s peerless beauty. Looking at that black and white one is boring.” Before opening the album, a photo fell out onto the floor. Bending over to pick it up, I saw the faces clearly. Ethan, me, Lily. Three faces brimming with youth smiling wantonly at the camera. I stood in the middle holding their arms, laughing the happiest—a missing canine tooth on the right made me look a bit silly. That was the midsummer when I was 13. Debt collectors found Ethan’s home shouting to kill. None of the neighbors dared to help, not even my parents. But I rushed up. The fist meant for Ethan’s face hit mine unexpectedly. Teeth shattered on the spot, face swollen for half a month. My mother felt sorry for me and told me not to associate with the Sterling family. But unexpectedly, Ethan’s mother dragged her disabled legs and knelt before my parents, kowtowing and thanking incessantly. So she softened. For nearly ten years, a set of tableware belonging to Ethan was often added to my family’s dinner table. During festivals, new clothes added a boy’s style. She helped Ethan’s mother set up a stall when not busy. When someone bullied them, she fired full power scolding until that person dared not come again. They called each other sisters. But no one expected that the sister, always cowardly and stuttering, climbed into her sister’s husband’s bed. When I got home, everything was smashed to pieces. Mother stood in the middle of the room crying out of breath, five finger marks on her cheeks clear and terrible, while father protected the woman in his arms tightly. “Let’s divorce. Everything goes to you, I only want Susan.” Standing beside me, Ethan was panicked, wanting to grab Susan Lin’s hand. But was slapped twice by my mother. I pushed her, watching her fall to the ground, looking at me in disbelief. 3 I cried too then, but said heartbreaking words. “Mom, why did you hit Ethan?” Memories chaotic, fixed on this small photo in my hand. After divorcing Ethan back then, I burned everything related to him. Didn’t expect a survivor here. Just as I was about to throw it in the trash, a knock suddenly sounded on the door. Thought it was Aunt Zhang who habitually visited at this time of year, so I opened it directly. Didn’t expect to see Lily holding Ethan’s arm. She was smiling: “Sarah, long time no see! Haven’t seen you for so many years, you haven’t changed a bit.” “Ethan insisted on coming. Our sudden visit won’t disturb you, right?” I looked at the two calmly. “I won’t invite you in. What’s up?” Lily hit a soft nail, looking aggrieved at the man beside her. “Lily just wanted to see you and brought you a gift. No other meaning.” After speaking, the man placed the thing in his hand directly on the entryway cabinet. Lily immediately started introducing actively. “This skincare set is what I’ve been loving recently. Just happened to have an extra set at home. We used to share things often, so I thought of giving it to you.” I glanced down, looked like the one my housekeeper used. “That photo…” Lily suddenly teared up: “Sarah, after so many years, you still haven’t let go.” I crumpled the photo and threw it into the trash can casually: “Not really.” She seemed to want to hold my hand, but stopped in mid-air. “I know you still hold a grudge. If you and Ethan were still together, today would be your wedding anniversary.” “I had no choice back then. If you really don’t care anymore, let us treat you to a meal. Tell us if you need help in life, we are old friends.” Almost without thinking, I prepared to refuse. The candle in front of the shrine suddenly popped. I smiled faintly, suddenly changing my mind: “Okay.” Lily talked more than before. Small actions were frequent too. While talking about the romantic trip to Turkey with the man last month, she used her finger to apply her lip balm on the man while waiting for the red light. “Every autumn and winter I have to remind you. Last time you kissed too hard and it bled, don’t you remember?” The man grabbed her moving hand, seeming a bit annoyed: “Stop it.” “Oh my, I forgot Sarah is here. Sarah, you won’t mind, right? Ethan and I are used to getting along like this…” I interrupted her extremely magnanimously. “Of course not.” “I’ve seen you two rolling in bed together. Why would I mind this little scene now?” The car fell into silence. Finally quiet. Looking at the scenery along the way, thinking if mother were still here, she would also marvel at the changes now. Back then father insisted on divorcing for Susan, almost driving her crazy. And the fact that I secretly became husband and wife with Ethan directly took her life. At first, I only hated father and Susan. It was they who betrayed mom, forcing her from an indestructible woman to a resentful woman who made a fuss over small things in a short time. Time seemed to flow exceptionally hard on her, taking away her vitality bit by bit.

