Category: English

My mother is a pop icon, practically a legend who once dominated the American music charts for years. My older sister followed in her footsteps, clawing her way through the industry, winning awards for Mom, making her proud. She’s Mom’s everything. And then there’s me. The quiet one, the little mute, the stain on Mom’s otherwise perfect life story she could never erase. To keep the world from finding out I existed, Mom locked me in the storage closet every day. She even told me, more times than I can count: “Why don’t you just disappear.” Eventually, I did. I died. And after that, my sister couldn’t hit a single pure note anymore. And my mother, my arrogant, self-assured mother, she lost her mind. 1 The day I got locked in the little dark closet for the last time was the night of the Awards show – the finals where my sister, Victoria, was up for Artist of the Year. I curled up in the corner of the storage space, catching my reflection in a dusty old mirror. A skinny, frail girl with a sickly pale face stared back. Mom, Seraphina Reign, was a household name. After she retired from performing, she poured everything into grooming Victoria. And me? In her eyes, I was just the kid who stammered as a child and grew up… silent. A little mute. Locking me in the dark closet with just enough scraps to keep me alive was the best arrangement she could think of for me. Officially, she only had one daughter: Victoria Reign. Nobody knew Seraphina Reign had another daughter, a mute one named Lily. Mom couldn’t stand the thought of the media finding out about me. It was humiliating for her. Suddenly, Mom flung open the closet door. She rummaged through shelves, picking out props for Victoria’s performance tonight, not even glancing my way. I shrank further into the corner, terrified of making any sound that might annoy her. My throat felt tight, like something was stuck there. I swallowed hard, trying desperately not to cough. “What’s wrong with your throat? Hacking like some stray dog?” Mom’s sharp voice cut through the air, twisting my insides. “Must’ve done something terrible in a past life to end up with a mute kid like you. Thank God your sister takes after me, got more talent than I did at her age. Tonight, she’s finally going to win it – the award I always dreamed of!” “Since you can’t sing, you just stay put in here. Don’t you dare let the press get a whiff of your existence!” She shot me a look filled with disgust, her words spat out through clenched teeth. I nodded quickly, clamping my hand over my mouth as a violent cough finally broke through. Seeing me cough uncontrollably, Mom muttered something about me being bad luck and slammed the door shut, the lock clicking into place. I hid my hand behind my back, the palm now smeared with blood. My heart felt heavy, like a stone. 2 Mom told me not to leave the storage closet, but I still ended up backstage at Victoria’s final performance. Hidden away, of course. Inside a small equipment locker this time. While Victoria was getting her makeup touched up, a hand – elegant, with long fingers like polished jade – appeared at the locker’s vent. She quickly shoved a bottle of water towards me. “For your throat,” she whispered. I flinched, pressing myself deeper into the dark corner. Those beautiful hands… they’d held so many trophies, countless awards, delivered what the world thought were heavenly vocals. Those same beautiful hands had also gripped my arm countless times, bruisingly tight, while Victoria cried, begging me to lip-sync for her, to help her steal the title of the next big pop sensation. Victoria promised that if I helped her win Artist of the Year, she’d find a way to get me out of the closet, maybe even convince Mom to love me, just like she loved her. The thought of living in the sunlight, the fantasy of Mom holding me close with affection… I agreed without a second thought. All those secret nights spent practicing, straining my voice, were all for this moment – helping Victoria win the award Mom herself had craved. If Victoria won, wouldn’t Mom be overjoyed? Maybe then… maybe she’d finally look at me? Right now, Mom was sitting on the judges’ panel, beaming with pride at Victoria under the spotlight. And I was huddled in a dark locker, quietly sipping water to soothe my raw throat. Only Victoria knew I wasn’t really mute. And definitely not tone-deaf. I’d inherited all of Mom’s musical genius, born with a voice that was a gift. But tonight… I’d changed my mind. I wasn’t going to give a perfect performance. Suddenly, I didn’t want Mom to see her precious Victoria crowned. I didn’t want the headlines screaming about the mother-daughter duo conquering the music world. I was dying anyway. Let me have this… Let me be selfish, just this once. 3 Victoria was scheduled to perform last, the grand finale. That was Mom’s arrangement. “Save the best for last,” she’d declared. “I lost out years ago because I went on first. Someone else got lucky with the votes.” Mom was always like that – supremely confident, almost arrogant. Her talent was undeniable, so she bulldozed through the industry, never caring who she offended. Countless young artists had been crushed by her sharp tongue over the years. Even seasoned veterans weren’t safe from her criticism. But that same confidence meant she never really listened to Victoria sing on her own. She had no idea that my sister, when actually singing, sounded like a rusty hinge. Oblivious, Mom had even crafted a ridiculous tagline for her: “Talks like a crow, sings like an angel.” Twenty minutes before showtime, Mom swept into the dressing room, practically vibrating with nervous excitement. Even through the locker vent, I could feel her thrill. “Vicky, honey, don’t be nervous. You’ve got this! It’s in your blood, pure talent!” “A gift from God!” Then her tone shifted. “Not like Lily… Sometimes I wish I’d never bothered having her. Can’t get rid of her, but can’t stand looking at her!” My heart clenched violently. My throat felt like it was blocked with cement. “It would be so much better if she just… disappeared.” My mind went blank. I couldn’t believe my own mother would wish that. A bitter smile touched my lips. I fought back the urge to cough. Soon, Mom. Your wish is coming true. I’ll be gone soon. My whole existence was a mistake, wasn’t it? I won’t be your burden much longer. Mom, after I’m dead, maybe then… maybe you could smile at me the way you smile at Victoria? Even if it’s just at my picture, my grave, my ashes… Maybe the only right thing your daughter ever did was die. Three days ago, after helping Victoria lip-sync through the semi-finals, I actually got half a day off while we waited for the results. Clutching the fifty dollars Victoria had tossed me like charity, I wandered aimlessly, unsure where to go. Lately, the nosebleeds were constant, and my throat felt scratchy and tight, like tiny insects were crawling inside. I took that fifty dollars and walked into a free clinic. The doctor looked at me sympathetically. “Where are your parents? Maybe they should come in so we can talk.” I looked down, mumbled, “Mom’s with my sister.” The doctor paused, then sighed, her expression full of pity. “Okay, honey. If you don’t want your guardian here, I’ll be straight with you.” “All this intense singing, the constant strain… you’ve let this go for too long. Your voice… I’m afraid it’s probably too late to save it. But if you start aggressive treatment now, maybe there’s still a small chance—” I already knew, didn’t I? It didn’t matter if I had a fever, or felt sick. If Victoria had a performance, I had to be there, hidden away, singing my heart out for her. If it wasn’t for sheer natural talent, my voice would have given out long ago. I cut the doctor off, managing a weak smile. “Ma’am, could you just prescribe me some strong painkillers? It really hurts… I can’t stand the pain anymore.” With a look of deep sorrow, she gently nodded. On my rare half-day of freedom, I spent my entire fifty dollars confirming I had late-stage throat cancer. I really was going to become mute. And I really was going to die. 4 Victoria walked onto the stage, wearing the custom designer gown Mom had commissioned for her. Elegant and proud, she glided to the center stage spotlight. Mom’s grin stretched practically ear to ear. She leaned over, whispering excitedly to the judge next to her, listing off Victoria’s previous awards. I knew most of the judges found Mom annoying, but privately, they all acknowledged Victoria’s talent. No, my talent. The powerful, moody intro of the song filled my earpiece. Mom had chosen ‘Cage’ for Victoria’s final performance. She’d told Victoria: “Even though you’ve had an easy life, your singing always has this undercurrent of pain, this complexity.” “Singing this in the finals? It’ll blow everyone away!” Mom wasn’t wrong in her analysis; she was a musical genius, after all. But how could she, who had fought her way to the top, never wonder? How could she not suspect that a song sung with such raw, lived-in pain couldn’t come from someone who hadn’t experienced it? Mom, didn’t you ever doubt? Victoria gave the subtle cue in my earpiece. I cleared my throat. “In the deep dark sea, a flicker of light, a dim temptation…” A hush fell over the audience. Everyone held their breath, eyes fixed on Victoria, lost in the haunting, beautiful melody. From the judges’ table, I saw Mom press a hand to her mouth, tears welling in her eyes, brimming with pride and adoration. Countless performances had perfected our synchronization. Victoria and I moved as one voice, hitting every pause, every breath perfectly. The song built towards its crescendo. The audience leaned forward, hearts suspended, waiting for the soaring climax, the moment the music would break free from the song’s oppressive weight. Curled in the cramped locker, the lack of air and the awkward position made it hard to breathe. My mind flooded with images: years locked in the musty closet, Mom’s looks of disgust, her cruel words, my own fragile heart starved of any affection. The final notes faded into silence. The venue was utterly still for a beat, then erupted in thunderous applause. Judges leaped to their feet, clapping and shouting praise. Only Seraphina Reign, my mother, remained frozen in her chair, silent. I knew that look. She wasn’t stunned speechless by joy. She knew. She knew the truth. 5 A single, mistimed breath. That tiny slip-up during the lip-sync. It might fool the general public, maybe even the other judges. But it wouldn’t fool her. Not my mother, the legendary Seraphina Reign. I bet even Victoria didn’t realize that the almost imperceptible pause in the final phrase, less than half a second long, would be the crack that let Mom see the truth. Victoria stood basking in the ovation, accepting the award, drunk on the roar of the crowd and the judges’ effusive compliments. She was completely oblivious to Mom sitting rigid in her chair, her face darkening, eyes fixed on her like a hawk. Everyone’s focus was on the stage. Victoria Reign had just won the coveted Artist of the Year award, the only one given out in the last three years, instantly becoming the dazzling new star of her generation. She had arguably surpassed her mother’s legacy, achieving the one prize Seraphina had always wanted but never attained. Instantly, entertainment news outlets exploded. Headlines flew everywhere. The buzz even overshadowed the time Mom herself had fiercely defended American pop music against a wave of international artists years ago. Seraphina, never one to hide her feelings, looked like thunder. The air around her crackled with tension. She presented the award to Victoria with a face like stone, managing a clipped, icy comment: “Well done, Victoria. I suppose you’ll be giving me singing lessons now.” Victoria just smiled shyly, still unaware, and shot a proud little wink towards Mom at the judges’ table. She had no idea the storm that was about to break. And Mom had no idea that the voice she revered, the voice that had bested even her own legacy, belonged to the daughter she despised most. I swallowed a painkiller. A hollow laugh escaped me. I’d won this round, maybe. But my heart felt utterly empty. 6 Night fell. I sat in the back seat of Mom’s car. Tilting my head, I caught my reflection in the rearview mirror – sallow skin, my nose raw and swollen from wiping away blood. The tension in the car was thick enough to cut. Victoria was rambling, trying to make excuses, to deny everything. Mom gripped the steering wheel, face an emotionless mask, her thoughts hidden. Suddenly, she slammed on the brakes. Before I could react, she threw open my back door, grabbed a handful of my hair, and yanked me brutally downwards. Sharp pain shot through my scalp. The metallic taste of blood filled my throat again. Mom started hitting my head, screaming, cursing relentlessly: “You little bitch! You can sing? What the hell was all that mute crap? Were you playing me? Making a fool of your own mother?” “Was helping your sister lip-sync some kind of sick joke? Huh? Does it make you feel important?” I opened my mouth, forcing down the blood, trying to speak past the agony in my throat. “I didn’t… I wasn’t pretending… You said I had no talent… You never… never treated me like a daughter.” My voice dwindled to a whisper. I broke free from her grip, collapsing onto the pavement, trying to scream out years of silent pain, pleading my case, venting my rage… But no sound came out. And no one was listening anyway. No one ever wanted to listen. More blood welled up in my mouth. I finally said it, I thought. I finally spoke up. But just like Victoria had warned me in secret, what difference did it make? Mom, see? Even now, you won’t change how you see me. You’re capable of love, just… not for me. Suddenly, my brain felt like it short-circuited, plunging me into a blinding white fog I couldn’t escape. All the pain and tightness in my throat vanished. My body felt incredibly light, almost like floating. The last thing I heard, echoing endlessly in my mind, was Mom’s voice: “Why couldn’t you have just died sooner!?” Why not die sooner? Truth is, I did. My heart died… It died that winter, abandoned on a dark highway.

