Category: English

My five-year-old daughter is a compulsive liar. I took her shopping for school supplies, but in the middle of the street, she shrieked that I was a kidnapper, nearly getting me hauled to the police precinct for questioning. When we got home, before I could say a word, she burst into tears and launched herself into my husband’s arms, pouring out her fabricated grievances. “Daddy, Mommy wouldn’t buy me stationery, and she even hit me on the street!” I tried to explain my side to my husband, Rob, but to my shock, after listening, he exploded in a rage and slapped me across the face. “She’s only five years old! How could she possibly lie? How can you be so cruel to your own daughter!” Later, when I took our daughter to school, she knelt before me in front of all the other parents. “Mommy, please let me go to school! I don’t want to take revealing pictures for those men to see!” The teacher grabbed my phone and found it filled with inappropriate, suggestive photos of my daughter. Enraged parents shoved me into oncoming traffic, and I was instantly run over, my body flattened into a gruesome mess. Until my last breath, I couldn’t understand why the daughter I had carried for nine months would do such a thing. Then I opened my eyes, and I was back on the day I took my daughter to buy school supplies. 1 “Lily, Daddy and Mommy are going to take you to buy school supplies soon. We’ll make sure our Lily is the happiest little princess ever!” Our daughter, Lily, rejected Rob’s offer without a second thought. Instead, she came over and tugged on my sleeve. “Daddy, I want to go shopping with Mommy. All the other kids have their moms with them. Can you come shopping with me too, Mommy?” Lily had been living with my in-laws in a remote town since she was little, and she had only recently come home. With her making such a request, how could Rob refuse? “Honey, I’ll send you some extra money in a bit. Buy whatever Lily wants.” Rob said, his voice laced with indulgence. “She’s still so young. We’ve really let her down before.” Hearing those familiar words, my heart felt like it was being squeezed by a giant, invisible hand, stealing my breath. A chilling realization washed over me: I had been reborn. In my previous life, I had listened to Rob’s words, happily taking Lily to the mall to buy school supplies. But once we were there, Lily insisted on buying a razor-sharp craft knife. I told her the knife was too dangerous. Lily promised she’d be careful, even volunteering that little kids shouldn’t touch knives. My heart swelled with relief, and worried that she didn’t feel close to me, having grown up away, I took her to play some games. But as soon as we reached the mall entrance, Lily plopped herself onto the ground. She screamed, a heart-wrenching, ear-splitting wail: “Don’t take me away! Help me! She’s a kidnapper!” The mall was packed. Hearing her desperate cries, people rushed over, forming a curious crowd. I desperately tried to explain, and finally, a few people seemed to soften, on the verge of believing me. But the next second, Lily pointed at me and shouted, “She really is a kidnapper! She’s trying to abduct me!” The furious onlookers quickly called the police. I was taken to the precinct for questioning and only released much later. I couldn’t understand why my daughter, who was so well-behaved at home, would tell such a brazen lie in public. I was furious, determined to teach her a lesson. But when I got home, before I could even open my mouth, her first action was to throw herself into Rob’s arms and accuse me. 2 “Daddy, save me! Waaah, I wanted the superhero stationery, but Mommy wouldn’t buy it, and she hit me!” “It hurts so much, it hurts!” Rob lifted Lily’s sleeve, his face instantly contorting in horror as he saw several purplish bruises on her arm. I gasped, about to ask what had happened. Rob angrily put Lily down and slapped me hard across the face. “Do you even act like a mother?! How could you hit your own child?!” I desperately tried to explain. “She’s lying! Those injuries aren’t from me!” I was about to tell Rob that Lily had lied about me being a kidnapper at the mall, getting me taken to the precinct. But he didn’t believe a word, cutting me off and launching into a furious tirade. “She’s only five years old! How could she possibly lie?! How can you be so cruel to your own daughter?!” Because of this, Rob even cut off my household allowance. My heart sank, utterly despondent, and I stopped trying to explain, instead quietly tucking away a seed of suspicion. I thought this incident was just a fluke. But then, as I was taking Lily to school, she actually knelt before me at the school gate. “Mommy, please let me go to school! I don’t want to take revealing pictures for those men to see!” I froze, stunned. Before I could react, the kindergarten teacher rushed forward, digging into my shoulder bag and pulling out a stack of photos. Written on the back of the photos were names, presumably of buyers. The teacher gasped, hugging Lily protectively as she glared at me. “How could you treat your own daughter like this? You’re an animal!” Before I could explain, the enraged parents shoved me into the middle of the road, where I was instantly run over, my body crushed beyond recognition. In my dying moments, Lily’s malicious gaze flashed before my eyes. It was a look no five-year-old girl should possess. I died without ever understanding why the daughter I had carried for nine months hated me so much. Yet, every night, when I held her to sleep, she would hug my arm, gently kiss my cheek, and whisper, “Mommy, I love you the most.” Since I had been reborn, I was determined to find out exactly what was going on. Thinking this, I glanced at Rob, who was preparing to work from home. “Honey, Lily just got back. Why don’t you drive us there?” Since he believed our child couldn’t lie, this time, I would let him witness firsthand how she manipulated the truth. Rob agreed without a second thought. At the mall, Lily hopped out of the car, and Rob stayed in the car, waiting for us. “I just got a notification. I have some work to take care of. You two go ahead and shop. You can just come back here afterward.” I nodded, taking Lily’s hand as she skipped into the stationery store. Just like in my previous life, the moment Lily saw the craft knife, she pounced on it. “Mommy, I want this one! It has a design on it! Can we buy this, please?” 3 I shook my head, squatting down to reason with Lily. “This craft knife is too sharp, darling. Mommy will go ask if they have another one just like it, but not so sharp, okay?” Lily’s gaze was pure, and for a moment, my heart softened. Soon, with the help of a sales associate, I bought an identical craft knife that wasn’t sharpened. Lily happily held her new stationery, flashing me a sweet smile. “Thank you, Mommy! You’re the best!” Perhaps, in my previous life, it was simply because I hadn’t bought her what she wanted that she acted that way? Now that I had fulfilled her wish, she would surely grow closer to me. Watching Lily behave completely normally on our way, I breathed a sigh of relief. But I never expected that as soon as we reached a crowded area, she would wrench her hand free from mine and scream. “Help! She’s a kidnapper! She’s trying to abduct me!” In that instant, my heart completely froze. I had wondered countless times in my previous life if Lily’s cry of “kidnapper” was just a fit of pique. And since she had grown up with my in-laws in the countryside, perhaps my mother-in-law had casually used the term to scare Lily into behaving, and Lily had simply remembered it and reacted that way. But now, I had already given her what she wanted, and she still… At the words “kidnapper,” everyone turned to stare. Soon, people approached, their faces wary, asking what was happening. “She’s a kidnapper! She’s trying to abduct me! Help me!” Before I could answer, Lily sat on the ground and screamed, tears streaming down her face. Lily was so young, and her crying seemed to convince many people. “How could such a small child lie? What exactly are you doing?” “Don’t even think about running! We’ve already called the police. You’ll be going to the precinct when they get here.” A few men even rushed forward, intending to hold me down. Just then, a familiar figure appeared in the crowd. My eyes lit up, and I shouted, “Rob, quick, explain to everyone!” In an instant, all eyes turned to Rob Maxwell. Earlier, while Lily was picking out stationery, I had sent Rob a message asking him to bring us some coffee. Now that Rob was here, everyone assumed he was my accomplice and swarmed him. Seeing this, Lily’s sobs suddenly quieted, a look of bewilderment on her face. Rob, seeing the situation, grew even more anxious than I was. He struggled to explain to the bewildered onlookers that we were a family. In the end, he was also taken to the precinct for questioning by the quickly arriving police. 4 Rob emerged from the precinct, his face dark with fury. The moment he entered the house, he lunged to hit Lily. “Are you out of your mind?! Why did you tell everyone out there that we were kidnappers?!” Rob’s face was livid with anger. He slapped Lily’s bottom, making her yelp and burst into tears. Watching the scene, I felt a surge of satisfaction. He used to constantly accuse me of scolding our daughter. Now that it was his turn, why couldn’t he grasp that same logic? I quickly pulled Lily into my arms, stroking her head to comfort her. “Honey, she’s just a child, playing around. Why are you getting so angry?” “What if you hurt Lily?” Rob’s hands trembled as he pointed at Lily. “Do you have any idea what kind of trouble her lies have caused? One of my most important clients was just there, and after seeing that, he’s ready to terminate our partnership. How am I supposed to explain this to my boss?!” “And you’re still protecting her right now! Who knows what else she’ll do in the future?!” So that was it. His work was affected. No wonder he was so furious when he came home today. I cut him off, uncaring. “It’s just one client. We finally got Lily back home. You shouldn’t be so harsh on her.” “And why are you speaking so harshly? She’s just a child, it’s not that serious.” With that, I hugged Lily, my eyes filled with disdain as I looked at him. “Are you just trying to blame Lily because you messed up your own work?” Didn’t he think a five-year-old child couldn’t lie? In my previous life, before I could even explain to Rob, he blamed everything on me. These were the very words he had thrown at me before, and now I returned them to him, word for word. How does it feel to be falsely accused, Rob? Rob’s eyes blazed with fury, but in the end, he simply turned and stormed off. “Just keep spoiling her then!” I stroked Lily’s head, comforting her. “It’s okay, it’s okay. Mommy will take you to school tomorrow.” Lily looked at me, her eyes wide with fear, clearly scared of me. A flicker of doubt crossed my mind. I hadn’t done anything, so why was she so terrified? Rob must have been truly infuriated by me; he didn’t return home until nightfall. After tucking Lily into bed, I began searching the house. In my previous life, when I took Lily to school, Ms. Davies had pulled those photos from my bag. The photos must have been taken beforehand, and they had to be hidden somewhere in the house now. I searched every room and finally found a metal box with a combination lock under Lily’s bed. I tried Lily’s birthday—wrong. Then I tried Rob’s birthday—and the box clicked open. Opening the box, I froze. The mystery that had plagued me for two lifetimes was finally revealed. I finally understood why my daughter had so meticulously plotted to kill me.