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August fifteenth. The thick, humid air hung heavy, the kind that promised a storm but delivered only heat. It was then, in the suffocating quiet of the small hours, that my drunken brother-in-law, Cody Albright, staggered into the west bedroom and assaulted my sleeping sister. When I burst in, Holly lay on the rough cotton sheets, her face slick with tears. She looked at me—just one final, hollow gaze—then she scrambled up and slammed her head against the wall, collapsing in a heap. Cody, reeking of cheap whiskey, zipped up his jeans and swayed, a smug, triumphant grin plastered across his face. I lunged for him, ready to drag him to the Sheriff’s Department, but my in-laws swarmed me, blocking the door. My mother-in-law, Mrs. Albright, pointed a shaking finger at Holly’s corpse. “She’s the one who lured him on! She killed herself because she failed to snag him!” My husband, Marcus, shoved me back. “Stop making a scene! Cody’s still got to find a wife!” I tried to escape, to run to the nearest phone and call the police, but they locked me in the tool shed for three days and three nights. I eventually died there, coughing up blood until my lungs failed. When I opened my eyes again, Holly was standing before me, vibrant and whole, turning around to admire the new, floral-print hoodie I’d just bought her. The nightmare of the past life flashed behind my eyes. I snatched the hoodie off her, threw it onto the bed, and dragged her out the door. I put her on a bus back to our parents’ farm, miles away. I had just managed to lie down, exhausted but believing the worst had been averted, when a woman’s scream ripped through the dark house. 1 I scrambled off the bed, pulling on a shirt, and rushed out the door. The west bedroom door creaked open. Cody Albright, so drunk he could barely stand, staggered out zipping up his jeans, a familiar, triumphant smirk on his face. I ran to him, grabbing his arm. “It was you! Who was it? Who is in there?” Cody just reeked of cheap booze, his mouth stretching into a lazy, drunken smile. “In the dark? Who can tell?” Mr. and Mrs. Albright, my father- and mother-in-law, came rushing out, pulling me away from him. “Why are you harassing Cody? It must have been some girl who was asking for it!” The sight of their shameless faces, the cold memory of Holly’s last look—it sent a tremor of pure, blinding rage through me. “Cody Albright, you think that’s funny? This is rape!” Marcus, my husband, was the last to arrive. He grabbed my shoulder. “Willow, calm down. It was just a slip-up, they slept together, that’s all.” My eyes narrowed with a hatred that felt centuries old. It was the same line. Last time, when my sister was dead, he said the same thing. Just a slip-up. Mrs. Albright tried to smooth the corners of her mouth into a frown, failing. “It was two consenting adults, Willow. Just let it go.” Then she added, practically giddy with greed, “And Holly is sixteen now. But since she’s been so careless with her reputation, she’ll need to bring $5,000 cash and promise to cover the whole wedding for Cody to take her.” I froze. A second passed before the fog of anger cleared. They think the girl in there is Holly. But Holly was safe, miles away, asleep in our parents’ house! She couldn’t possibly be here. A cold dread crawled up my spine. My mind went blank with a horrifying realization: I had prevented Holly’s tragedy, but in this filthy pit of a family, I hadn’t stopped the crime. I had only changed the victim. All I could think of was the girl crying softly behind that closed door. Who was she? I spun around and slapped Cody as hard as I could. For the lost Holly of the previous life, and for the innocent girl in the bedroom now. Cody stumbled backward, clutching his face, his eyes wide with disbelief. “You… you actually hit me?” “You bet your life I did!” I grabbed the broom from the corner and started beating him with it, the coarse bristles and hard wood landing with dull thuds. “Cody, who is in that room? You animal! Are you even human?” Cody scrambled away. “Help! Mom, Dad, Sharon, the lunatic is attacking me!” Mrs. Albright rushed forward to block me, but I shoved her aside with the broom handle. When Mr. Albright tried to step in, I glared at him, my eyes burning. “Dad! If you touch me, I swear, I’ll be at the Sheriff’s Department first thing tomorrow! I’ll make sure everyone in this county knows your son is a monster!” Mr. Albright froze. Marcus wrestled the broom out of my hand. “Willow, stop! He gets it!” “Gets it?” I stopped, gripping Cody’s collar. “Cody Albright, I am asking you one last time,” I leaned in, drilling him with my stare, “who is the person in that room?” Cody was bleeding from the lip and had a bruise forming over his eye. He looked at me, his eyes darted away, and then, a slow, ugly grin spread across his face. “Who do you think?” He spat a mouthful of blood and smirked, a total piece of scum. “It’s just your sister, Holly.” He wiped the blood from his mouth. “Holly was happy to be with me, she knows how to play her cards right. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of her…” “You’re a lying sack of trash!” I raised my hand again. Marcus gripped me tightly. “Willow! Enough!” Mrs. Albright, seeing her chance, seized it. Her voice was a hysterical shriek. “It was Holly! I saw her earlier! She led Cody on!” Mr. Albright chimed in, nodding fiercely. “That’s right! It was Holly! Both of us saw them!” I looked at their choreographed lies, their monstrous unity, and I started to laugh. 2 I laughed until the laughter twisted into sobs. “Fine. Fine. Fine,” I nodded, my voice shaking. “You people are a spectacular show.” I turned toward the west bedroom and screamed toward the silent door. “The girl inside, did you hear that? They all say you seduced a man!” The west room remained dead silent. Sharon, my elder sister-in-law, finished chewing her last sunflower seed, clapped the husks off her hands, and strolled over, her movements slow and deliberate. “Well, Willow, what is all this? Making a scene in the middle of the night? Who can sleep through this racket?” She walked up to Cody, looked him up and down, and sighed. “Cody, you really drank too much. But still…” She shifted her focus to me, smiling thinly. “Willow, I hate to say it, but a girl’s business—if it’s mutual, what are you, her sister, making such a fuss about?” I stared at the seed fragments sticking to her lips. “Say that again, Sharon.” “I said,” Sharon drew out the words, “if the girl didn’t want it, could Cody force her? She must have been up for it herself.” She leaned in, dropping her voice low enough to sound confidential, but loud enough for everyone to hear. “Your sister, Holly, she’s sixteen. Time for her to get married. Cody drinks a bit, but he’s family. Marry him, and she’ll be set.” Smack! I raised my hand and slapped her. Sharon froze, holding her cheek, a high-pitched sound of disbelief escaping her. “You hit me?” “That’s for your filthy mouth!” My eyes were bloodshot. “My sister’s reputation is not for you to chew on like trash!” Dean, the eldest brother, came out of the main house, rubbing his eyes, wearing a jacket over his pajamas. “What’s the screaming about? Can a man get some sleep?” He saw Sharon clutching her cheek and frowned. “What happened?” Sharon immediately burst into dramatic tears, throwing herself at him. “Marcus’s wife hit me! Just because I told her not to interfere with Holly and Cody!” Dean’s face hardened as he looked at me. “Sister-in-law, what are you doing? Disrupting the peace in the middle of the night?” “Me disrupting the peace?” I pointed at the west room. “Your brother assaulted someone, and instead of doing anything, you blame me for making noise?” Dean glanced at Cody, then at the west room. He waved a dismissive hand. “Cody was drunk. Stupid mistake. If the girl didn’t want it, he couldn’t have pulled it off. Just let it go, Willow. It’ll look bad for everyone if you push it.” “Let it go?” I was shaking with fury. “A girl’s life, her reputation—you say just let it go?” Dean tightened his coat around him. “Reputation? So what? They did the deed. If it was consensual, so what? No one died.” No one died. That same monstrous phrase. Last time, my sister died, and they said, “She couldn’t handle it, whose fault is that?” I clenched my fists until my nails dug into my palms. Marcus came over again, trying to pull me away. “Willow, Dean’s right, this will look bad. Let’s just make Cody marry Holly. After all…” “After all what?” I twisted my head to glare at him. “After all, my sister was assaulted, so she has to marry the man who did it? Marcus, are you even a person?” Marcus dropped his head, shamed, but still mumbled, “Well, what else can we do?” Mrs. Albright, seeing her side winning, straightened up. “Exactly! If Cody marries Holly, it’s all smoothed over! Willow, stop being ungrateful!” Mr. Albright nodded along. “Yes. Since Holly lost her purity before the wedding, have your parents bring the $5,000 and the wedding expenses, and Cody will marry her.” Sharon, still nursing her cheek, added fuel to the fire. “Honestly, Holly should be thanking Cody. It’s a good family. Marrying into the Albrights is her lucky day!” I stared at their calculating, shameless faces, and a wave of nausea so powerful it was physical washed over me. 3 My stomach churned. I bent over, dry-heaving, nothing coming up but acid and tears. “Oh, what’s this?” Sharon mocked, her voice dripping with insincerity. “Putting on a show