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“Josie! Mr. Cross is drunk again. Do you think you could come pick him up?” Three in the morning. Another call from Ethan Cross’s driver. “Aaaaargh! He can just drop dead!” I couldn’t take it anymore. This was already the fifth time this month! “Honey, kisses~ Come get me and take me home.” The words had barely left my mouth when I heard that infuriating voice belonging to Ethan on the other end. Ethan and I grew up together, practically childhood rivals. We were even born on the same day. But we never got along. Put us in the same room for more than ten minutes, and a fight was guaranteed. And yet, despite all that… The day we graduated college. Both sets of our parents were supposedly in a terrible car accident, clinging to life. Their last wish? To see us married. What could we do? For their supposed dying wish, sniffling and crying, Ethan and I went down to City Hall and got the license. Only after we got back did we find out. What car accident? What critical condition? It was all fake! Just like that. We were inexplicably living the married life. It’s been three months now. But we’ve always slept in separate rooms. No other reason than this: I knew perfectly well. Ethan had a girl he loved but couldn’t have. The girl he murmured “Sweetheart” to in his sleep. I have zero interest in being the other woman. So, I always kept things within safe boundaries. But it wasn’t until this month that I discovered something. Ethan had a weird habit I’d never noticed! As soon as he gets drunk. He’s like a completely different person. Normally, he’s got this permanent scowl, all arrogant and untamable. After drinking, he turns into this clingy baby who just whines “Honey” at his wife! Everyone thinks he spoils me rotten. In reality… We’re lucky if we don’t end up punching each other. 2 I drove my sports car to the private room the driver mentioned. Pushing the door open. A thick wave of alcohol mixed with cigarette smoke hit me, and I instinctively wrinkled my nose. I scanned the room. I knew most of the people inside. His college buddies. Before I could even say anything. Ethan, all six-foot-something of him, practically tackled me in a bear hug. He buried his head in my neck, nuzzling against me. The faint scent of booze mixed with a pine fragrance wasn’t actually unpleasant on him. “Honey, you’re finally here.” His warm breath tickled my ear as he spoke. My knees went weak, and I almost stumbled. But to outsiders, this scene? It just cemented the illusion of our loving marriage. A sudden chill ran down my spine. Even though this had happened many times before. I still couldn’t get used to Ethan’s sudden intimacy. I reached out and pinched his side, hard. “Ah…” My back stiffened. I glanced nervously over my shoulder at the man leaning on me. That sound… Did that just come from Ethan? “Alright, alright, break it up! Take your flirting home, you two!” Someone shouted from the crowd. My face flushed crimson from my neck to my earlobes. I immediately dragged this total spectacle, Ethan, out to the car. The driver put up the partition. Ethan, apparently clueless about self-preservation, leaned in again. His handsome eyes seemed clouded with a mist, looking wet and vulnerable. “Honey, you’re so beautiful.” “…” “Honey, why aren’t you talking?” “…” “Honey, you…” “Ethan, say one more word and I’m throwing you out of this car!” 3 The next morning, my alarm woke me. I rolled over. Only to feel a wave of warmth coming from beside me. I opened my eyes. Ethan was lying next to me, completely naked! Probably because of the alarm, his handsome brow was furrowed into a line. I subconsciously slowed my breathing. I had to admit. It was a total waste that Ethan didn’t become a movie star with that face. “Like what you see, Josie?” Caught red-handed. My heart skipped a beat. “Ethan, either get out of my bed yourself, or I’m kicking you out.” Ethan seemed used to this. He propped his head up with one hand, a faint smile playing on his lips. “Josie, don’t be so heartless…” Before he could finish. I’d already kicked him squarely in the stomach. I’ve been taking kickboxing since I was a kid. That kick was definitely enough to make him feel it. I slowly got up. “Ethan, next time you get drunk and I have to clean up your mess, we’re meeting at the courthouse.” Last night. I’d scrolled past Ava Miller’s social media feed. She had ‘accidentally’ liked a post from a gossip blog detailing evidence of her and Ethan’s supposed romance. Ava is the hot new actress signed under Ethan’s company. Rumors about their special relationship have been flying around externally. I always knew Ethan kept a strict distance when it came to relationships with women. This was the only time. He let a woman use his name for publicity. So, I often wondered. The “Sweetheart” Ethan muttered about… it must be her, right? If that’s the case, then I’m definitely getting out of here. I saw Ethan quickly stand up. His eyes were sharp and clear. He sneered, “In your dreams, Josie.” “…” 4 The Cross and Keller families have been friends for generations, going back to our great-grandfathers. Both families started in real estate. But in recent decades, the Cross family branched out into the entertainment industry. S.T., the entertainment company under the Cross umbrella, has launched countless stars. You could say just stepping into S.T. already made you halfway famous. But me? I deliberately went against him. I majored in Broadcasting and Hosting. Logically, after graduation, I should have smoothly transitioned into S.T. But right at that moment. Ethan, with his big mouth, had to say: “The thought of you working under me someday makes me feel good.” I instantly turned around and found his biggest rival, Apex Media. Apex’s boss, Daniel Chen, was a senior when I was in college. We met during a club activity. We hit it off later and became pretty good friends, able to talk about anything. Plus, Apex launched that “campus heartthrob” actor, Jake Ryan, last year. So, they’re also a hot commodity in the industry. The moment I got to the office. Daniel was there, looking like he’d been specifically waiting for me in my office. “Ethan had another meltdown yesterday?” I paused. “How did you even know?” “Are there any secrets in this industry that last till the next day?” I just smiled without saying anything. Daniel suddenly put his arm around my shoulder. “Look, you don’t like Ethan anyway. Why not just divorce him already and be with me?” I pushed him away. “No way. If I get divorced, half my assets get split. Anyone touches my money, I fight them.” I meant it as a joke. But Daniel seemed to take it seriously. He leaned closer to my ear, pointing at a trending topic on his phone. “Find proof he’s cheating, and you can kick him out with nothing.” Before I could respond. The door opened. It was my assistant, Sarah. “Josie… they’re rushing us over there. Maybe we should head out?” I sighed. Because the person I was interviewing this time… Was none other than Ava Miller! 5 The interview was a live stream. By the time I got there after hair and makeup, Ava was already surrounded by a crowd. We were actually college classmates, but we never got along. But she was also one of the few people who knew Ethan and I were married. “Miss Miller, regarding the trending topic about your accidental ‘like,’ is there anything you’d like to clarify for everyone?” The director across from me was frantically signaling me. Because the script clearly said: [What is your relationship with Ethan Cross?] Asking me, the actual wife, about his rumored girlfriend’s relationship status? Dream on! Whatever else Ethan was, he was technically my husband. Even if he was cheating on me, there was no way I was going to put the metaphorical green hat on my own head. I watched as Ava very seductively brushed a stray strand of hair from her face. Then, she covered her lips coyly. “Eth… oh, no. Mr. Cross and I just have a boss-employee relationship. Perfectly professional, so of course, there’s nothing to clarify!” Damn it, my fists were clenching! “You’re right, Mr. Cross does have good taste. Naturally, he wouldn’t…” Before I finished. I copied her gesture, covering my own lips. Four years of college had taught me all about Ava’s fake-sweet routine. I specifically asked the makeup team for a natural, “no-makeup” makeup look. Right now, I was probably radiating even more faux sweetness than Ava. I could feel the collective gasp in the air. I immediately moved to the next question. “After hitting it big with ‘Crown of Shadows,’ how has your mindset changed?” “Oh, not much has really changed. People who like me know, I’ve always taken fame and criticism in stride.” “…” If this wasn’t live. I might have actually rolled my eyes at Ava. I vividly remembered junior year when she lost a role. She smashed six cups in our dorm room. Ava wanted to keep talking, but I cut her off directly. “Okay, let’s move to the next segment. Please call the first contact in your recent calls list and tell them ‘I miss you.’” I took her phone from Ava’s assistant. I never expected it. The first name on the list was Ethan! Looking at the call time, it was just three hours ago! I did a quick calculation. Wasn’t that right after I left the house this morning?! I let out a cold laugh. Didn’t expect Ethan to be such a time management expert. One second he’s getting out of his wife’s bed. The next, he’s calling his idealized love interest? Distracted, I accidentally dialed the number. The studio instantly fell silent. “What’s up?” Ethan’s distinctively cool voice came through the speaker. Yeah, right. Keep pretending. If I didn’t know what a mess Ethan was when drunk. I might have actually been fooled. “Ethan, what are you doing?” Ava cooed. “Looking over contracts.” “Are you free for lunch? I wanted to treat you.” I scoffed internally. But my body traitorously leaned closer. Wanting to hear Ethan’s reply. “I…” “Watch out!” Ava and I simultaneously looked towards the source of the shout. A hanging light fixture directly above was suddenly swaying precariously. The next second, Ava grabbed my arm. She reacted almost instantly, pulling me out of the danger zone. We both fell heavily to the ground. I never imagined the person saving me would be Ava! “Josie, are you okay?!” I saw Daniel sprinting towards me. I wanted to say something. But everything in front of me started to blur. Then, I just blacked out.

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Just before my wedding, the scholarship student my dad was sponsoring caught the eye of a notorious playboy from a wealthy family. My fiancé, unable to bear the thought of his darling falling into a living hell, intervened. That very night, they swore their eternal love in a hotel room. The whole town was waiting for me and the Hayes family to become a laughingstock. But there I was, pinned against the wall by the Hayes’ youngest, his fingers tilting my chin up. “An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. Ethan stole my wife-to-be. It’s only fair I take yours, right?” I nodded. “Sounds fair.” … First thing that morning, I was hit with the headline: “Young Master Young of Young Enterprises Spends the Night with Aspiring Actress at the Four Seasons Hotel…” It was enough to make me sick. So, when Caleb made his proposal, my mouth reacted faster than my brain. “I do.” He clearly wasn’t expecting me to agree to something so outrageous. Caleb stood there gaping for a good minute, before stammering, “You…you, you said that.” “Three days from now, I’ll come and marry you. No take-backs.” He said it like he was afraid I’d change my mind. The six-foot-tall guy turned and ran, almost tripping over a tree root in his haste. I chuckled at the sight, realizing he wasn’t as bad as the internet made him out to be. Not long after Caleb left, Ethan showed up. My face instantly fell. “Mr. Golden Boy was having a great time last night. Shouldn’t you be with your darling, instead of bothering me?” Ethan couldn’t stand being given the cold shoulder. His face darkened as he tossed a bag at me. “Riley, I came to tell you that what happened with Sarah won’t affect our wedding. I’ll be there in three days to take you to the altar.” “I got this for you from Cloud Bakery. Your favorite strawberry shortcake.” The squashed cake inside the bag stung my eyes. After ten years, he still couldn’t remember my favorite treat. I looked up at him, a bitter smile on my face. “Ethan, I’m genuinely curious. Our wedding is still on? Does your precious Sarah approve?” He ignored the question in my eyes and continued. “Don’t worry. Sarah’s okay with it. I bought her a house out in the suburbs. She’ll live there and won’t bother us.” His shamelessness left me speechless. Ten years of friendship had only earned me a massive joke. It was time to end this. “Go home, Ethan. I’ll tell my parents tomorrow that the wedding is off.” Ethan frowned, grabbing my hand. “Riley, stop it. I told you, Sarah won’t affect our engagement.” He was treating me like a fool. I pulled my hand away, stepping back and glaring at him. “Ethan, who gave you the audacity to want to have it all?” “I, Riley Thompson, will only marry someone who has eyes only for me. You don’t deserve me.” Seeing my rejection, Ethan got angry. “Riley, I gave you an explanation about Sarah. What more do you want?” He dared to ask me what I wanted? I almost laughed hysterically. He was the one who went to steal another man’s bride before their wedding, the one who spent the night with her. He was the one who made me and the Hayes family the laughingstock of the internet. And he had the nerve to ask me what I wanted! I looked at him with disdain and repeated, “I, Riley Thompson, will never marry you. Get over it.” My repeated rejection angered Ethan. “Riley, everyone in our circle knows that you’ve been chasing after me since you were a little girl, always saying you wanted to marry me. Well, let me tell you, everyone thinks you’re used goods. I doubt anyone will dare marry you if I don’t.” With that, he sped off. I was shaking with rage, a deep sadness washing over me. I knew that the Ethan I had known and who had protected me since childhood was gone. The only one he cared about now was Sarah. The moment he trampled on my heart for Sarah, we should have ended things. But I was bitter. Over a decade of friendship couldn’t compare to their brief year together. Turns out I was wrong. 2 Caleb didn’t give me time to regret it. The next day, he arrived at my door with dozens of wedding dresses and half the shares in his company. My parents disapproved of Caleb, urging me to reconsider. But my mind was made up. Gotta stand up for yourself. The world keeps turning whether you’re there or not. While Caleb was a notorious womanizer, I had heard that he secretly protected the women he was involved with. My mother knew my personality and stopped arguing, telling the family to start making arrangements. Ethan arrived as I was coming downstairs in a bright red phoenix-embroidered gown to show my parents. Seeing me, he seemed to misunderstand. I saw a flash of surprise in his eyes. Then he raised his chin, sporting an “I knew it” expression. Sarah, who had just stepped into the doorway, couldn’t hide the jealousy in her eyes. “Riley, that dress is gorgeous. Are you going to wear it to marry Ethan?” I frowned and denied it. “No.” Ethan scoffed. “Don’t pretend, Riley. You were talking about calling off the wedding yesterday, and now you’re trying on dresses. Could you be any less composed?” Sarah pretended to be magnanimous, trying to smooth things over. “Yeah, Riley, Ethan and I both know you were just saying that in the heat of the moment. You didn’t mean it.” “Ethan, didn’t you get Riley a gift to apologize? Go on, give it to her!” Sarah urged, tugging at him. She wore a white dress, and as she moved, a flash of color caught my eye. I recognized it instantly. It was Ethan’s most treasured pin, one he’d shown me as a child. He said it was the only thing his mother had left him, and he’d said countless times that he would give it to his future wife. I’d been in love with him and had hinted at it many times. He always brushed it off and wouldn’t give it to me. Now it was on Sarah’s chest. Sarah seemed to notice my gaze and deliberately turned her body, her eyes filled with pride. Reminded by Sarah, Ethan reluctantly tossed a wooden box at me. Inside was a pin with peeling paint. He gave it to me like I’d won the lottery. “Here. It’s for you.” Looking at this junk he must have picked up from a trash can, I was furious. He was so generous with Sarah, so stingy with me. I resisted the urge to hit him and handed the box back. “No, thanks. Mr. Hayes, you can keep this for your dear sister.” Ethan’s face turned dark. Angered and embarrassed, he grabbed the box and threw it in the trash. “Have it your way.” At this, Sarah squeezed out a few tears and started rummaging through the trash. “Waaah, Riley, Ethan and I carefully picked this out for you! How can you reject our good intentions?” Ethan pulled her up, and they embraced, oblivious to everyone else. I rolled my eyes, finally realizing Sarah was here to mark her territory, and to see if I’d agree. “I’m saying again, I’m not marrying your Ethan. We’re done.” They clearly didn’t take me seriously. Sarah, feeling