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After years of backbreaking work, I’d finally scraped together a small fortune—enough gold to fill my palm ten times over. Once I bought the Sunstone Amulet from the pawnshop, Alaric and I could finally go home. But Alaric, in the dead of night, stole all the money. The very next morning, he returned, leading a woman of exquisite beauty, delicate and graceful as a blossom. He said, “Seraphina has endured such a tragic past; I simply couldn’t stand by and do nothing.” I glanced at my own slightly creased woolen gown, then at the sumptuous brocade gown the woman wore. It was woven with threads of gold and silver, meticulously embroidered. I recognized her. Seraphina, the celebrated Lute Master from the Whispering Lyre Salon. My voice was hoarse as I asked, “Where is the rest of the money?” Even if Seraphina was a star attraction, her release wouldn’t cost the full ten Gold Sovereigns. Alaric, avoiding my gaze, licked his lips nervously. “Seraphina is accustomed to the finer things from her time at the Whispering Lyre. So, I bought her some jewelry and gowns.” With that, he pulled a few meager Silver Crowns from his pouch and placed them on the table. I took a deep breath, forcing my trembling hands to stillness. “Alaric, you know what that money was for.” Alaric’s face flashed with impatience. “Oh, come on, Agatha. We can always earn more. Can you truly bear to see Seraphina performing night after night, pouring wine and forcing smiles?” “You’re a woman too; how can you be so devoid of compassion?” Before Alaric could continue, Seraphina spoke up from beside him. “I, humble as I am, know that such a great kindness can never be fully repaid. I am willing to serve Master Alaric and Lady Agatha as your faithful servant, to show my gratitude.” Her eyes were red-rimmed, as if on the verge of tears. Alaric quickly soothed her with a gentle voice. “Money is but a trifle. Now that you have no place to go, you can stay here at the inn for a while. Come, I’ll show you to a room.” He led Seraphina upstairs, not sparing me another glance. I didn’t know if he dared not, or simply chose not to. I reached out, scooped the few Silver Crowns into my pouch, and reopened the ledger. This inn, The Wayfarer’s Rest, Alaric and I had established three years ago. It was our second year after being transported to this strange world. Unlike the tales of transmigration I’d read, we were nothing more than ordinary folk. We had relied on our memories, crafting various trinkets to sell from a street stall, before we could afford to acquire this inn, finally giving ourselves a place to call home. Later, I even opened a small House of Lumina, selling my custom scents and balms. But to gather the money, I had recently sold the parlor. The funds from that sale… were now adorning Seraphina. Excluding our time here, Alaric and I had been together for five years. We were at the precipice of marriage. Since arriving here, my only desire was to find a way back home as quickly as possible. Two years ago, during a visit to The Abbey of Whispering Pines outside the city, I met a Reverend Brother. The Reverend Brother spoke in riddles, yet his words seemed pointed. “Ten Gold Sovereigns shall procure the golden Sunstone Amulet, and the lost shall find their serene passage home.” I searched all of Lyra, and only one pawnshop held such a golden Sunstone Amulet. From that day forward, I toiled from dawn till dusk, running between the inn and my parlor, even setting up a street stall when I had a moment. Alaric, meanwhile, would occasionally lend a hand at the inn, but more often than not, he was out meeting with friends. He claimed these connections would benefit our business. Thinking of this, a sliver of doubt began to creep into my mind. Had his previous outings truly been for friendly gatherings, or for a clandestine rendezvous with a paramour? A sudden knock at the door broke my reverie. It was Alaric and Seraphina. I had no desire to speak with them at that moment, but Seraphina stepped forward first, linking her arm through mine. “Lady Agatha, once I repair the strings of my lute in a few days, I’ll be able to earn alongside you both. Master Alaric worked so hard to secure my release; I won’t fail to repay his kindness.” I didn’t bother to correct her. Every single coin had been earned by me. Given my need for funds, and her undeniable talent, I knew she could indeed be of some use. Leaving aside everything else, her skill with the lute was truly unparalleled. Alaric moved closer, lowering his voice. “Agatha, I spoke too harshly today. Don’t be angry. Don’t worry, we’ll earn the money back quickly. Just focus on running the inn well.” With that, he moved back to Seraphina’s side. They exchanged a tender smile, their eyes holding a silent, intimate conversation, while I stood by, feeling utterly like an outsider. As they stepped out of my room together, an indescribable sense of desolation washed over me. I had just noticed a string of small, polished stones adorning Seraphina’s neck. Alaric had bought those two years ago; I had seen them by chance. But he had claimed they were a birthday gift for some young lord. Now it seemed, that young lord’s name was Seraphina. So they had known each other for a long time. Had Alaric planned to use the money to buy her freedom all along? I licked my parched lips. Bitter. So bitter. I sat in the room, stunned for a long while, then it suddenly struck me that instead of agonizing over endless possibilities, I should confront him directly. But I searched for a while and couldn’t find either of them. A stable boy told me Alaric had taken Seraphina out, saying he wanted to show her around Lyra. I couldn’t help but laugh. Seraphina had probably lived in Lyra longer than he had; she hardly needed him as a guide. “Did he forget he was supposed to procure the ale and provisions today?” “I spoke with the Master, Lady, and he said your presence would suffice.” Alaric didn’t return until dusk. Watching him, his arms laden with packages, I felt a strange flicker of unreality. The top box held The Serenity Sweet, from The Golden Griffin Manor, the most renowned eatery in Lyra. Not only was it a limited delicacy, but even queuing for it would cost dozens of Silver Crowns. Last year, around winter festival, I’d mentioned to Alaric that I wished I could taste The Serenity Sweet before we left. It was said that those who partook of it would know such earthly delight that they would forget all past sorrows. But Alaric had scoffed. “Just a stale pastry sold for such a ridiculous price. Our savings have a greater purpose. Don’t you want to go home sooner?” I thought he was right; compared to any sweet, I wanted to go home sooner. Now, looking back, it was utterly ironic. Seraphina saw me and greeted me warmly. “Lady Agatha, Master Alaric queued for so long today to get this. The Serenity Sweet is truly delicious! Would you like a taste?” Seraphina’s bright smile at that moment was blinding, making my eyes sting. I couldn’t manage a smile. Stiffly, I called out to Alaric, “Come with me.” Once we were out of sight of others, I turned to face Alaric, my gaze locked with his. “Are you smitten with her?” Alaric’s face darkened. “Agatha, can you not always be so suspicious? I merely took her out for some shopping. What nonsense are you spouting? Is your heart truly so small?” A searing anger coiled in my chest. I couldn’t help but raise my hand and slap him. Alaric stared at me, his eyes wide, momentarily stunned. Seraphina, however, let out a soft cry and quickly rushed over. “How could you strike Master Alaric?” Seraphina’s face was filled with shock. She clutched Alaric’s arm with one hand and gently touched his cheek with the other. Alaric finally snapped back to reality. “Agatha, what madness has seized you?” “You are but Master Alaric’s adopted sister. For Master Alaric to provide for your sustenance and shelter is already a great kindness. How can you repay his generosity with such malice?” Seraphina’s face was etched with indignation. “Adopted sister?” I slowly repeated the words. When we first arrived in Lyra, for convenience, we had agreed to pose as siblings. But over time, the neighbors and our own staff had simply assumed Alaric and I were husband and wife; no one had mentioned “siblings” in ages. I had actually considered getting married then, but ultimately decided it should wait until we returned home, to be wed in the presence of our parents and loved ones. Later, consumed by earning money, I hadn’t given it much thought. Alaric lowered his gaze, not immediately answering me. “Alaric, say it again. Am I your adopted sister?” I felt a tightness in my throat, barely suppressing the tremor in my voice. Seraphina also turned to look at him. Alaric looked up at me, then immediately shifted his gaze to Seraphina. He nodded slightly, and finally spoke. “Yes.” Seraphina’s anxious expression completely relaxed. She quickly pulled Alaric toward her room, saying she had a fine salve that could soothe the redness and swelling. And I, I just stared blankly at Alaric’s retreating back, for a long, long time, without turning away. That night, I tossed and turned, unable to sleep, my mind replaying every moment from when Alaric and I first met to when we fell in love. The next day, I didn’t rise until the sun was high in the sky. Seraphina and Alaric were already out again. Even though my spirits were low, the inn’s business couldn’t stop. Now, my only thought was to raise the money and go home as soon as possible. If Alaric didn’t want to leave, then so be it. In the afternoon, when the inn quieted down, I ventured out alone, intending to visit the pawnshop and see if the golden Sunstone Amulet was still there. I hadn’t expected to walk just two streets when I heard a shout. “Fortunes told! Fortunes told!” I had no mind for divination and didn’t even bother to glance over, but unexpectedly, a carriage galloped past. Startled, I stumbled and dodged to the side, falling right into the stall. Immediately, a wave of dizziness washed over me. The stall owner beside me was still chanting, “Oh, lady, have your fortune told. It’s remarkably accurate.” When I finally managed to stand, I saw the person at the stall. He looked exactly like the Reverend Brother I had met at The Abbey of Whispering Pines two years ago. I grabbed his sleeve. “It’s you! Aren’t you a Reverend Brother? Why are you a fortune teller?” The false Reverend Brother was startled when he recognized my face. He tried to flee, but I held him in a death grip. “Lady, I know nothing. You’ve mistaken me for someone else.” I casually pulled a Silver Crown from my pouch and slammed it down. “Tell me the truth, and the money is yours. If not, we’re going straight to the Royal Bailiff’s Office!” The fortune teller eventually spoke. He had always made a living by telling fortunes. Two years ago, a young lord approached him, promising him fifty Silver Crowns if he followed his instructions. All those words about the Sunstone Amulet had been fed to him. He had then taken the money and returned to his homeland. Now that it was spent, he was back at his stall. “So the Amulet… it was a lie?” I was both shocked and furious. “I know nothing else. The young lord taught me everything I said.” I slowly released my grip, turning to run towards the pawnshop. The pawnshop owner readily admitted the deception. He even handed me the Amulet directly. “Lady, I truly couldn’t bear to keep deceiving you. This stone is only worth fifty Silver Crowns. If you like it, I’ll give it to you for half price.” “I truly don’t know why he insisted on keeping it from you. A mere stone, and yet he didn’t want you to acquire it.” I knew. I knew why he kept it from me. Because he needed to purchase Seraphina’s freedom. I still took out the money and bought the Amulet. But my feelings were completely different from what I’d expected. All that long anticipation had been a mere illusion. I could never go home. He had been so cruel, deceiving me to such an extent. My heart ached fiercely, and I raised a hand to my cheek, thinking I must have been crying. To my surprise, not a single tear had fallen. When I returned to the inn, Alaric and Seraphina were seated closely together. Alaric’s gaze towards her was full of tenderness. I suddenly remembered the night he confessed his feelings to me, standing beneath my window with a bouquet of vibrant red roses, his expression similarly ardent. It was sickening. I reached out and tossed the Sunstone Amulet before him, staring at him, not speaking immediately. Alaric instinctively blurted out, “How did you… Where did you get the money for this Amulet?” “Only fifty Silver Crowns. I can afford it.” Alaric’s unfinished words caught in his throat. A hint of discomfort appeared on his face; he must have guessed I knew everything. I didn’t linger on his reaction, continuing, “Alaric, this inn, we built it together. Calculate its worth and give me my share in Silver Crowns.” He finally reacted. “What do you mean?” “A division of assets.” It was laughable, really. We weren’t even married, and yet here we were, talking about a division. Alaric stood up abruptly, his expression shocked. “You’re leaving? You know full well this Amulet…” “Yes, I know I can’t go back, and that you deliberately deceived me. But now, the sight of you makes me sick. I don’t want to stay here.” “Lady Agatha, there’s no such thing as a woman demanding a division of assets!” Seraphina suddenly interjected. “This is not your concern.” No sooner had I spoken than Alaric quickly stepped forward, shielding Seraphina. “Don’t take your anger out on Seraphina. It’s just a bit of money used, is it really worth this fuss?” “Besides, that money wasn’t earned by you alone. Can you stop being so unreasonable?” I looked at Alaric’s self-righteous expression, and a fire blazed within me. “I said I want a division! You can spend your money on whomever you please, but don’t you dare touch my share.” “If you don’t want to give it, then I’ll give you money. Take your Seraphina and get out.” I pulled out my own pouch of Silver Crowns and slammed it onto the table, then looked straight into Alaric’s eyes, afraid of showing any weakness. But Alaric, to my surprise, calmly sat down. “A division is acceptable, but… Agatha, you won’t get a single coin.” My breath hitched. Watching his demeanor, I suddenly felt my certainty waver. “Don’t forget, my name is on the Royal Charter, and I alone signed the deed. This inn belongs solely to me.” Alaric’s lips curved into a smirk as he leisurely looked at me. All the blood rushed to my head. A booming sound, and my entire body felt numb. “Don’t forget, this is Lyra.” “Without me, how will you survive?” Alaric’s words, one by one, hammered into my heart. I clenched my fists tightly, completely unaware that my fingernails were digging deep into my palms. Seeing that I didn’t respond, Alaric’s tone softened slightly. “Agatha, I was afraid you’d lose hope, and I didn’t mean to deceive you. Just manage this inn well. I’m not a heartless man.” His expression at that moment seemed particularly sinister. “So, you mean I earn the money for you to spend?” “Why should I?” Alaric’s expression seemed completely self-righteous. “Because this is Lyra. Here, men rule the household.” I looked at him, and felt utterly alien.