for us? You weren’t the one who got taken.” I straightened up, wiping the tears from my face, and looked at Marcus. “Marcus, I’m telling you this now. Before sunrise, Cody Albright goes to the Sheriff’s Department and turns himself in. If not, I go instead.” “You wouldn’t dare!” Mrs. Albright shrieked. “If you go, I’ll tell Marcus to divorce you!” “Divorce me!” I roared back, my voice raw. “You think I want to be an Albright? I am telling you, this is far from over!” My voice was loud enough to carry through the quiet night. The creak of a door opening came from the neighboring yard, followed by footsteps. “What’s all the noise?” Mrs. Gable, a neighbor, peered over the fence, pulling a robe tight around her. “Middle of the night, what’s the yelling about?” Mrs. Albright’s face instantly changed. She flashed a strained, phony smile. “Nothing, Mrs. Gable, nothing! Just a bit of a commotion, a rat in the house. We were chasing a rat.” “Chasing a rat?” Mrs. Gable looked suspiciously at the tense group in the yard. “Doesn’t sound like it to me…” Sharon reacted instantly. She grabbed Mrs. Gable’s arm, acting overly familiar and sweet. “Really, Mrs. Gable, it’s nothing! It’s just Willow’s sister… oh, you know, young girls. A little misunderstanding with Cody, and Willow saw it and is throwing a fit.” She shot a warning glare at me. “Isn’t that right, Willow?” I didn’t answer. Mrs. Gable looked from Sharon to me. “Holly? But didn’t Holly go back home this afternoon? I saw her get on the truck myself.” “She… she came back!” Sharon lied without a flicker of hesitation. “She got mad at her sister and turned around halfway. Young people, you know.” She even covered her mouth and chuckled, feigning embarrassment. Mrs. Gable looked unconvinced and turned her eyes toward the west room. “And in that room…” “That’s Holly!” Mrs. Albright cut in quickly. “She’s shy, too embarrassed to come out. Mrs. Gable, please go back to bed. You have work tomorrow.” Mrs. Gable finally shook her head and walked away. “Young people, honestly.” As soon as she was gone, Mrs. Albright slammed the yard gate shut, her face twisting back into a mask of fury. “Willow Albright!” She stabbed a finger at my chest. “You go to the police, and I will make your life a misery!” Sharon’s expression hardened. “Exactly! Willow, I’m telling you as your sister-in-law. The girl has already gone and done the deed with Cody. Why are you fighting it? It’ll ruin her for good if this gets out. Where will she ever find a husband?” She then had a strange look in her eye, and she turned and headed toward the west room. 4 “Sharon, what are you doing?” I blocked her path. “What do you think?” Sharon pushed past me. “I’m going to talk to the girl. She must be scared right now. I’ll go calm her down, tell her to accept it.” She reached the west room door, cleared her throat, and addressed the person inside. “Honey, it’s your sister-in-law. Don’t be afraid. This whole thing? It’s a good thing.” “Cody drinks, but he’s solid. You’ll be family now. Just have your dad bring the $5,000 and the wedding money, and we’ll accept you.” “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you. When the sun comes up, we’ll go to your house and get the money, and then we’ll have a wedding. You’ll be welcomed.” She got louder and louder, as if she wanted the whole neighborhood to hear her sick offer. “Just make sure you take care of Cody, and give the Albrights a big baby boy as soon as possible. That’s all that matters!” I stood behind her, listening to those words, a coldness spreading through my body. In the past life, after Holly died, Sharon had said something similar. “Such a waste. What if she was already carrying an Albright baby? She should be thankful she got with Cody.” Now, she was saying the same vicious words to the girl—whoever she was—behind the door. Cody stood under the moonlight, listening to his sister-in-law, and his smug look returned, even stronger than before. He even winked at me, as if to say, See? Everyone is on my side. Mr. and Mrs. Albright nodded in full agreement. Marcus looked down, unable to meet my eyes. Dean yawned, ready to go back to sleep. It was as if this was all just a little, consensual late-night fling. As if the girl in that room truly should be grateful to marry the animal who assaulted her. I bit down hard, tasting blood. Then, I turned and sprinted for the yard gate. “Where are you going?” Marcus grabbed me. “The Sheriff’s Department.” I yanked my arm away. “I’m going now.” “Willow Albright!” Mrs. Albright shrieked, lunging at me. “You wouldn’t dare!” “Just watch me.” I shoved her aside and tore open the yard gate. Outside, the moonlight was cool and clean. Inside, stood a den of monsters. And I would no longer be the silent, dying victim.