smug, shoved the box into my hand. “Riley, don’t be mad at Ethan. He was just trying to help me. He still loves you the most. Please don’t be angry with him, okay?” I stood on the stairs, my hand aching from her grip, and shook her off. “Get away from me. Don’t touch me.” I didn’t use much force, but she fell backwards, rolling down the stairs and landing on the floor, tears quickly welling up in her eyes. “Waaah, I’m sorry, Riley. I just wanted you to accept Ethan’s gift. I didn’t mean anything by it!” Ethan glared at me. “Riley, you’re impossible! Sarah spent the day with me buying you gifts to make you happy, respecting you. And this is how you treat her?” “Who would marry a venomous woman like you?” He scooped up Sarah and left. Sarah looked back, a smug smile on her face. It reminded me of the first time I met her. 3 Sarah was the scholarship student my dad sponsored. I first met her when Ethan was visiting. She was crying and begging my dad to pay for her to go to college. She was a skinny, pale girl, curled up and looking pitiful. Ethan, who was always kind-hearted, offered to help. Sarah later went to Hollywood and became a starlet, with Ethan acting as her protector. I was always jealous. He always explained, “I just feel sorry for Sarah. It’s hard for a girl like her in the industry without money or connections. We have to help her.” At first, I thought he was just sympathetic. Then he heard Sarah was going to marry Hayes, he dropped everything and ran to steal her away from the alter. The couple rushed straight to a hotel, acting like they hadn’t eaten in days. That’s when I realized that the weed on the hill had become Ethan’s most beautiful flower. The day before the wedding was Valentine’s Day, a day I used to look forward to. I always dreamed that Ethan would confess his love to me. Every year, I would drag him from one end of Main Street to the other. This year was the first time I came alone. As I walked down the street, crowds of people looked towards the town square. Curious, I overheard two people gossiping. “Wow, how romantic! The Young Enterprises heir moved all the roses in the market to the town square just to make his darling happy. Every color!” “Right? If I were that girl, I’d die of happiness.” “And that’s not all. Didn’t you see the posts online? He’s risking his relationships to be with her. If I could find a man like that, I’d die happy.” I rolled my eyes. His company was almost bankrupt, and he still had time for this. Just as I was about to leave, I heard a familiar voice. “Riley.” I turned to see Ethan and Sarah standing in the town square, surrounded by roses. She held a bouquet of blue roses and came towards me, their fragrance filling the air. “Riley, are you out celebrating the holiday?” Ethan was still angry from the day before and glared at me. Sarah handed me the flowers. “Riley, don’t get me wrong. It’s my birthday today, and Ethan’s keeping me company. I hope you’re not angry. Consider these flowers an apology.” “No, thanks.” Learning from the previous day, I stepped back, fearing she’d try to frame me again. Besides, I had no desire to steal anything, people or objects. Hearing this, Ethan’s face darkened. “Sarah, Miss Thompson doesn’t want our stuff. Let’s go shopping. You can have anything you want today.” With that, he pulled Sarah into the crowd. As soon as they left, a masked man shoved a bouquet of sunflowers, my favorite, into my arms. He looked familiar as he ran away. I looked down at the card attached to the flowers. “Turn towards the sun, you will be born again”. Even Ethan didn’t know that my favorite flower was sunflowers. A warmth flowed through me as I took them home. The next day, the maids dragged me out of bed and handed me over to the makeup artists. It finally hit me that I was getting married today. Not to Ethan, my childhood sweetheart, but to Caleb, a playboy I barely knew. I was nervous. Taking a deep breath, I decided to go through with it. No matter what happened in the future, I would be strong. As I finished getting ready, the wedding cars pulled up. But it wasn’t Caleb. It was Ethan. Looking at the black cars and Ethan’s disdainful face, I was incredulous. I thought I had made it clear, and I had returned his family’s dowry. What was he doing now? Seeing me in my wedding gown, Ethan impatiently urged me. “Riley, you’re finally out. I’ve been waiting forever. Get in the car.” I lost my temper at his rude attitude. “Ethan, are you crazy? Didn’t I tell you our engagement was off? I’m marrying someone else today.” “My fiancé will be here soon. Get your car out of here.” Ethan looked around and scoffed. “Alright, Riley, the cameras are rolling. Don’t overact, or I’ll really leave. Don’t come crawling back to me, begging me to marry you. You’ll lose face.” “Fine, since it’s our wedding day, I’ll cut you some slack.” I looked to where he was pointing and saw a man with a camera filming us. Before I could say anything, the sound of horns blared from a distance. Ethan raised an eyebrow. “Is there another wedding today?” His eyes widened. “Riley, does your dad have an illegitimate daughter?” I rolled my eyes. Before I could speak, Caleb hurried forward. Seeing Ethan and his wedding cars, Caleb raised his eyebrows. “What’s up? Mr. Hayes has a fetish for stealing other people’s brides?”

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I’m the daughter of a billionaire, back in the States ready to take over the family business. All it took was holding my brother’s arm at a fancy charity gala, and his sickly, delicate girlfriend, Brittany, flipped out, thinking I was trying to steal him. Last time around, she had some thugs cut off my hands and left me to rot. “He’s way too good for you, you little tramp!” she’d screamed. “Stay in your lane!” Even when Brittany’s own doctor begged my brother, Chad, to avenge me, he just shrugged it off. “So what if she’s my sister? If her dying makes Brittany happy, that’s good enough for me.” He even ran over the doctor outside the police station to cover up Brittany’s crime. But this time, I woke up right when Brittany was about to hack off my hands again. I hung up on Chad’s guilt-tripping phone call and dialed my dad. “Dad, tell every hospital we own – nobody treats Brittany. And cut Chad off. No inheritance. Kick him to the curb.” Let’s see who’s rotting in a ditch now. “Sleeping with my boyfriend while I’m recovering from chemo? You’ve got some nerve, Tiffany!” Brittany’s voice grated on my nerves, followed by a searing pain in my wrist. The pain snapped me awake. I opened my eyes to see Brittany, grinning like a maniac, digging into my wrist with a scalpel. Deja vu hit me hard. It was happening again. Through the tangled mess of hair stuck to my face, I could hear my brother, Chad, droning on through the Bluetooth earpiece. “Knock it off, Tiffany. Brittany wouldn’t kidnap you. And don’t try to guilt-trip her because you’re jealous. She’s going to be my wife. Don’t make her get her hands dirty. Got it?” My right hand was going numb. I closed my eyes, didn’t bother begging. Last time, I’d tried to explain, begged Chad to save me, swallowed my pride. He’d brushed me off. Brittany had seen right through it, smashed my phone, my only lifeline. Brittany yanked the scalpel out and slapped me across the face with the bloody thing. “Still playing innocent, huh? We’ll see how innocent you are in a minute!” My face burned. I tasted blood. Pretty sure I was disfigured. Brittany seemed satisfied with my wrecked state. She turned to leave, but I knew this wasn’t the end. She was going to bring those animals back, just like before. As she disappeared, I gnawed through the ropes with my teeth. Pulled out the hidden cell. Didn’t hesitate. I hung up on Chad and dialed my dad. The second I hit dial, I heard Brittany shriek behind me. “What do you think you’re doing?!” My heart leaped. I scrambled to run, but the phone connected. Brittany was charging at me with three huge guys sporting creepy grins. Last time, it had been a nightmare. I froze. I managed to choke out one last sentence. “Dad, help.” Brittany grabbed the phone and smashed it. But this time, I wasn’t panicking. My dad was coming. I’m the only biological daughter of billionaire oil magnate, Jack Sterling. His late wife died bringing me into this world, so I’ve been kept under lock and key. Anyone who even thought about messing with me got their life ruined. If my dad saw me like this, he’d lose it and make them pay a thousand times over. Brittany shoved me to the ground and ground her heel into my wrist. She pointed at the three goons. “She’s feisty, huh? I guess three might not be enough. Someone who sleep with her way to many people!” The thugs closed in, grinning nastily. I squeezed my eyes shut. Tears trickled out. But then, I heard a brawl break out. I peeked open my eyes. It was Ethan, the guy who’d tried to testify for me last time, only to get mowed down by Chad. 2 “I’ll hold them off, Tiffany. Run!” I didn’t know what to feel. I didn’t have time to think. I shook my head, trying to tell him no. “Get out of here! Don’t worry about me.” I was bleeding out, too weak to run even if I could stand. I couldn’t let him get hurt again. But it was too late. They kicked Ethan to the ground and started pounding him. My heart twisted. I tried to yell at them to stop, but it was no use. Brittany grabbed my hair and snarled, “Oh, look, the lapdog’s here. Coming to save you? Fine, you can both die!” Everything was getting blurry from the blood loss, but I glared at her. “You better let us go, Brittany. You can’t afford to hurt me!” Brittany laughed. “What are you gonna do about it? Chad’s a billionaire. He can make anything disappear.” “Then you’ll just watch as I put the video of you sleeps around the internet, Tiffany, I’ll see if you’re still as stubborn as you are now!” The thugs started coming toward me again, leering. Ethan, using his last ounce of strength, tried to grab their legs. They stomped on his arm without hesitation. I heard the crack of bone, shaking with rage. I blurted out, “Enough! Chad is adopted! I’m Jack Sterling’s only daughter!” “I could make him disappear with one phone call. If you don’t stop, I promise your lives will be a thousand times worse!” Brittany froze. She thought about it, then cackled. “Oh, honey, you’re losing it. Thinking you can snag Chad? Everybody knows Jack Sterling doesn’t have a daughter. Do your homework!” My heart sank. My family kept me hidden, always. Every dog that came near me got vetted. They scrubbed me from every public record. Plus, I took my mom’s maiden name, Lin. After a serious illness at five, I got sent overseas for treatment. Nobody knew the billionaire even had a Lin daughter. I grit my teeth, ignored the searing pain. “I’m telling the truth. Ask Chad!” Even though I knew he’d lie. Just to buy time until my dad got here… “Liar! You think I’m stupid?” Brittany slapped me again and yanked me to my feet. She pinched my cheeks, signaled for one of the thugs to grab an axe from the corner. I knew what she wanted. I started thrashing, bashing my head against Brittany’s face. Brittany staggered back, clutching her nose. Then she went ballistic. She hit me over and over. My face was on fire, but my limbs were ice cold. Was I really going to lose my hands again? Despair crashed over me. Just as the axe was about to fall, the factory door exploded open. An SUV barreled in, slamming into the guy with the axe. The thugs holding me jumped back. Brittany, seeing her plan fall apart, tried to bolt. But the bodyguards piling out of the SUV tackled her. My dad’s secretary, Mr. Davis, rushed over and told the others to get Ethan and me to the Sterling private hospital. 3 I’d barely gotten bandaged up and settled into the VIP suite when my dad called. I told him everything that happened. I couldn’t help but feel a warmth bloom in my chest for Ethan, being brave to protect me. But my dad was livid. “She tried to what?! Does Brittany know who she’s messing with? And that little weasel Chad – they’ll both regret being born.” I nodded. “Dad, I want Chad cut off. No more inheritance. Kick him out.” “And Ethan was a hero, by the way. I’ll introduce you later.” Dad promised, “Don’t worry, that little snake isn’t my son anymore if he dares to hurt you.” “My secretary will pick me up, get there right away to support you!” I hung up, finally letting out a breath. I wanted to check on Ethan next door. But the door burst open, and Chad stormed in with his own security team. He kicked me right in the gut. “Who gave you the right to mess with Brittany?!” I crumpled. I didn’t understand why he could hit me like that. He was adopted. My parents took him in. Before that, he was a stray, fighting dogs for scraps. I’d treated him like a brother before going overseas. Even told my dad I wanted him to help run the company. My family gave him a life, and he’d thrown me to the wolves. Brittany slinked out from behind him, all fake sympathy. “Leave her alone, Chad. She only said she’s a billionaire one to get your attention…” Chad sneered, looking down at me. “Oh, she’s a billionaire’s daughter, all right. The kind who sleeps her way to the top. You’re no Sterling.” “I grew up in the Sterling family. I know who the real Sterling is.” I felt a jolt. I was Jack Sterling’s daughter. Then an older guy, Mr. Johnson, stepped forward. He was my dad’s right-hand man. I felt a flicker of hope. I looked at him, but he stomped on my freshly bandaged wrist. “Look at this shameless woman, seducing my boss before seducing the young master. you even dared to impersonate our miss.” “What can I do to help you to grow your lessons!” He ground his heel into my wrist. Blood seeped through the gauze. Tears blurred my vision. “You’re insane! I am a Sterling!” But Mr. Johnson scoffed. “I’ve been with the family for years. You expect me to believe you’re a Sterling when I’ve never seen you?.” He yanked me up by my hair, his voice dripping with contempt. “The Sterlings coddle their daughter. If you were her, why wouldn’t Jack Sterling have mentioned you before?” “Enough lies. Chad already filled me in. You’re just a gold digger, manipulating the boss into pretending you’re his daughter. He hates you, so you’re trying to seduce Chad.” Johnson had twisted everything. I tried to explain Dad hid me to protect me. He played it cool when he saw me. But that was now “proof” I was a fake. Before I could speak, Brittany chimed in with fake concern. “I just wanted her to stop being the other woman, but she said she was a Sterling. Is someone like that really gonna give the family a good reputation?” 4 Johnson’s eyes gleamed. He waved the security team forward. They swarmed me. I tried to fight, but Johnson slapped me, reopening the wound on my face. Nobody had ever hit me. I was the Sterling’s treasured jewel. But today, I’d been slapped more times than I could count. It wasn’t just the pain. It was the humiliation. Brittany sauntered over and patted my swollen cheek. “Honey, I’ve seen your kind before, trying to claw your way up. You’re trash.” “Get on your knees and lick my and Chad’s shoes. Then shout ‘I’m a gold digger!’ Then I’ll let you be my maid.” I sneered. “You think you’re marrying into the Sterling family? I bet you and Chad will be out on the street.” “Chad isn’t a real Sterling. His life depends on what the Sterlings say.” Brittany froze. But Chad went berserk, smashing my head against the wall. “What did you say?!” “You just need to know that I could end you with a word.” He threw me to the ground like garbage. Blood streamed from my forehead. But I laughed. “What if Dad saw you hurting me? Would you survive?” Chad hesitated, then picked up a chair. “He wouldn’t care! I’m the Sterling heir. He wouldn’t kick me out for you!” Just as the chair was about to crush my skull, I was yanked into someone’s arms. Ethan took the blow. The chair crashed onto the back of his head. I heard him grunt and felt something wet on his head. My tears started falling. Doctors abroad taught Ethan. He met me, talked to me, didn’t even know my real name. But he kept choosing me, knowing the danger. I felt guilty for dragging him into this, but more than that, I was touched. Ethan, fighting dizziness, held me tight, roaring, “Enough! Tiffany is not the other woman. Stop hurting her!” The security team backed off, surprised by his outburst. Chad stared, then scoffed. “Idiot. What’s in it for you? You really think she’s a Sterling?” Johnson agreed, looking smug. “You don’t know how seriously the Sterling family guards their daughter.” “She was kidnapped once, her captors were killed. A maid tried to get close to Jack, her face was mutilated and she was sent to Burma.” “You’re playing a dangerous game.” Chad glared at Ethan, then snarled. “Hit him. Break his hands!” The security team jumped forward, pounding Ethan and me. Just as I was about to pass out from the pain, Johnson dragged me in front of Chad. My face was covered in blood, I’m not sure if it was from me or Ethan. He pried open my mouth. Brittany kneeled down, holding a scalpel. “The Sterling family’s honor must be protected. So I will punish you” She shoved the scalpel into my mouth. Blood choked me. Everything was blurring. I was going to die. Then the door burst open. And I heard my dad’s voice. “What’s going on here?”