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For ten years, I harbored a secret crush on Layla, my childhood sweetheart. Then, a devastating car accident left her unable to walk again. Her fiancé, Brandon, and all the men who’d once vied for her attention vanished overnight. Even the wealthy Harrison family disowned her as an heir. Only I stayed, putting my own education on hold, dedicating two years to caring for her, and tirelessly searching for top specialists. But the moment she stood on her own two feet again, she shattered my world. At the engagement party I had secretly arranged for her, she publicly announced her decision to fulfill her previous engagement to Brandon Thorne. When I confronted her, Layla clutched my hand, her voice laced with deep affection. “Karl, I can’t let it go. I’m marrying him to get revenge for him abandoning me back then. You have to believe me, I only love you.” Yet, during a game of Truth or Dare, Brandon, holding the King card, pointed at me. “Karl Reed, pick any girl here, and kiss her for one minute.” My eyes, pleading for help, sought Layla’s. But she just turned her head away. “Don’t look at me, Karl. I’m exclusively Brandon’s.” 1 I stood there, frozen in awkwardness. A few girls nearby exchanged knowing glances, one of them even brazenly calling out, “Karl Reed, I can totally help you out! You’re handsome, so I wouldn’t be losing anything.” Brandon, his arm draped around Layla’s shoulders, smirked. “Karl, don’t tell me you’re a sore loser. If you can’t handle it, just take the penalty shot.” Layla leaned into Brandon, her gaze sweeping over me with a dismissive indifference. It was just a fleeting glance, but no one in this world understood Layla better than I did. I knew that look. I picked up the shot glass of hard liquor from the table and downed it in one gulp. “Karl Reed, are you insane? You forgot you have a severe alcohol allergy?!” Everyone in this social circle knew about my condition. A fiery pain erupted from my throat, searing its way down to my stomach. “Layla, can you drive me home so I can take my medication?” Since she wouldn’t kiss me in front of Brandon, and she obviously didn’t want me interacting with other girls, surely she’d be willing to leave with me. She was the only one on the floor who couldn’t drink, given she was still on her herbal remedies. It made perfect sense for her to drive. “Layla, I’m not done having fun yet.” Brandon whined, playfully squeezing her hand. Someone in the room, I don’t know who started it, suddenly shouted, “Real couples are way more fun to watch! How about a one-minute French kiss from Mr. Thorne and our own Ms. Harrison?” The entire room erupted in cheers, their attention no longer on me. My face was already flushed with an unnatural redness, and my throat began to itch. Their bodies entwined, the crowd started a countdown. “Fifty-eight, fifty-nine… fifty-eight, fifty-seven, fifty-six…” Layla kissed him with a raw, abandoned passion. From my angle, I could see her eyes closed, her lashes fluttering. Her earlobes were faintly pink—a tell-tale sign of her deep arousal. They might have kissed until the end of time, but I couldn’t hold on any longer. I pushed open the villa door. As I was about to step out, I looked back and saw Layla pulling away from Brandon’s lips. Under the dazzling lights, a thin, glistening thread of saliva connected their mouths, an intensely intimate and sickening sight. Perhaps it was the allergic reaction, but my chest felt tight, and I struggled to breathe. Outside, the cool breeze hit me, and my skin began to itch uncontrollably. I resisted the urge to scratch and pulled out my phone to call a ride-share. But Hillside Heights Estate was too remote; no drivers were picking up requests. After waiting for ten minutes, a driver finally accepted, only to cancel the order less than a minute later. At that moment, the humiliation that had been building up completely overwhelmed me. Why did they give me hope, only to snatch it away? The ride-share driver was like that, and so was Layla. My eyes burned, and I crouched down, clutching my shoulders. I must have looked utterly pathetic, weeping and scratching my whole body, like a frantic, desperate monkey. Suddenly, headlights glared, blinding me. By the time my vision cleared, a car had pulled up beside me. The driver’s side door opened, and a woman emerged, dressed in casual athletic wear. As she stood over me, I finally recognized her features. “Karl Reed, what on earth happened to you? You look like death warmed over!” My voice was hoarse, raspy. “Aunt Isabel, my throat is swelling. If you don’t get me home for my medicine, I’m going to die.” 2 Isabel Harrison drove like a maniac, speeding down the road. I gripped the grab handle above the car door, my knuckles white. “Aunt Isabel, I won’t die just yet.” Isabel was Layla’s aunt, her father’s younger sister. “Don’t worry,” she said, her voice laced with what sounded like contempt and anger, “I’m not that useless girl, Layla.” I didn’t know why, but Isabel’s tone was filled with both disdain and a sharp edge of fury. “You’re in this state from an allergy, and what was she doing? Why didn’t she take you to the hospital?” A bitter ache spread through my chest. “She’s not obligated to always take care of me.” “And you were obligated to be her caretaker when her legs were broken?” I lowered my head, remaining silent. Layla and I had grown up together. But in high school, my father’s investments failed. My mother divorced him and married his business rival. My father, unable to bear the shock, entrusted me to his closest friend—Layla’s father—before jumping to his death. So, before high school, I was Layla’s childhood best friend; after, I was an orphan living in her family’s home. After Layla’s car accident, her bones healed, but she simply couldn’t stand up. Mr. Harrison took her to specialists both domestically and abroad, but every diagnosis pointed to irreparable nerve damage. There was no hope of her ever walking again. Mr. Harrison visibly aged ten years overnight. Layla, once a brilliant, favored daughter, transformed into a volatile, bitter invalid. She lashed out indiscriminately at everyone who approached her, including her own father. In despair, Mr. Harrison effectively disowned Layla as an heir and called back his sister, Isabel, who had been traveling the world, entrusting the Harrison Corporation to her. Layla, realizing she’d been abandoned, became even more furious. Only I, ignoring her vicious curses and physical attacks, continued to approach her, to hold her. “Even if the whole world abandons you, I will stay by your side.” I gave up the diploma and degree from a top national university that I was on the verge of earning. I took her to live in a perpetually spring-like coastal town in the South. I cared for her for two years. After she fully recovered, she took my hand and stood before Mr. Harrison and Aunt Isabel. “My recovery, my second chance at life, it’s all because of Karl Reed. I want to be with him forever.” Mr. Harrison’s eyes were brimming with tears of relief, while Isabel simply said, calmly, “Remember what you said.” Layla re-entered the Harrison Corporation, once again becoming the center of attention, the “golden girl.” Those who had once shunned her, now rushed to put her back on a pedestal. Even Brandon Thorne, her former fiancé who had been inseparable from her, only to break off their engagement after her injury forced her out of the company, came crawling back. Brandon had only to ask her, “Layla, didn’t you say you’d always love only me?” And Layla let go of my hand, carefully, deliberately, taking Brandon’s hand right in front of me. “I never intended to go back on my word.” Brandon squeezed her hand back, their fingers intertwining, and his eyes, full of triumph, provocatively watched me from a distance. Back at home, when no one else was around, Layla would throw herself into my arms again. “Karl, I can’t let it go. I’m only doing this to get revenge on him. I only love you.” Her hazel eyes, shaped like a peach blossom, held a deep, intoxicating affection that threatened to drown me. I had loved her for ten years. I was used to being by her side, used to respecting her decisions, even when I felt wronged. Isabel didn’t drive me home. Instead, she took me directly to the hospital. Doctors immediately hooked me up to an IV, pumping me full of anti-allergy medication. “Such a severe alcohol allergy, and you dared to drink hard liquor? Are you trying to die? If you’d come any later, you would have suffocated. Do you think our morgue is too empty?” the doctor snapped. Isabel stood by, watching my face, swollen like a balloon, being verbally flayed by the doctor. I wanted nothing more than to shrink into the bed. On Isabel’s face, two words were clearly written: “Serves you right.” “And you, as next of kin, why aren’t you keeping your… partner in line? Why are you just standing there? Go get the medication!” Indeed, night shift doctors, especially in the ER, seemed to have more pent-up frustration than a banshee. Watching the usually aloof Isabel look so sheepish, the tightness in my chest seemed to dissipate quite a bit. 3 The next morning, I woke up to Layla’s face, etched with guilt, by my bedside. “Karl, you’re awake? I was so worried yesterday when I went looking for you and you were gone. You came to the hospital? Why didn’t you call me? Do you know how anxious I was?” She leaned closer, gently stroking my swollen face. “Thank goodness you’re okay. Don’t throw a tantrum like that again, alright? Be a good boy.” Looking at the faint hickey on her neck, and listening to her chiding tone, I felt like I was speaking to a stranger. Where did I go wrong? Was my mistake not enduring the allergic reaction and suffocation, just to watch them make out? “What am I to you?” My voice was hoarse. She didn’t seem to hear me clearly. “What?” Her eyes darted nervously. “Are you saying you’re thirsty?” She turned her back to me to fetch a water glass, her tall, graceful figure moving freely. Her legs were completely healed, yet I found myself missing the days when she was confined to a wheelchair. Before Layla could hand me the water, the ward door swung open. “Karl Reed, you really got hospitalized for an allergy? Let me see what a severe alcohol allergy looks like.” Brandon entered, practically bouncing with excitement. He took one look at my face and burst into unrestrained laughter. “Our famous heartthrob, this is too hilarious! Your face is so swollen, your eyes are just slits!” He pulled out his phone and started snapping photos of me. “I’ll post these on social media. They’ll get so many likes.” I was in this state because of him, and now he was here to humiliate me further. In an instant, a surge of pure rage shot to my head. I snatched the water glass from Layla’s hand and hurled it at Brandon. The lid wasn’t tightly sealed. When the glass hit Brandon, water splashed onto his skin. He shrieked, jumping back. “Ow! That hurts!” Layla, in a flash, pulled Brandon into the bathroom and turned on the faucet. “Karl Reed tried to use boiling water to disfigure me! He’s so vicious!” Brandon’s accusatory voice carried from the bathroom. “Layla, I was just joking with him! Why would he do this to me? Is he jealous of our love?” Layla’s voice was hushed, but the sound of running water couldn’t entirely muffle her words. “He’s just an orphan our family took in. What right does he have to love me?” Ten minutes later, Layla stormed out, dragging Brandon behind her. Her face was dark, her voice icy. “Apologize.” But all I could hear was her earlier comment. What right do I have to love her? Suddenly, I felt ridiculous. Ever since I lost my family, I had supposedly lost the right to love her. So what was all that unwavering companionship for all these years? Ha. I knew. It was just the rent I owed for living in her house. My education, my ten years of devotion, two years of tirelessly caring for her… that rent was truly expensive. “Did you hear me?” she demanded, raising her hand and swiping it, hitting my IV line. A sharp pain shot through the back of my hand as the needle was tugged. “Apologize! Are you deaf?” She gripped my hand, pressing hard on the spot where the IV had come loose. It hurt so much I sucked in a sharp breath. “What are you faking? Is it more painful than being scalded by hot water?” Brandon complained, rubbing his arm. Layla’s grip tightened, and I felt the needle in my vein might pierce through. Sweat beaded on my forehead from the pain, but the ache in my heart was far worse. I bit back a cry, looking up at Layla. “Did I help you get back on your feet just so you could bully me?” I asked, enunciating each word. Her face twisted into a grotesque mask. She released my hand. “I knew it. I knew you only took care of me to make me indebted to you, to stand on some moral high ground and make me look up to you.” She stared at me, her gaze devoid of the old dependence, filled only with contempt. “Just like this moment.” In that instant, I laughed and cried at the same time. Layla, am I, Karl Reed, truly so contemptible? Looking at her distorted face, it wasn’t me who was contemptible, but my love—it was too pathetic. Then, I won’t love you anymore, okay?