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I was an expert pretender, a high-level fraud. I wore knock-off designer clothes and my husband worked demolition, but online, I cultivated the image of a wealthy, stay-at-home society wife. At the parent-teacher conference, I had my son, Leo, show off for the crowd. “My dad is closing a big deal in Dubai right now!” he’d chirp. “And my mom’s diamonds are brighter than the stars!” I soaked in the envious stares of the other parents, the ones who genuinely had money. I looked down at my son. “The most important thing in this world, honey,” I lectured him, my voice low, “is money.” At the exact same time, my husband, Rhys, and I were crammed into our dingy, three-hundred-square-foot studio apartment, having a screaming match. “Have you no shame?” he’d yelled, his voice strained. “You’d trade your dignity just for cash?” A cold light flashed in my eyes. I stared intently at his face for a long moment, then broke into a slow, unsettling smile. “You honestly don’t know why I do this, do you?” 1 Back at the conference, Leo had been celebrated as the top student in his class, and the eyes of his classmates’ parents were warm with admiration. “Leo, your mom is so pretty! She smells so nice, too.” Leo beamed, lifting his chin and clutching my hand. “Of course. My mom is the best and the most beautiful!” The other parents were excessively friendly. Mrs. Davies, Piper’s mother, fixated on the Vacheron Constantine bracelet I’d splurged on—a costly replica—and gave me a skeptical once-over. I held my hand out, letting her get a good look. “Rhys picked it up for me during his last trip,” I said, smiling easily. She nodded, then asked, “Maya, where do you live? The Heights?” The Heights was the respectable, upper-middle-class neighborhood tied to the school. I shook my head, my face an impassive mask. “I live at The Somerset Towers.” Mrs. Davies audibly gasped. “I heard the rent there is insane. Your family must be loaded.” I spoke in a casual, airy tone. “It’s fine. Just an eight-figure place, nothing too crazy.” Another ripple of astonishment spread through the group. After the usual pleasantries, I deliberately took the fifteen-minute detour through The Somerset Towers before making the long, quiet drive back to our thirty-square-meter rental. I sighed, carefully tucking the fake bracelet away in a small, bolted safe. I held Leo’s hand and asked him, “If a friend wants to come over tomorrow, what do you tell them?” My son nestled against me, blinking his big eyes. He gave the practiced response. “I’ll tell them I have one-on-one tutoring all evening and I can’t have guests.” I nodded in satisfaction and caressed his cheek, just about to praise him for being so clever. But Leo hesitated, then whispered, “Mom… if Dad finds out we’re lying, will he be angry? He said he hates lying kids the most.” I opened my mouth, but before I could reply, the door creaked open. Rhys walked in, still wearing his soot-stained work clothes, looking completely exhausted. His gaze was sharp, a laser beam fixed on me, and his voice was tight with suppressed fury. “Maya, have you completely lost it?! Why are you forcing Leo to lie? Do you want to ruin him?” I met his stare with a cold, even one of my own. “This is how I show him love.” His eyes were red-rimmed, and he looked at me like I was incomprehensible. “The card—you ran up sixty-eight thousand dollars today. What on earth did you buy?” My expression didn’t change. “A bracelet.” He started to tremble, choking on his anger. “That’s our rent for a year! And my medication! The electric bill, the tuition—none of that is free. Maya, for the sake of appearances, you’re throwing away everything we have! You’ve completely lost your sense of self!” He raised his voice, a mistake. I turned icy. “That was my savings. I’ll spend it however I want. What business is it of yours?” He recoiled, clutching his chest, a look of pure disbelief on his face. “How could you change so much?” I almost laughed. Tears even welled up in my eyes. Did he truly not know the reason? Rhys had a heart condition and couldn’t handle stress. Because of his sickness, I had supported him for six of the seven years we’d been married, working three jobs a day, killing myself to keep a roof over our heads. I smiled at customers behind a retail counter by day, bussed tables and dressed up as a goofy mascot by night. Just as our lives had finally started to stabilize and his heart condition was under control, I decided I couldn’t do it anymore. 2 Late that night, I went through my usual routine and started my live stream. Ostensibly, I was sharing the daily life of a wealthy wife. In reality, I was waiting for the perfect moment to slip in subtle product placements. I angled the shot strategically so viewers could see the faux antique-white hutch I’d bought for eight hundred dollars. The nightstands and the giant memory-foam mattress? I’d picked those up from the curb in an affluent neighborhood and paid a truck service to haul them back. I smiled into the camera, clad in a silk pajama set, and waved at my followers. “A private chef? Oh, no, we have four staff members—so I don’t have to work or cook, of course!” “Leo goes to a regular public school nearby. It’s important for him to experience the real world, to develop his practical skills.” A comment popped up. 【Sister, your hair looks so luxurious! Must be salon-quality!】 