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All because my childhood sweetheart wasn’t strong enough. My wife, being a real piece of work thanks to her old man’s money, forced me to donate my kidney to him. I resisted with everything I had, but then she beat our five-year-old son to a pulp and strung him up over the ocean. She threatened, “If you don’t give it up, I’ll drop this little bastard to his death!” My son cried with all his might, “Daddy, save me!” Looking at my son’s face, red with cold, my heart broke. I was forced onto the operating table. But then I heard my wife coldly order, “No anesthesia. Just take it.” “Make sure it’s in peak condition for Kenny!” I was pinned to the operating table, the scalpel slashing down. Three hours of torment. I was soaked in sweat, nearly passed out. But even when it was over, my son was still hanging off the cliff. I staggered to confront her, and my wife laid into me, “You have the nerve to ask?” “It’s probably because you’re such a lousy lay that Kenny doesn’t like the new kidney! Looks like I need to teach you a lesson!” Then, my son was thrown into the sea. His cries echoed across the water. Meanwhile, my wife spent a fortune on fireworks, celebrating her childhood sweetheart’s recovery. And I knelt by the shore, cradling my son’s broken body, consumed by hatred. 1. The town’s fireworks display went on for half an hour. I sat in my wheelchair, enduring the pain. I used a shovel to rake my son’s ashes out of the cold incinerator. As I carried his urn out of the funeral home, the staff were standing at the entrance, gabbing excitedly. “Did you see that? Sarah, the CEO of Song Corp, threw that shindig for the whole town to celebrate her childhood friend getting better.” “That must’ve cost a fortune, right? Like, a million bucks?” “More than that! She’s even got the whole fanciest restaurant in town booked for a week straight. Whatever you want, she’s paying for it. Can you imagine how much that’s gonna cost?” “If I had a sugar mama like that, I’d die happy.” “Yeah, right. Keep dreaming, pal.” Listening to the staff’s chatter, I didn’t notice the wheel getting stuck in a crack, and I pitched forward. To protect my son’s urn, I held it tight. The staff saw me and rushed over to help. “Are you okay, sir?” In the streetlight, they saw the bandages on my legs. The cuts meant I couldn’t even wear pants. The gravel had torn my skin, blood welling up, but I didn’t care. As long as my son was here, I could handle anything. The staff member who helped me saw the bandages on my thigh and looked at me with pity. Being a guy, he probably knew what was up. “Need a ride to the hospital? We’re just getting off work, we can give you a ride.” I waved them off, thanked them, and carried my son’s urn away. I had to take my son home. One hand steering the wheelchair, the other clutching the urn. The million-dollar fireworks continued to light up the sky. Everyone I passed was talking about the spectacle. I gritted my teeth as I went up the hill, only to realize I’d strained my wound. Blood poured out. The pain nearly made me faint. I collapsed on the roadside. A Good Samaritan found me and got me to the hospital. And that’s where I ran into Sarah and Kenny. “What are you doing here?” Sarah had been whispering something to Kenny, laughing, but she whipped around when she saw me. She looked at me with disgust. “Couldn’t even clean yourself up? You’re disgusting.” “All they did was cut you a little bit. Stop acting so weak, can’t even handle a little pain. Always playing the victim!” I was covered in sweat from rushing to the hospital, and I hadn’t had time to shower. I smelled like a funeral home, and I was covered in dirt and blood. Sarah and Kenny, on the other hand, were dressed to the nines, a perfect couple. It made me look even more pathetic. The blood meant I couldn’t talk to them. I just wanted to get fixed up and take my son home. I sat in the wheelchair, waiting for a doctor to take me away. Sarah’s voice rang out behind me. “Hey, Joey! Did you think you could just ignore me?” Sarah grabbed my wheelchair, trying to turn me around. The urn almost fell, and I grabbed it tight. Kenny looked surprised. “That urn looks expensive. You’re using Sarah’s money to buy a useless urn? Don’t you feel ashamed?” “Sarah is rich, but you can’t just waste it like that. She works hard at the office. Can’t you be more considerate?” My son was only five. He’d never even left the city. The last time he saw the ocean was when he died. I’d gone to hell and back to find his body after the sharks had mangled it. I’d been a terrible father when he was alive, unable to keep him healthy. Couldn’t I at least give him a good resting place? Besides, I’d sold my mother’s bracelet to buy that urn. What did it have to do with Sarah? Before I could say anything, Sarah kicked my wheelchair from behind. Caught off guard, the urn tumbled from my arms. 2. The urn crashed to the ground, the lid flying off. “No!” The urn landed on its side, the ashes spilling onto the ground. Ignoring the bleeding wound, I knelt down, trembling, and started gathering them. A foot kicked my hand away. “Gross! What are you doing? Get out of here!” I sobbed. “Please, stop it!” Sarah called over the cleaning staff, who started sweeping my son’s ashes into a trash bag. I flew at them, blood streaming down my face, but the ashes were already mixed with trash. “Sarah, are you even human? He was our son!” Sarah scoffed. “Joey, don’t think everyone’s stupid. You just dumped some nasty powder on the floor. Stop cursing the child! You don’t deserve to be a father!” The Song family was rich. After the wedding, Sarah said that men with money go bad, so I had to hand over all my money. Every expense had to be approved by the housekeeper. My son was weak, so I wanted to buy him extra food. But Sarah said, “He’s just a kid. He can’t eat that much. Don’t pretend you’re buying it for him so you can spend my money!” “I can’t stand men who want money!” My son got skinnier and skinnier. The money Sarah gave me was only enough for three simple meals a day. I wanted to work. She fired the staff and gave me 500 dollars a month to do housework. “I’m paying you 500 dollars to do work at home. Stop bothering me.” The extra 500 dollars was useless. I had to save my portion for my son, but he was still more frail than other kids. I swallowed my pride for that 500 dollars, but she could spend millions on Kenny. Sarah watched as I picked the ashes out of the trash, her face disgusted. “There’s no way that’s all that’s left of a person! If you’re gonna fake it, at least make it look real!” My son had always been smaller than other kids, and the sharks had torn him apart. Before I could say anything, she continued, “Get out of here! Stop embarrassing yourself. You’re just trying to get my attention!” The doctor wheeled in a cart to re-bandage my leg. I couldn’t help but ask, “Why are they examining me again? They already took what they wanted, right?” Sarah rolled her eyes, her voice sharp. “How dare you! If it wasn’t for you, Kenny wouldn’t have gotten a disease. I haven’t even charged you for it yet, and you dare to question me?” “Gross! I can’t believe you’re like this!” The doctor tried to take me away, but I didn’t feel any pain. I just stared at Sarah. “Sarah, my son is dead!” The room went silent. After a moment, Sarah laughed. “Joey, stop faking it. I sent rescue teams to the area.” “Can’t you stop lying? It’s so immature!” “Cursing with your son, you’re such a good father.” She sneered. “Hope you don’t get punished.” Weren’t these two the ones who deserved to be punished the most! I was numb. I didn’t want to say anything more. I knelt on the ground, ignoring the doctor, and tried to gather the ashes. I didn’t care if it touched trash. My child couldn’t have any less. Suddenly, a leather shoe came down on my hand. 3. “Ah!-” I screamed. The shoe ground into my fingers. I heard Kenny apologize, acting innocent. “Oh, Joey. Sorry. I didn’t mean to. I just had surgery, and I’m not too steady.” He was six feet away from me. How could he step on my hand if he wasn’t steady? He was doing it on purpose! Rage flooded my mind. I grabbed a can that I’d found in the trash and threw it at him. Kenny dodged to the side, and it hit him in the leg. He crouched down, clutching his leg, and told Sarah. “Sarah, I think my wound ripped open?” Before I could react, Sarah kicked me in the chest with her high heels. “Kenny apologized. Why are you causing trouble?” “He just had surgery. How could you hit him with a can!” The can had hit his calf. It hadn’t even touched his thigh! I was silent. Sarah glared at me. “Kneel. Apologize to Kenny!” I knew her personality. If I didn’t apologize, she wouldn’t let me leave the hospital. I didn’t want to see them again. I wanted to take my son home. I swallowed my anger, knelt in front of Kenny, and bowed my head. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have hit you.” Then, I shakily got to the wheelchair, grabbed the urn, and got ready to go home. But Sarah kicked the wheelchair even further away. “Is that how you apologize?” I didn’t want to argue anymore, but Kenny was fanning the flames. “Why doesn’t Joey like me?” His eyes were red, and he sniffled. Sarah hated seeing him like that. Sarah kicked my elbow, and I instinctively let go of the urn. She snatched it. I couldn’t get up. All I could do was look at Sarah with pleading eyes. “Don’t!” She sneered. “I know how much you care about this trash. I’ll throw it away.” “Sarah, please, I’m sorry. I’ll apologize to Kenny. Don’t throw it away, please!” I crawled over to Kenny and grabbed his leg, begging. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Blood dripped from my forehead into my eyes, but I didn’t care. I just wanted Sarah to put it down. “Sarah, please give me the urn. That’s my son’s ashes.” I cried. “He wasn’t healthy. He was small for his age. And the sharks tore him apart. Here’s the death certificate!” “If you don’t believe me, ask the funeral staff. Please give him back.” Sarah paused, her arm lowering. She got ready to take my phone to check. “If you’re lying, I’ll cut out your tongue!” I let out a breath of relief. As soon as she asked, she’d know I wasn’t lying, and she’d give me my son’s urn. Suddenly, Kenny started screaming. “Sarah! My head is spinning. Maybe it was all the excitement.” “Sarah, where are you? I can’t see!” Sarah panicked, throwing my phone away and hugging Kenny, yelling for a doctor. I’d never heard her so anxious. I used to be jealous. Now, I was just numb. 4. After taking my son’s ashes home to bury, I called the rescue team again. Sarah had said that she’d arranged for a rescue boat nearby, but there hadn’t been any boat there. I’d even had to beg for the rescue. They’d found my son’s body downstream. With my doubts, I went to the rescue team. “Hello, has anyone contacted you recently?” I was alone, and the wheelchair made it hard to move. The staff was helpful. I showed them my son’s death certificate and rescue messages to prove my identity. The staff recognized me. “Were you the one looking for his son the other day?” I nodded. “Yeah, that was me. My wife said she hired you to be on standby, but I didn’t see any rescue boats at the ocean. So, I wanted to ask again.” An older staff member took me to the office and asked for details. Then, he seemed to remember something, and he got serious. “We did get a mission for standby rescue, but before we got to the location, the client canceled the operation. They didn’t ask for the money back, so we assumed they didn’t need us.” “That was on the same day your son fell into the ocean.” Sarah showed me a video of my son hanging over the ocean. To save him, I had to agree. I thought if I agreed, she’d let him go. I didn’t know she canceled the rescue! “What are you doing here!” Sarah yelled. I stood up, grabbed her collar, and shouted, “Why did you cancel! Why!” The staff held me back. Sarah waved her hand. She apologized to the staff. “It’s okay. He isn’t feeling well.” “Thank you for calling me. Sorry for the trouble.” She always maintained a good image in front of others. The staff sighed, trying to comfort her. “It’s okay. It’s what we do. Your son was young, and his body wasn’t whole. It’s normal for the father to not feel well. We were worried, so we looked through his phone and called you.” Sarah looked confused. “What ‘not whole’ body? Whose son died?” The staff looked confused and handed her the death certificate and rescue photos. “Isn’t this your son?”