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1 Lillian Vance, the rising starlet, had been dominating the entertainment headlines for days. Just yesterday, news of her intimate antics with a co-star on set had gone viral. Today, however, a new spectacle unfolded: the city’s most coveted advertising space, the colossal screen atop the tallest downtown skyscraper, ceaselessly scrolled a declaration of love for her. A gigantic poster of Lillian graced the left side, while the right blared, “Lillian Vance, I Love You.” The priciest ad space, purchased for the simplest, most direct declaration of affection. That evening, Liam Harrison, a rare presence at home, dropped a bombshell. “Lillian’s upset with me, and she’s proving particularly difficult to pacify this time,” he said, his voice as flat as if he were commenting on the weather. “Clara, what if we just… got a divorce for now?” I paused, the banquet guest list I’d been drafting slipping from my grasp, and looked up at him, my eyes clouded with confusion. “Don’t worry, it’s just a formality,” he promised, his tone suddenly earnest. “We’ll remarry after things calm down. You’ll always be Mrs. Harrison.” I considered his words for a moment. “Alright,” I replied. Neither of us knew then that this ‘formality’ would be the first step in a diverging path, leading us further and further apart, a path from which we would never return to each other, never to remarry. My easy agreement to the divorce stemmed from a peculiar trust. I believed Liam wasn’t lying about remarrying. He saw our divorce as a mere trinket, a fleeting gift to appease his current mistress. It seemed Lillian Vance truly was different from his usual fleeting interests. Liam was a philanderer, but his infatuations typically flared and died with rapid succession. His companions rarely lasted beyond a month before he moved on to a new face. Yet, this time, the rising starlet, Lillian Vance, had held his attention for three months. Yesterday, her cozy news with a co-star went viral, and today Liam declared his devotion in such a public, extravagant display. He was actually jealous, a stark sign that his fascination with her hadn’t waned at all; if anything, he was behaving like a giddy teenager in the throes of first love. As for Liam wanting a divorce to placate another woman, my heart remained utterly unruffled. It wasn’t that we had never loved each other. But once that love had withered, Liam and I had, like so many high-society couples around us, settled into a façade of harmony. Our marriage had run the gamut: from initial blissful sweetness, through a gradual descent into monotony, followed by the inevitable arguments and histrionics, until finally, it had settled into this current state of profound silence and deathly calm. Ours wasn’t a strategic alliance; it began as a genuine romance. Liam and I met in high school. He was two years my senior, a shining star, a campus idol. I was just one of countless younger students who admired him from afar. I threw myself into my studies, determined to get into the same university he attended. Knowing he was involved in student council and the debate club, I diligently followed in his footsteps. Driven by a singular, audacious determination, I steadily closed the distance between us. And then, finally, he noticed me. During the annual student council showcase, my traditional dance performance captivated the entire audience, earning a thunderous ovation. As I took my bow, I distinctly saw him in the front row, his gaze alight with admiration, and indeed, a flicker of genuine interest. After the showcase, Liam began to pursue me. I feigned a touch of coy reluctance for a short while, but soon, we were officially an item. As a boyfriend, he was exceptional. He possessed vast knowledge and a broad intellect, yet he was never arrogant about it. Conversations with him were a delight. Back then, we had an endless stream of topics, chatting late into the night until the dorm lights flickered off, hanging up the phone with reluctant sighs. Despite being born into immense wealth – a true silver-spoon heir – he was surprisingly considerate. Though he’d never cooked a meal in his life, he would personally prepare a special birthday dish for me on my birthday. I considered my own family quite well-off, but compared to his, we were mere new money, practically parvenus. 2 Liam’s grandparents and great-grandparents had studied abroad years ago, returning to build their empire. Generations of his family elders were either titans of academia, industry moguls, or powerful corporate board members. My own family, on the other hand, hailed from humble rural roots. My father had left home in his youth to seek his fortune, catching the wave of the real estate boom to make his wealth. When he first proposed marriage, Liam had to put in a monumental effort, making countless promises before his parents finally gave their reluctant approval. Touched by his dedication, and determined to be worthy of him, I abandoned my chosen major during my graduate studies, switching directly to business. After graduation, I joined Liam’s family enterprise, working alongside him, hand-in-hand. I wanted his family to see that I was capable, that I could genuinely contribute, that I wasn’t just some decorative figure. Originally, his family had agreed he could spend a few years forging his own path after graduation. But to marry me, he promised to immediately shoulder the immense family responsibilities upon graduation. From then on, he worked tirelessly, day and night, without a moment’s respite. It took two arduous years before he fully took over all the group’s operations, finally finding his stride and becoming adept. On Valentine’s Day, he asked if I wanted to leave the company. He knew I didn’t enjoy business management, nor the cutthroat atmosphere of the corporate world. “You’ve worked too hard these past two years, Clara,” he said, his gaze warm and tender as he looked at me. “Don’t worry, I’ve got a handle on things now. I can manage on my own. Rest if you want to.” So, I left the company. But there was no ‘rest’ to be had. Even without direct business involvement, as the Chairman’s wife, the future matriarch of a prominent family, my plate was overflowing. To gain his family’s approval, I lived every day with meticulous care, weighing every word, every action. I had to actively help manage the charity organization his mother founded, personally overseeing every regular event. I needed to cultivate strong relationships with the wives of the group’s executives and partners. Invitations to other people’s galas required my polite attendance. And at home, we frequently hosted smaller soirées to foster connections with other high-society ladies. The Harrison family was vast, and deeply invested in its legacy. Every holiday necessitated a grand family dinner, with countless direct and extended relatives attending. After our marriage, Mrs. Harrison entrusted me with the responsibility of organizing these lavish gatherings. I remember the first one, for the Thanksgiving after our wedding. To ensure everything was flawless and to make a good impression on my mother-in-law, I began fretting about it a full two weeks beforehand. The two days of the dinner itself, I barely slept, my nerves strung taut. Thankfully, the dinner concluded perfectly. But after managing all the post-event details, I collapsed in the elevator. The doctor attributed it to extreme nervous tension and prolonged lack of sleep. I even made Liam promise not to tell either set of parents. I yearned for perfection, refusing to allow a single flaw. And through my tireless efforts, Liam’s parents, his sister, even his aunts, uncles, and other relatives slowly came to accept and embrace me. Yet, Liam cheated. 3 Perhaps I was too eager to prove myself, too desperate for his family’s approval. After we married, I poured all my energy into ‘management’ – first my career, then my relationship with his family. The marriage itself, the bond between us, genuinely received little of my focus. I could feel it myself: our encounters grew increasingly rare. Sometimes, we’d see each other only once or twice a month. The first time I discovered his infidelity, it felt as though my entire world was collapsing. That day, he’d made a rare trip back to the family estate. Liam’s parents had already retired after dinner, but I deliberately lingered over my meal, just to steal a few more moments with him. I was never sure if a phone call wouldn’t suddenly summon him back to the office after dessert – it had happened more times than I could count. When he excused himself to the restroom, his phone vibrated on the table. He’d always told me I could answer his calls anytime. For years, I had. So, instinctively, I picked it up and pressed ‘answer.’ A young woman’s soft, cooing voice purred from the other end: “When you come over tonight, darling, could you bring me a bag of roasted chestnuts? I’m craving them so badly.” Perhaps unable to fully process what I’d just heard, my mind seemed to freeze. I couldn’t even formulate a coherent thought, yet when I spoke, my voice was unnervingly calm: “Excuse me? Could you repeat that?” There was a moment of stunned silence on the other end, then the line went dead. It wasn’t until Liam returned that the reality of what had just happened truly crashed over me. I looked at him, my eyes burning with unshed tears. When I finally spoke, my voice was a tremulous whisper, almost unrecognizable: “She… she said to bring her a bag of roasted chestnuts…” Liam rushed over, his arms wrapping around me in a frantic embrace. “I’m so sorry, Clara. I didn’t mean it. I just… I had a moment of weakness. Can you ever forgive me?” I sobbed, demanding, “Why, Liam? How could you betray our marriage?” It had never once crossed my mind that Liam would ever be unfaithful. The betrayal shattered me; I was ill for a long time. Liam came home every day, staying by my side, personally preparing my meals, caring for me with a tender attentiveness. He apologized to me countless times, begging for my forgiveness. Unable to let go of all the years we’d shared, my heart softened, and I forgave him. But it wasn’t long before he cheated again. This time, facing my desperate pleas and raw anguish, he merely watched with cold indifference. There was no longer any hint of guilt, no apologies offered. “Clara,” he’d said, his voice flat, “this is just how our circle operates. You need to get used to it. No matter what I do outside, your position as Mrs. Harrison will never be threatened.” During that period, I plummeted into an abyss of self-doubt and agonizing contradiction. I couldn’t fathom it: how could people who supposedly loved each other betray one another? Was I not good enough? I became consumed by anxiety, suffering from severe insomnia, losing handfuls of hair, and looking utterly haggard. Recognizing my spiraling condition, I sought a therapist. My capacity for self-preservation had always been strong. With the doctor’s guidance, I slowly began to untangle my thoughts, shedding the endless struggle and self-consumption. Through a nearly brutal method of emotional detoxification, I forcibly excised Liam from my heart. The day I could watch him walk into a restaurant hand-in-hand with another woman, my expression unmarred, I knew: I had successfully rescued myself. No, I had never considered divorce. Since my marriage to Liam, my family’s business had soared. The Harrison family didn’t directly collaborate with us; my family’s business scale simply wasn’t significant enough for Harrison Group to even notice. But with that connection, the shrewd operators in the business world were eager to curry favor. Plus, riding the wave of the real estate boom that erupted in those years, my family had indeed flourished. 