I spotted the comment immediately. I laughed and picked up my thirty-dollar bottle of smoothing serum. “This? It’s all done at my private salon, darling, but I do have a little link below for a great dupe!” In that single hour-long stream, I covertly promoted eight different products. Later that night, I turned off the stream and let out a long, exhausted breath. The next morning, I heard Rhys talking to Leo in the living room. “Son, maybe we should skip the class field trip and spring picnic this year.” “Why, Dad? Everyone’s going! Gemma next door is going.” Rhys’s face darkened instantly. He clearly wasn’t pleased with Leo’s response. He sighed, carefully gauging Leo’s reaction, and continued, “But the picnic costs several hundred dollars. That money could buy Dad’s medication for a whole week, or groceries for a month.” He lowered his voice conspiratorially. “You know we don’t have a lot of money…” Leo lowered his head, his little hands tightly clutching the edge of his shirt. At that moment, a fire blazed up in my chest. “He is absolutely going! Why wouldn’t he go?” I converted the money I’d earned the day before into cash and pressed it into Leo’s hand. “Not only are we going, but we’re going to have the best time. We’re going to the grocery store. Buy snacks and drinks, and make sure you share them with all your classmates. Be generous.” Leo’s eyes lit up, but he glanced fearfully at his father. Rhys shot up to his feet, his lips trembling with rage. “Maya, where did you get that money? Why are you being so extravagant?!” “We should be modeling the right values for our financial situation! You’ll ruin Leo!” My eyes were glacial. “If not for me, would you rather let him be the only kid in class who gets excluded because he couldn’t pay the fee?” He frowned. “Kids are innocent and harmless. They wouldn’t bully Leo. Stop being so paranoid.” I rolled my eyes. “And so?” I took Leo’s hand and led him toward the door, intending to take him to the mall to pick out a new brand-name jacket. I told my son, “You deserve to feel included. You deserve all of this. You have the right to own it.” I pointed to a luxury car being displayed in the mall showroom. “See that, sweetie? Remember the brand and what it looks like. You can tell everyone that’s what our family drives.” Leo nodded obediently. “You are teaching him to lie!” Rhys roared. “You are beyond saving.” I offered Rhys a cold, half-smile, staring right into his eyes. “It’s just a white lie, Rhys. If it benefits us, what’s the harm?” 3 Leo’s popularity and overall standing in school improved significantly. A few days later, Leo’s teacher called me out of the blue. “Leo’s mother, something has happened at school. You need to come down right away.” My stomach dropped. When I rushed over, I saw Leo kneeling in the back of the classroom, sobbing uncontrollably. His palms were raw and red as he painstakingly wrote a letter of apology and repentance. My husband, Rhys, stood there, watching him with cold indifference. The cause: The school was holding a charity auction and asked each child to bring one item. At the store, Leo had been staring longingly at a twenty-nine-dollar toy car model. “Dad, can I buy this to take?” Rhys’s face instantly hardened. “Do you even know what our financial situation is?” He turned, picked up a discarded, worn-out stuffed bear someone had left on the floor, and stuffed it into Leo’s backpack. “We’re poor. We don’t need to try and play big shots in public. Don’t be like your mother, full of warped ideas, obsessed with materialism and money.” The old bear was dirty and smelly. Leo didn’t like it. His eyes welled up, and he whispered, “But everyone else is bringing nice toys…” “Are you comparing yourself to others again?” Rhys abruptly cut him off, his voice rising. “We can’t afford to compete with them. We may be poor, but we can’t be weak-willed. You need to learn frugality.” He squatted down. “Be good. We need to be simple and honest.” Leo lowered his head and said nothing more. On the day of the charity auction, Leo secretly took the money he’d saved in his piggy bank for an entire year and used it to buy the car model. Rhys found out. He stood over him, interrogating him like a criminal. “Where did you get that money? Did you steal it?” In an instant, Leo’s face turned scarlet. All the other children looked at him with contempt. “What did Leo’s dad just say?” “I thought their family was super rich?” “They can’t even afford a twenty-nine-dollar toy? LOL, he had to steal money?” “Guess they were just trying to keep up with the Joneses…” Rhys pointed a finger at Leo’s nose, his voice laced with disappointment and disgust. “At such a young age, you’ve already learned vanity and one-upmanship. What will you do for money when you’re older—commit crimes?” “I hate lying more than anything! If you cheat now, you’ll hurt people later!” “You’re just like your mother—a fraud, shallow, and full of lies.” By the end, he even sounded regretful. “I knew it. I knew you were both this kind of person…” Leo didn’t understand what his father was saying. Seeing the sheer disappointment in his dad’s eyes, he was frantic and incoherent. “Dad, please don’t be mad! I’m sorry, I was wrong…” Terrified, Leo reached out and tugged on his shirt. Rhys yanked away, his eyes cold. “You will go right now and return that toy. Then you will kneel here, write a public apology, and read it out loud!” Leo’s entire face was flushed a deep red. He buried his head low. In that moment, Leo’s sense of self-worth was silently and completely shattered. I pulled Leo into my arms, trying not to disrupt the other children. I led him to an empty space and fixed my gaze on Rhys. He was still blaming me. “If you hadn’t fed him all that rubbish, how would Leo have turned out like this?!” I stared back at him, utterly cold. Suddenly, I felt like the whole thing was beneath me. “Rhys, over the years, I accepted your ridiculous demands. I nearly killed myself working to pay for your illness. I even allowed myself to be strung along by you like a clown.” “But the one thing I absolutely will not accept is you harming my child for the sake of your so-called test.” I let the words hang in the air, then delivered the final blow. “Mr. Rhys, the pretense of poverty has gone far enough.” He froze, rooted to the spot.