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When I got diagnosed with cancer, my classmates laughed like I was already dead. When I got bit by a zombie, they grabbed makeshift weapons and told me to get lost. When I turned out to be the only person bitten who didn’t turn, suddenly they were all on their knees, begging me— Begging me to save their lives. 01 My name is Sarah. I’m 20. Just your average, unremarkable college sophomore. Except I just found out I have cancer. Stage four. About a month after my diagnosis, the zombie virus hit campus like a bomb. One minute, it was your typical sunny, energetic college green; the next, everyone was scrambling, desperate to escape the walking dead. Me? The sick girl? I basically just gave up, letting the panicked crowd shove me along until I ended up crammed into a storage room. There were already a bunch of people hiding inside. Before I could even get my bearings, someone shrieked: “Sarah! She’s been bitten!” Instantly, every eye in the room locked onto me. I glanced down. Sure enough, a clear bite mark on my wrist. Oh yeah, I remembered now. In the chaos outside, I saw Jessica, a girl from my class, about to get dragged away by a zombie. I yanked her back, out of stupid instinct, and got chomped in the process. And the person screaming about me being bitten? Jessica, of course. “Sarah, you’re bitten. Just get out of here,” Tiffany, the campus queen bee who always hated me for beating her in academics, stepped up, acting like she was in charge of who lived and died. The ridiculous part? No one disagreed. All fifteen or so of them just stared at me, pure terror in their eyes, like I was about to foam at the mouth and take a chunk out of them. Then the fear turned to anger. Jessica piled on, “Sarah, you’ve got cancer anyway, you’re gonna die soon. Don’t drag us down with you.” Tiffany added, her voice dripping venom, “Yeah, just get lost.” Suddenly, the whole storage room was echoing the same sentiment. “Get out!” It felt just like after my diagnosis. Tiffany, still bitter I’d won first place in the talent show she thought was hers, cornered me with her little clique. She’d sneered, “Sarah, what did you do to deserve this? Getting a death sentence so young? Serves you right!” Her followers chorused: “Serves you right!” Then, like now, I felt… nothing. Calm. I grew up an orphan, no parents. Always been quiet, maybe a little aloof. “Offending” the popular girl meant I got shoved around a lot. Facing actual death now, their petty high school drama meant absolutely nothing. I looked one last time at Jessica. My voice was steady. “I got bitten saving you.” Jessica rolled her eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean, Sarah? Guilt trip me? I didn’t ask you to save me.” “Fine,” I said. With that, I turned sharply and walked out. As the door slammed behind me, I heard the distinct click of a lock. I let out a small, cold chuckle. “Serves them right.” The next second, Jessica’s bloodcurdling scream ripped through the air, followed by a chorus of horrifying shrieks from inside the storage room. Jessica noticed my bite, sure. But I guess she didn’t notice someone else in that room had been bitten too. 02 The storage room door was rattling like crazy. I just pursed my lips, feeling zero sympathy, and turned down a side path. I made my way to the campus convenience store. Figured I should load up on real food before I turned, instead of craving… well, you know. I grabbed a double chocolate muffin and was about to take a bite when the world spun, and everything went black. When I came to, maybe half an hour had passed. Using a metal shelf as a makeshift mirror, I checked myself out. Didn’t look like I’d turned. Weird. Just then, a zombie, smeared head-to-toe in blood, lurched around the end of the aisle. It spotted me, let out a guttural roar, and charged. Its roar attracted others. Suddenly, the store was filling up. The first one was almost on me. Even though I was dying anyway, I didn’t fancy getting torn apart by zombies. Instinctively, I kicked out. The next thing I knew, the zombie flew backward like a broken kite, crashing into a display rack. More growls behind me. I spun, tried a few more kicks. In seconds, a whole group of them were embedded in the drywall, twitching uselessly. Okay, so maybe I had changed. Where else would I get the power to take down zombies bare-handed like some kind of superhero?! The dead bodies were kind of ruining my appetite, though. I dragged them outside and tossed them near the dumpsters. Just as I was about to head back in for my muffin, I heard a desperate yell for help from down the street. I squinted. A familiar figure sprinted into view. He was wearing track pants, four or five zombies clawing at his back, his incredibly handsome face pale with terror. My brow furrowed hard. Jake? What was he doing here? He was in my classes, but he’d dropped out right after I got my diagnosis. Why was he back on campus? While I was spacing out, he let out a yelp and tripped, face-planting onto the pavement. Jake! That was my crush! I was obsessed with his perfect face. A surge of protective anger shot through me. I moved faster than I ever thought possible, launching myself forward. A flurry of kicks sent the zombies daring to mess with my crush’s face flying. Then, I hauled Jake up and booked it. Yeah, hauled him. Like a sack of potatoes over my shoulder. I don’t know if zombies have a thing for good looks, or maybe they were after Jake’s brain—all the professors raved about how smart he was. More and more zombies were heading our way, drawn to Jake—or maybe me carrying him. I wasn’t worried about getting bitten again, but Jake couldn’t get hurt. Panicked, I somehow managed to sprint all the way back to the convenience store carrying him. I set him down gently. My heart was hammering, totally embarrassed and flustered, but I couldn’t let him see that. Play it cool. I calmly handed him a bottle of water. He seemed shell-shocked, probably hadn’t even registered that I’d just carried him like some kind of cavewoman. He took the water silently, unscrewed the cap, and gulped down half the bottle. Jake was my ultimate crush, the guy I’d been secretly obsessed with forever. People say when you’re dying, you make a bucket list. Mine basically had one item: Spend time with Jake before I die. And here we were. Apocalypse. Convenience store. Me and Jake. Thump-thump-thump— My heart was going crazy. Trying to cover my excitement, I asked, “Jake, didn’t you drop out? What are you doing back here?” He choked on his water, coughed a few times, then explained, “Yeah, I dropped out. Got chased back onto campus by accident.” He looked up, his eyes full of gratitude. “Sarah, thanks for saving me.” He’d been running for a while when I found him. I felt a flicker of worry. “Are you okay? Did they get you? Did you get bitten?” He thought for a second. Just as my anxiety spiked, he said, “No. I’m okay.” I breathed a sigh of relief. I turned to grab him some food from the shelves. He followed right behind me, practically stepping on my heels, like he was terrified I’d abandon him. I stopped in front of a rack of chips. Facing away from him, I said quietly, “Don’t worry. I won’t ditch you.” Couldn’t even if I wanted to, I thought. I’ve been crushing on you since freshman orientation. The words felt like a confession. My face flushed. I thought I heard him murmur behind me, “Good. I owe you one. I’ll pay you back.” 03 The convenience store had a small employee break room in the back. Jake used the sink to wash his face and came out, hair still damp. I turned my head and froze. He was standing in the doorway, shirtless. Perfect V-taper, clearly defined abs, smooth lines… A few drops of water trickled enticingly down his neck, tracing a path over his muscles and disappearing below the waistband of his track pants… My face instantly felt like it was on fire. I whipped my head away. My voice came out huskier than I intended. “Put a shirt on.” I heard a hint of disappointment in Jake’s voice from the doorway. “Aw, and here I thought you might like the view. Did it just for you, you know.” “…” This was how he planned to “pay me back”? Giving me a free show?! Despite myself, my heart hammered, and my cheeks burned. I muttered something about needing to change too and ducked into the break room. Hauling Jake around earlier had made me sweat buckets, and my bite wound seemed to be throbbing more. As I peeled off my shirt, I winced. Pain shot up my arm. I reached for the gauze I’d wrapped around it earlier and accidentally knocked over a glass tumbler. The shattering sound was deafening in the quiet room. Almost instantly, the door flew open. I stared, shocked, at Jake standing there, his face etched with worry. It took me a half-second to remember I was standing there in just my bra. “Get out!” Mortified and furious, I spun around, hugging myself, feeling like a boiled lobster. “Didn’t see anything! Sorry, sorry!” Jake stammered apologies, backing out clumsily and kicking over a mop bucket in the process. The door clicked shut. I glanced back to make sure it was closed before finally letting out a shaky breath. When I finished changing and opened the door, I stopped dead. He was still standing right there. “Why are you still here?” Remembering the shirtless incident, my face started heating up again. Jake looked at me, his expression serious. He reached a hand toward my left arm. I instinctively covered my sleeve, wary. “What are you doing?” “You’re hurt. Let me see.” I tried to pull my arm back, narrowing my eyes. “You just said you didn’t see anything.” Jake’s hand froze for a second, guilt flashing across his face. But even so, he persisted, determined to see my arm. I couldn’t fight him off; he managed to grab my wrist. “Ow!” The struggle jostled my freshly bandaged wound, and I sucked in a sharp breath. Jake’s expression darkened. He shot me a glare, then carefully, gently rolled up my sleeve. “How did this happen? Does it hurt?” His eyes fixed on the messy bandage job, his tone low and serious. His hand held mine firmly; I couldn’t pull away. “Just scratched myself, it’s nothing.” “Nothing? It’s bleeding through the gauze, Sarah! That’s not ‘nothing’!” “Jake! Let go of me! I told you, I’m fine!” He started pulling me back toward the break room. It was ironic. He was the one terrified of zombies, chased across campus. I was the one who could kick them through walls. Yet, he dragged me along, and I couldn’t seem to resist at all. He found a first-aid kit under the sink and, without another word, grabbed scissors to cut off my makeshift bandage. I didn’t want him to see the actual bite mark. I struggled desperately. “Don’t move!” Jake barked, looking up, his deep eyes filled with frustration. The bandage came away, bit by bit. I watched him nervously, my fingers curling slightly. When the wound was fully exposed, his expression changed, just as I’d feared. I pressed my lips together, about to yank my hand back, but instead, he picked up tweezers, dabbed cotton with antiseptic, and started cleaning the wound. His movements were efficient, precise. He even tied the new bandage with a surprisingly cute little bow. Jake stood up, looking down at me intently. “A zombie bite. Why didn’t you tell me?” “It happened a while ago. I’m fine.” My heart was pounding. I was terrified he’d react like the others – yell at me, run away. I started to explain, that I was bitten but didn’t turn, that I somehow got powers instead. But his expression held no fear, no disgust. Just concern. He asked softly, “Does it hurt?” After everything – the near-death, the honesty – The distance between people seemed to shrink. A warmth spread through my chest. “Doesn’t hurt.”