4 My family’s business was one reason I hadn’t considered divorce. Another was that during the first two years of our marriage, while I was still at Harrison Group, I participated in and spearheaded a major project that earned Liam’s father’s commendation. He decided to grant me a small share of the group’s stock. The annual dividends I received were a colossal sum, and that amount continued to climb each year. Just last year alone, my dividends, combined with the monthly allowance Liam gave me – a million dollars – and the occasional jewelry and cash gifts from Mrs. Harrison, totaled nearly two hundred million. It might sound a bit disingenuous, but at that point, I had everything within the Harrison family except love. A wealthy husband who rarely comes home – isn’t that the dream life many women fantasize about online? What more could I possibly be discontent with? I rationalized to myself that life couldn’t be perfectly complete; I shouldn’t be so greedy, wanting to have my cake and eat it too. Over the past year, I had adapted and even grown accustomed to this existence. Liam and I maintained a façade of happiness. Privately, he led his life, and I led mine. Gradually, I even found a quiet contentment. Sometimes, when he unexpectedly appeared after a long absence, I felt a peculiar unease. Deep down, I’d silently wish he would leave soon, feeling his presence disrupted my peace. When Liam and his new favored companion hit the entertainment news, I felt nothing. This rising starlet, Lillian Vance, was indeed different for Liam. She had broken the record for how long a woman stayed by his side. Over three months, and Liam showed no signs of boredom; if anything, he doted on her even more intensely. He even grew jealous when she was seen with other men – a reaction he’d never exhibited before. And now, to appease her, he was divorcing me. Not only that, the divorce had to be publicly announced. No doubt, it was another grand gesture for the girl’s benefit. Such elaborate, painstaking efforts – I couldn’t help but tease him. “Are you actually serious about her?” Liam’s expression turned serious. “You don’t need to probe, Clara. I promised you, you will always be Mrs. Harrison.” I scoffed inwardly. He’d promised to love me forever when we married, too. How much good had that done? Still, I suspected he wasn’t bluffing about the remarriage. By now, I was far too deeply intertwined with the Harrison family. Through my painstaking efforts, Liam’s parents had come to genuinely accept me as their daughter-in-law, truly embracing me as one of their own. Beyond corporate matters, they often bypassed Liam entirely, consulting directly with me on countless family affairs and social obligations. I could also sense Mrs. Harrison’s increasing reliance on me. Her friends sometimes joked, “‘Our Clara’ has become your catchphrase, hasn’t it? Alright, alright, we know you have a wonderful daughter-in-law!” That’s why, with this divorce, Liam insisted we present a fait accompli to his parents. Only after the legal waiting period, after we had the divorce decree in hand, did we inform Liam’s parents. When Liam personally delivered the news, his father nearly fainted with rage. It was the first time I’d seen Mr. Harrison Sr. explode in such a fury; he actually hurled his teacup at Liam, his usually steady hands trembling with indignation. “Preposterous!” he thundered, “To do something so utterly absurd! Do you treat marriage as a child’s game?” Mrs. Harrison was equally incensed. “Is that little actress poisoning your mind? Liam, play your games, but know where to draw the line!” Liam clutched his bruised forehead, trying to explain calmly, “I told Clara, we’ll remarry later.” His father’s voice boomed, “What ‘later’? Before the news gets out, go remarry her now!” “Actually, it’s too late,” Liam mumbled, already turning to make his escape. “I’ve already released the divorce announcement to the media.”

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My two older sisters, Lily and Daisy, were in a car accident and lost their memories. They forgot all about me, mistaking our parents’ friends’ son for their own younger brother. Lily, the eldest, gave him the inheritance our parents had left for me. Daisy, the second sister, used her influence to have my postgraduate study slot transferred to him. I thought they had genuinely forgotten me. Until one day, I accidentally overheard Lily say to Daisy: “Faking amnesia is exhausting. How about we just kick Ryan Brooks out? Then we won’t have to pretend anymore.” They wouldn’t need to kick me out. I would leave on my own, joining a twenty-year closed medical research program. For those two decades, I wouldn’t be able to contact the outside world or return home. When my sisters found out, they wept, heartbroken. 1 I was still carrying the cake, not yet through the front door, when I overheard Lily, my elder sister, speaking. “Alright,” Daisy, the younger sister, chuckled in response. “And without him, we can focus all our attention on little Ryan. It’s a win-win.” My entire body stiffened, and the cake in my hands nearly slipped. So, for the past six months, my two most beloved sisters, the ones I revered… they had been deceiving me. They hadn’t forgotten me at all. They knew Ryan wasn’t their real brother. Why? I couldn’t understand why they would lie to me like this. “But it’s his twenty-third birthday today,” Lily suddenly spoke again. “Wouldn’t it be a bit harsh to kick him out right now?” Lily still remembered my birthday. They remembered everything, yet for the past six months, they had treated me like a stranger. Countless times, they had thrown me out of the house. Countless times, they had showered Ryan with affection right in front of me. “He’s really looking forward to this birthday,” Daisy’s voice was utterly devoid of warmth. “That’s precisely why we need to make him leave today, on the day he anticipates the most. Only then will he truly give up and stop clinging to us.” The word “clinging” pierced my heart like a dagger. Thud. The cake I had lovingly baked myself dropped to the floor, the creamy frosting instantly smearing into a messy pile. In the past, on my birthdays, Lily and Daisy always prepared my cake. They would also prepare many delicious dishes for me well in advance. So, every birthday was the happiest day of my year. This time, I had also been full of anticipation. I hoped that my birthday might trigger some of their lost memories. But now, I knew. They had been faking their amnesia all along. 2 I walked into the house, carrying the ruined cake. Lily sat on the sofa, shelling pecans for Ryan. Daisy was peeling an apple for him, carefully drizzling it with honey. They used to treat me that way. Every time I came home for the weekend, they’d buy me tons of snacks, and they’d both play games with me. Actually, they’d been treating Ryan like this for months. They treated me like a stranger, greeting me with cold indifference every day I returned. They never even cooked for me. I’d told myself they had amnesia, so I hadn’t dwelled on it. “Ethan, come join us,” Ryan said, flashing a wide smile at me. He was the son of my parents’ friends. A year ago, his parents and mine were on a business trip together when they were involved in a fatal car accident. I was there too. In that critical moment, my father shielded me, saving my life. With his last breath, he told me, “You’re a man now, you have to take good care of your two sisters from now on.” I took his words to heart, willingly giving up my own dreams to stay in Glendale with Lily and Daisy. But soon after, they were also in a car accident, which resulted in their amnesia. When they woke up, they had forgotten me, believing Ryan to be their biological brother, and lavished him with affection. 3 “You, darling, are just too kind. These are from your big sisters, Lily and Daisy. Isn’t it better to have them all to yourself?” Lily said, stroking Ryan’s hair with a doting expression. Ryan chuckled. “Even though Ethan isn’t usually very nice to me, I believe I can win him over with my kindness.” Daisy cast a cold glance at me. “People like him can never be won over. Look at him, we’ve taken him in for so long, and not only is he ungrateful, but he keeps pushing his luck, shamelessly staying here, claiming he’s our brother.” A chill ran through me. My grip tightened on the ruined cake. Ever since they started faking amnesia six months ago, they’d treated me like a stranger, telling me to leave the Vance family home. But this was my home. I couldn’t leave. So every day, I told Ryan to get out, and I insisted to them that I was their real brother. But even though I presented evidence, even had DNA tests done, they refused to believe me. They claimed I was only pretending for their money. They’d tried to kick me out countless times; it was only by stubbornly refusing that I remained. Back then, I didn’t understand why, even with all the evidence laid bare, they wouldn’t believe me. Now, I finally did. I looked at Lily and Daisy, taking a step closer to them. I placed the ruined cake on the coffee table. Through the clear box, I could see the cream slowly melting, distorting the cake’s original shape. “Lily, Daisy,” I began, my voice choked with bitterness, “it’s my birthday today.” I couldn’t believe that the two sisters who had once been so loving towards me would now treat me so poorly for the sake of an outsider. They had to have a reason. I didn’t want to expose their pretense. I wanted them to tell me themselves. “How many times do we have to tell you? We are not your sisters!” Lily snarled, a look of disgust on her face. She probably forgot how much she used to adore me. Back then, she’d spend hours playing on the slide with me. She would always tell me, “Ethan, your big sister will always be with you.” “Exactly,” Daisy added, her face equally cold. “What does your birthday have to do with us?” Normally, she was such a gentle woman, and so gentle with me. She owned her own company and once told me, “Ethan, don’t worry when you strike out on your own. Your second sister will pave the way for you.” But now, they had both changed. Just like this utterly ruined cake, its original form completely unrecognizable. 4 Lily snatched the cake and tossed it into the trash can, looking at me with cold fury. “Ethan Vance, please don’t come to our house anymore. You’re not our brother, you have no right to live here.” I should have noticed the signs earlier. They claimed to have forgotten me, yet they remembered my name, Ethan Vance. They treated Ryan as their biological brother, yet they never questioned why his surname was Brooks. I had simply trusted my sisters too much, to the point of foolishness. I desperately wanted to expose their charade, but I held back. If I did, they would surely be angry, and then they truly wouldn’t want me anymore. A dull ache spread in my chest. I looked at them with pleading eyes. “Please, don’t make me leave. I… I only have you two.” I would never forget my father’s dying words. I wouldn’t give up on them. Lily paused, and for a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of emotion in her eyes. But after a few seconds, she spoke again. “No. You’re not our biological brother, so you can’t live here. Ryan is our brother.” Daisy rose and pushed me towards the door, her resolve unwavering. The pain was unbearable. I couldn’t believe they hated me so much. “Fine. I’ll go.” If my absence would make them happy, I was willing to leave. I turned to go, but then I heard Lily say to Ryan, “Ryan, your parents left you a substantial inheritance. I’ve already transferred it to your name.” My body stiffened, and I almost thought I’d misheard. Because of the inherent risks in our parents’ work, before their accident, they had already transferred all their assets to my two sisters. At the time, because I wasn’t yet 18, they had asked Lily to manage my portion of the inheritance. But now, she had actually transferred it to Ryan. Even if they had a good reason to treat him well, they shouldn’t have given him my money. I had no income now, and that was the money I had set aside for my postgraduate studies. 5 “Lily, that’s my money! You can’t give it to him!” I spun around, glaring at Lily, a surge of anger rising within me. To my surprise, she grew even angrier. She stood up and slapped me across the face. “How dare you have the nerve! You’re not even part of the Vance family anymore, what makes you think that’s your money?! That money was left for Ryan by our parents!” My ears rang, and my face throbbed. “You keep saying Ryan is your and Daisy’s real brother, but why is his last name Brooks?” I stared intently into her eyes, catching a momentary flicker of panic. But it quickly vanished, and she calmly fabricated a story. “Ryan was living on his own for a long time, raised by other people, that’s why his name is Brooks. As for you, you probably just made up that name yourself! You’re not our brother at all.” A cold dread settled in my heart. I thought if I spoke my mind this bluntly, they would stop pretending. But they kept up the charade. Lily, Daisy, what hardship are you enduring that makes you treat me this way? 6 In the end, I was still thrown out of my home. On my twenty-third birthday, the only two family members I had in this world abandoned me. I went to the university alone, planning to stay in a dorm room. But when I went to complete the enrollment procedures, I was told I hadn’t actually been accepted into the university’s postgraduate program. I froze. I distinctly remembered receiving an acceptance letter. I frantically searched my backpack, only to find my acceptance letter was gone. The staff member then said to me, “Think carefully. Did you perhaps get it wrong, or did you offend someone, and your acceptance letter was stolen?” I wasn’t stupid. I immediately understood the implication of her words. It could only mean someone had deliberately prevented me from pursuing my postgraduate studies. As this thought crossed my mind, I suddenly noticed several of Daisy’s friends. They were laughing and chattering, “Daisy is so good to Ryan! For him, she didn’t hesitate to give him her own brother’s postgraduate slot.” “Right, I wonder how she could be so heartless, even faking amnesia to make her brother suffer.” “You don’t know, do you? It’s because Ryan’s parents died saving Ethan back then. So Daisy and Lily feel they owe Ryan a huge debt.” I froze. The accident had happened so fast. Ryan’s parents died instantly. In the end, it was my father who saved me. Just then, I saw Daisy’s friends walk over to a car parked by the curb. Daisy got out of the car, with Ryan following behind her. My heart tightened. I rushed over. “Daisy, please, let me explain. The car accident wasn’t like that at all.” 7 Daisy heard my voice and glanced at me. But her face showed no emotion, only cold indifference. “I told you, I am not your sister! Stop calling me that!” At that moment, I couldn’t care less about anything else. I just wanted to explain everything to her. “Ryan’s parents didn’t…” Slap! She struck me hard across the face. “Are you trying to disrupt Ryan’s enrollment today? I’m telling you, get out now, or I’ll have someone forcibly remove you.” Lily had slapped me earlier, and now Daisy had too. To think that in the past, they wouldn’t even let a finger touch me. Now, because of an outsider, they were repeatedly showing such cruelty towards me. I clutched my stinging face, looking at her. “Daisy, this postgraduate slot is mine. I worked so hard to earn it. You can’t just give it away to Ryan.” She knew perfectly well how much effort I had poured into preparing for that exam. I had studied day and night. Back then, she and Lily had even encouraged me: “Keep going, Ethan. Once you get in, we’ll take you to buy a car.” Daisy’s eyes flickered, avoiding my gaze. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Ryan earned this himself!” With that, she pulled Ryan closer, her cold expression softening into tenderness. “Your second sister will take you to complete your enrollment. Once that’s done, we’ll go buy you a car.” Then, without waiting for me to speak, she directly pulled Ryan away. Her friends, unable to watch any longer, tried to console me. “Ethan, postgraduate studies aren’t everything. Go find a job.” But I had already promised my mentor that if I didn’t get into postgraduate school this time, I would agree to join a twenty-year closed medical research program. Once I joined, there was no quitting mid-way. For those two decades, I wouldn’t be able to contact the outside world or return home. Now, my postgraduate slot had been stolen from me. I had to honor my word. 8 I wandered the streets, utterly lost. My comm-unit vibrated. A trending news alert on the HoloNet showed Daisy taking Ryan to buy a car. Because Daisy had a HoloNet account with a significant following, and people didn’t know her family background, only that she was a successful entrepreneur, they believed her when she posted that Ryan was her brother. This time, someone had filmed her taking Ryan to buy a car, and netizens were commenting on how envious they were. I was envious too. All of this should have been mine. But now, it had been stripped from me by my two own sisters. My heart ached with pain. Lily, Daisy, do you truly not want me anymore? I went to Lily’s company. Downstairs, I wove a small cat out of foxtail grass. Many years ago, when our family was still poor and lived in the countryside, Lily, Daisy, and I found our greatest joy in weaving various small animals from foxtail grass. Back then, they always told me, “As long as a family’s hearts are connected, we’ll always be happy.” But now, their hearts were no longer connected to mine. Lost in thought, I saw Lily exiting the company building. I rushed over, holding out the woven cat to her. “Lily, look, I made this myself.” I looked at her expectantly, trying to stir some familial affection in her. But she merely gave it a cold glance, then slapped my hand away, sending the little cat tumbling to the ground. Just then, Daisy and Ryan arrived. Daisy saw the woven cat and stepped on it, crushing it. My heart sank. I looked up at them. Lily said coldly, “Get lost. Just looking at you annoys me.” Daisy added, “Such a bumpkin. Only country folk make things like that.” And Ryan, looking utterly triumphant, seemed to be saying to me, See? Your sisters don’t want you anymore. I clutched my chest, a profound ache settling within me. Seeing them turn to leave, I quickly said, “Lily, Daisy, I’m leaving now. I won’t be coming back.”

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The moment I became aware of my role as the “vicious female supporting character,” the male lead—my childhood friend whom I had imprisoned and tortured—was kneeling at my feet, his teeth gritted against the pain, his body trembling. As I fumbled to untie him, my own hands were shaking. He let out a cold, sharp laugh. “Weren’t you going to kill me, Miss Astor?” My hands froze. In the story, I imprison the male lead, Daniel Thorne, torturing him physically and emotionally, subjecting him to every kind of humiliation. In the end, he has me committed to a psychiatric hospital, where I jump to my death. I burst into tears. From my pocket, I pulled out a crumpled, worn-out piece of paper. I handed it to him. It was something Daniel had written for me when we were seven. “A voucher for complete and total forgiveness, no matter what Aria does.” 1 The moment I became aware of my role as the vicious female supporting character, I was holding a blood-stained whip, frozen to the spot. The… the vicious female supporting character? My hand trembled as I pointed to myself. Me? A low groan pulled me back to reality. In front of me, a dark, brooding young man was kneeling on the floor. His black hair was a mess, his sharp jawline lost in the damp shadows. His arms were suspended by iron chains, his hands hanging limply. His breathing was shallow, faint. Daniel. The male lead of this redemption story. And the boy I had grown up with. My childhood friend. In the story, I had a secret crush on Daniel for ten years. I was supposed to be the pure, beautiful, innocent girl who followed him around like a shadow. Until the female lead appeared. Then, my “villainy” meter shot through the roof. I didn’t just frame the female lead time and time again; I also kidnapped the male lead, imprisoned him, and subjected him to a litany of cruelties. Daniel became completely disillusioned with me, his disgust absolute. He personally had me committed to a psychiatric hospital. Not long after, I lost my mind and jumped from a window, ending my own life. And right now, Daniel, not yet the powerful tycoon he would become, was kneeling at my feet. The collar of his white shirt was torn open. The horrifying lash marks on his chest were a stark, bloody red. His pale face was slick with a cold sweat, his lips trembling. The moment our eyes met, I knew. My life was probably over. His eyes, like those of a cornered animal, were practically bursting with a raw, feral hatred, fixed on me. I wanted to cry. I, Aria Astor, had lived my life trying to be good, to be kind. I was a coward. I didn’t know how to be a villain. But it wasn’t too late to fix this. My hands shook as I reached for the iron shackles on Daniel’s wrists. My gaze fell on the raw, red marks there. A flash of memory seared through my mind. When I locked him up, I had traced every inch of his skin with a sick fascination, my sharp nails leaving red scratches on his pale face. “Daniel, I’m going to lock you up by my side forever,” I had said. “You can only look at me.” A shiver ran down my spine. The Astor and Thorne families were old friends, our houses practically next door to each other. Our parents had even joked about arranging a marriage for us when we were kids. Daniel was a year older than me. In my memories, I was always trailing behind him, my voice a sweet, soft “Daniel…” He was a cool, reserved person, but he always treated me like a real little sister, spoiling me rotten. But as I grew older, my feelings changed. I was no longer content with being his “sister.” And when the male and female leads started getting closer, I was consumed by jealousy. That’s when I kidnapped him and tried to force him to love me. Clink— The shackle opened, the iron chain falling to the floor, the sound echoing in the dark, empty basement. I forced a placating smile, though I was on the verge of tears. “Dan-Daniel.” “If I told you… I was possessed… would you believe me?” 2 A sharp, derisive laugh. The man’s lips curled. Those beautiful, almond-shaped eyes were cold, merciless. His voice was a hoarse, mocking drawl. “Weren’t you going to kill me, Miss Astor?” My body went rigid. Daniel… he really must hate me. He used to call me Aria. The man narrowed his eyes, a dangerous, angry glint in them. He moved closer, his shadow falling over me, creating an intense, suffocating pressure. “Aria Astor, what new game are you playing now?” Memories flooded in. Three days ago. I had gently tapped his cheek with the whip. I smiled and told him we were going to play a game. I unlocked his shackles. I tossed him a key. I told him that this basement was a maze, with seven secret rooms. But there was only one way out, only one door that led to the outside world. If he could find it, I would let him go. He searched every path of the maze, tried every single door, until he collapsed on the floor, utterly exhausted. Only then did I appear before him, my eyes red and wild. I had questioned him, my voice frantic. “You want to leave that badly? Isn’t it better to just stay with me forever?” “Are you going to see Hannah again?” “Why! Why do you only have eyes for her now?” “Daniel, you’re mine! You can only look at me!” “If you try to run again, I’ll kill you.” Hannah was the female lead of this story. After a falling out with his family in high school, Daniel had gone to a university in the city. In his junior year, he co-founded a company with the equally brilliant female lead. They were in and out of the lab together, competed in competitions together, built their company together. They were inseparable, their feelings for each other growing stronger every day. After overcoming a series of obstacles, they achieved their happy ending. And I… I was the biggest obstacle they were about to overcome. I didn’t just target the female lead at every turn, creating trouble for them both. I also kidnapped Daniel right before he was about to lead his team in a crucial competition. I closed my eyes, wanting to cry but having no tears left. Aria Astor, oh, Aria Astor, you really are something else. You dared to treat the male lead like a dog. How did you end up with such a bold and reckless life? It was a classic “overbearing CEO” trope. Offend the male lead, and you will not have a good end. Seeing me lost in thought, Daniel’s patience finally ran out. He grabbed my shoulders, the pain so sharp I thought I heard bone crack. “Aria Astor, speak.” “What the hell are you trying to do?” “When are you going to let me go?!” Daniel’s face was terrifyingly dark. He looked like he wanted to tear me to pieces, chew me up, and swallow me whole. I was on the verge of tears. After staring at him for two seconds with the resolve of a condemned woman, I took a deep breath. And buried my face in his chest. The wails came out, loud and unrestrained. “Daniel!” “I was wrong! I was so, so wrong!” “I was possessed by a demon!” Sincerity. Sincerity is always the ultimate weapon. If I grovel fast enough, the vicious female supporting character’s ending can’t catch up to me. I sniffled, my tear-filled eyes looking up at him pitifully. “Daniel, I’m only twenty. You have to allow me to make mistakes.” 