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When I was desperate and penniless, I took a forged betrothal contract and scammed my way into the wealthy Vanderbilt family. I had their youngest son, Asher, wrapped around my finger. He’d say, “You’re so annoying.” I’d press against his lips and threaten, “Say that again and I’ll kiss you until your mouth is sore.” He’d turn his face away: “You’re bothering me.” I’d pin him down: “Believe it or not, I’ll punish you again!” He’d turn bright red, and I’d tease, “Oh, such an innocent boy~” He’d ignore me, leaving behind a proud back, and I thought he was just playing hard to get. Later, when the truth came out, I realized he truly didn’t like me. So I packed my bags overnight and fled the country. Five years later, we met by accident. I thought he was out for revenge. Before I could speak, tears fell from his eyes: “You little liar…” “Coax me,” he said, gripping my hand, his voice trembling. “Just coax me a little, and I’ll forgive you.” 1 Originally, the girl betrothed to the Vanderbilt family was Serena Thornton, the heiress. But her heart belonged to someone else. Her father, desperate, found me—a look-alike—and asked me to take her place. I was thrilled. God knows how broke I was. So, clutching the forged contract, I flew north to New York alone. Grandpa Vanderbilt arranged for me to get engaged to his grandson, Asher, when I turned 20. He let me live in the Vanderbilt estate and covered my tuition at NYU. Even better, Asher was rich and handsome. I hit the jackpot! But he didn’t seem too happy with me. He even knelt in the study, defying his grandfather, calling arranged marriages “archaic feudal nonsense.” He said he would absolutely never marry me. I panicked. This was cutting off my income! Unacceptable! So, thump, I knelt beside him, crying even louder than he was arguing. “Grandpa Vanderbilt, it’s okay. Although I like Asher very much, if he’s unwilling, I can’t force him.” “Please don’t be difficult. I’ll leave right now.” Before getting up, I looked at Asher with teary eyes: “It doesn’t matter if you don’t like me. It’s enough that I like you.” He froze. He pursed his lips, looking incredulous: “You… like me?” “Yes. Do you believe in love at first sight?” After all, he was an 18-year-old boy. Being confessed to in front of elders made him flush. “I…” His Adam’s apple bobbed, and he turned his head away. Grandpa Vanderbilt stood up with his cane: “It’s decided! Asher, you are both young and in the same university. Feelings can be cultivated.” Asher remained kneeling but didn’t object further. I thought this was a good start. As long as I coaxed Asher, everything would be fine. I didn’t expect chasing someone to be this hard! 2 For two whole years, I didn’t even touch the hem of his shirt. Fortunately, my coursework was heavy. I was either working part-time or in the lab. So I only made my presence known to him whenever I could. It wasn’t until three months before the engagement that I started to panic. I heard the queen bee of the Arts School was pursuing Asher like crazy. My roommate comforted me, saying it didn’t matter, since I was the beauty queen of our Science School anyway. Asher would reject everyone equally. Great comfort. Don’t do it again. But this did cause huge damage to my fragile soul. I was fired up. At least I had the advantage of proximity! So I started my campaign, showing extreme concern for Asher and pestering him relentlessly. Finally, on the night of our engagement, I forced myself on him. I admit, I was gambling. After all, feelings grow over time. Since the result was me marrying him anyway. The process didn’t matter, right? It was just a bit awkward in the moment: “Um, I didn’t expect you to have no experience.” Although I was a blank slate too. But my theoretical knowledge was rich. Asher knelt on the bed with his back to me, leaving me a proud back and ears red as blood. After a long while, he mumbled: “Did you think I was a player?” Not really. But with his looks, body, and family background, I assumed he would be… you know? Sure enough, prejudice is a mountain in people’s hearts. I apologized immediately. I poked his firm shoulder, trying to comfort him: “It’s okay. One minute for the first time is already great.” Asher gritted his teeth so hard I could hear it: “Maya, you have a dirty mouth.” “?” I looked it up!! He criticized me, so I tackled him again in anger. He turned his head away, gripping the sheets, looking like he was facing death. But he was really delicious. I admit I’m lustful. But it’s human nature. Who can resist a 6’2″ gorgeous college boy? So, possessed by a hungry wolf, I kissed him. Then I started messing around. Asher grabbed the back of my head and pulled me away a bit. Breathing unsteadily, he frowned: “You are so annoying.” I immediately pressed against his lips and threatened: “Say that again and I’ll kiss your mouth until it’s sore.” “Don’t say things I don’t like. I am your lawful fiancée now!” Then I gave him a quick peck. He pursed his lips tight, trying to reason with me: “Maya, that’s not how you kiss…” I leaned in and smacked him again: “So what?” His face was redder than a cooked shrimp: “How do I tell you? You have to do that, not this.” “What are you saying? Can’t understand.” I held his face and kissed him again. Asher covered his mouth, so angry he got out of bed and hid in the bathroom. 