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I became a vegetable after a car crash. Except I couldn’t wake up, couldn’t move. Everything else worked fine. Hearing the doctor confirm my vegetative state at the hospital, I fell apart inside. But thankfully, I had a family that loved me very much. They carefully asked the doctor about all the things needed to take care of me. Like turning me every two hours, managing my bodily functions regularly, talking to me a lot. Honestly, I wished they’d just let me go. But I couldn’t bear to leave my family. And my family didn’t give up on me. They brought me home and took meticulous care of me. One day, I drifted out of sleep. From outside the room, I heard my mother-in-law let out a bloodcurdling scream. Then a child’s cry – must have been my daughter. My husband’s voice yelled, “What are you doing?!” But then, silence. All I could hear was the endless, rhythmic sound of chopping. Like a butcher working nonstop. Who was here? What happened to my family? The chopping went on and on. Gradually, a heavy smell of blood filled the air. Mixed with the chopping was a woman’s laughter. The voice sounded familiar, but I couldn’t place it. Why was she killing my family? Who was she? If I weren’t like this, trapped in my own body. I’d be shaking with rage, bursting out of this room to fight her. But I could only lie here. Helpless. Listening as this person murdered the people I loved most. I don’t know how much time passed before I heard footsteps outside my door. It was her! The killer! She turned the doorknob. My heart leaped into my throat. I forced myself to keep my heartbeat steady. 2. To my surprise, the woman didn’t do anything to me. She seemed exhausted. She lay down beside me on the bed. Soon, I heard the slow, even sound of her breathing as she slept. When she woke up, she didn’t leave. She actually started living in my house. I remained motionless in bed. Every time I remembered the happy times with my family. Hatred surged through me. I hated being useless like this, unable to move. Hated that I couldn’t avenge them myself. Maybe someone up there heard my wish. My fingers started to twitch. Joy sparked in me – a good sign. I prayed I’d wake up soon. I didn’t know why this woman hadn’t killed me. But if I woke up, she wouldn’t get away with this. Ever since she killed my family, the woman stayed in my house. And every day, she slept next to me. After waking up, she’d leave for a long time. When she came back, I’d hear her in the kitchen, cooking. Then, the sound of her watching TV in the living room. Acting like she owned the place. Every night before sleeping, she’d sit in my room and talk. I couldn’t tell if she was talking to me or just herself. What she said was always the same. Cursing my family. She’d use my in-laws’, my husband’s, and my child’s names, then launch into long tirades. She called my father-in-law a hypocrite, dirty, disgusting. Lies! My father-in-law was refined, honorable, always straightforward. She said my mother-in-law was lazy, greedy, sharp-tongued, and cruel. I screamed back in my head – my mother-in-law was gentle, kind, understanding. She said my child was ungrateful, a little viper we’d raised. But my child was sweet and well-behaved. She said my husband was treacherous, a womanizer. My husband was the most honest, reliable man, completely devoted to me. She cursed everyone. Except me. Who was this woman? Why did she have such twisted ideas about my family? 3. I could feel movement returning to my hands and feet. Whenever the woman was out, I secretly tried to move, doing my own physical therapy. I had a feeling I’d wake up soon. Lying there, I planned what I’d do when I woke up. And I survived by reliving precious memories of my family. I grew up an orphan, so I always craved love. I dreamed someone would cherish me completely. Then, just like I wished, he appeared. My future husband, Alex. I met him in college. It was cliché, really. I’d been studying in the library all morning. When I came out, it was pouring rain. And I didn’t have an umbrella. Starving, I just stood by the door, waiting for it to stop. “Hey, need to share my umbrella?” A gentle, magnetic voice spoke. I turned and saw a guy in a white shirt, holding an umbrella, tilting his head as he looked at me. His eyes were dark, clear, and incredibly kind. He rendered me speechless. Suddenly, my stomach betrayed me with a loud growl. As I flushed with embarrassment, the guy beside me chuckled softly. “I’m starving too. Let’s hit the cafeteria together.” From that day on, we slowly became friends, then more than friends. Alex was wonderful to me. He brought me breakfast every morning, surprised me with gifts, took me out, listened to all my worries and trivial complaints, studied with me. He gave me complete security and companionship. When he found out I was an orphan, he took me to meet his family. They liked me immediately. His parents treated me like their own daughter. My father-in-law gave me advice on my studies and career path. My mother-in-law took me shopping for clothes; we could talk about anything. In my junior year, I got pregnant and had to take a year off. I didn’t want to terminate the pregnancy; this baby was a symbol of Alex’s and my love. But taking a year off school was a big deal. My body changed, and being stuck at home all day, I developed prenatal depression. I refused to see anyone, just cried at home constantly. Alex and his family were worried. I moved into their house. My in-laws took such good care of me. Alex’s family lived in the same city as the university. So, he switched to commuting and came home every day to be with me. With their support, I slowly got better. After I gave birth to a daughter, Alex and his family were overjoyed. Once I recovered, Alex formally proposed. Under a sky full of stars, he looked deep into my eyes and promised: “Let me give you a warm home.” I said yes, tears streaming down my face. Offering me a home, to someone who’d never had one, was impossible to refuse. We officially started our life together, a happy family of five. After the baby, everyone supported me going back to finish my degree. My in-laws helped watch the baby. I focused completely on my studies. Finally, I graduated with my diploma and degree. After graduation, I even got a job at a major company. Career, love, and family – I had it all by age 23. After getting married, Alex and I worked during the day, and his parents watched our daughter. In the evenings, Alex and I would take her out. On weekends, Alex and I would have date nights. My daughter was sweet and sensible, the kind of angel baby everyone talks about. She did well in school, never gave us any trouble. My sweet girl would even make me birthday presents. She told me I was the most beautiful mom in the world. But now, all of it was destroyed. Lying in bed, I suddenly felt a tickle on my cheek. Tears were rolling down my face. What did our family ever do to that woman? Why would she be so brutal? 4. After who knows how long, I suddenly felt I could control my body again. My eyes flew open, my heart pounding wildly. Just as joy flooded me – the chance to avenge my family – a voice echoed in my mind: Forget the truth. It sounded like an old man. What truth? I was confused. But I didn’t dwell on it. I needed to get out. The woman had just left; now was the perfect time to escape. I stood up, only to immediately fall. Sharp pain shot through me. My body had been rigid for too long; it wasn’t fully recovered. I sat on the floor for a while, catching my breath. Dragging and crawling, I made my way out of the room. The house looked the same, just as it was before the accident. I scrambled to the TV stand, found the landline, and dialed 911. When the operator answered, I explained the situation. But strangely, they said they couldn’t hear me, told me not to tie up emergency lines. I thought maybe the phone was broken, but I couldn’t find my cell anywhere. I needed to get out, report this at the police station. But the front door was locked. We lived on the eighteenth floor; jumping wasn’t an option. Too much time had passed since I woke up. I was scared the woman would be back soon. Hurriedly, I crawled back to my room and resumed my vegetative act. I decided I couldn’t let her know I was awake. I was afraid she’d kill me, and I’d lose my chance for revenge. Besides, my body wasn’t strong enough yet; I wouldn’t win a fight. Suddenly, I heard the woman returning. I quickly lay back down, mimicking the posture I’d held for so long. The woman went through her usual routine: cooking, watching TV, then coming into my room to talk to herself. But this time was different. As she spoke, she suddenly burst into tears. She sobbed heartbrokenly, murmuring, “My poor daughter… ruined by you people…” Daughter? What did she mean? What happened to this woman’s daughter? Did she kill my family because something happened to her child? Still, I trusted my family. They wouldn’t do anything illegal or immoral. I lay perfectly still, afraid to even breathe too loudly. It was agonizing, trying to keep my breathing slow and rhythmic. Don’t let her notice anything. Luckily, she was too caught up in her grief to pay attention to me. After crying, she got into bed beside me. My palms were sweating, I was so tense. After what felt like an eternity, the woman fell asleep. I slightly turned my head, wanting to open my eyes just a crack to see who this person with the familiar voice was. The moment I saw her face clearly. My blood ran cold. I was looking at a face identical to my own! How could someone look exactly like me? My whole body started trembling uncontrollably. No wonder the voice was familiar – her voice was identical to mine too. Suddenly, the woman shifted in her sleep. I slammed my eyes shut, pretending to be unresponsive. My mind reeled with disbelief. I lay awake all night, considering endless possibilities. Could she be a twin sister I never knew? Being an orphan, I had no way of knowing if I had siblings. But if she were my sister, why wouldn’t she reveal herself? And why murder my family so brutally? I couldn’t believe it, didn’t want to believe it. Even if she was my sister, I wouldn’t acknowledge her. Not after she killed the people I loved. There was another possibility. She deliberately had plastic surgery to look like me. Then, using my face, she killed my family, moved into my house, and planned to frame me for everything. The second possibility felt more logical, more acceptable. I remembered my mother-in-law kept a spare key in her room. I continued playing the part of a vegetable, planning to grab the key and escape the next day when the woman left. 5. The next day, the woman went out. My body wasn’t as stiff as yesterday, though my steps were still unsteady. I slowly walked to my mother-in-law’s room and found the key in a drawer. For some reason, the room felt… eerie. Suddenly, my hand slipped, and the key clattered to the floor. I bent down to pick it up. And noticed something under the bed. I looked closer, my eyes meeting the wide-open, staring eyes of a corpse beneath the bed. I screamed. But quickly regained composure, tears streaming silently down my face. Under the bed lay the bodies of my father-in-law and mother-in-law. No! Not bodies… pieces. That cruel, vicious woman had dismembered them, stacking the pieces under the bed. Their heads were placed there too. I fought to suppress my sobs. Then, I searched the entire house for my husband and daughter. I finally found my husband’s body in the freezer. But I couldn’t find my daughter. Instead, I found the body of a little boy. The child’s cry I’d heard that first day must have been his. Children’s voices can sound similar; I must have mistaken it. Could my daughter still be alive? A flicker of hope ignited within me. I quickly used the key to unlock the front door and ran downstairs as fast as I could. Running was difficult. I grabbed a passerby, trying to borrow their phone to call the police. But the person ignored me. I tried stopping person after person on the street; they all ignored me. I had no money. All I could do was force my unsteady legs to carry me towards the nearest police station. My bare feet burned against the pavement. When I reached the station, I grabbed an officer, trying to report the crime. But even stranger, no one at the station paid any attention to me. Okay, strangers ignoring me might be plausible. But why were the police ignoring me too? I glanced at a reflective surface nearby and saw… nothing. No reflection. I froze, then looked down and noticed something even weirder. My feet were bare. Logically, they should be scraped and bleeding from running on the pavement. But instead of cuts, I felt a searing, burning pain. Am I a ghost? Can no one see me because I’m already dead? Was I never really a vegetable? Was I dead all along? I collapsed onto the ground, feeling utterly lost. Thinking back, my time as a “vegetable” did feel a lot like being dead. Wait! Then how could that woman touch me? When I was lying in bed, that woman could see me. The first day she came into my room, she touched my hand and face, even tucked me in. At the time, I’d mentally cursed her hypocrisy. 6. I sat on the ground, thinking for a long time. I decided to go back. If no one else could help me, I’d have to get revenge myself. I couldn’t find my daughter, but since her body wasn’t in the house, maybe she was safe for now. I had to kill that woman quickly. She had cursed my child; clearly, she had a vendetta against my whole family. I don’t know why she spared me, but once she’s dead, my daughter will be safe, and my family will be avenged. I went back home, grabbed a kitchen knife from the drawer, and hid it under the covers. Since no one else could see me, I figured I’d just confront her directly. I lay back down on the bed, waiting for the woman to return. Click. She was back. Same routine: cook, watch TV. Then she opened the door to my room. She started her daily cursing ritual. I silently retorted in my head: You murderer, tomorrow you won’t have the chance to curse anyone. Finally, the woman got ready for bed. Hearing her slow, even breathing, I carefully reached under the covers for the knife. Just as I opened my eyes, ready to strike, I saw her lying beside me, eyes wide open, calmly watching me. My heart jumped, but I didn’t hesitate. I swung the knife. She rolled sideways, dodging the blow, then kicked me hard, snatching the knife from my hand. I failed. All that time lying helpless in bed had ruined my reflexes. Defeated, I slumped to the floor, bracing for death. But surprisingly, the woman didn’t kill me. She found a rope and tied me up. I couldn’t break free. I resigned myself to my fate. “Who are you?” I asked her. “I am you. You are me. But… not entirely me.” I didn’t understand. This woman was crazy. “Why did you kill my family?” I demanded. “Because they deserved to die.” Rage choked me, leaving me speechless. The woman fell silent too, just staring blankly in my direction. Being watched by someone who looked exactly like me was deeply unsettling. But I couldn’t help studying her. I noticed that although she looked like me, she seemed older, exhausted. There were fine lines around her eyes, her skin was sallow, and even her hair seemed dull, almost grayish. I could never let myself look like that. Before the accident, I loved skincare and dressing up. When I was out with my daughter, people often thought I was her older sister. How dare this woman say she was me