3 The air seemed to freeze. The man’s body stiffened for a moment. Then, he must have been hit in his wounds. He let out a low gasp of pain. And then he shoved me away. “Aria Astor, you think a single ‘sorry’ can erase everything?” “Who the hell do you think you are?” His eyes were bloodshot. The way he looked at me, he wanted to skin me alive. It was over. It was all over. Daniel still wanted to kill me. Tears streamed down my face. I fumbled in the inner pocket of my dress and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. I carefully unfolded it and held it out to him. It was something Daniel had written for me when we were seven. So many years had passed that the paper had become soft and frayed. The pencil-written words were faded, but still legible. “Aria can do anything, and I’ll still forgive her” voucher. It was over something so small. He had spilled my milk. But I was spoiled, and I cried and cried. Daniel, who was always so mature, panicked for the first time. To soothe me, he wrote this note. Actually, in my previous life, I had used this too. Right before he sent me to the psychiatric hospital. But by then, I had done too many terrible things. It was too late. To be honest, I didn’t hate Daniel for that ending. After all, in the original story, my actions were truly unforgivable. But now, this was my last lifeline. Daniel stared at the crumpled piece of paper, stunned. He probably never thought I still had it. A childish promise, taken seriously in this moment. His cool lips were pressed into a thin, straight line. My tears were still falling. After a long moment, the ice in Daniel’s eyes finally began to thaw. He let go of my shoulders. He stood up and left without a word. Before he walked out the door, he gave me one last, deep look. “Aria Astor,” he said, “don’t ever do anything that disgusts me again.” Disgusts? Yes. This kind of twisted, obsessive emotion… it was disgusting. I collapsed to the floor, feeling like I’d just survived a near-death experience. Tears still clung to my eyelashes. But I quickly pulled out my phone— And let out a dolphin-like shriek. “Mom!” “Send me to study abroad! Now!” “Germany! I want to go to Germany!” Daniel belonged to the female lead. They were a perfect match. I would have to be insane to fight for him again. To get myself killed again. I believed that my three years of undergraduate studies in Germany would be the most unforgettable seven years of my life. And in seven years, the male and female leads would have already settled down. Naturally, I wouldn’t repeat my mistakes. I wouldn’t meet a tragic end. 4 Daniel’s return was a shot of adrenaline for his leaderless team. The competition was a high-profile event. Countless investors had their eyes on it. Rising stars were all vying for a chance to stand out and secure funding. On the first day of the semi-finals, a news notification popped up on my phone. I glanced at it. He was wearing a perfectly tailored suit, his figure tall and straight, his features sharp. His rimless glasses gave him an air of calm intelligence. He was a world away from the battered, broken man in the basement. On the screen, he looked through the chaotic crowd and met the female lead’s gaze. It was different from the hate-filled look he gave me. In front of her, his eyes were always confident and determined. As if to say, silently, I’ve got this. He was brilliant, invincible. I turned off the screen. In the novel, the basement imprisonment was just an appetizer. Later on, I would turn Daniel from a proud, noble young man into a dark, twisted psycho. I would break every bone of his pride. I would make him lose everything, so he could only look up at me from the gutter, clinging to me for survival. And in the end, my love would turn to hate, and I would try to run him and his family over with a car. I rubbed my throbbing temples. That wasn’t love. That was pure, unadulterated torture. No wonder Daniel hated me. I clutched the study abroad application that needed the dean’s signature, my legs pumping even faster. Daniel. Berlin is 5,300 miles from here, with a seven-hour time difference. That’s the farthest I can get from you. 5 These past few days, I had been running around nonstop, trying to get my study abroad paperwork in order. I was walking down the street, my eyes glued to my phone as I replied to a message from my department head. So I walked right into someone. I rubbed my forehead, about to apologize. A soft chuckle came from in front of me. “Well, if it isn’t Daniel’s little childhood sweetheart.” “What a coincidence, running into our ‘Daniel’ again, huh?” I looked up and met Daniel’s cold, wary gaze. He frowned. His hand, hanging at his side, clenched into a fist. He studied me for a long moment. Besides the resistance and disgust in his eyes, there seemed to be a flicker of something else, something complex and unreadable. His tone was stiff. “What are you doing here?” My heart sank. I opened my mouth, but the name “Daniel” wouldn’t come out. The person next to him hadn’t noticed the change in atmosphere. “What do you mean, coincidence? The way Aria clings to Daniel, she’s probably got a GPS tracker on him. Wherever we go, she follows.” Everyone else took it as a joke. But I felt like I was sitting on pins and needles. The phone in my hand suddenly felt like a hot potato. I nearly threw it away. Because it really did have a tracking system linked to Daniel. Ever since the female lead appeared in his life, they had become partners, walking side-by-side, sharing a world I could never enter. It was like a barrier that shut me out. My anxiety grew stronger and stronger. Driven by a twisted possessiveness, I had installed a tracking app on his phone. I turned every instance of surveillance into a “coincidence.” I stayed by his side, keeping him within my line of sight, a prisoner of my gaze. I even reveled in the teasing from those around me. I deliberately created false intimacy in front of the female lead. It wasn’t just Daniel who was suffocating. I was too. “But how come you didn’t come to watch our competition this time, Aria? Did you two have a fight? You guys can’t hold a grudge overnight, can you?” The group’s eyes, still clueless, continued to drift suggestively between me and Daniel. It was more than just a fight… It was practically attempted murder. I watched as Daniel’s face grew darker and darker. I silently cursed my luck. My eyes instinctively flickered to the female lead. Hannah was as her name suggested: cool and captivating. She heard the teasing, but her expression didn’t change. She even looked at me with a hint of amusement. As expected of the female lead. So calm and composed. She couldn’t be bothered to stoop to my level. But outside of the script, I, Aria Astor, was just a coward. Just as I was wringing my hands, trying to figure out how to escape, a loud, arrogant voice suddenly cut through the air. “Where’s Hannah?” 6 I turned toward the voice. And was nearly blinded by a 24-karat gold glare. The man’s wild, untamed eyes held a fierce glint. He was holding an iron pipe, the veins on his hand bulging. Coupled with his outrageous hair color, he looked like the perfect image of a cool, vicious bully. A pity. I shook my head. Going up against the male and female leads would only lead to a cannon fodder’s end. But this person… he looked a little familiar. Daniel subtly moved to stand in front of the female lead. His eyes were cold, his voice deep. “What do you want with her?” The bully raised a sharp eyebrow. He faced Daniel, not backing down an inch. “Someone asked me to give her a message.” He tapped the iron pipe on the ground for emphasis. He curled his lip, his tone threatening. “Miss Thorne, be careful when you’re walking alone. Watch out for…” Before he could finish, I sprang up like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. It was him! I stood on my tiptoes, wrapped my arm around the bully’s neck, and clamped my hand over his mouth. I laughed sheepishly. “Sorry, this is my friend. He’s got the wrong person!” “We’re just going to… catch up.” My laugh was hollow. I was about to make a run for it. But Daniel grabbed my wrist. His dark gaze rested for a moment on my arm, wrapped around the bully, then returned to my face. He didn’t look happy. “I didn’t know you had a friend like this.” What was wrong with Daniel? After what I did to him, shouldn’t he hate me? Why was he suddenly so concerned about who I was friends with? I blurted out a lie. “We just met. While you guys were at the competition.” “I haven’t been following you around lately, so you wouldn’t know.” “Daniel, you always used to tell me to make new friends.” “I made a new friend. Aren’t you happy?” I looked at him cautiously. Even Daniel, with his endless patience, could be annoyed. When he couldn’t stand my constant pestering, he would rub his temples, swallow his frustration, and gently persuade me. “Aria, besides me, don’t you think you should have some new friends?” I was leaving. In these last few moments with him, I wanted, more than anything, for him to be happy. Daniel wasn’t happy. He wasn’t angry either. He just pulled his hand from my wrist and let it fall to his side, clenching it into a fist. His dark eyes stared at me, deep and bottomless. Then, in silence, he watched me leave. 7 We were a good distance away before the bully finally broke free. He ruffled his messy hair. “Hey, what was that all about?” he demanded, his voice cold. I feigned composure. “Daniel was right there. I was just trying to keep you from blowing your cover.” That’s right. The bully threatening the female lead was named Cole. I had hired him. I paid, he did the work. He heard my explanation. His cold eyes narrowed, his voice laced with sarcasm. “Don’t worry, I have professional ethics. I took your money, so I won’t sell you out.” He leaned in. His sharp eyes narrowed, studying me with a look of disdain. “What? Are you scared, Miss Astor?” I knew he was provoking me. The frown on his face betrayed his anxiety. He needed the money. Cole’s parents had died young. He was raised by his grandmother in poverty. Now, his grandmother was sick, and the exorbitant medical bills had pushed him to the brink. In the original story, I exploited this. I turned him into my sharpest weapon. The enforcer for the vicious female supporting character. Naturally, he didn’t have a good end either. Cole died on a rainy night. He kidnapped the female lead. During a standoff with the police, he used her as a hostage. He was shot and killed while trying to take her down with him. “I” had bought his morals, his future, and even his life. But in the end, “I” still didn’t help him save his grandmother. A sharp pain shot through my chest. I felt like I had woken from a nightmare, my body weak. I was terrified of that “me.” I pulled a card from my bag. “This is a million dollars.” Cole’s expression changed, a flicker of mockery in his eyes. But his gaze quickly darkened, his voice a low, hoarse whisper, suppressing a twisted, struggling madness. “A million dollars. That’s enough to buy her life.” I frowned, holding up two fingers. “No. Two lives.” He frowned even more. “From now on, I want you to protect Hannah Thorne. Don’t let a single hair on her head be harmed.” As the female lead, Hannah had the standard tragic backstory—a gambling-addicted father, a mother who favored her son, a sick younger brother. A broken home. Consider it money well spent. A bodyguard for her. And a small compensation for all the times I had bullied her. I tucked the card into the pocket of his shirt. I stared at his face, my voice fierce. “As for you, from now on, you’re going to be a good person. Every day, you will silently recite the core values of a decent human being three times.” “Otherwise—” “I’ll tell your grandma that you burn your classmates’ butts with cigarettes at school!” “We’ll see how long your ‘good student’ act lasts then!” I watched as Cole’s arrogant, fierce face turned from red to white, then back again. It felt good. Being a good person felt so much better. I rubbed my chest, which still ached from the sharp pain. My eyes stung. How could I have done so many bad things? 8 The last rays of the setting sun. The afternoon in the city was still hot and humid. I was wearing a white sundress, walking through a remote barbecue street. The stalls had just been set up, with only a few tables occupied. Mostly shirtless men, boasting about politics, their conversations punctuated by crude jokes. I felt a pair of leering eyes following me. I frowned. I quickened my pace. After a few twists and turns into an alley, the sun had completely set. The alley was swallowed by the night. I heard the heavy thud of footsteps behind me, getting closer and closer. I unconsciously started to walk faster. Suddenly, a pair of rough hands landed on my shoulders. A greasy, slurred laugh sounded in my ear. “Hey, little lady, why don’t you have a drink with your big brother?” I turned my head. A drunken, scarred face filled my vision. “Sir, sexual harassment is a crime,” I said calmly. He laughed, the dark red flesh on his face wrinkling. “Don’t be so harsh.” “There are no cameras here.” I curled my lip. “No cameras? That’s great.” “Get him!” A cloth bag descended from above, covering the man’s head. After he was dragged to the ground, Cole’s fists rained down on him without mercy. This was Hannah’s biological father. He not only abused his wife and daughter from a young age, but he was also a gambling addict. He often lurked in this remote alley, preying on students. Pure social garbage. Recently, he had racked up a lot of gambling debt. Soon, he would be coming after the up-and-coming female lead. Forcing her to sell her body to pay off his debts. The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. I took advantage of the chaos and gave him a swift kick. “Scumbag.” When the man on the ground was completely still, I clapped my hands. “Let’s go,” I said to Cole. Cole glanced at the man on the ground, his eyes cold and empty. He raised his sneaker and ground it into the man’s right hand. This would probably just put him in bed for half a month. But if someone found him and called the police, and they found the drugs on him, then Mr. Thorne’s good days would be over.