3 But our intimate life improved. Asher replaced theory with practice, frequently breaking his one-minute record. He wouldn’t be outdone in frequency either. It was a bit too much for me. After all, I had experiments and studies during the day. So I Googled: “How to make a boyfriend abstinent?” A sister replied: “Try a style he hates?” Epiphany. That night I bought a small whip. Asher said he hated the feeling of being controlled. Then I’ll annoy him! Sure enough, we straight-A students are smart. That day, after studying and showering, I changed into a dominant outfit. Because I observed he probably didn’t like the Lolita style either. Hiding the prop under the pillow, I waited for him to finish showering and enter the room, then stood up and ordered: “Come here and give me a massage.” His eyes darkened, and he walked over with a cold face. When his warm hands touched my calf, I shivered. Don’t panic. I pretended to be calm: “Asher, didn’t you eat?! Is that all the strength you have?” “Oh?” His tone held a dangerous note. “Oh what! Haven’t you heard? Girls like guys with strong service awareness!” His hand moved up and pinched me, not too light, not too heavy. I jumped. Asher narrowed his eyes: “What’s wrong?” His voice was hoarse. My eyes darted around, remembering my persona today was a Queen. So I immediately took the thing from under the pillow and swept it over his lower body. He grabbed it, making me almost fall into his arms. A chuckle came from above. I arched up, stood firm, and kicked his abs. Circling, rubbing. His breathing heavied, and he turned his face away: “You are annoying.” Annoying, right!! Success, sisters! So I pushed my luck, pinning him down: “Believe it or not, I’ll punish you again!” I have plenty of strength and means. The tips of his ears turned red with anger. I smiled playfully: “Oh, innocent boy~” But who can tell me why I was flipped over again? Today’s Asher was like a mad dog. I could barely keep my eyes open, kicking him: “Aren’t you tired? I can’t do this anymore.” “We’ve barely started.” “Didn’t you say you wanted to serve me well? Hmm?” I glanced sideways at my torn clothes and sighed secretly. Who said he didn’t like it? He liked it too much. In the end, he even made me hold the whip and brought his face close to mine: “Want to hit me?” “?” I had screamed all my strength away. If my roommate Vivi hadn’t urgently called me to watch a show at Asher’s college. I would have almost forgotten that the Arts School queen was still vigorously pursuing him. 4 The queen bee was said to be a wealthy heiress from the South, beautiful and from a good family. Honestly, she looked quite compatible standing next to Asher. Devastatingly beautiful. Vivi and I even discussed if her skin was so white because of some beauty treatment. So much so that when the crowd chanted for them to get together. We both forgot ourselves and applauded along, chanting: “Get together! Get together!” Vivi stopped abruptly: “Wait, she’s your rival. We shouldn’t do this!” What else? Should I act like a jealous wife? But the girl was just confessing with roses. I couldn’t run up to Asher and say “He’s mine, don’t touch him,” right? That’s too cringe. And… Before I could finish “and,” I saw Asher push her away with a dark face and walk towards me step by step. I instinctively took a step back. He grabbed my waist and pulled me back. I don’t know why, even though he was smiling, I thought his smile was scary. Amidst the surprise of Vivi and everyone else, he slowly said: “Sorry, I have a fiancée.” “An arranged marriage from childhood.” Then, ignoring everyone’s gaze, he dragged me away. Asher had an apartment near the school. We usually lived there. He was practically dragging me to fly. Finally, when I couldn’t walk anymore, he threw me over his shoulder. He pinned me against the door, held the back of my head, and kissed me. I could clearly feel the intensity of his movements and the invasion between my lips and teeth. It carried a hint of punishment. He didn’t want to give me any air at all. Kissing me until I almost suffocated. I reached out to push him away, but he grabbed my hands and pinned them above my head. His lips moved away a few centimeters, allowing me a breath of air. “Should I praise you for being generous? Fiancée?” Asher’s eyes were terrifyingly red, his expression obscure, gritting his teeth. The atmosphere was intense back there. But I couldn’t say that; it would make him angrier. So I softened my voice and kissed his dimple: “Not at all. I like you the most, the most.” “Cut it out.” He turned his face away. Looking like he couldn’t be coaxed. I broke free from his restraint and hugged his neck instead, acting coquettish: “It was my fault. How about I grant you one wish?” “Anything?” He raised an eyebrow. “As long as it’s not too excessive, anything.” “Save it,” he said. “Because right now, I have more important things to do.” Then he bent down, picked me up, and walked toward the bedroom. ???

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