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My twin sister, an influencer desperate for a comeback, abused me in my hospital bed and filmed it all. She pretended the footage was of her to milk sympathy from her followers. She ended up making bank, but wouldn’t spend a dime on my treatment. Then, afraid I’d expose her, she smothered me with a pillow. Next thing I know, I wake up. Back on the day her video went viral. This time, I’ll make sure she’s ruined, disgraced, and doesn’t scam a single cent. 1 Overnight, the video of me lying helpless in a hospital bed blew up. Mom stared at the like count, her eyes gleaming with excitement. “Get more footage, film more! This could go huge!” Then, feigning concern, “Hmm, maybe it’s not tragic enough. Needs more punch to really go viral.” She shook her head sadly, then looked straight at me, her eyes practically glowing. “Jessica, honey, you need to tough it out for your sister’s career. Remember how you hogged all the nutrients in the womb? Payback time.” Mom ripped at my hospital gown, pinching my skin hard. My body was already a canvas of black and blue marks. Her nails dug into my flesh, twisting and pressing brutally. The higher the likes climbed, the harder she hurt me. To craft an even more ‘authentic’ image, Ashley even used a lit cigarette to burn the skin around my IV sites. My hands clenched in pain, my whole body started shaking. Ashley couldn’t stand any resistance. Her slaps rained down on me. Harder each time. “You owe me this, Jessica.” My frail, sick body couldn’t take it. Blood started trickling from the corner of my mouth. They filmed me like this, then carefully arranged the blankets to hide the worst of the bruises before posting. Sure enough, a few hours later, it exploded. Top trending topic. People online rushed to donate money for ‘my’ medical bills. Ashley, rolling in the dough, panicked that I’d spill the beans. She pressed a pillow over my face, her hands clamping tight around my neck. She suffocated me. Just like that. Before I blacked out, I saw Mom patting Ashley’s shoulder. “It’s okay, honey, it’s okay. She was just paying you back, like she should.” Mom’s words were like daggers, slicing me up piece by piece. My body died. But my heart? That died the day I realized Mom would always choose Ashley. 2 When I opened my eyes again, I was back. The day the video went viral. This time, I didn’t fight back against their abuse. I even ‘helpfully’ suggested they buy some engagement, boost the post to hit the trending topics. “I’m gonna be famous! I’m gonna be famous! Hahahaha!” Ashley danced around the hospital room like a lunatic. I watched her pathetic little jig, my face cold. The higher you climb, the harder you fall. This time, she’d shatter. Fueled by Ashley and Mom’s promotion, the video shot to number one on the trending list. Then came the shriek that filled the room. “How?! How could they know? How did they find out the truth?!” Ashley’s face twisted into an ugly mask. She crouched down, clawing at her hair. Mom just collapsed onto a chair, eyes vacant, looking like she’d aged ten years in an instant. A small smile played on my lips. I picked up my phone and scrolled through the storm of online hate directed at them. “God, she’s so ugly and shameless. People will do anything for money.” “Ugh, using her sick sister to scam people? She deserves the worst.” “So disgusting. I actually felt sorry for her and donated quite a bit. What a lowlife bitch.” … The online sentiment flipped overnight. Sympathy turned to venom. The virtual spit almost drowned Ashley. She had no choice but to delete all her accounts. Hiding behind her screen like the coward she was. Suddenly, Ashley glared at me, pure malice in her eyes. She lunged. “It was you, wasn’t it?! You ruined me! Jessica, I’m gonna kill you!” Before her fist could land, a doctor rushed in and escorted her out. Seeing Ashley losing her mind, pacing frantically, felt unbelievably satisfying. Sweet, sweet justice. 3 The night the video first exploded, I begged every doctor and nurse I could find. Tears streaming, I described the hell I was living through. How my mother and sister were using my illness to scam people online. The medical staff listened, horrified and heartbroken. They all stepped up, offering to testify for me. And thanks to Ashley spending money to boost the post? There was no way she could spin this now. The truth was out there, amplified. My medical bills got covered by genuine donations from strangers who heard the real story. After I recovered, I found a decent job. It wasn’t long before Mom showed up, demanding money. Apparently, Ashley had gotten pregnant by some guy who’d recently struck it rich. His family demanded a $100,000 ‘dowry’ from them before they’d let Ashley marry him. “Your sister’s about to marry into wealth! As her sister, you should contribute.” Mom grabbed at my clothes, her hand reaching for my pocket. Her entitlement was almost comical. “Anyone with eyes can see that family’s just trying to scam you. Only idiots like you would actually fall for it and offer to pay them.” Mom raised her hand to slap me. “It’s a test! They’re testing our sincerity! Once she’s married, she’ll be living in luxury!” I shook my head, catching her wrist and shoving her hand away forcefully. “I’m not giving you a single penny. If she wants to marry him that badly, take out a loan.” Mom pointed a shaking finger at me, unleashing a torrent of abuse. “You ungrateful brat! You worthless snake! I regret the day you were born!” She started throwing a full-blown tantrum right there on the street, wailing and rolling around. Passersby started gathering, whispering among themselves. “Wow, that daughter’s heartless. Look how desperate her poor mother is.” Seeing she had an audience, Mom doubled down. She grabbed my legs and actually knelt, begging. I didn’t get angry. I laughed. Then I pulled out my phone and played the video clip of the doctor testifying about the abuse. The crowd, always eager for drama, immediately turned on Mom. “That old woman has no shame! I’ve seen it all today.” Someone actually spat near her, another threw some wilted vegetable scraps they were carrying. Realizing her act was busted, Mom scrambled up, brushing off the garbage. She started yelling obscenities at the onlookers. I couldn’t stand watching her shrewish display. “Stop embarrassing yourself. I’m out of here.” I walked away, leaving her shrieking curses behind me. All I wanted now was to make them pay for everything they’d done. 4 To marry the rich guy, Ashley actually mortgaged the house. Of course, Kevin’s family looked down on Mom and refused to let her move in with them anyway. So Mom ended up renting a cheap, run-down apartment. She really went all-in, hoping for that big payoff. Betting the farm to catch the golden goose. Heh. Her calculations were useless, though. Nobody seemed to realize that Kevin, Ashley’s fiancé, was a violent abuser, and his mother was obsessed with having grandsons. I’d found all this out as soon as Mom came asking for money. But warn Ashley? Hell no. I was perfectly happy to watch from the sidelines. Seeing them tear each other apart like rabid dogs was exactly what I wanted. In fact, Mom mortgaging the house? I might have subtly… nudged things along. Ashley’s pregnancy progressed. But Kevin’s family wouldn’t let her move in until they saw the cash. Mom liquidated every asset she could find. Still couldn’t scrape together the full amount. We were never well-off, and Mom clung to every penny. The house originally belonged to Dad. Mom fought for it and got it in the divorce. My few memories of Dad were of a kind man. He couldn’t stand Mom’s constant nitpicking and greed, so he left. He died in a car accident not long after. Mom was desperate for the money, afraid the growing baby bump would start gossip. Seeing her so frantic, I decided to ‘help’ her out. I happened to have a friend in real estate. With a little maneuvering, we arranged for the house title to be transferred… to me. Mom wouldn’t have any assets left to leverage in the future. And it wasn’t like Kevin’s family were decent people who’d ever give her money back. Looking at the deed in my hand. I could only imagine the fireworks when Ashley and Mom found out. 5 The day Mom moved into the cheap rental. The neighbors were already calling her and Ashley crazy. Mom screamed right back at them. “You’re just jealous! When Ashley marries him, I’ll be rolling in cash!” She had such a twisted way of thinking. Selling her daughter, practically, but framing it like some brilliant investment. Watching her puffed-up arrogance. I smirked. She had no idea the house was already mine. After the wedding, Ashley flooded her social media with posts. Showing off her ‘perfect’ life. March 15th Hubby bought me roses today! Loving him more every day <3 March 16th Baby kicked today! Hubby got me my favorite dessert! #blessed March 17th Mother-in-law made me delicious porridge this morning! ... Post after post designed to make everyone envious. The comment section was full of praise. I just scrolled past, smiling faintly. I focused on my job, worked hard, and eventually got a promotion and a raise. When Ashley showed up, heavily pregnant, to gloat, I found it genuinely funny. "Jessica, you'll never be on my level. I'm a rich man's wife now, and you're just a pathetic wage slave." Mom chimed in, putting on airs. "Jessica, learn from your sister! Find a rich man to take care of me, so I don't have to worry about supporting you later." Watching them perform their little duet. Like gorillas in a zoo exhibit. Hilarious. "Yeah, I guess I'm just not cut out for relying on a man. I can support myself just fine." I raised an eyebrow. My words hit Ashley like a slap. She'd dropped out of school years ago, obsessed with becoming an influencer. Not only did her 'career' fizzle out fast, but she lived off Mom's meager savings. Men weren't reliable. Abusive men definitely weren't reliable. All the manufactured happiness shattered after Ashley gave birth… to a daughter. The social media updates stopped abruptly. Clear proof that Ashley's life was anything but rosy. And that was exactly the outcome I'd been waiting for. 6 On Ashley's daughter Tiffany's birthday. Mom insisted I come over for dinner. I went, purely for the entertainment value. Mom was slaving away in the kitchen. Ashley was trying to soothe a wailing Tiffany. Kevin, meanwhile, sat on the couch, scrolling through his phone, looking thoroughly annoyed. "Can you shut that kid up? God, the crying is driving me crazy." Kevin snapped, his temper clearly short. The couple started arguing. "Why don't you try comforting her for once? Always glued to your phone. Probably texting other women behind my back." Maybe she hit a nerve, or maybe he just hated being contradicted. Kevin backhanded Ashley across the face. Hard. His mother, Ashley's mother-in-law, chimed in from the sidelines, dripping condescension. "Ashley, know your place. You married into our family, you need to learn some damn manners." I watched the whole disgusting scene unfold, detached. It confirmed everything: Kevin was abusive, his mom only cared about grandsons. I slipped into the kitchen, pretending to help Mom, just to get away from the 'main event'. "Mom," I whispered conspiratorially, "Looks like Kevin and Ashley are fighting out there. I think Ashley actually slapped Kevin." Mom heard her precious 'golden goose' might have been slapped? She lost it instantly. She slammed down her spatula and stormed out, grabbing Ashley.

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After I got pregnant, I made up an excuse to break up with Ethan, successfully pulling off my “keep the baby, ditch the dad” plan. Two years later, pushing my kid out for some sun, I bumped into Ethan right at the entrance of my complex. We stared at each other, horrified, and blurted out at the same time: “You already had a kid with someone else?!” “Are you here to take my baby?!” 1 “Ava, honey, remember to take little Leo out for some sunshine every day. Don’t just stay cooped up inside, okay?” “Got it, Mom. We’ll head out in a bit.” Hanging up, I looked at the little guy who had just made a huge mess on the bed and was now giggling at me. I was torn between exasperation and adoration. Even though he’s my own flesh and blood, it doesn’t stop me from being grossed out by his… output. Mask on, I struggled to clean up the disaster zone. It took two exhausting hours. Usually, my mom and the nanny handle most of his care. But the nanny’s off for a few days, and Mom went on a trip with her friends, leaving me solely responsible for the little rascal. It’s genuinely exhausting and soul-crushing. If he wasn’t so darn cute, I’d seriously consider stuffing him back where he came from. Just before sunset, I pushed Leo in his stroller, planning a walk in the nearby park, but I spotted a familiar figure at the complex gate. His profile… looked an awful lot like Leo’s biological father… As if sensing my gaze, the man turned. Our eyes met, and simultaneous panic flashed across both our faces. We spoke at the exact same moment— “You already had a kid with someone else?!” “Are you here to take my baby?!” After the outburst, we both stood there, momentarily bewildered. Ethan tilted his head, confused. “Take… the baby?” Okay, looks like he still doesn’t know Leo is his. My mind raced. Playing it cool, I said, “Sorry, I guess motherhood’s made me a bit paranoid. Uh, fancy seeing you here. What brings you around?” Disappointment washed over Ethan’s face, but he quickly schooled his features. “It’s not fancy,” he said gravely. “I came looking for you specifically.” “Looking for me? What’s up?” Ethan’s gaze dropped to Leo in the stroller. He stared for a long moment before speaking, his voice tinged with resentment, “Ava, this kid… looks like he’s about a year old, lengthwise.” …Who judges age by length?! I thought he was starting to suspect the truth. My heart hammered again. I gave a vague answer, “Uh, yeah, around that.” Ethan looked even more hurt, clenching his fists, his eyes filled with accusation and sadness. “So, you mean right after we broke up, you immediately turned around, married someone else, and had a baby?!” Whew, scared me to death. He hadn’t figured it out. Good thing Leo takes after me more. I had no idea why Ethan suddenly showed up. I figured after two years, he would have moved on. But judging by his reaction, maybe not… In this situation, I should probably be ruthless to cut ties cleanly. But remembering I technically “stole” his genetic material made me feel a pang of guilt. I couldn’t bring myself to twist the knife further. I assumed his pain and anger stemmed from me moving on so quickly. So, I offered a white lie, “Well, not exactly… it was a little while after we split.” Ethan’s eyes reddened. He shook his head in disappointment, murmuring as if to himself, “I thought… I thought you wouldn’t get married easily. Turns out, you just didn’t want to marry me.” No, I genuinely don’t plan on marrying anyone, I answered silently in my head. Ethan looked at me, wanting to say more, his eyes swirling with unspoken emotions. Two years apart had matured the shy, boyish college kid considerably. His thoughts were no longer so easy to read. My pulse quickened under his silent scrutiny. But in the end, he said nothing, just turned and walked away, looking utterly dejected. 2 I watched his retreating back with mixed feelings. Just then, Leo started crying, almost as if sensing his biological dad leaving. I quickly knelt to soothe him. At the same time, my work phone rang. An emergency at the office required me back immediately. Patiently, I explained to my employee that I couldn’t just leave, that I needed at least a day or half a day to arrange childcare for Leo. But they kept urging me frantically, acting like the sky would fall if I didn’t rush back that second. Coupled with Leo’s wailing, my temper flared. “Doesn’t the company have anyone else who can handle an emergency?! Is the whole place going to collapse if I don’t show up today?!” My outburst silenced the employee. Leo, however, cried even harder. Taking a deep breath, I softened my tone. “Give me some time to sort out childcare. I’ll get there as soon as I can.” While comforting Leo, I started calling friends, trying to find someone trustworthy to watch him for a bit. But it seemed like bad luck was following me today. Everyone I trusted was either out of town or had important commitments. My anxiety spiked. “Where’s your husband?” A voice suddenly spoke from behind me, making me jump. Turning around, I saw Ethan. He’d somehow reappeared. “Still need something?” I countered, avoiding his question. Ethan glanced at Leo, frowning. “Why are you dealing with this alone? Why isn’t his dad helping?” I shot him a silent look, speechless. Ethan, bless his high-quality genes, was incredibly decent. Even after being hurt by me, the “heartless woman,” he couldn’t stand seeing me struggle. Assuming my non-existent husband was slacking off, he reached for my phone, intending to call him. Panic seized me. I quickly clamped down on his hand, blurting out a lie, “My husband’s on a business trip overseas. He can’t help right now.” Ethan eyed me skeptically. “So what are you going to do? Don’t you have to get to the office?” It was definitely tricky, but… Suddenly, I realized Leo had stopped crying. I looked down. The little guy was sucking his thumb, eyes wide and round, staring intently at Ethan. My gaze flickered between the two of them. Then, swallowing my pride, I asked Ethan, “Hey, um, if you’re not busy, could you maybe watch him for me? Just for half a day? I’ll be back tonight!” Ethan looked genuinely stunned by my audacity. “You want me to watch your kid with another man?! Ava, how could you humiliate me like this?!” “Fine, if you don’t want to—” Ethan suddenly held out his hand. I tilted my head, confused. “What?” “Your keys. You expect me to watch him on the street? Or take him back to my place?” Ethan scoffed. “I’m not letting you and some other guy’s kid into my apartment.” 