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My mother-in-law, Helen, was clearing new ground when her foot came down on a landmine, a ghost left over from the war. The town foreman told me to run and get my husband, a veteran EOD specialist, to defuse it. I just shook my head, refusing. In my last life, I ran six miles into town to save her. I dragged my husband, Liam, out of a diner where he was on a date with his “one true love.” I begged him to come help. Helen was saved, but his lover was cornered in an alley by her ex-husband and beaten to death. To the world, Liam praised me for my quick thinking. But on the anniversary of her death, he used that same disarmed landmine to blow me to pieces. “Why wasn’t it you who died?” he’d screamed. “Go to hell and apologize to Miranda!” Reborn into this life, Liam is finally enjoying his fancy meal at the town’s best diner with Miranda. But when he learns what happened back home, he will be shattered by regret. … “Jessie, don’t you dare come any closer! Get away from me!” That familiar voice pierced through the fog, and my eyes flew open. My mother-in-law, Helen, stood before me, tears streaming down her face, yet she was still desperately trying to wave me away. “I’m an old woman, my hands and feet don’t listen to me anymore. If this thing really goes off, I can’t drag you down with me.” Foreman Pete heard her and immediately pulled me back. “Jessie! Isn’t your husband a bomb disposal vet? Where is he? Go get him, now!” The urgent pleas swirled around me. I dug my fingernails into my palms, the sharp sting a desperate anchor against the tears threatening to fall. “He’s in town with Miranda,” I choked out. “Even if I go… I don’t think he’ll come back.” The young volunteers who had rushed over with the foreman all exchanged awkward glances. The affair between my husband, Liam, and Miranda was the worst-kept secret in town. Today was our wedding anniversary. He had taken every last cent and all our ration coupons, announcing he was buying Miranda expensive face cream and treating her to a steak dinner at the best diner in the county. The air grew thick and still. One of the young men, seeing the anguish on my face, sighed. “Jessie, we’re fast on our feet. We’ll go get Liam back here!” “You just look after Helen. Everything’s going to be alright!” Without waiting for the foreman’s order, a few of them took off down the road in a cloud of dust. I lowered my gaze, the raw reality of my rebirth finally sinking in. Helen, of course, knew all about her son’s shameful behavior. She looked at me, her face etched with sorrow. “Jessie, what Liam’s done… it’s my fault. I didn’t raise him right. I’ve failed you.” “When he gets back, I’ll make him break it off with that little harlot for good!” A fresh wave of grief washed over me, and a sob escaped my lips. Even after Miranda had abandoned him twice before, Liam was still willing to make me pay for her death with my own life, for a crime I didn’t commit. A man like that? Break things off with Miranda? Impossible. As we tried to comfort each other, the group of volunteers returned, drenched in sweat. Every eye turned to the road behind them. But it was empty. Liam wasn’t with them. They were still catching their breath, their faces flushed with fury. “That Liam is certifiably insane! He was in the general store with that phony, Miranda, buying her face cream and a brand-new shirt!” “We talked until we were blue in the face, but the bastard wouldn’t believe us!” “And you know what he said? He said you sent us! Said you were cheap and made up a story about a landmine just to trick him into coming home so you could save a little money for yourself!” “What kind of son is he? That’s his own mother standing on a goddamn bomb! Even if he had doubts, shouldn’t he have come back to check?!” “And that Miranda! What a venomous snake! With just a few words, she twisted it around so it sounded like we were your secret lovers! God, it makes me sick! How can such a vile person exist!” After their unfiltered tirade, they remembered Liam’s mother was right there. Two muddy streams of tears flowed down Helen’s cheeks. Her lips trembled for a long time before she could force out the words. “That ungrateful whelp… did he really say that?” “Jessie, I’ve wronged you in this life. I’ve ruined you. I’m a failure… let me pay you back with my life!” The shock was too much for her; she was on the verge of a complete breakdown. Under the silent, pitying gazes of the crowd, I gritted my teeth and dropped to my knees in front of her. “Helen, this isn’t your fault! It’s Liam! He’s lost his mind! I have never, ever blamed you!” “If you hadn’t given me a scrap of food to eat when I was a child, I would have starved to death long ago! I don’t want you to pay me back with your life! I want you to live!” My parents died in a flood when I was very young. I was an orphan with nothing and no one. It was Helen who took me in, who gave me a roof over my head and food in my belly, who allowed me to grow up safely. Years ago, Liam and Miranda had been childhood sweethearts. But Miranda thought Liam, a simple army grunt, had no future. She left him a note and ran off with a wealthy man from the city. The blow devastated Liam. He turned his attention to me. Helen, who already doted on me for my hardworking nature, urged me to accept. I married him out of a sense of gratitude, but no sooner had we tied the knot than Miranda came back. Liam immediately demanded a divorce. Helen refused, dead set against it. The whole town was abuzz with the scandal. Miranda fanned the flames, and Liam became convinced that I was using his mother to sabotage their love. From that day on, he hated me. To punish me, he started taking Miranda into town every day, squandering our money on lavish meals and extravagant gifts. A storm of emotions churned inside me, but I forced it down to comfort Helen. When she finally calmed, I reached out and took her rough, calloused hand. “Helen, you’re not well. You can’t stand here for much longer.” “Let me take your place. Please?” The moment the words left my mouth, the crowd erupted. “Jessie, think about what you’re doing! That’s a live bomb from the war! If it goes off, you’ll be dead or crippled! Your whole life will be ruined!” “You’re so young, you can even read and write! Don’t throw your future away like this!” Helen’s tears were unstoppable now. “Jessie, yes, I raised you! But that was only because your parents saved me from that flood first!” “I’m an old woman with one foot in the grave! If I die, I die! Don’t you make this worse!” I clung to her hand, refusing to let go. “No matter what, I can’t watch you die. If you won’t switch with me, then I’m not leaving either. We’ll just get blown up together!” Under my tearful threats, Helen finally relented. Seeing he couldn’t change my mind, Foreman Pete moved the crowd back for safety. Back when things were good between us, Liam had told me how to swap places with a teammate who couldn’t hold their position on a mine. I coached Helen through the steps as I carefully slid my foot over to take the pressure. To say I wasn’t scared would be a lie. My legs felt like they were about to give out. But my heart was already shattered. The only person in this world who was ever truly good to me was Helen. I couldn’t let her die. After a silence so profound it made my teeth ache, we successfully switched places. She wiped her tears, looking at me, and then stomped her foot with renewed determination. “Jessie, you wait here. I’m going to personally drag that monster back!” Seeing that I had actually managed the swap, the crowd’s eyes filled with awe. The same young volunteers, having just caught their breath, offered to go again. “Ma’am, we’ll take you! You need to give Liam a piece of your mind! What he’s doing is just too much!” They helped Helen to her feet and quickly disappeared down the road. I waited with the foreman in silence for what felt like an eternity. When they finally returned, it was the same as before. Behind the small group, there was still no sign of Liam. The moment Helen saw me, her legs gave out and she collapsed onto the ground. “Jessie… I’m so sorry… that boy… he has no humanity!” She was sobbing too hard to speak, so the volunteers angrily filled in the gaps. “Liam’s a complete lunatic! He won’t even believe his own mother!” Through their overlapping, furious complaints, I pieced together what had happened in town. After buying the face cream and the new shirt, Liam and Miranda had gone to the diner. When my mother-in-law and the others arrived, the two of them were cooing at each other, lovingly placing food on each other’s plates. At the sight of his mother, Liam slammed his fork down. “Mom, can you please stop playing along with Jessie’s crazy games? She already sent people to tell me you stepped on a landmine. If you were on a landmine, how could you possibly be standing here in town?” “I just want to have one nice meal with Miranda! Can’t you people just leave me alone?!” Enraged, Helen flipped the table over and tried to drag Liam back with her. Seeing the raw fury in his mother’s expression, Liam finally seemed to believe her, at least a little. But just as he was about to leave, Miranda grabbed his other hand. “I know Jessie doesn’t like me, that she can’t stand it when you spend time with me,” she whispered sweetly. “But Auntie, you can’t joke about something like this.” “The old battlefields have been cleared so many times. How could there possibly be a real bomb?” After that, no matter how much Helen swore on her life, no matter how she beat her chest and pointed to the heavens, Liam refused to believe. When Helen, in her fury, tried to lunge at Miranda, Liam shielded her and walked away without a single backward glance. Hearing this, the foreman’s face turned ashen. And the last thread of hope I’d been clinging to finally, completely, snapped. Our town was in the middle of nowhere. Liam was the only one who knew how to defuse a bomb. If he wouldn’t come, I was going to die. I stood there from dawn until dusk. Helen cried until she fainted several times and had to be carried home by the volunteers. When the moon reached the highest point in the night sky, I couldn’t feel my legs anymore. My body was numb and heavy. I knew I couldn’t hold on any longer. Under the tear-filled gaze of the few who remained, I parted my lips, my voice a dry rasp. “Could you bring me a piece of paper? I… I want to write a will.” The foreman sniffled and sent one of the volunteers, who ran off with tears streaming down his face. Just then, a line of torches appeared in the distance. “Is this where the landmine was found? We’re a military unit on maneuvers! We brought our EOD expert!” The small crowd rushed to meet them. A wave of relief, so powerful it almost buckled my knees, washed over me. I had been saved from the brink of death. Worried for my safety, the volunteers ignored the danger and rushed back to support me on either side. “Jessie, you have to hold on! So what if that idiot Liam won’t come? There are plenty of good people who will save you!” “You’re a good person, Jessie! The heavens wouldn’t let you die like this!” They had been with me all day, wracked with fear. Now that help had arrived, their faces were lit with joy. But as the soldiers drew closer, every smile froze. “Liam?!” Liam was just as shocked to see me. “Jessie, are you out of your mind?!” he roared. “To get me to come back, you made this huge scene? You actually got my commanding officers involved in your little drama!” Beside him, Miranda, dressed in her new clothes, smirked triumphantly. “Jessie, there’s really nothing going on between Liam and me. Did you make all this up just to get him in trouble with his superiors?” “You can’t keep being so selfish. You have to think about your husband’s career.” Liam’s face contorted with rage at Miranda’s words. He lunged forward and grabbed my arm. I had been standing for a full day and night. My body was utterly exhausted. Liam’s sudden pull sent me lurching forward, out of control.

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

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

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

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