3 “Building 9, Unit 2806. Door code is 0927.” I gave him the info without hesitation, pushing the stroller towards him. “Formula and bottles are on the dining table, use warm water. Diapers are in the living room cabinet. If you don’t know something, ask me or Google it. Also, if you don’t mind, maybe push him around the complex for a bit longer, get some more sun.” Ethan: … With Leo sorted, I frantically prepared to drive to the office. After a few steps, I turned back, uncertain. “You’ll take good care of him, right?” Ethan let out a cold, angry laugh. “No,” he said icily. “I’m going to torture this kid you had with someone else.” Despite his words, I felt strangely reassured. When I first got together with Ethan, he was still in college. My company needed part-time male models, and Ethan had tagged along with a friend to the audition. I don’t remember his friend’s face, but Ethan, waiting by the door, caught my eye immediately. The boy was stunningly handsome; even I, generally uninterested in men, felt a flicker of attraction. Initially, I just wanted to recruit him as a model. Later, lust took over, and he became my younger boyfriend. Getting to know him better revealed that Ethan wasn’t just gorgeous; he was smart, kind-hearted, and possessed excellent qualities all around. Unfortunately, the age gap was significant, and I’m fundamentally not the marrying type. We were doomed from the start, destined only for a fleeting affair. But his arrival did accelerate another plan I had. I’d spent years focused on my career, planning to achieve financial independence by 35 and then have a child to raise alone. When I met Ethan, I was already financially independent, but at 29, I wasn’t quite ready for motherhood. Besides, acquiring high-quality sperm wasn’t exactly easy. After dating Ethan for a year, he was facing choices about studying abroad or starting work. Logically, he should have pursued further education to enhance his prospects. But the silly boy, desperate not to do long-distance and eager to be on my level quickly, was actually considering giving up studying abroad. He seriously shared his future plans with me, every step revolving around me. His earnestness changed the dynamic of our relationship. I couldn’t handle the intensity of his affection, couldn’t take responsibility for it. Though reluctant, I knew I had to break up with him. But before ending things, I made one last use of his high-quality genetic material. After successfully conceiving, I first persuaded him to go study abroad – I couldn’t bear to let his promising future be ruined by a temporary lapse in judgment fueled by romance. Once he left, I used that as the excuse to break up, employing every soft and hard tactic imaginable. All in all, it wasn’t an amicable split. Mainly because Ethan was far more invested emotionally than I was. I definitely caused him some pain. Normally, I wouldn’t feel bad about a breakup – it’s a normal part of life, better to be amicable and move on, right? But… I had used his contribution without permission… That first instant seeing Ethan today, my heart leaped into my throat. I thought he was here to settle scores, to fight me for the child. Thank god he wasn’t— Wait. He hasn’t figured out Leo is his yet. But if they spend more time together, what if he does realize?! I’d only thought of him as trustworthy in the moment, completely forgetting that crucial detail! Regret washed over me for my impulsive decision. But I was already stuck at the office, unable to leave. All I could do was pray that when I got back, Leo would still be solely my child… 4 At eleven PM, after finishing up overtime, I rushed home, not even bothering to change my shoes, heading straight into the apartment to find Leo. Leo was sleeping soundly in his crib. Ethan was sitting on the floor, head resting on the crib railing, apparently asleep too. The scene looked surprisingly peaceful. Relief washed over me. I tiptoed out to change my shoes and pour myself a glass of water. I debated whether to wake Ethan and send him home. “You’re back?” His low, slightly raspy voice startled me from behind. “Did I wake you?” Ethan shook his head, sitting down across from me, casually picking up my water glass and taking a sip. “Didn’t fall asleep, just dozed off.” He looked up, his gaze slightly mocking. “Seeing you rush in like that, were you afraid I’d done something to him?” My eyes darted away. I didn’t answer. I had been a little worried. Ethan chuckled coldly. “If you were so scared, why leave him with me? Ava, you’re not usually this reckless.” He was right. I’m generally rational and cautious. Today’s decision was indeed impulsive. Maybe subconsciously, knowing he was Leo’s biological father automatically added a layer of safety filter. “Anyway, thank you for today. He’s usually quite a handful, did he give you a hard time?” I asked. “He was fine. Pretty well-behaved.” Ethan said this as if implying: I hate to admit it, but your kid with another guy is actually quite good. I found that surprising. These past few days, the little guy had worn me out completely. Except when asleep, “well-behaved” wasn’t a word I’d associate with him. And his sleep schedule was maddening – you could never predict when he’d get tired, and he’d always wake up crying after short naps. But then Ethan added, “He’s just a bit ugly. His father must not be good-looking.” I glanced at Ethan’s own practically flawless face and smiled. You said it. Ethan tapped his finger on the rim of the glass, studying me intently. Suddenly, he said, “There’s not a trace of a man living here, Ava. Are you—” My heart leaped again. Had he figured it out?! “—separated from your husband?” I discreetly wiped a bead of sweat from my forehead and forced a smile. “Ah, he’s abroad long-term, so yeah, not much of his stuff is here.” “Really? Perhaps… you’re actually divorced?” “Of course not,” I denied quickly. Ethan’s expression fell, clearly disappointed. I genuinely couldn’t understand what he was thinking. It’s the 21st century; shouldn’t two years be enough time to get over a relationship? Besides, I was now a supposedly married woman with a child. Could he possibly still have feelings for me? It seemed highly unlikely. So maybe… he was still resentful about me “dumping” him? Considering this, I tried reasoning with him gently, “Ethan, I know you’re probably upset about the breakup, but you must have known we were unlikely to work out long-term. Ending it sooner was better for you. Look at you, you’re such a great catch, came back from studying abroad still young, bright future ahead, plenty of wonderful girls would love to be with you.” “I’m not upset with you.” I paused. “What?” Ethan’s fingers tightened on the glass. He looked down. “I know I was young in your eyes, immature, couldn’t give you the security and sense of belonging you needed. It’s normal that you gave up on me.” “So after the breakup, even though I missed you terribly, I forced myself to hold back. I thought I needed to grow up fast, that maybe if you saw how I’d changed, you might give me another chance.” “I finished my studies early, threw myself into work, desperately tried to achieve something. I think I’m finally on a path where we could be equals, but… it’s still too late.” I’ve always been pessimistic about romantic relationships. To me, love is just a hormonal drive for physical intimacy. Once that state fades, so does the so-called love. Two years apart, whatever love existed between us should have vanished. So, I couldn’t empathize with Ethan’s current emotions. After a moment of silence, I tried again, “It’s getting really late. Maybe… you should head home and rest?”

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My husband had a stroke while cheating on me with his little tramp. When they brought him to the hospital, I immediately refused treatment. Not this time. I wasn’t going to be that stupid again. 1. “Lily, honey, I’ve got drinks with Mr. Sterling tonight. Might be back late, don’t wait up for me.” “Lily? Lily?” The face in front of me slowly came into focus, solidifying into the man I once loved more than anything. Kevin. My first instinct was to lunge at him, to strangle the life out of the man who ruined my life, who destroyed everything. But then, something felt wrong. The huge wedding photo on the wall, the bright sunflowers on the counter, the beanbag chair I picked out in the corner, the breakfast I’d just made sitting on the table. This was my house! I was back! I’d been reborn! “What’s today’s date?” I managed, my voice raspy. “Lily, what’s wrong?” His hand touched my forehead, cool and gentle. He muttered, “You don’t have a fever.” “What day is it?” “Okay, okay, it’s February 14th, Valentine’s Day. I know I should be spending it with you, but Mr. Sterling wants to talk about this new project. I really can’t get out of it. Please understand?” “Once the commission from this project comes through, we can finally buy that new house. I’m doing this for us, you know!” Kevin blinked, his eyes full of tenderness. He leaned in and kissed my forehead. If I hadn’t lived through this once already, I might have actually believed his bullshit. He wasn’t going to see Mr. Sterling. He was going to spend Valentine’s Day with his mistress! And while they were rolling around in bed, the extreme excitement would cause a massive stroke. The mistress would panic, dump him at the hospital, and run. And clueless me? I’d be on my knees, begging the doctors to save him, borrowing from loan sharks to cover the bills. A path that ultimately led me to jump off a building. “Which Mr. Sterling are you meeting tonight?” “It’s… hey, Lily, you don’t suspect me, do you?” A small smile played at the corner of his eye as he teased me. I swallowed the bile rising in my throat and forced out a “No.” Kevin beamed. “Don’t worry, you’re the only one for me. Babe, I gotta go, gonna be late for work.” He gave me a tight hug. The clean scent of laundry detergent on him was a jarring reminder. I need revenge! I need revenge!! I need to take back everything that’s mine! 2 It’s 8:00 AM now. At 11:00 PM tonight, I’ll get the call from the ER. That leaves 15 hours until his stroke. I need to get back all the assets he secretly transferred, and fast. Kevin is a Vice President at his company, Apex Corp, making $200,000 a year. He always managed his own salary account, claiming he was saving up $450,000 for us to buy a bigger house. Six months ago, he said he was almost there, even showed me the balance: $410,000. I remember in my past life, the hospital bills piled up like falling leaves. After draining my own accounts, I tried to use Kevin’s salary card. The system flashed: INSUFFICIENT FUNDS! I just assumed I’d grabbed the wrong card. It never occurred to me that he’d already moved all the money. On one side, the nurses were hounding me for payment; on the other, a $30,000 shortfall. In desperation, I turned to high-interest online loans, thinking, once he wakes up, we can easily pay back $30k. Kevin woke up a week later. When he found out I’d taken out predatory loans to save him, his face instantly darkened. When I asked for his salary card, he hemmed and hawed, saying he’d invested the money and lost it all. Back then, I actually believed his investment story. Worried that getting upset might trigger another stroke, I even comforted him, saying it was okay, I’d figure out the money situation. But the interest compounded. And compounded. Soon after he was admitted, the $30,000 ballooned to $75,000. I had to ask him for help. Maybe get an advance on his salary from work, or borrow from friends. He exploded, yelling that I borrowed the money, it had nothing to do with him, and I had to pay it back myself. I was stunned. He sounded nothing like the gentle, considerate Kevin I knew. He was like a selfish stranger. The doctor told me many stroke patients experience personality changes, and it could be hard for families to adjust. I believed it. Thinking he was fragile after his recovery, I tried to handle the debt myself. But I’d moved across the country to marry Kevin right after college, cutting ties with my family in the process. Asking them for help was impossible. As a stay-at-home wife, I had no recent work experience. Countless interviews ended in rejection. My only option was to borrow more, escalating from bad online loans to even shadier lenders. Eventually, I caught the eye of the loan shark’s boss, who demanded I become his mistress. That’s when I started putting the pieces together. He and that secretary who brought him to the hospital, Chloe, seemed to have been involved for a while. 3 Last time, when I rushed to the hospital, I found a valet ticket stub while signing papers. It listed the location he was picked up from. Something like… The Grand Royale Hotel, room 303! Yes! The Grand Royale Hotel, room 303! My eyes narrowed. A plan started forming. I bought a pinhole camera, then checked into The Grand Royale Hotel, taking room 305 – right across the hall from 303. Noon is peak checkout time. After lunch, the cleaning staff would start their rounds. I watched the peephole like a hawk. Soon, a housekeeper started cleaning 303. As she was finishing up, I opened my door, asked her if she could please clean my room first. Then, while her back was turned, I slipped into 303. Stepping inside, I gasped. Red mood lighting, a heart-shaped waterbed, a jacuzzi tub, a sofa shaped like red lips. This was clearly a fantasy suite. Standing on a stool, I quickly hid the pinhole camera behind one of the spotlights. Then I calmly walked back to 305 just as the housekeeper finished cleaning my room. 9:00 PM. I heard familiar voices outside the door. “I love you, baby.” It was Kevin! “Mmm… you’re eager. Careful, the baby!” “It’s past the first trimester, right? I’ve been holding back for so long…” “Seriously though, when are you going to divorce her?” “There’s a project bonus coming next month, about $25k. Let me transfer that out too, then I’ll bring up the divorce.” “Mmm, okay… mmm.” The door slammed shut. Yes, Chloe was already pregnant at this point. In my past life, when I found out, I flew at Kevin, hitting him. He called me a crazy bitch and said since I already knew, he might as well tell me everything. “Chloe and I have been together for a while. She’s carrying my child. We got a paternity test done. It’s a boy.” “The Chen family finally has an heir!” (He never Americanized his family name pride). “We’ve been married three years and you haven’t gotten pregnant. You’re just a barren hen!” “You want the $450,000 from my account? I moved it to an offshore account long ago. You’ll never find it!” Sobbing uncontrollably, gasping for air, I asked him why. Why, when I was desperately trying to save him at the hospital, taking on so much debt for him, would he do this to me? He laughed, a cruel, cutting sound, and said something I’ll never forget. “It was Chloe who brought me to the hospital. It was the doctors who saved me. I was destined to live. What does it have to do with you? I’d be perfectly fine without you.” 4 Swallowing my disgust, I opened the live feed from the camera. Watching them cling to each other. Suddenly, Chloe got an idea. She wanted to play something… stimulating. Kevin’s eyes lit up. He immediately turned and bent over. Chloe picked up a small whip, like a matador facing an overly excited bull. Crack. Crack. Each strike was met with gasps and moans of pleasure. He was loving it. Apparently, that wasn’t enough. She put on high heels and stepped onto Kevin’s back, right onto his buttocks. That move made Kevin’s eyes roll back in ecstasy. Wait. His eyes rolled back! Chloe stepped down a few more times, but Kevin didn’t react. That’s when she realized something was wrong. She rushed over, shaking him, then screamed and scrambled back. She fumbled for her phone, probably calling 911. In the few minutes before the paramedics arrived, she frantically got dressed. Then she tried to dress Kevin. He’d already had a stroke; moving him was the worst thing to do, but she was forcing his limp body into clothes. Last time, the doctor said it was rare for someone so young to have such a severe stroke. Now I knew why. It wasn’t just the stroke from the BDSM; it was being manhandled afterward. No wonder it was so bad! Soon, I heard hurried footsteps and the rumble of a gurney in the hallway. After a flurry of activity, they wheeled him away. I opened my door. Other guests peeked out of their rooms, making snide remarks. “Whoa, did someone just kick the bucket in there?” “People are wild these days! I heard it clear as day, the guy was yelling ‘Your Majesty, spare me!’” “Hehe. Honey, I wanna try that.” “Oh, spare me. I don’t have a death wish.” While everyone was distracted, I slipped back into 303 and retrieved the camera. Step one, complete. The real show was about to begin.

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